Skyfire had waited until Shep had gotten ready and taken a shower. Better for it but skyfire was a tiny bit confused considering after a fight you would probably need a shower. But they let that thought process end since Shep was ready.
It decided to sneak up behind him, for what reason it didn't exactly know.
"Hello Shep" they said. Well said was a bit of an understatement. It felt like its words were creeping into Shep's mind, intrusive. Telepathy.
But that was the only warning that was given before skyfire full force ran into Shep from behind to hopefully throw him off balance
// @skyfire-the-watcher
"Sky-?" Shep didn't even get to finish the rest of what he was saying before he toppled towards the ground. He managed, though just barely, to catch himself, and after a considerable amount of struggling, moved farther out of the way of Skyfire and pulled himself back up to his feet (and crutch), now facing them and able to get a good look in person.
...A majority of his confidence seemed to dissapear, scampering away and hiding somewhere, similar to what he felt the urge to do himself now.
He hadn't been in many fights, and the ones he had weren't all that serious. Or, more pressingly, against whatever the hell Skyfire was.
He did the first thing that came to mind. Grabbing his empty revolver and throwing it at Skyfire with considerable force. ...He did spend a lot of time throwing Quick Balls, after all.
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*A video is posted, linked from TikTok. A shaky camera follows Seto Kaiba himself towards Kame game store, as if filming while chasing after him. The focus hastily pans between Kaiba and a recognizable figure from the second floor balcony of the small building, as unintelligible, antagonistic words are exchanged between them. There's a cut to the side door of the game store opening, Yugi Mutou emerging in pajamas before he's quickly met with a fist from the much larger man. He doesn't go down immediately, however, and as Seto Kaiba directs another fist at the smaller man, the video suddenly pauses. A yellow filter, and a graphic of an arrow containing the words "to be continued...." pop onscreen, a bass riff and memetic tune play over the video's original audio as the video fades to black and ends*
It's just around dawn when Nico Martin gets home. But that's not exactly unusual.
It's been, what? Not even two years since their last full moon patrol, a mere blink of an eye in the grand scheme of their extended life. But they give an exhausted sigh, their legs heavy as lead as they climb the four or five steps to their brownstone town house.
They aren't just out of practice, though. Even their busiest nights on the beat couldnt have prepared them for this weekend.
At least it's almost over. One more night, and they can resume their quiet desk job, writing their reports, filing their expenses documents, scripting explanations to the public for the week's spike in violence.
The moment the heavy, enchanted door closes behind them, their sturdy shoulders slump, their guard dropping along with their polite, signature smile.
A fluffy white cat greets them as they peel off their shoes to relax their aching feet. "Hello Bijou, yes, I know, I know. It's past dinner time, isn't it?" they coo affectionately.
In the security of their own home, Nico falls into familiar patterns. They feed Bijou, but find little appetite themself. Instead, they drag themself up the stairs to draw a hot bath in an attempt to wash the evening off them.
Four frenzies would have been a busy weekend, back when they worked the field. They'd responded to no fewer just that night. But at least they hadn't had to face some awful Monstrosity, like the night before....
They stay in the bath until it's cold. But they still don't quite feel clean as they crawl into bed behind the thick, black curtains of their room.
----
It's well into the afternoon when Nico wakes again, naked and groggy still. But they drag themself from bed and stretch, before wrapping themself in a long, satin robe. A fine luxury justified by the way that every muscle in their body aches as they move.
Finally, they have to eat. But a liquid breakfast is more than enough for today. And most days, really. Other nutrients are unnecessary for them, after all.
They drop a LifeBlood tablet into a glass of cabernet sauvingnon and give the glass a swirl, idly watching fizzy bubbles rise to the top as the tablet dissolves.
As they sip, Nico leans against the kitchen counter, watching their tiny back garden from the tinted window. A sunny day. An inside day. For the better, they still have another night of patrol to rest up for after all. They should get started on their reports, their version of each of the previous night's events for their higher-ups' satisfaction. Maybe they can find some time for needlepoint, or to read a bit--
Mm. That's weird.
They rub their stomach, frowning slightly at the glass in their hand. Yet they take another sip, even as they take the bottle to check the expiration date on their Life Blood supply. Satisfied with that, they pass the indigestion off as a symptom of a long and exhausting shift. Take their glass with them as they move to their living room to relax.
But the floral wallpaper swims and squirms in Nico's vision. Their head pulses. Their heart is racing now. The glass shakes though they hold it now in both hands. Their mouth feels dry, and they can't help but take another long, greedy sip of their wine and Life Blood.
Their head pulses again.
Their red eyes go wide
The glass shatters against the floor.
They know this feeling.
But the realization comes far too late, unfortunately. Their pulse is deafening in their ears as they brace themself against a doorframe. Trying to think through the panic.
They swear they see their skin begin to blister and boil and bubble, turning black before their eyes. Maybe they're just delusional from the oncoming frenzy.
Their phone.
Racing to the kitchen, they fight against all their hunger, all the wild instincts telling them to scream and tear and bite and feed. Their legs give out the moment they scoop their phone from the counter where they'd left it, and the device skids across the tile floor. Their fingers split open as they frantically reach for it, talons bursting from their nailbeds as a scream tears itself from the wide, toothy mouth of Charybdis that Nico's own twists into.
Somehow, they manage to touch the screen. Talons scrape the glass as they press their most recent contact. But as black tentacles burst from their spine, they can do nothing but scream, giving in to Monstrosity.
Vriska closed her eye and let her instincts guide her on her way through the ruins of their incipisphere. Her mind raced with thoughts and memories of everything. The game. Her attempts to kill Tavros and Aradia. Her quiet moments with her ex-moirail...
She opened her eye. Her vision filled with chunks of golden debris. The ruins of Prospit... she knew this was the place. She flew into the thick of the debris field and started calling out.
“Terezi! Terezi, are you here?!”
She continued searching for a long while through the field, calling out, but never getting a response. She started to lose hope... then she saw something on a chunk of debris. A mural, drawn in red, depicting a number of humanoid figures running from a giant... something.
Vriska flew down to the chunk and called out again.
“Terezi?!”
The moment the word left her lips, she was kicked from behind. She fell on her face, quickly flipping over to get a look at her attacker...
“T-Terezi!”
Standing over her was none other than Terezi Pyrope, looking more ragged than Vriska had ever seen her before. Her clothes were torn and filthy. Her shades were missing, and her scarred and blank red eyes were on full display. She grasped her cane with both hands and drew the sword out of it.
“YOU’V3 GOT SOM3 N3RV3, 4SSHOL3.”
“Terezi, calm down! It’s me!”
“HOOFB34ST SH1T. VR1SK4 1S D34D. 4ND 3V3N 1F SH3 W4S 4L1V3, SH3 WOULD N3V3R COME LOOK1NG FOR 4NYON3. 1 DON’T KNOW WHO YOU 4R3, BUT YOU 4R3N’T L34V1NG TH1S PL4C3 4L1V3!”
Terezi raised her sword up into the air and stabbed it down at Vriska’s head. Vriska quickly rolled out of the way and sprung back to her feet.
“Terezi, stop this! I don’t wanna fight you!”
“D13 F4K3R!!”
Terezi rushed at Vriska, still surprisingly fast despite her somewhat rotund frame. Vriska floated up into the air, out of range of Terezi’s sword, and pulled her dice out of her pocket.
“Fine! If you won’t listen to me, I’ll have to make you listen!”
She cast the Fluorite Octet to the ground. The dice clattered, fate determining the next course of action...
8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8: ANCESTRAL AWAKENING
Vriska’s Thief garb shifted into the infamous coat of the feared pir8 Mindfang, and she drew a blue cutlass out. She stood ready to fight her former palemate... but Terezi froze up.
“...N-NO W4Y... TH3R3′S NO W4Y 4NYON3 COULD F4K3 TH4T... V-VR1SK4...?”
“Yeah. It’s me, Tez. The real me.”
Both trolls put their swords away at the same time and embraced as Vriska’s coat disappeared and her dice stopped glowing. Tears welled up in Terezi’s eyes as she buried her face in Vriska’s chest.
“1 N3V3R THOUGHT 1′D SM3LL YOU 4G41N... 4FT3R THOS3 TH1NGS D3STROY3D 3V3RYTH1NG... 4ND K1LL3D 3V3RYON3...”
“They didn’t kill everyone.”
Terezi pulled back a bit.
“WH4T?”
“A 8unch of us survived and escaped... and that’s why I’m here. I’m here to save you.”
“...YOU’V3 CH4NG3D, V. 1N TH3 B3ST W4Y.”
“Shut up... I’m still not a good person. 8ut you remem8er what I said?”
“YOU DON’T H4V3 TO B3 4 GOOD P3RSON TO B3 4 H3RO.”
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The sudden onset panic attack vibrates the room she's in. Pictures falling off the wall. Remi scrambling to catch them.
She panics and goes to stumble out of bed...only she teleports three feet and smashes into a wall, breaking her new nose. She falls on her ass, stunned and clutching her bleeding nose.
What's this? It seems that all of your pants now have words like 'juicy' and 'bubble butt' and 'fuck royalty' and 'ham' and 'tasty' embroidered into the back of them. Thankfully, the culprit, who is unashamed in his act, was kind enough to not embroider over the piggies on the pockets.
As long as the pigs were unscathed he’s not entirely fussed, picking up a pair in between two of his sausage fingers and looking over the whole affair with a dignified snort.
I mean it wasn’t really a big deal… Who cared if someone just so happened to sew the truth into his pants?
