#impwritings

Today's writing: A poem I wrote today. *clearing throat dramatically*

The Broken Compass

Its glass resembled a spider’s web The needle twisted like a bullet’s trail Copper shreds the hue of variscite The north arrow a pink so pale

Its contorted arrow pointed west And toward the ground where it still rests The rusted pin near caving in The white face a faded mess

It never feels a living touch Save a beetle’s clawed embrace Lost, abandoned, touched with frost, Decaying, laying plants to waste

The wanderer who lost it then Would he treasure it if found again? A gift perhaps of swift farewell? Or a faithful tool forgotten?

The wanderer who lost it then, Where could he possibly be now? Perhaps resting at an inn? Or perhaps lost and never found?

The wanderer who lost it then, Why did it fall to dust? Did it simply slip out of his hand? Or was it cast away in wanderlust?

Today's excerpt from: Burning Hiraeth

“Five years later, ten years after the Council’s Convergence, Sector 32 was officially recognized as two separate sectors, adding a member to the Council and bringing the total to one hundred and forty-four."

Sebastion blinked as the gold on his teacher's shoes reflected the late morning sun directly in his eyes. The teacher didn't seem to notice the glittery lights he cast about the room like a crystal chandelier as he strode to the middle of his holographic screen behind him. "Now, class," he sneered, "who can tell me what rare astronomical event happened in the year 0 A.C.?”

Sebastion didn’t raise his hand. He knew the answer, but it was definitely time someone else did something to move them closer to the end of the lecture. After an uncomfortable pause, a Tuarian girl raised her webbed hand before the teacher could pick someone out.

“Planetary convergence, when all the planets align during their orbits.” She mumbled, her scaley tail twitching. Sebastion was in the back corner of the room and could barely hear her. Their teacher flicked the singular floppy antenna on his forehead.

“Well done, Ithana,” he said, applauding slowly, “Though the daughter of a Council might behoove herself to project with more confidence. But etiquette class is in two hours, not now.”

 Sebastion internally grimaced at the critique, even though it wasn’t directed at him. Sir Ginhil always mad his skin crawl in embarrassment. His immaculate black suitcoat had hand-tailored sleeves for all his arms and turquoise cufflinks for all. His shoes were so ostentatiously decorated with gold he should have been dress-coded for distracting and potentially blinding his students. To make matters worse the high-grade brown-yellow-green Gehora fleece vest and bright orange Leticia tie matched nothing but the equally ugly-but-high-grade braided beige belt so painfully visible against the black pants waist hoisted about his equator.

Ithana was technically higher class than Sebastion, and Ginhil loved to brag about it since his mouth, much like his clothes, only reflected who paid him and his pride in said income. But Ginhil was supposedly the best history tutor his family could pay for, and they weren’t poor by any means, so the Avixian boy kept his mouth shut.

Ginhil rambled on about the First Panaceic Revolution and the horrific massacres by the Resistance for the next twenty minutes. Sebastion counted each one on the clock as they ticked by. 4…3…2…1…until finally the chimes rang and silenced that snooty, nasally, voice with the only words Sebastion ever wanted to hear from him.

“Class dismissed! Please make your way to the lunch hall.”

Shouldering his satchel and holding his pencil in his mouth until he could open his pencil case, Sebastion rolled the eyes inside his head as he heard that high tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk.

“Hardly professional of you, young Sebastion.” The history tutor sneered. Sebastion took the pencil out of his mouth and put it in the pencil case.

again, og fiction escapes me. SO. In the meantime, have a lil spider propaganda

In Praise of an Arachnid

A tiny, fragile creature can’t withstand the human finger. Her large, dark eyes take in a world many millions times her size

She crawls this world with no true malice Her one purpose restores balance but oft will fear incur.

Her home is made adorned with lace And dew bedecks it in morning grace Or rain will catch the light like gems Such beauty has no match

Of strongest silk her house is made Also acting as her finest aid from gravity or danger

She might hunt or she might wait Or mayhaps a woven cave create Her ways so subtle, yet so sly To seize the swift mosquitoes

it's freaking 1am I am late and I wanted to post something anyway so I figured I'd write a lil poem, a ballad, if you will, about some of the discord moments I have had that keep me procrastinating about my writing...

One day I got off the keyboard just a minute was I afk Fetch something for ingestion was my only intention but I come back and the group chats doth say

"WE'RE BURNING DOWN PARIS" "AND SAILING TO ROME" "ALY'S THE POPE "SMUDGE IS EATING NACHOS" "WE'RE ALL GETTING MARRIED" "CAL'S STARTING A WAR" "BC SOMEONE ATE CHEESE OFF THE FLOOR"

My notifs are flooded by hundreds Till finally I may also take part But the chaos continues And in my side menu Pings in the green server start They said

"DUCKY IS DYING" "AND BAKA'S THE KILLER" "ELVA'S SWEET VOCALS ARE SLAYING US ALL" "BLUE BETRAYED NO ONE BUT OSSA'S IN JAIL" "AND ABBY'S THE ONLY ADULT" So wide-eyed, I catch up and reply To all of the threads once again But another chat pops off In the IDV show-off And here's some of what then happened

they said

"CALLED HIM A JOSEPH" "AND HE DIDN'T GET IT" "I HID FROM HIM FOR A HUNDRED FIVE SECONDS" "HE JUST A WU AND HE IS A BIRB" "WE RIZZED UP OUR SWEET HUNTER CLERK"

"SOMEONE COME RANK WITH ME" "WE'LL TAKE IBUPROFEN" WE CONTINUE OUR ROLEPLAY AND POST PICTURES OF MUFFINS GAVE THE CAT ORANGE JUICE AND CHAOS OCCURRED JUST ANOTHER DAY IN THE DISCORD

guess who still hasn't finished stuff for Burning Hiraeth again ;u; Here have a poem in recompense ;~; I got some randomly generated words and worked them into a poem bc I read a challenge and felt like it lmao

Reprimanded for Quiddling

Oh, you foolish foolish mortal In your endless task of quiddling You grow numb to all the enthrall In your box of mere existing

Box your feelings, box your soul Turning down that sense of whimsy Repeating deeper in your hole For arguments so flimsy

Oh, you foolish foolish mortal Can’t you feel what you have lost? Compartmentalizing pieces Closes paths for spiral thoughts

Thoughts, an endless stream of beauty enclosed in straight, right-angled walls How can a person be so silly? And keep what must break out so far from falls?

Oh you foolish foolish mortal Why stay in your box still quiddling? Feel, hear, and see the enthrall And never stop, keep living.

today's excerpt is from: A Megaman X fanfic I do not remember if I made a name for, but I will update this when I get one. Chapter 2. I have most of chapter 1 published somewhere on here and I have the intention of finishing it.

While Copper was disoriented and frequently existential, she couldn’t really say her existence was horrible. She was working with robotics hardware, a familiar field despite some of the advances, and Dr. Caine treated her well. She almost hated how he seemed to notice everything. True, she wasn’t the best at keeping her emotions in check, but he often knew the whens and whys anyway. But he was kind, fatherly and full of bright, almost mischievous curiosity.

And then there was X. Copper still couldn’t get over how like Rock he was. She’d even called him Rock by accident on a few occasions. X didn’t mind. Copper offended herself with that far more than him. As much as she hated to admit it, he was a comfort to her. Someone somewhat familiar in an ultimately unfamiliar world.

She felt more relaxed at the Caine residence than anywhere else, away from the bustle of society, a concept now rather estranged to her. She would observe quietly and pick up on things, but there were so many new things to pick up on that for months a mere hour or two in the city could feel overwhelming.  As such she got a reputation among Caine’s peers for being “the quiet one.” They were kind to her. Most treated her as an equal. She never felt like it. She felt like a little lost child. If she did need to speak she would address them formally.

Many days were simply filled with a pressing melancholy Copper never fully shook off. Just random moments, unbidden, it would press upon her. She missed them. She missed Rock, Roll, Top, Quick…all the masters, Kalinka…her dad. She missed her own flesh and blood body...what had been left of it. She’d gone back to the ruins of Light Labs several times in the hopes of finding something, anything to explain why Dr. Light had converted her into a robot against her wishes. They’d discussed it multiple times and he had agreed and respected her decision. So what changed his mind?

X would often find her sitting listless somewhere, lost in such thoughts. One such day, during the first spring since she was found, he tapped on her shoulder as he’d become accustomed to do.

“Cop?” He asked. She startled from her thoughts, her idle hands returning to what she was supposed to be working on.

“Hey, X.” She replied. She said it wholeheartedly, but only half of it was there anyway. X let a worried frown cross his lips.

“Hey, you wanna go for a walk?” He asked. “The weather’s finally nice out.” Cop looked at the nerve tech tester in her hands and sighed. It wasn’t like she was doing a good job focusing anyway.

“Sure.” She sighed at last. They walked out to the back of the Caine property. There was no snow anymore and the small grove of trees was beginning to grow their flower buds. It was pleasant, however damp and cloudy it was.

“Cop?” X asked after several minutes of silence. Cop looked over, her fingers gently toying with a tree branch near her face.

“Hmm?” She replied. X paused, seeming to be putting his words in order.

“When you first came here, you asked what my story was. So…I guess what I want to ask is what is yours? I mean…you knew about Light Labs before Dr. Caine told you. And while he says we’re of very similar make, there’s a clear difference between the two of us. I was wondering if you knew what that was.”

Copper hesitated. Oh, she absolutely knew. She struggled, however with telling X the entire story. Or anyone for that matter. It was something she only felt comfortable thinking about. She opted for a half truth.

“Well…I used to be human, X.” She replied. “Back when Dr. Light and all were around, I contracted a terminal illness when I was a teenager, so I left home and busied myself as a small-time vigilante for the rest of my days. They digitized my consciousness as you see me now. I’m not sure exactly why. I asked them not to but something changed their minds. When I woke up, Dr. Caine was opening my pod.”

“Oh…That helps me understand why you seemed so shocked.” X said.

“Heheh, yeah. It’s a lot to thi- to process.”

“Mhmm…do you want to talk about it?” He asked. Again, Cop hesitated. On the one hand, she felt she could trust X…and it’d be nice to confide in someone. On the other, she wasn’t sure if she could stand repeating all the things that had happened before.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said quickly. Copper nodded.

“Thanks. I…just don’t think I can yet. It’s silly, I know. It’s been seven months.”

“It’s not silly.” X said firmly. “You can still feel things you know. Probably even more than I can. Take the time you need.” Cop felt a little bubble of her self-control pop and blinked quickly and hoping X didn’t notice he’d almost made her cry.

“Thanks.” She said again. “I appreciate that.” Silence followed as they kept walking, but it wasn’t awkward. X smiled, looking up at the trees around them slowly growing pink with tiny buds. Copper felt a drop of rain and looked up. It began to drizzle steadily and X laughed softly and reached his hand up to catch the raindrops. The drops were cool, but not frigid. It almost felt…comforting. Copper smiled too. Then she laughed.

“I’m glad we can feel the rain,” she told X, “I miss a lot of things from being human, but I’m glad this isn’t one of them.” X grinned.

“Just goes to show how well Dr. Light was able to make us, I suppose.” He smiled. “All the little things he appreciated and wanted to give us.”

“I guess you’re right.” Cop replied. She sighed and looked up into the deep grey abyss of the sky. It felt like it sank forever upwards, drawing her eye further and further until a raindrop fell directly on one of them. She blinked and looked at X again.

“We should probably get back. Dr. Caine will need us. Thank you…for…you know. Talking to me.”

“No need to thank me. It’s nice.” X replied. The two of them walked back to the building and grabbed towels to dry themselves off before heading to the lab side of the house. Dr. Caine was speaking to a larger, taller reploid before turning to the two of them, cutting him off just a bit.

“X! Copper! I was just about to call you two. I’d like to introduce Commander Sigma.” The two of them nodded politely, unsure what to say. Copper wanted to shrink under his gaze. It felt like it could cut through butter.

“Commander?” X asked. Sigma nodded.

“The world is changing, X.” He said. “Robots with free will call for a different system of justice in order to keep the peace. The standard police force no longer cuts it to maintain the law. And I am afraid the number of Mavericks is increasing at an alarming rate.” His voice was deep, regal…powerful even. Copper couldn’t say she didn’t like it, but she sure wouldn’t want to hear him yell. It reverberated in the room and seemed to fill it even when he was speaking normally.

“So…what does that have to do with us?” She asked. He looked her in the eye and she averted her gaze.

“We are putting together a force of Reploids,” Sigma replied. “We call ourselves the Maverick Hunters. Our goal is to maintain peace and order specifically for other reploids. A counter measure for those stronger than human forces can risk handling. You two would be assets to us for our reputation and morale. You two, out of any reploids, have the highest reputation. With you two on our side, it will be easier to get the sway we need for support.”

“So you want us for our names?” Copper said.

“I want you for your potential.” Sigma replied. “The rest of the committee wishes to use you for…public interest.”

“Is fighting really the only way to do this?” X asked. “Reploids may have free will, but isn’t there something corrupting the programs of Mavericks?” Sigma shook his head, though not in denial. Regret, perhaps?

“We’re not sure, X.” He replied. “There have been theories about such things, but no confirmation. In the meantime, these Mavericks are putting the lives of other reploids and humans in danger. It will be safer to disable them now until we can come up with a better solution. We will only have that when we know more about Mavericks, and that will take time.” X looked down for a moment, then back up at Dr. Caine.

“What do you think, Dr. Caine?” He asked. Dr. Caine scratched his head.

“It’s not up to me, X.” He said. “It’s up to the two of you if this is something you want to be a part of.”

Copper looked at X. He was standing with a hand on his hip and another on his mouth looking at the floor. She knew he hated violence, but also knew his morals would probably win out if he actually made a decision.

“This…is what I was made for. To maintain peace. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to violence, but Dr. Light made sure I’d have the tools I needed if that time came. I will join the Maverick Hunters. And…hopefully it won’t have to be around for long.” Sigma nodded.

“I appreciate your willingness.” All three looked to Copper.

“I will as well,” she said at last. “I don’t think I have a purpose, like X does, but it is a cause I’m willing to spend my time on. And I’ll probably be of better use there.”

“Right. Then it is settled. You two will join us at Headquarters tomorrow. I look forward to seeing you both.” Signas bowed and left. Dr. Caine looked at both of them.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked. “I will ask him to leave you two alone if you want.” X changed his hand out for his buster canon.

“I have made my decision,” he said. “I was built to defend peace, even if violence is ever necessary. I want to help. It’s my job. And the Maverick Hunters seem to be the type that will only fight for peace.” Copper nodded.

“It’ll be okay. Hard, but okay in the end. Don’t worry, Dr. Caine.”

“I know.” He said, “And I’m proud of you both for your intentions and actions.” He reached out and pulled them both into a hug. X hugged back tightly. Copper less so, though she still did. Her mind was turning at the thought of working for the law. It’d be strange, since she’d worked outside it for the past couple years before digitization, but perhaps it’d be easier.

Hours later, long after Dr. Caine went to sleep, Copper walked down to the parlor and turned on the remote fire place. She sat for a while, staring into the flames. Tomorrow her life was changing again. Why did she even say yes in the first place? Her morals weren’t that strong, were they? After all, she’d befriended robot masters on impulse, she’d left her family on impulse, she’d done all kinds of legally questionable things on impulse. Why would she make a decision based on morals? Was that how Dr. Light had programmed her? Was that what he’d thought of her?

“Can’t bring yourself to sleep either, huh?” A voice startled her and she turned around. X was standing behind her, staring into the flames as well.

“Oh, X.” She said. “I didn’t notice you were up.” He nodded and tilted his head toward the other seat by the fire. She waved a hand over to it and he sat down. He sighed.

“Well, we got ourselves into something today, didn’t we?” He asked with a half-smile. She nodded.

“I’m surprised you decided so quickly,” Copper commented. “I thought you’d ask for time to think about it if I’m honest.” X shrugged in reply.

“It…felt right, I think.” He said. “I don’t know how to explain it. But as much as I love working here with Dr. Caine, I feel like I have to do this as part of what I was made for. And then it just…slipped out.” Copper nodded.

“I guess that’s how I feel about it too, except for the made for part.” She said. “I guess it was pretty impulsive either way though, right?” X chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said, “I guess it was.” He put a hand behind his head, embarrassed.

“We both were, don’t worry.” Having X’s thoughts about it gave her a secret sense of relief. It was just impulsivity. She might still be herself.

“I wonder how organized they are.” She wondered out loud.

“Probably decently well if they’re asking us about for public face,” X answered. “Though it’ll probably still improve with time.”

“Do you think…it’ll be around for a long time?” Copper asked. X’s face turned down.

“I hope not.” He answered. “But I have a horrible feeling it will be. Longer than anyone would wish for.”

“I just hope it isn’t shorter than it’s needed.” She replied. X nodded, but there was a heaviness in his motion. He still seemed frustrated, so Copper glanced around the room, hoping for inspiration. A word, a sign, something to help him. She spotted the old chessboard.

“Chess?” She offered. X looked up at her and half-smiled. He understood.

Today's excerpt from: Burning Hiraeth (aaayyy we get some Sebastion content today! I wrote this a few months ago, but I'm hoping to continue this story soon since the Sebastion squad is finally talking to me again. I think they went on vacation or summat. ;~; anyhoo enjoy!)

Commander Gone Crackers

Sebastion flinched a little as the General put his hands down on the table with a bit of a pound, wordlessly demanding the attention of those in the room. He didn’t know the guy’s name. In fact, few people actually did. He was always “The General.” Makes sense. The less you know about your infamous leader, the less you can give away if you’re captured.

“GENTLEMEN,” the General’s voice resounded like a church bell. “There is a third option.” As the General’s glance fell upon him, a skinny, tall man gulped. The following silence settled in about as well as a cat on mousetraps.

“Yo-You can’t be serious!” Sir Lightning Rod spluttered in a light accent. “You want to bring her back?” Sebastion’s quirked, pale blue eyebrows bounced from side to side in the room, his gold eyes trying to study every pallid face. A murmur of reciprocation buzzed through the room to the skinny officer’s sentiments.

“Now, now,” A rather elderly woman in a trim uniform said, raising her hands to quiet them like a group of school children. “As dangerous as she may be, she is unfailingly loyal.”

“But Lady Guinivere!” A rotund officer protested, “We haven’t been able to break her out of jail for the past two years. Can we really afford such a risk?”

“And even if we DID get her out,” The most square man Sebastion had ever seen added with a wagging finger from his ham fist. Or perhaps he was simply a very round Gobkin. “Who’s to say her endeavors might just give more of our positions away?!”

“I’ve heard stories about her. She’s the strangest terror to ever appear in the East!” The most average-looking man Sebastion could imagine shuddered. Probably a Shifter, the boy couldn’t help but think.

“No one knows where she came from…or what she’s capable of.” A Tuarian officer murmured with a swish of her spikey tail. Sebastion almost jumped to avoid its dramatic gesture.

“She’s insubordinate and dangerously feral.” A white haired, frail-looking gentleman agreed with a serene, authoritative wheeze. “Forgive me, Lady Guinivere, but despite your trust in her, I still question her loyalty and perhaps sanity.”

 “Regardless…” Lady Guinivere stated above their concerns, “She has proven herself loyal before and I believe it shameful we haven’t gotten a loyal companion out of captivity much sooner. She has intelligence and tech like no other. We still use her private networking systems to remain unseen by the UAC internet monitoring and have been safer because of it. General, I nominate ex-officer Tiz to be Commander of the Engineering Corps.”

“If we do that she’ll be the only member of the Engineering Corps.” The General replied with a wry smirk. “And we have procured bail money. There will be no need for a prison break. However, we will need two volunteers to meet with the Guard.”

This time, Sir Lightning Rod didn’t even have to meet the General’s eyes to know who he had in mind.

“But, SIR!” He exclaimed. Sebastion couldn’t help but wonder why he looked as if he’d been asked to clean a snake ridden latrine…or rather, he wished he’d been asked to clean a snake ridden latrine rather than take the bail money for this apparently valuable ex-officer.

“You are the head of Diplomacy, Colonel Beaufoy.” The General replied to the stutters of protest issuing from the skinny colonel’s goldfish mouth. “It falls under your duty. That said, you are encouraged to take someone with you.”

Colonel Beaufoy mastered himself and gave a nod as weary as if he’d already accomplished cleaning the snake-ridden latrine.

“I-…uh…I can go with you if you wish…uh- Sir Colonel.” Sebastion stuttered out. His wings flicked inward to his shoulders in embarrassment and he prayed his face didn’t look as close to combusting as it felt. The silence that followed, with every eye and eyepatch in the room on him, Sebastion felt only slightly less comfortable than he had at family dinner mere months before. He tugged at his talons in nervous habit as he tried to get his mouth to work again. Not professional…but he had to do something to get his throat to cooperate.

“I know I haven’t been here long,” his voice rattled out, “Only a few months…and you probably don’t trust me yet. Oh, who am I kidding…it’s not even probably…but I…I can accompany you and help. Maybe we can even use my family name as leverage. I mean! Only if you approve, Sir!”

Too many words dropped from his mouth and bounced off the table and to the walls of the room far too quickly and his entire body shook from hair to toe. He shut his shaking jaw and put his arms behind his back in almost too perfect posture that probably only made his tremor more obvious. Stilling his knees at this point was a pointless struggle. He’d just have to pretend he could walk regardless of the officers’ decisions when the meeting closed. Who was he kidding, anyway? The only reason he was even AT this meeting was because he was babysat by Lady Guinivere. Again…of course it made sense since he could easily betray them after all. The less he was left unattended, the less chance there was of being a plant or turncoat of the UAC.

“The boy’s got a point, Olivier,” The square officer sighed with a glance to Beaufoy, but turning to the General. “You should tek ‘im. Who knows, maybe he’ll join you in diplomacy or summat. If he ken get over his stage fright.” He gave a friendly, teasing smirk to Sebastion, who just wanted to slide into the crack in the concrete floor he’d been kicking with his boots for the past fifteen minutes. He was almost surprised…and maybe in the slightest disappointed, to hear murmurs of approval of his offer. Beaufoy sighed.

“Very well. Sebastion and I shall take the bail money to Gesherne Jail and retrieve ex-officer Tiz and offer the position of Commander of the Engineering Corps. You know she won’t come back without her machines.” The General nodded at this.

“Offer her escort wherever she needs to get her machines or parts to make them. And…” The General trailed off with a reluctant sigh as he took a small bag from Lady Guinivere. “If all else fails…offer these.” He handed the bag to Sebastion as he was currently closer to him than the colonel. Sebastion felt something hard and round inside. What’s this? Money? Too brittle feeling…maybe it’s some kind of mechanical part…but that doesn’t make any sense. It feels more like food…

“Any questions?” The General interrupted his analysis. A crisp silence followed. “Very well. Colonel Beaufoy and Sebastion are to be given the money and depart within the hour. Meeting dismissed!”

Two hours later, Sebastion was questioning his existence as he and Colonel Beaufoy approached the Gershene jail in casual clothes. The UAC would never accept a military officer from a military whose existence they refused to acknowledge publicly, so they would just have to pretend they knew Tiz for other reasons.

The guards let them in to a sort of front desk, where a haggard, half-shaven mid-life-crisis aged man blinked up slowly from his folders in his desk drawer below.

“State yer business,” he drawled. His accent would have been pleasant if he were a bit more coherent.

“My name is Antoine Desrosier,” Beaufoy lied, “I have bail money for an inmate here.”

“I see.” The man behind the desk monotoned. “Name?”

“Tiz, sir.”

“GREAT GONZOR!” His half-shaven face looked even more disproportionate as his mouth gaped to reveal three missing teeth and his left eyebags seemed to deepen. Almost shaking, he turned to the guard to his left with a key. “Get this curse away from us.” He hissed, failing to be as quiet as he thought he was. The man turned back to Beaufoy.

“Very good, sir. Hand over the money and follow my associate down the hall.”

“That’s…that’s it?” Beaufoy asked. “No forms to sign? Nothing at all?”

“THAT’S IT!” The man half-thundered. It seemed everything he ever did was half. “You’ve nothing to fear, my good man! Once you and your companion escort her out everything is finished here.” Beaufoy looked at Sebastion for a beat, then back at the man who wore a half-smile, shrugged, and handed over the sack of coins before beckoning the boy to follow him and the guard down the hall.

The white-washed walls were depressing to say the least. The whole place either stank of reeking waste, sweat and blood or stung of disinfectant and harsh cleaning chemicals. Sebastion shifted uncomfortably in his hoodie as they passed countless creatures of every type sitting in these hellish hovels. The occasional jeer, the clanking of chains, scraping of metal on concrete, every sound echoed painfully off the pristine walls. It felt as if the reeking, stinging air itself was holding all the sounds right by Sebastion’s ears. Even the Resistance orphans don’t have it this bad. He thought, realizing almost every one of these poor souls was probably a political prisoner. Those punished for opposing the UAC, just like he was doing now.

The guard opened a door at the end of the hall and held it for them. As soon as they passed through, Sebastion felt like an anesthetic had been applied to his senses as the sensory overload was cut off quicker than it began once the door slammed shut. It was oddly numbing and disorienting. They turned left as the smell of bleach still stung his nose, but the only sound was their footsteps. He tried to tread lightly. Beaufoy’s steps were light because he was, but spoke of a certain amount of cautious confidence. The guard, a pretty average build, clunked more than either of them simply due to size, but also he seemed as weary as the man at the desk with the way his boots dragged and clunked just a bit harder than those who were fully awake. He opened another door at the end of the hall, exposing the blackness beyond.

“Daugh,” the guard groaned. “They forgot the lights. Please, stay here for a moment while I turn them on.”

“May I ask why the lights are off?” Beaufoy queried with his eyebrows quirked. Does he suspect it’s some form of torture? Sebastion wondered, but not for long.

“It keeps her calmer.” The guard replied, sounding not unlike a mother kept up until three by her child.

Calmer? Why would they have to keep her calmer?

The guard walked off and Sebastion glanced at the door, then back at Beaufoy who was checking his watch and his foot tapped in the slightest irritation. The only clear display about exactly what the colonel thought that Sebastion had yet seen. He looked at the door again.

“Is there a stain on the door?” Beaufoy asked, snapping Sebastion out of his thoughtful stare. Sebastion jumped and looked at him. He had a subtle smirk on his face that somehow made the boy feel a bit better about himself. But still not better enough not to stutter apparently.

“No, sir, I…uh…heheh you see I was just…”

“He never said you couldn’t peek. I just don’t bother because I can’t see. But perhaps you can.” Sebastion sighed in embarrassed relief, his wings flicking outward a little again as he peered into the room. He saw nothing but the steady glow of two eyes in the top right corner of the room, inches below the ceiling. There was a soft crunching, smacking sound and something hard and almost hollow sounding clattered on the ground. A growl from the darkness below the eyes, displeased it had dropped whatever that object was. The crunching continued. Sebastion began to back out of the room, wings poised to take off at any second remembering how unpredictable and feral the other officers had described her. Then the light came on.

In the top corner of the room, a small creature, surely no more than three feet tall…was sticking to the walls, munching on something. Her hair was shaggy and black with a single white streak sticking out. Her skin was pale, reptilian green and yellow, her sclera were also yellow and she had two little fangs peeking out of her mouth and a snake-like tail. Her little outfit was hidden by her tattered black poncho, but Sebastion noticed it was mostly tan and black. If the man at the desk earlier had half eye-bags and definitely less than half energy, this little creature had the full version of both. She detached herself from the ceiling and wall, grabbed the small cardboard cannister she’d dropped and walked up to the door of her cage, ignoring the guard when he returned and glancing back and forth between Beaufoy and Sebastion as she fished out and munched on the crackers in the cannister.

Beaufoy turned to the guard with a baffled expression on his face.

“I see no reason for her to be kept calm.” He commented. “She’s just eating crackers.” The guard sighed.

“We didn’t give anyone crackers today.” He replied. “In fact, we haven’t given anyone crackers in a month. And those aren’t even the usual ones! They’re a different brand we got two days ago and locked in the storeroom!” His tone made it clear that this wasn’t the first or even second time the guards had had a situation like this concerning Tiz. He took a deep breath and straightened his wrinkled uniform as if trying to look official.

“Tiz, these men have paid for your bail and shall escort you out.” He said, unlocking the door. She was silent for a moment.

“Can I keep the crackers?” Her voice sounded like it’d been shredded with a vegetable peeler at a young age, never fully dropped and still had some sandpaper stuck diagonally across her vocal chords. It was oddly fitting for her small, shaggy appearance and wide, lidless stare. The guard just sighed.

“Yeeeeeeeeeees, you can keep the crackers.” He droned with an exasperated sigh and eyeroll. He looked at Beaufoy and Sebastion. “She’s all yours now.” He quickly left. Sebastion hoped he was going to find some coffee.

Sebastion glanced back at the little creature to find her staring at him. He quickly broke eye contact. The next thing he knew, she’d crawled up onto his shoulders and head and was now looking him in the face almost upside-down inches away from his nose.

“A new one? Avixian?” She was addressing her words to Beaufoy, who nodded.

“Tiz, meet Sebastion. Sebastion, Tiz.” The greeting was now official. After a few seconds of the most uncomfortable stare Sebastion had ever endured, Tiz crunched one of her crackers, holding the cannister in her tail.

“I like him.” She rasped, and sat almost like a cat on his shoulder, her tail curled about her cracker cannister efficiently near her hand.

“Uh—Pleased to meet you?” Sebastion faltered, hoping he wasn’t as red as he felt. He scratched beneath his thin ponytail in an attempt to regulate his mild panic about suddenly being the climbing pole of someone the General thought of as a worthy officer before he could even blink.

“NOW!” Tiz said, raising her arm as if to get Sebastion to just give her a ride out. “Let’s go rescue my babies!”

“You…have kids?” Sebastion asked, trying to make conversation as he and Beaufoy walked. Tiz remained riding on his shoulder.

“Oh yes, I have many babies!” She replied. “I made them all myself!”

“I—would assume you did…” Sebastion was almost reduced to a mutter by her bluntness.

“Colonel Beaufoy?” Sebastion asked almost an hour later as they waited for Tiz to “rescue her babies” who were apparently in a high-tech security center of the UAC and she had insisted she go alone.

“Yes, Sebastion?”

“I don’t want to be rude or anything,” he started his reply, “But…what IS uh…Tiz? I don’t know how to address her right now…but I’ve been through the Books of Species and travelled all over with my parents before I left and…I’ve never seen anything like her before.” Colonel Beaufoy chuckled.

“Heh, don’t worry about it, kid. Nobody has. Or probably ever will again.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastion shifted to fully face the Colonel.

“Nobody knows what she is.” Beaufoy explained. “And she never talks about it. Even when asked.” Now Sebastion’s brain took an even more disturbing turn.

“Then…how does she…you know…have—”

At that moment, he was cut off by an enormous explosion removing the front of the security building. An attorney on a losing case couldn’t have been more grateful than him to be interrupted by something so unrelated.

The chaos after the blast was only increased by a literal horde of vehicles of varying sizes, shapes and uses charging out of the hole. Front and center was a large, horse-shaped vehicle, and Tiz was perched at the very top.

“MAMA’S HOME SO BAKE COOKIES FOR THE REUNION!!!” She whooped. Sebastion was amazed he could clearly hear her voice over all the pandemonium she had no doubt caused. Despite his initial shock, it suddenly clicked what she meant by “she made all her babies herself.” If possible it was more terrifying than his original understanding of the statement.

“I think it’s time we returned to tell the General our mission was a success.” Colonel Beaufoy suggested, a bit paler than usual if that were even possible.

“But don’t we have to bring her back with us??” Sebastion exclaimed, watching her ride her horse-mobile and cackling above all the shouts and explosions about her. NOW he understood why the other officers had their doubts.

“Do you think we can sneak all those vehicles into the base without being noticed? Let her hide them. She knows where to find us now. Unless you feel up to some experience training in dodging falling debris, I suggest we leave.”

“Right. Yes, sir.”

As the two of them ran back through the streets, Sebastion could only sit back in his mind and try to process what just happened…and just what kind of Commander of Engineering Corps the General had just gotten himself.

just a lil blip from something I started the other day :3 untitled oneshot for now perhaps I shall finish one day.

Luca closed the door to his room and leaned against it with a sigh. It was quieter here, and he kind of needed that. He let himself slide to the floor, his heels shoving the paper, pens, pencils and scraps that lay littered all about. What had he come here for again? His head ached and no amount of wincing and rubbing it helped. Might as well take his mind off it. He started picking papers up off the floor. The words were foreign to him. Was it his handwriting? He picked up a pencil and wrote “Don’t Forget” on the page. The writing matched exactly, but what had he written about that ended up on the floor? He let the scrap he’d written on fall to the floor and stacked the rest of the pages. He tried to read them, but they made as much sense as a land jellyfish would.

He looked further on at the blueprints scattered about the room as if they weren’t even his. When had he written all this? What was it for? Whatever it was, it was worth working on right away, but what were all the abbreviations about? The shorthand was even messier than the regular notes. They littered every surface in the room along with small metal spare parts. Had he bought those? A cold feeling began to clutch him in the gut.