Your misshapen mistake lays in ashes at your feet.
You're trembling, sick, scared.
The stench of smoke coats your tongue and makes you gag
Gag
Gag
You stumble past Jeanne, wandering into your room and collapse on the bed.
You
You aren't here right now
Not that you really want to be, anyway.
Numbly, you fish around for your charger cable and plug it into the port at the base of your neck.
Your eyes close without your permission
Honestly you're running on autopilot at this point, aren't you?
The internet is vast and meaningless, rolling, scrolling across the backs of your eyelids.
You load up Ursumbra, something tactile
Something fun
Something, anything to ground you and pull you out from this haze
Your thoughts are static against the glassy sea of your bleeding emotions
As the hazards and warning screens melt away, you just lay there unmoving.
đ´ cyberneticlagomorph is live on caster
The chat is open, but you can't see the window, not that it would help.
And now you're back again, watching that same cutscene play out.
A doll, dragged from its child's bedroom into the abyss beneath their bed. Tugged ever deeper into the winding labyrinth of earthen tunnels beyond.
The darkness is full of eyes that roll and twitch and stare, as hyper realistic teeth gnash and gnaw at nothing as if in anticipation.
And then your savior arrives.
You've never gotten past this part.
Past the slow march up to your seemingly lifeless avatar.
A cat, all done up in ribbons, carries a kitchen knife in a scabbard across her back like a sword. She pulls a lightbulb from out of nowhere and pulls the cord attached to it with her sharp teeth.
The yellow light it produces is bright, washing the entire tunnel golden. The creatures around you hiss and reel back, while others snake up behind her, intent on disarming her.
She tosses the bulb, and watches it shatter upon hitting the ground, unleashing a blinding explosion of golden light.
The entire tunnel rumbles and shakes with the force of those beasts as the flee, screeching into the darkness beyond your sight.
The cat doll smirks and kneels beside you, "Serves 'em right, huh kid?" A pause, she cocks her head as the glow from her weird lightbulb grenade starts to flicker and dim, "Aw hell, you aren't even awake yet... now that's low, even for Them.
She props your avatar up against the wall of the tunnel and proceeds to cut your chest open with her claws. There is a moment where the camera shifts behind her to show the growing shadows on the wall, already sprouting new eyes.
And then the game is in first person as your avatar takes its first raspy breaths, coughing, confused. The cat smiles wide, like Cheshire Puss levels of grin, it should be creepy but on her it's endearing.
"Happy birthday kid! ...gosh I should probably stop calling you kid, huh? You got a name?"
Silence. You look around, watching the eyes that watch you, listening to the wet breathing coming further down the tunnels. You're dizzy... in game at least. The cat waves a paw in front of your face, "Earth to kid! C'mon now... your noodle can't be pan fried already can it?"
"Jack..." your voice sounds alien... soft, dusty almost, "My name is Jack."
"Heck yeah! My name is Ribbon, now this really isn't a good place for pleasantries but I make it a point to know the name of everyone I rescue, now c'mon, that Bright Idea won't stick around forever."
She hauls your avatar to their feet (..paws?) and starts guiding you down the tunnel, just as the Bright Idea (at least you think that's what the lightbulb grenade... thing... is?) finally winks out.
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The game is kind enough to start you where you left off, ambling down that dark and ever winding tunnel.
It's truly something out of someone's worst nightmare. The walls of the tunnels seem to flex and breathe in the darkest places, writhing in close to crush you with their ever present bulk.
But the worst part, you think, is the silence. The way your footsteps (pawsteps?) echo back to you in a way that makes it feel like you're being followed. Sometimes you think you hear voices, or wood creaking beneath dragging feet. When you look up, the soil is cradling the warped boards of a hardwood floor, old nails jut down like stalagtites, and pale dusty light angles down between the cracks.
You pause, watching as something slithers over head with unnatural speed. Ribbon ushers you on in silence.
The tunnels are dark, yes, but not as dark as you'd imagine.
There are doors, with light pooling beneath them, floorboards, and curtains that baffle you at first but turn out to be the bottom edges of blankets covering the ever-dark recesses beneath beds. You find yourself vaguely wondering where you came from and if you can find your way back.
Ribbon isn't saying anything, despite her earlier jovial appearance, she's all business now. Ears swiveling at the tiniest sounds, big purple eyes glowing in the dark. It's unsettling, truly, almost as much as the fact that she hasn't brought out any other light source other than that Bright Idea awhile ago. Surely you've only been playing for a few moments but that confrontation seems like days ago...
The pair of you come to a door, small and covered in peeling stickers. The wood is scratched to hell and back, covered in deep claw marks around its edges. The light that oozes out from beneath it is lavender and thick. Ribbon has to force the thing open, and soon you can see why. The other side of the thing is covered in metal plates, refrigerator magnets and more stickers. While devoid of the claw marks, the metal side is dented beyond repair but seems to be holding up just fine given the circumstances.
Ribbon turns, a smile spreading across her face as the light beyond washes her a soft purple. It's gone in an instant, replaced by a heartbeat of true fear.
There is a breath on your neck, warm, and wet, and foul.
You move without thinking, diving forward into Ribbon, sending you both tumbling headlong into the grass beyond.
...Ok, carpet, not grass. Noted.
A four fingered hand comes crashing down towards you both, only to bounce off of Ribbon's knife sword hard enough to send purple sparks flying. She kicks you off of her and rolls to her paws, her eyes are glowing brighter than ever before. You can't distinguish pupil from sclera anymore, it's just an endless sea of angry, determined purple.
You scramble to your own feet and gaze back at the door. The door, frame and all, just hangs there in midair; surrounded by a patch of bare floorboards and school supplies turned into a makeshift fence around it.
The door stands wide open, an impossible number of shadowy, black hands squirming out of it. Long, thin arms with too many joints snap and pop horrifically as clawed fingers twitch and flex. In the middle of it all is a single hideous maw that is nothing but bright white, grinning human teeth. You watch it open, and see a wide eye rolling wetly beyond that wall of calcium and regret.
Ribbon stands in front of you, sword at the ready. Her tail roughly shoves you back, "Run! This ain't your fight."
Like hell it isn't.
Hands swing down towards you both at an incredible pace, clawing, smashing, smacking. You are swatted away like an annoying fly.
Everything is blurry... so blurry... so loud.
Get up.
Get UP.
Two legs aren't enough to keep you steady, so you stand on all four limbs instead.
Now run.
You do what you're told, and you run. Run right towards that horrible, seething thing of hands and teeth.
Limbs cascade towards you, intent on doing you harm. You put your head down, flatten your ears and you GO. Nails graze your face and sides, and you feel your tail narrowly slip through the grip of a grasping hand.
Closer now.
Closer still.
You lunge, your own claws outstretched. You don't expect them to meet soft flesh, but they do.
The teeth of the thing clamp down on your arms, too late to protect its injured eye.
It wails, writhing, sobbing, screaming.
"Oh shut up!" You smash your face into the teeth again and again, until one breaks loose and--
Whatever you were about to do is interrupted by the sounds of metal sawing through meat. A dozen panicked voices call to you. Light spills across your back, bright and painful enough for the monster to let you go.
The entire thing retreats with an earsplitting scream.
You look down.
Your hands lay severed at your feet, in a pool of blue glitter, next to a giant white tooth.
And then in true video game fashion, everything goes black.
Music plays over a cute screen of a cute doodle of Jack sitting on an upturned teacup, kicking his legs peacefully. His eyes are closed, tail thumping contentedly.
Jack's voice comes in clear over the music as the chat in the corner of the screen starts to become lively as people log in, "Right, ok so... I'm doing things a little-- well, a lot different tonight."
A pause, and the cheerful music stops.
The stream changes then, to Jack sitting in a very lush vivarium with plenty of climbing trees and ledges and places to hide, Jack himself is sitting on a lush cushion on the ground, a long cord snaking away from his back and curling around to the monitors in front of him. He's got a handheld camera, that much is obvious at least.
"Tonight's stream is sponsored by the Lobotomy Corporation! These guys are doing me a solid and keeping me under close observation while I game tonight, so hopefully nothing horrible will happen this time... god I hope I didn't just jinx myself." He makes a sour face, after a beat he clears his throat, "Anyway... let's get this started, yeah? The site went down for maintenance last night, so we probably won't have any problems this time... hopefully."
He's visibly uncomfortable, maybe even afraid. The camera cuts off and we are met with that familiar splash screen. Jack logs in, the loading screen that follows is a sketchy drawing of something vast and terrible reaching up and up and up in order to devour the sun, Jack finds himself reading the tooltip text aloud, "Sand fallen, sun consumed, the War was all for nothing, our stuffing is the only softness left in this world - Stitches 5:24"
A shudder seems to rip through the entire stream, a concentrated wave of unease.
For a lot while there is only a heavy silence until the game finally loads in.
Jack's avatar is outside the doll hospital again, rocking back and forth in a cute idle animation. He can finally see the town around him, brightly lit by lanterns full of green fireflies. The streets are made of obnoxious bowling alley carpet, and the grass is an assortment of fluffy shag rugs.
The town itself is full of players wandering here and there, going into shops, and chatting with each other. Someone flying on an obnoxiously pink cloud swoops low enough to nearly decapitate Jack, he barely has time to duck. The sky is normal again, dark purple with green stars, and that sad, jagged moon hanging limply in the sky.
For the first time, he can hear the background music and it sets him at ease. He wanders away from the hospital, looking for something to do.
The cloud flyer swoops back around and coasts next to Jack, low enough to make polite conversation, "Sorry about almost running you over like that, I just got this thing and I'm still learning how to drive it..." her avatar is almost as pink as her cloud, some sort of frilly undead opossum with a skeletal tail and toothy mouth where her sternum should be, "You ok? You look kind of lost."
"Oh, uh, it's fine!" Jack stops, unsure of where he even wants to go, "I'm new, I just got past the weird door tunnel monster like, yesterday."
"The Snarl, you mean?" The possum tilts her head, "I'm Keerah by the way, but yeah the big scary boss thing at the start of the game is called the Snarl, you're supposed to try and run from it but it always catches you and you end up in this damsel in distress situation and black out it's An Ordeal!"
Silence, "I just sorta... ran straight at it?" Jack laughs awkwardly and fiddles with his claws. Keerah gawks.
"No way?? No... way??? You can DO that??" She makes a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat, "Jeeze, that's probably what broke the game last night, you went full hero and confused it."
His head snaps up, "That can happen!?"
"No! No, I was just teasing, sorry." Keerah reaches over and pats Jack's paws, "The glitches have been a thing for awhile but they've never been this bad before, like sure sometimes an npc would lag out or something but never whatever the hell last night was." She shivers, "Hopefully maintenance fixed everything... so, where ya headed if you don't mind me asking?"
Jack just shrugs, trying to keep his mind off of the... everything, "Dunno, I'm like brand spanking new at all this, I don't even know what the main storyline is..."
"Oh that's because there really isn't one! Quests, plots, and character motivations all vary by server, so players have complete control over their play experience," she grins in a wistful kind of way, "Isn't it great?"
"Yeah... great... uh, where do I want to go if I want to take up a quest?" Might as well actually play the game instead of standing around, waiting to get spooked
Keerah points towards the massive Lego brick wall that seems to wrap around the entire town, "Head back towards the doll hospital and go north until you hit the barracks, you can't take any real quests until you learn how to fight, y'know how it is with these kinds of games..." she looks like she's turning to go at first but stops herself, "Oh! Before I forget, let's add each other as friends!"
She produces a cute pink coffin shaped smartphone and holds it out for Jack to take. There's a moment of awkward silence, "I don't... know how to do that yet."
"Just check your pockets, it's ok, this game really hates holding your hand when it comes to mechanics, everyone was a confused noob once in their life!" Keerah smiles again and the caster chat fills with heart emojis. Jack will now die for this complete stranger.
He finds his pockets, and his phone, along with the prescription bag he got from Ribbon. He hands it to Keerah and watches her enter her information into his contacts the same way one would do a normal phone.
Cool, not everything in here is ridiculous then.
The phones are swapped back and the two part ways.
The barracks aren't hard to find, a squat Lego brick building sprouting from the inside of the huge wall like a tumor.
It's dim inside, and crowded with new players sparring against each other. Some with swords, some with magic.
Others seem to bend the darkness to their will.
Another player let's out an ear splitting cry and sends their sparring partner flying through a nearby wall.
"Well... looks like I'm in the right place..." Jack muses. A mangled looking stuffed dog strides up to him, missing an eye and more patches than plush, his fur has been stained camo print and he looks deeply unpleasant to be around.
"You there!" He barks, the remaining fluff on his top lip looks like a droopy mustache, "What's your business here?"
"I came to train!" Jack barks right back, the old dog looks taken aback but just starts to laugh heartily.
"Well then, why didn't you say so! Welcome, new recruit to the first day of your new life in service to Haven and all those who live safe within her walls, my name is Sargent Barker and it's my job to whip limp ragdolls like you into shape!" Barker turns quick on his heel and marches away, "Come along now, we don't have all night."
Jack follows, his excitement evident in the way he wiggles, bouncing up into a rare binky. Barker stands before a wall covered in weapons, each polished so bright that Jack can see his reflection.
"Now then, I can't train you until I know what you want to be, so go ahead and pick whatever speaks to you, and we'll go from there." The old army dog stands aside, hands behind his back. He's wearing little polished black boots on his feet, that's not entirely important to the situation right now, but Jack things it's awful cute...
The wall glimmers with promise and dulls with the dust of heros past. Jack stands there, trying to decide, while the chat loses its entire mind trying to get him to pick the sick looking anime sword in the top right. His hand ghosts over the one thing that looks out of place, a bandaid with a smeared lipstick print on it. He looks at Barker, and the Sargent tilts his head, "Ah... the Ragged, toys that have been loved to death by their humans and are now more patches than fluff..." he clears his throat, "Not that I'd know anything about that! They're a peculiar class of folk, can heal themselves as well as their friends on the field of battle, and they know more than anyone how to strike down the Fears that plague mankind, would you like to be one of them?"
A pause. That didn't sound like him at all, he broke things, he didn't fix them! He was a manmade monster, not fucking Mercy! He opened his mouth to reply to Barker when the cheerful background music slammed to a literal screeching halt. The entire world seemed to bend and slant, like a cardboard box in a trash compactor. The npcs lost their textures, t-posing brokenly as their heads twitched and snapped back in ways that shouldn't be possible.
"Another glitch, hopefully it will pass." The fear in Jack's voice is evident, he can taste his own lies.
None of the players seem to be able to move, just standing there, helplessly watching as the world becomes flat and colorless. Textures and lighting melting away until there is nothing but the bare framework of the game all around them. Escape is impossible, any attempts to log out fills the screen with endless error messages.
Jack swore and screamed, but made no sound.
The ground beneath them all became a chasm yet again. That same impossibly black pit that stretched forever and ever.
Hands snaking up through the emptiness, grabbing players the way one plucks fruits from the vine.
Long and disfigured fingers with far too many joints wrapped around Jack, leaving him only slivers to see through.
Down.
Down.
Down.
The darkness swallowed him whole and the entire stream suddenly goes dark.
>heâs pointedly ignoring the loudmouth, big chested twink in the iron and quarts mask who keeps not so subtly following him, flirting with everyone in Jackâs earshot
>the woman in black is following him too, he doesnât notice her, but sheâs always at the corner of his eye, doing something seemingly innocuousÂ
>most of the time heâs hovering around the Countess, tending to her, making sure the festivities are to her liking
>and they are
>on his way back to the food tables to put some honey on his iron burns, because he forgot to, he is accosted by a tall someone in a golden mask framed but shimmering topaz rays, mimicking the sun
>it only covers half his pale face, his golden eyes shimmering with mischief, his fangs poking out between his lips as he grins like a sneaky child
>âHello Startlight,â he purrs, instantly stirring the chat into a rapid fire spamming session of steven universe memes that donât go unignored (others have let their thirst overtake them and are getting immediately banned over their indecency)
>âHey, Sunny.â Jack replies, he sounds loopy, giggly. Neck deep in a pool of puppy love for this guy, that he announces to his stream as one Sunny Tepes, son of Dracula Tepes. Sunny loops his arms around Jack and drags him towards the dance floor, the woman in black trailing them like a shadow
>Jack  is back at it again at his ranch in space, his breath fogging in the freezing cold, thin air as he floats around almost aimlessly. The dusty, kelp-grass covered ground beneath him is sprinkled with tools, seedlings, bags of seeds, and his little glowing sunfire friend.
>the chat is filling fast with familiar faces, each excited about space. Thereâs Paramore playing instead of normal High Wilderness ambiance
>a few giddy newcomers spam the chat with questions
>âzippitydoodumbass: wtf is this? like where is he?â
>âfee-fi-fuck-off: YOOOO IS HE IN SPACE??? HOW IS HE IN SPACE HOW IS HE BREATHING?? IS HE AN ELF?? AN ALIEN?? WTF??â
> apatheticInfinity donates 420 bytes and asks Jack to do a flip, which he does while answering the numerous questions and loudly contemplating adding a FAQ to his stream description
>âHello iâm Jack, today weâre out in space, specifically weâre in the High Wilderness, which is space but in an entirely different timeline than the one I live in.â
>As he lazily does a flip in zero gravity the chat floods with even more questions asking how he can cross timelines
>âThe High Wilderness has air, itâs just thin as all fuck, and colder than the sad empty void my ex calls her heart. I can hop timelines âcuz magic. Many of my friends are from other timelines, this stream is broadcasting to other timelines actually, Iâm very thorough.â
>He does a very wiggly, complex maneuver that puts him back on the ground. You can see where he is now, see everything from the first person perspective of whatever camera heâs using to stream. Likely his cybernetic eye.
>The place is beautiful and strange, so very strange.
>heâs definitely in space, some dinky little planetoid covered in odd plants that sway like seaweed and kelp, strange sail-like trees with tiny black leaves like moss against the trunk. Harsh howling winds blow across their numerous hollows and produce a haunting flute-like sound
>far away, in the star-speckled void, are vibrantly hued dust clouds and nebulae, and the dark dusty band of a nearby asteroid field.
>something bright and glowing gold scampers up to him, speaking a language that hurts to hear. The stream glitches and flickers for a second before a very cute graphic of jack tangled up in computer wires comes up, proclaiming technical difficulties. It doesnât last long before the stream comes back and the strange language the little glowing creature was speaking is wholly understandable. This language is Correspondence, it doesnât so much as translate clearly into words as it does notions, feelings, and concepts that one can both hear and feel
>âHullo friend, star friend, feeder friend, soulless and sweet. Will you furrow the earth today? sail the stars today? challenge gods today? Iâm hungry... your boat came.â its voice is without gender but is high like a childâs, it looks something like a very small star, something like a clump of souls, and something like a cat or a monkey. It floats effortlessly through the thin air to nuzzle Jackâs face with itâs flame-haloed head. Jack scratches it behind what might be ears, or what might be gills. Itâs very hard to tell what does what on something so strange.
>Jack says something back to it that suggests affection and warmth on the tail end of a gentle scolding. The little glowing thing pulsates like a beating heart and perches on Jackâs shoulders. The chat is filled with âawwsâ and âdawwsâ and further questioning as to who/what the fuck that thing is
>âThis is Glimmer, a âjudgements heartâ, i picked them up during my last trip here. Theyâre sweet and warm and I love them. Say hi Glimâ
>Glimmer says hi back and Jack grabs a garden hoe off the ground.
>âTodayâs itinerary is getting these seeds in the ground and then going hunting the the asteroid field out yonder.â He jerks a thumb towards the dusty gray line in the distance. Glimmer is singing to themself, a strange nonsensical song about dirt and wells and things that write poems for worms. Glim isnât of much help as Jack tills the soil and plants strange seeds of all different shapes and sizes. He buries bulbs and roots, blankets odd black tumors with mulch, and transplants long creeping things with long hollow âleavesâ that thrum like violin strings whenever the wind blows.
>Jack doesnât explain anything about the plants and seeds, only that theyâre a surprise for later. His final act of botany is to plant a number of rose bushes and berry brambles around the base of the Ranch house, along with some other things that look like theyâd climb just as eagerly.
>Gardening in space is much harder than it sounds considering everything wants to float away when you're not looking, but he sticks to his task and gets it done just in time for the door to his ranch house to open and reveal a tall, beautiful woman in red. Her long white hair kisses the back of her ankles, blowing elegantly in the wind as she seems to glide up to him. Her silver eyes glint with the same gentle affection that tugs the corners of her mouth up into the barest ghost of a smile. Other than that she's stonefaced and a little mean looking, like she'd cut you if you breathed at her wrong.
>The chat breaks out in heart eyes emojis and shouts of "WIFE", Jack is purring, a sweet whirring-rumble like an old school computer. He greets this woman with a soft, dreamy hello and a half-assed warning that he's streaming this live
>"Don't you fret lapin, I know how to behave." Her voice is sultry, almost mockingly so as she leans in to kiss him only to pull away before their lips can meet, and the chat howls that she's a tease. She introduces herself to the chat as Jeanne. She is one of Jack's fabled two wives and by god is she beautiful, ethereal, terrifying. She seems more fae than he does somehow, every move she makes is artwork, and the world is her canvas. The Caster chat is suddenly a sea of [message deleted] as some of the less... tactful comments about Jeanne removed at Jack's discretion. Everyone is warned to keep it in their pants or else he can and will curse them over the internet.
>That stops everyone cold. Quietly wondering if he is that powerful. He likely isn't but someone who can marry THAT and also afford a ranch in fucking SPACE is obviously not to be fucked with. So the chat settles down like a pack of scolded school children. Jack leaves Jeanne to linger in the fields, while he circles back behind the barn to wash off at least some of the dirt he is now caked in.
>You'd expect a well in such a rural setting, but no, instead there is something like a bastard cross between a normal stone well and a gas pump with a windmill strapped to its back end. Empty canisters litter the ground around it, some rusted, some new, all of them painted a ghastly florescent yellow that makes them easier to see among the dark foliage. Jack asks the chat to watch before he takes the pump and squeezes it into empty air. Fat globs of water, like shimmering soap bubbles, flow from the nozzle trembling and steaming in the cold cold air.
>He sticks his hands into it, giggling like a dork. He manages to get most of the dirt off before the glob evaporates or freezes... honestly it's hard to tell just exactly what happens to it after awhile. Mostly cleaned, he makes his way back to join Jeanne but is interrupted by a great scarred calamity of a Curator, shrieking about hunting, singing shrill songs about teal eyes, North, and meat.
>Jack explains to the confused chat, that this is Mr Veils, an associate of his. Veils is a Curator, a giant starry furred horned space bat native to the High Wilderness that drift about hoarding things, and selling said things to other species they come across. Most are nicknamed after their hoards. Mr Veils deals in fine fabrics... usually. But today Veils couldn't give a damn about buying or selling, it just wants to hunt.
>The chat is entranced really. Jack stows the last of the gardening tools in the barn before pointing towards the asteroid fields and asking Veils to meet him there. Veils flies off with a joyous cry and a thick layer of foam coating its lips. He watches the quickly shrinking dot that is Veils grow ever smaller before turning to Jeanne.
>"Race you." He says, sounding a little cocky. She merely lifts an eyebrow before leaping into the air, a pair of gorgeous moth's wings appearing at her back as she swoops away in the direction Veils went. Jack, along with the chat, shouts that she's cheating to which she replies
>"Since when has any witch ever played fair, lapin?" you can hear the smile in her voice, even over the wind as Jack shifts into something winged and powerful, flying right after her. He loses of course, landing grumpily on a large asteroid at the edge of the field, Glimmer still clinging stubbornly to his shoulder.
>From afar it looked barren, maybe even mournful, but up close it is lush, and wild, and strange, oh so very strange. Each and every chunk of pitted stone is alive with plants. Strange swaying things that look more at home at the bottom of the sea than space. Translucent, sail-like things, strange whistling trees, even stranger bushes and undergrowth that retreat into hollows in the rocks when disturbed. Each and every 'plant' clings stubbornly to the stones with armored roots. What isn't stone, or plant, is ore and ice glowing with what little light can be found here.
>Some ores are recognizable, others are impossible colors and textures that ooze when Jack touches them, or slither and shift. There are gems stuck in the stones as careless as sprinkles on a cupcake. There are animals here too, as equally strange as their surroundings. Eyeless deer leaping from stone to stone, scaly rabbits with tough hides to protect against the pebbles and grit blowing in one the winds, geese-like things with segmented necks and pincers like bobbit worms drag anything that scampers too close shrieking into the darkness of their burrows.
>There are birds and fish, massive crabs, strange mantas, jellies, cat-faced harpies, all bounding though the waving grasses and cavern mazes. Spider-legged beasts lap at exposed patches of ice, or gnaw lazily on transparent lichens.
>Jack is overcome with awe that is quickly replaced by annoyance as Veils swoops low and plucks some hapless beast off a rock and into the sky, the animal bellowing in fear. He remembers that he is here to hunt, not sight-see, and his entire demeanor changes. His body drops low, his movements suddenly fluid and catlike, but it's somehow clear that he hasn't changed shape again. This is all him.
>He slinks off like an animal, picking across the ground on all fours with surprising ease, as if  he were born out here. The chat keeps making 'dummy thicc' jokes
>"inutechy: hrn colonel, I'm trying to hunt, but I'm dummy thicc and the clap of my ass cheeks keeps alerting my prey."
>Jack is far too focused on the eyeless deer thing in front of him to be amused. His normal tactics won't work here, so he has to be fast and brutal. Just as he prepares to strike, the beast is shot cleanly and he just sort of sits there, dumbfounded.
>"Too slow." Taunts Jeanne as she flits off to do more damage elsewhere, gun still smoking. Jack scowls at her retreating back before slithering off to find more prey. Between Jeanne and Veils and his overall unfamiliarity with this place, Jack has a tough time catching anything, but manages to snag a few not-rabbits ("cannibalism" proclaimed the chat), and the evil geese-worms ("cursed. Thanks I hate it" whined the chat).
>Amid the gunfire and Veils... everything, another curator descends upon the scene. Much chubbier than Veils, with small folded ears, and a very stony expression. Its holding a much much smaller Curator with long rabbitlike ears and horns similar to Jack's antlers.
>Jack drops everything (mostly a half dead... something his teeth were in) to go and greet the pair of them. As he gets closer it's clear to all that even though the smaller bunny-like Curator is obviously a baby, that she is nearly the size of an average human adult. Curators are absurdly huge but Jack doesn't seem to mind. He greets them both with kisses and hugs, introducing them to the stream as Mr Stones and Galena. Galena is the obvious offspring of Jack and Stones, several people make rude remarks about Jack's apparent sluttiness and get banned on the SPOT. Stones wraps a wing around Jack and licks his face.
>Veils sings taunts from high on the winds, betting Stones that it can't out-hunt it this night. Stones merely huffs and tells Galena "Watch and learn." Before hauling its powerful body into the cold sky. What happens next is nothing short of amazing and a little humiliating on Veils end. Stones sails through the asteroids with grace and speed, plucking bobbit geese from their holes with practiced ease, fleeing scalebuns run right into its opened jaws and blind deer meet their ends before Stones even hauls their bodies off the ground.
>It's anything but gory, it's clean, efficient, magnificent and Jack just sort o f stands there, watching. It's clear he's given up on catching anything else tonight, so he might as well sit back and learn from a master. Galena watches too, babbling excitedly in Correspondence, flapping her leathery wings. Soon the fun is over and everyone is dragging their numerous kills into piles to further show off their prowess.
>And then a curious thing starts to happen. The Curators start to sing. Well, Veils sings, Stones raps surprisingly well with its monotone voice. Both spit lyrical disses tearing each other's hunting skills apart line by line. It's beautiful, it's BRUTAL. Jack mentions that normally he'd join in but with a pile as small as his it'd be a fools errand, but somehow he gets drawn into it anyway. His melodies swoop high, combined with echoing tones produced by glittering crystal shards made by his magic. As he predicted he gets lyrically evicerated by the others. Even Jeanne gets in on it, her voice is as pretty as the reset of her and She Does Not mince words.
>By the end everyone is grinning, packing up their kills to take home. Jack carries both his AND Jeanne's catches in his chest space, leaving the chat to wonder just how much room he has in that thing. Stones gives Jack a few parting licks before scooping up Galena and heading back to the ranch house, Veils leaves with something small and fluffy clenched in its teeth.
>The stream ends with Jack trying to tetris everything he and his wife have caught into his concerningly large meat freezers. He promises an update on the plants soon and signs off by blowing a kiss to himself, and therefor the stream in a bathroom mirror.
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>The guests have arrived and Jack is still in his room, having a mild panic attack while the Caster stream attempts to give him a pep talk and lots of bytes
>Heâs nauseated and says just as much, itâs hard to see him cuz heâs using his cybernetic eye to stream
>all thatâs visible is whatever heâs looking directly at and the wisps of glowing white hair that keep falling in his face
>He covers his face with his hands and sighs, flopping back on the bed just as someone rudely and loudly knocks on the door
>Someone in a mask accented with rose quartz, as soon as he opens his mouth, Jack apparently knows who it is and responds by punching him very hardÂ
>in the face
>his hand sizzles where it touches the metal and a quick glance shows his skin is blistering, but he doesnât really seem to care
>he just gathers up his skirts and storms off towards the noise of the party
>a woman in a plain black dress, and cheap looking mask bumps into him on the stairs. He apologizes for the accident, she says nothing, just stares at him, through him
>watching him as he wades into the crowd and almost disappears
>the stream opens with Jack leaving his little ranch house out in space, he nearly stubs his toe on a mammoth pile of seedlings and farming supplies that someone has delivered right to his door. He silently moves the items to the nearby empty barn while the chat starts to fill up with regulars and strangers alike
>"kingofsteves: yooo two streams in two days? It's like he almost has a schedule [emoji of a very smug looking turnip with eyebrows but no eyes]"
>jack isn't saying much, he's likely ignoring the stream or else lost in thought. Several people are yelling about space and want Jack to do some kind of tour but he probably has something else planned
>after all the items are stored he does numerous flips through the cold, thin air, aided by the lack of gravity, much to the chat's overall delight. While turning lazily in midair he just sort of watches everything swirl by
>"Today we're on the hunt for stardust at the request of one of my newer Tumblr mutuals, if you aren't following my blog already you really should as I am way more active there. "
>some kind of fancy graphic shimmies its way on screen and proclaims the urls of his other social media in true streamer fashion. Jack gives a shout out to his cousin for making said graphic and promotes her Caster channel.
>He's flying again now, swooping through the void on those strange leathery wings towards the coral market and all the wonders it holds. He is met by a chorus of curator song, the place is abuzz with activity. But instead of swooping into the market proper, he swings around to land on the deck of Mr Spirits' ship, the Skintwister.
>he is met by the usual shanties and rough-looking crew peddling their wares, those he bought the boat and fishing rod harpoon... thing from give him updates as he passes. He is looking for Mr Spirits.
>he finds the old bat deep in the belly of the Skintwister, conversing with a thick, brick shithouse of a bat. She is dripping with jewelry and fine fabrics, lounging upon a pile of gold and treasures, curled ever carefully around several very large eggs
>as old as she is, she's still very beautiful and powerful, with jaws that could easily take someone's head off. The entire chat wonders if she's single.
>"internmarce: PLEASE TELL THESE TWO BATS THAT I LOVE THEM MORE THAN I THINK I'VE EVER LOVED ANYTHING IN MY WHOLE AFTERLIFE??? [Several amorphous emojis that radiate a deep pining and thirst for affection but don't really have a shape that makes any kind of sense]"
>Mr Spirits escorts Jack back to the deck, asking him what he's come for, if he is interested in items from Mr Treasures' hoard. Mr Treasures being the bat seen just earlier. Jack asks the old skyfarer if he knows where to find stardust.
>"Ah, bold little thing you are, to hunt for something as grand as that. For the right price I can have one of my crew take you to the place you seek, but be warned this isn't an easy task." rumbles the old bat
>the chat is flooded with affectionate emojis and thirsty proposals of marriage. Jack accepts the terms and Spirits calls over another curator, the one that sold Jack his fishing rod.
>they speak in Correspondence, the language of fire and stars. It kinda hurts to see and hear but jack is doing his best to bleep it out and translate it on screen which is no small feat. According to the subtitles both captain and crewbat are discussing taking jack out to hunt 'fallen stars' , and after a few moments preparations (which jack spends bouncing around the market, window shopping), jack and the crewbat set off in a smaller vessel, out into the Lawless void yonder
>not a lot happens for quite awhile, just sailing, sometimes in silence, sometimes with odd little shanties sung by the crewbat. They call themself Mr Hooks, they're young for a curator. Maybe the species equivalent of 20 or so. They seem very sweet.
>jack isn't paying much attention to the scenery anymore, just sprawled across the little boat's deck with his head back, watching things go by. The roar of the Wilder-winds is near musical here, it tents the sails and urges the boat along at impressive speed.
>Mr Hooks slows the boat to a crawl suddenly and urges Jack to stand. It points at something in the distance, Jack has to adjust the zoom on his eye in order to see it.
>it's a long streak of light, serpentine and golden, behind it is a trail of glittering dust like glitter but base boosted. Upon further inspection, it appears that the streak of light is some sort of creature, it's a bit like a fish, a dragon, and a snake all rolled into one, with a great fiery mane around it's head and face
>"our prey" says Mr Hooks, steering the vessel back into the winds, the chat and jack both are bursting with excitement. Most of the chat wants to marry this strange glowing creature, the rest is loudly pleading that Jack not hurt it.
>the creature turns suddenly and makes a beeline for the little boat, much to everyone's alarm.
>soon its upon them, the creature now curling around the ship and by god is it MASSIVE. A titanic stellar serpent, covered in blazing eyes, and countless soft feathers. A huge fin runs the length of its spine and its head is wreathed in sun-fire, yet its eyes burn somehow brighter
>Mr Hooks gently, but firmly, grabs jack by the back of his neck as the creature begins to speak in a voice without gender or langue, a voice somehow understandable by anything and everything. Musical and clearly amused as it circles the vessel like a shark
>"hello little lost star, won't you sail away with me? Can't you hear the Wilderness calling to you? Come, chase comets and taste stories with me. Lose your Lesser skin and be a star again, won't you? Please? "
>thanks to Mr Hooks firm grip, jack is unable to move, he hesitantly, sadly refuses. The great star-thing doesn't ask again, but seems to pout, huge eyes studying the ship and its passengers.
>"til we meet again then, little star." it uncoils and zips away, leaving a thick cloud of shed feathers in its wake. They soon turn to glowing ash without the warmth of their host to keep them lit. Mr Hooks fetches something like a large ladle on a very very long pole and a simple jar from the supplies they've brought.
>jack and Hooks take turns scooping up the ash, the stardust, and pouring it into the jar until it's full to the brim. Jack holds the thing up to his face so the chat can see, his awestruck smile distorted in the glass
>he's flitting from room to room in the Countess' mansion, muttering to himself about how this and that need fixing
>the place looks fine, better than fine
>its breathtaking, strange coral-like trees with numerous hollows along their trunks and branches, and leaves like candyfloss nebulae. They shimmer a dozen unnameable colors, glittering with stardust, illuminating the place ever so slightly. They sit in floating pots, roughly carved out of asteroids, with chunks of gems and ores shining among their nooks and crannies
> yards of fabric cover the walls, the windows, and wrap around the banisters
>asteroid tables, split down the middle, with glass tops so onlookers can peer into their glittering innards, groan with strange, fantastic foods
>little planetoids go about their revolutions near the high ceiling
>and by god what a ceiling. A grand illusion has been woven across it, making it a window into the cosmos. Unfathomable solar systems drift by, chased by comets, peppered by meteors. Occasionally something else will fly by, strange beings like fish acclimated to the cold vacuum of space, city-sized crabs with rocky exoskeletons, and massive bats with bodies decorated in a thousand tiny stars
>songs blow through the mansion, carried on sweet breezes, temping people to drink, dance, make merry. They make the trees whistle as they blow past.
>all this opulence, impeccable and perfect. And yet Jack still frets and worries and tweaks until a woman in a filigreed mask glides up to him, the fabric of her ballgown rustling in the breeze-song
>she cups jack's face and speaks to him like a mother. The dagger-points of her fangs flash behind painted lips, the sharp points of her ears weighed down with jewelry. Her eyes are the kindest, warmest blue imaginable.
>this... This goddess incarnate, is the Countess.
>"you have done well," she says, "Now go, get dressed. Our guests will be here soon enough."
>and not a moment too soon, the sounds of teleporters going off and cars crunching their way up a gravel driveway rings out over the breeze-song
>the Countess shoos Jack away, and as he ascends the steps he ends the stream.