#jumpnovember

GIRL IN A TANK TOP WITH A TRIFORCE TATTOO ON HER RIGHT ARM: No. You just like hearing yourself talk.

BUSINESS CLOWNSUAL ENTITY WHO DEMANDED THE SET BE "COOL OLD OFFICE WITH NIXON TUBES" THEMED TODAY EVEN THOUGH THAT DOESN'T REALLY FIT THE CASTLE VENUE SHE STOLE AT ALL: C'mon, honey, I'm a very intelligent woman. I have so many bites of wisdom for you that could really help you not go under for 3 MEGABYTES of amphibian best friend. You don't want my bites of wisdom? You don't want to get wrapped up in my beautiful thoughts? On like, life?

GIRL SURROUNDED BY THE PARAPHERNALIA OF HER PAST, COLOURFUL, BEAT UP, IMMATURE, ALL SICKLY-SWEET NOSTALGIA STABBED STRAIGHT THROUGH THE EYES: No. I'm good. I'm focusing.

PRESENTER WHO PLANNED THE SCHEDULE AROUND TODAY'S SUBJECT RESISTING MORE THAN THIS TO BE REAL: Hahah you sure are!!! We gave 90 of your PRIZED POSSESSIONS animating will AND THE ABILITY TO SHAPE YOU, and you zeroed right in on that pretty little relic of your high-school years, huh~? I mean it's only natural! Who doesn't get hung up on an OLD FRIEND from time to time?

GIRL WHO SPENDS A LOT OF TIME CUDDLING FLUFFY THINGS IN BED BUT WHO ALWAYS FEELS LIKE HER PLUSHIES ARE WATCHING HER, JUDGING HER: it just seemed… Ffuck OFF! It was just fucking calling me! Making me feel fucking guilty! You did something! You fucking did something! What the fuck's happening to me...?

STRANGE GIRL OBSESSED WITH THE PSYCHOLOGY OF STRANGE GIRLS: Oh, don't get me wrong, there's plenty to feel guilty about! You abandoned her!

GIRL WHO CALLED HER MOTHER LAST WEEK AND FELT AN ABYSSAL EMPTINESS FOR HOURS AFTERWARD: shhhut up!

MYSTERIOUS CLOWN-LIKE HYPNOTICIST WHO'S FEELING LIKE BEING THE SIZE OF AN AVERAGE HUMAN MOTHER HELPS LESS WITH THIS ONE THAN SHE EXPECTED: Plenty for a domme to play on there, but I cannot stress enough that we DID NOT do anything to make the virtual frog a competent hypnotist! This is a realm constructed of your own whims - plus some hypnotic help from our sponsors at the Divine Carrefour - and you are STILL LOSING TO THAT THING! LOOK AT HER GO!!!

GIRL CLUTCHING A PINK PLASTIC EGG IN A DEATH-GRIP AND WHO HASN'T BLINKED IN 6 MINUTES: I'm not losing!!! I'm just… I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for forgetting her. I want her to know I'm sorry. I mean you miss a few days, and… Um… …Shouldn't I be respectful? I can stop pplaying with her at any time. Stop being weird. Pervert fucking freak-

HOST WHO'S STARTING TO THINK IMPROPER, FRUSTRATED THOUGHTS ABOUT THE GUEST: IT'S FROM 2013! IT DOESN'T KNOW WHAT'S REAL! …And you won't either, not for long, not at this rate! I mean look at those drooping, fluttering eyes!

[STRANGE SQUAMOUS THINGS FROM ALL MANNER OF TIMES COO IN PERVERT EXCITEMENT. THEY NEED TO SEE THIS SPINY NEET PRIED OPEN, BARED]

GIRL WHO MISSES HERSELF. GIRL WHO MISSES HER FRIENDS AND THINKING IT COULD WORK OUT AND GETTING TO DO THE DRESS SPINNY THING FOR THE FIRST TIME FOR HER SISTER BEFORE IT ALL WENT TO SHIT AND ALL OF IT. AND MAYBE A SILLY LITTLE LCD FROG CAN EMBODY ALL THAT. IN A FUCKED UP CASTLE DREAMSPACE. GET OFF HER BACK: What? No, I… What are you talking about? Fuck you. …I'm sorry SuzieFrog, i didn't mean to swear, please don't look at me like that please don't look at me like that please please

CLOWNGIRL A LITTLE DISAPPOINTED THAT THEY DIDN'T NEED THE WII-BASED ANALOG HORROR SEGMENT SHE GOT READY (100000° EVIL WEATHER): Okay be honest with me here girlie ARE you going to undress for the digital frog?

EXTREMELY FUCKABLE NEET WITH BAGGY EYES AND BAD SKIN: I mean. if she wants…

[PRESENTER LOOKS AT GUEST WITH ABJECT DISGUST. ANOMALOUS BROADCAST SWITCHES TO PAY-PER-VIEW TRACK FOR POTENTIAL EROTIC AND "MINDSNUFF" CONTENT AND IS NOT DOCUMENTED. DISAPPOINTING. ELAINE: RUN MISSING PERSON REPORTS?]

It was one of the nicest buildings in the stronghold area. Plush couches and a beautiful high hilltop view out onto a town less devastated than most Wolf had seen — In recovery.

Wolf would go stir-crazy, here. But she could hope Oracle was okay.

There was a care here that most everywhere Wolf had ever seen didn't replicate. Bright-on-neutral colouring meant to make anyone feel at home. Receptionists, people smiling, order, directionality. It was bizarre. Not the kind of place you got given a once over, up and down, and then got told, 'alright, go get on with it, then' if you didn't whine and put on a show for the doctors in the old military, who were itching to throw back onto the front lines. They'd spit on you, too, probably. Deal with it yourself. Be a Paladin, your body is an instrument of Law and so shall right itself. Yeah, Wolf didn't miss the old government.

Someone as compromised as Oracle, they'd throw in prison, to be safe.

(…Which is part of how the succubi took the city, really. If you thought you were compromised, who would you go to?)

A dead era. The Metamorphosis Institute stood for something better. Public works: an appeal to the spirit of Public Good over every arch, in burnished bronze plaques in every section. Big ideas, philosophies, Duckear Town's pet project. A good project. Clean as the day it was built.

It was nice here. In a sense. But Wolf wouldn't want to stay.

…

…Oracle's face lit up when she saw her commander. She was ushered into the room by a fussbudget of a man Wolf didn't recognise (and who ducked out of the room the very first second he was no longer required). Wolf's old teammate turned (eyes a touch confused, distant), saw Wolf, and broke out into a wide, happy grin.

The was a smile of a freed woman, or a woman who, for a couple hours of her day, now got to pretend she was free. Left Wolf not knowing what to do with herself.

Except... Old memories. Wolf opened up for the hug... sat down, let Oracle coo over her. And once they got into it... It wasn't hard. More than that, it was like her scout, their Oracle, had never left. Been taken from her. And, hey: it was the least Wolf could do to make her feel welcome. Dr. Something-or-other — over there, across the room, watching them beatifically — had stressed the importance of that, in the lead-up.

"Crystal has been doing great. A town like this is basically home for her," Wolf was saying, snuggling — yeah, really back into the swing of it — into Oracle, holding her, keeping them together (making all of the moment that she could). "Seaside. Decent people who need some help. It's good for her soul. A chance for her to rest. And we all know she needs it."

"Not working herself to death, then?" Oracle's voice was small, but it always had been. It had a regular rhythm that'd always soothed Wolf.

Had she ever told her that? ...Fuck.

"Despite her best efforts." Wolf gave a lopsided grin; Oracle, slightly shy, returned it. "Ivy keeps her company. I think they've been playing tourists."

Every time her eyes lit up, a bit of the haze left them.

"Oh, Ivy's always talked to me about, um, all the places she wants to visit. Places she'd take me if we ever… Won. She's kind of a secret romantic. Hides it from you, because, y'know. Image."

Wolf smiled. Privately, at the joke: Ivy hadn't really hidden it, not well. But Wolf had laid the trail for Oracle to jump into the conversation, the one way she knew how. (Alive, present, here…)

"It's crazy. But, they seem happy, you know? Properly."

Oracle let out a little micro-grasp; cut off self-consciously. Like a less intense version of how she reacted to numbing agent on a wound. Relief from pain, painfully. Wolf's heart did funny things, watching her.

"That's good. That's… really good."

"It's a lovely town, here," chimed in the third voice in the room. "Everyone who visits keeps reminding me. I'm sure they're having a wonderful time."

Wolf looked to the window. Sunlit view across the hills. "Yeah. 's nice."

When she could, Wolf shot a look over to the doctor. That perfect face smiled back at her, utterly neutral, watching. …Wolf didn't know the woman's tells. Not enough time.

But if she got them Oracle back…

"Who's winning the tally?"

Oracle's voice. Small. Careful, in asking. (...fuck.)

"Oh, yeah. Ivy, still."

"Oh, lords, how smug is she being?"

"Com~plete bitch." Wolf intoned, nodding solemnly. Oracle giggled.

"What's your plan if she wins the year?"

Wolf's planned reward had involved an elaborate dragon-themed prank relying on Oracle. "Ah, I'm sure I'll think of something."

"Best start thinking no~ow," Oracle said. Then, she sighed. "Ah, fuck. I was so close to beating her."

To punctuate, Wolf snuggled up to her scout, even closer. Scruff of her fluffy jacket up against her. Oracle breathed in — shoulders relaxing down. They tangled hands together, and Oracle felt so fucking delicate...

I miss you. Painful, through the chest.

"…Hey. Once you get out of here, you can get right back on it. We'll find you, like, a fucked up church full of Warped Ones—"

"Um." This from the doctor.

"...And let you blow it up in one go, somehow."

"Well."

"You'll catch up in one day, and she'll be really upset, but she'll have to celebrate it and you'll get to watch her simmer." Wolf smiled. "How's that sound?"

Oracle breathed. "Wonderful, commander." A more familiar edge to that voice, now. Wolf smiled wider.

"Maybe you should tell her how your life has been going, Oracle?" the psychologist intoned, in a new kind of voice.

Oracle looked down. Pulled away. Hands in her lap. Cute, but cute like a schoolgirl.

"Yes, Dr. Symbal. Um! Everyone's been really nice. There's plenty to do. It really feels like I've been taken in. They've let me volunteer around…" A smile, slight, genuine: "learned a lot more about food prep."

"Oh yeah?"

Even while talking with Oracle, Wolf kept one eye on the doctor. Symbal. Her hair done up tight, mouth pressed, eyes languid and watching.

"Yeah! There's sort of a bunch of ways to make things taste better that they dont teach you, back home. Ways to stretch rations... God, when I get back, I might change e~everything about how we eat."

Symbal fidgeted at that last part. She opened her mouth to respond to that herself.

Wolf projected her voice. Outmatched her. "Oh, that's great! Yeah, I don't know shit. I don't know that any of us know shit. Don't teach you that in hero school, yeah? I'll put it all in your capable hands."

Oracle giggled—

"Yes," Symbal said, re-asserting, "Good. But we should talk about your progress, Oracle."

Oracle wilted. "Yes, ma'am."

Ma'am? The wrongness of it hit Wolf in the side, again. Suddenly everything in this room was skewed. Suddenly this town was too nice, again, and the sun was being a right bitch, shining down on it, as if everything was okay. Oracle was cut off from them, in the care of people—

That they could trust. Rebels, hand in hand. Standing for something other than the decay of the world. Heroes, one and all, wasn't it?

But it was wrong. Not because of Symbal, really, (although…). But because Oracle shouldn't sound like that. It made Wolf want to scoop her subordinate up and sweep her away, run into the forest. They'd be okay.

"I tried to run away," Oracle confessed.

"Shit." Wolfs heart beat faster. "What?"

"Go back. I had a whole plan, and everything. But they stopped me, and they were really… Nice, gentle. There's this paladin they have on security, Temperance, and she's really nice. We've been getting to know each-other, after."

Fuck this. Fuck all of this. ...And Symbal had been saving this?

"It's been nice," Oracle said, as if she read into Wolf's distress as her own failure. "I'm okay."

"Progress has been stop and start," said the woman responsible for Wolf's friend, in an even tone, "I have to admit. Oracle is a unique case. These things take time."

That tone, at the end… Hairs on the back of Wolf's head, and she suddenly wanted to scratch at something. But without a target.

This is her job. Calm down, woman. Paranoid. Always too tense around people. Crystal would say...

Wolf had asked --- demanded, towering over the Doctor --- to be kept updated on every step of the process, those couple months ago. If nothing else than to throw cold water on that fantasy of dragging Oracle out of here herself.

…But not from Oracle's mouth.

"Wolf?" Oracle asked, small.

"Yeah," she grunted, "time. Hey, we don't have to talk about this, now. Uh, I could tell you about the last operation, if you like—"

"Wolf, do you really think that's a good idea?" Symbal interrupted. Fuck, even with her bad people skills, Wolf heard the exasperation.

Wolf turned on her.

"Yeah. I know her. She's mine."

There was a beat. Oracle retreated into Wolf, as if she could hide behind her. From being seen. And Wolf put a hand on her back. Quietly encouraging.

Symbal held her gaze. Wolf's instincts kept trying to pick her apart, sense the doctor's attention. She just watched.

"...Oracle," Wolf murmured, turning back to her teammate. Settling in, as Oracle made a small, shy noise at the attention. "What do you need?"

"I need, um…" Oracle shook her head. "Sorry, it always feels weird. Scratchy at the back of my head. You're doing fine. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise."

"Yeah, but you came all this way—"

"You do not need to apologise."

"Mm." Oracle brushed hair from her face, eyes downcast, lost in thought.

"You're… Can we talk about stuff? Anything. Hearing your voice is… really nice. You have a nice voice. Steady."

Wolf titled her head. Not used to Oracle complimenting her like that. "Sure."

She regaled Oracle with tales of what they'd been up to, fighting the good fight up and down the country, and all. Team chemistry. Underlined that they were safe, they were fine, nobody was putting themselves into risky situations.

And Oracle, with each sentence, pulled into her further. Her eyes became engaged, she nodded along… Came into the conversation more, as she listened.

I swear on all that I am, that I'll never let you go again.

When was the last time Oracle's life had gotten to be normal? That's what Wolf kept coming back to. Their normal, as a cadre. There'd been the week she was acting as the enemy's agent from within the group. Was she aware of that deception stressed about it? Or had she been autopiloting through it? Something else?

And then, being turned into… whatever they'd recovered. Some completely different girl in her skin. Glowing purple eyes, wide smile, pleading that she'd chosen this, wanted it. And then again, now, here. Stuck here. This nice building. Where Wolf couldn't stop twitching.

Never again, never again. As long as I live.

"Oracle, dear," Symbal broke in, then, during a lull. "You seem quiet. If this topic of conversation makes you uncomfortable, we can always more on to… No?"

Oracle had started shaking her head, fierce.

"No, this is good, I feel comfortable. This feels nice. I'm just kinda… Sleepy."

"…Oracle, this is your first opportunity to socialise with a friend after so long. I really think you should try and—"

"Oh!" Oracle said, as if realising something. She gave her commander a puzzling little smile. 'My bad.' It was like Oracle'd become her interpreter for some kind of language for therapists, their culture, separate. Some manner of Therapy Speak. "I don't mean sleepy in the maladaptive way, doctor. I literally mean, sleepy. Relaxed. I like being held, like this." Wolf felt her clutch on tighter. "Missed this."

"Well," Wolf huffed. She made a gesture with one arm, at Symbal, "she knows what she wants. Who am I to deny her, huh?"

"…Paladin Wolf's time is very valuable. It's only— You were making so much progress at—"

"My time isn't any more fuckin' valuable than anyone else's damn time, Doctor," Wolf groaned. "It's all time. Buzz off."

That got her to pipe down. But Oracle flinched.

"Please don't argue." Different thing in her tone.

"Hey, Oracle, Oracle, Oracle—"

And then Wolf swept Oracle up in her arms — she fit just so. As always. The girl actually squeaked.

"—You're safe. See? We can do whatever you like."

And Oracle looked up at her, pleading. "Mm... I want to... I want to feel. Actually, really here. Now."

"You're safe, little thing. You're here. I promise you're safe. I can be here as often as you like. As often as I can" —

she hadn't known if she'd want to be with Oracle through this, or go feel weird about it all at a tavern somewhere, going in. but now she was committed, wasn't she?

— "You're safe here. No matter what."

Punctuating each thing with a touch. Squeezing her little scout, rubbing that hand with one thumb. Practically engulfing her in constant little affections.

Oracle gave her a smile in return. A real one. "Dr. Symbal is nice. She's really helping me. A few weeks ago, I wasn't even really... talking. I was really, um, bad, for a while there. Started… atrophying? Myself, my self. Um. That's why she's fretting about it."

Wolf smiled. "You seem like yourself to me."

——

wolf was so pretty.

Every piece of her, in so many ways that she didn't even realise. The softest hair in the world, which Oracle now pet, idly: her Commander so used to the contact that she hadn't even reacted. Used to all her pack's touches. Always, always, except when Oracle went. Went away.

Wolf had the most earnest eyes in the world, when she wasn't being harsh, and her voice was gruff in a way that rumbled its way down to Oracle's heart and made her feel at peace, safe, safe, safe… She needed that. Fuck, she'd needed this. Dr. Symbal and the staff were competent, calming in their own right. But this…

Weeks, to talk. Weeks, to stop eyefucking Dr. Symbal. Stop expressing desire. Told over and over to look inside of herself — 'inside of herself', as if there was anything there at all — and tell that… straggler of Her influence to quiet down. to stop being so obvious. think about it later. in bed, presumably not watched, but with a staff member only strides away, behind that door, there.

She didn't have to contain any of that with Wolf, and it didn't even feel like betraying herself, mostly. Because it had been like this. Exactly like this. She missed that touch.

Her gut twisted around, embarrassed, worried she'd push it too far… She kept reaching for the tendrils of control around her, to remind her of the reason she was letting herself get touched by this Paladin, this Wolf, this enemy. Her secret scheme, their plan. To be together, forever. One last step, and then...

But it was gone. That woman over there had taken it all away. Though her stomach kept doing a flippy thing that'd become ingrained.

Every time she'd accepted her Commander's touch, when she was a secret traitor, she'd taken it while thinking of her— her kidnapper's 'love'. Now playing out in her stomach, running up and down her nerves. it made her feel violated.

there was a weird heat in her abdomen.

She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to believe in the wholesome touch — not that pervert thing she secretly wanted from just about any woman she interacted with, desperate, giddy, reducing — that she'd missed so, so much.

…

She wanted to believe she wanted to feel safe. she wanted to believe she wanted. that her wants a careful thing made to deceive both of the other woman in this room. and everyone in the building. and her entire team, so that one day she could get out, get out, go back to where it all made sense where she could not

have

a self again.

…

She was doing so well at having a self, though. She wanted to enjoy this. Couldn't she enjoy this? Without the reminder of the yawning void beneath her?

So the girl who these people called Oracle mustered everything, nuzzling deeper into Wolf, and opened her mouth to say something, anything. A thank you. A pleading, desperate list of all of her sins.

"I wish that was true." She shook. "I wish I felt like myself."

"Oracle?"

But I don't. I don't feel like anything in particular. I'm just here.

"You will," Wolf promised. "You'll get there. You will".

...

wolf was fluffy. wolf was safe; with Wolf, and Wolf alone, she was safe, and oh yes, felt safe. a feeling of safety built from a thousand touches, a thousand operations — exploring around in the woods of the country, keeping each-other warm, making desperate promises over and over and overandover. Those times, round the fire, eating bad rations, hurry-up-and-wait yet generically happy. She wanted that for herself. Or some version if it.

here, again, maybe she had a self. but that felt like a lie.

Wolf was acting like they'd ever let her fight again, but she knew that wasn't true. She didn't trust her wants, anymore, anyway.

more than anything: she wanted her cadre.

(she wanted her cadre. horny bbitch. or was that one healthy?)

And she tried to fight for the version of that that'd make a good story for Dr. Symbal. She really did. 'I miss my friends, I'm optimistic'. I want to get out here, get out of this, on my own terms. Fight for it. Fight that void she felt underneath her, pulling her down —

(squeezing herself into Wolf, pushing her hands into her thighs for a reminder that she was here, she was real, she had a body, she was real)

— Imagine a girl, vaguely similar to this 'Oracle' she'd heard so much about (and she did suppose was her). But at the same time, someone... In need of love, hurt. Hurt by all of this: the exact kind of person that old Oracle fought for, fought against tyranny and evil to protect.

A girl so very young, so very small in the grand scheme of this spiraling war, who hadn't realised how she could end up exiled from herself. That she could have had a life — damn the Paladins, damn the cycles, damn every stained glass window. And that instead, one day, a woman, some fucking woman — not so special, only so powerful... That with the right touch, the right Chaotic boons, and with enough bad luck, that someone could do that to her. take her. remake her, reshape her, fuck her brains out.

she shivered. She hadn't known. She hadn't known! It was unfair. this was so fucking unfair.

...She should care about her, right? She should be happy that the one of her that happened to be sitting here was getting to hug Wolf, again. After everything.

But.

…It felt, these days, like her soul was a winding, intangible tapestry, except that almost every chapter of note had been torn out. There were entire parts of her that she wasn't allowed to access — or rather, beg someone else to access for her. Say the pretty words, change her. But Symbal had deprogrammed the trigger words out from her, and so now, the girl in Oracle's place supposed, she was supposed to let her soul stitch itself back together. Create something new from the dangling threads. And it wasn't not happening. Slow going, but words had come back to her, and an ability to accept touch — which was certainly serving her well now, and so, in that sense, she wanted to heal.

…

but through the gaps in herself. the girl who was trying, so very hard — but no-one seemed to notice that! Nobody actually told her she was doing good — they told her that she was good for letting Symbal tinker with her head! Take out all the pretty conditioning that let her ignore all these… fucking, feelings!

(…Well. Ignore that she'd gotten into this mess because she'd stared into an expert tinkerer's eyes for a split second too long.)

Scared, antsy, wanting to do right by Wolf... All of those feelings, broken apart, fractured heat all across her body, only confused by the doctor's efforts… too intense, too intense. She breathed into Wolf's chest, trying not to sound desperate. Stroking her Commander's hair, still, and being held around the back in return. Wolf had a way of saying nothings, keeping her mouth moving. But that helped.

...Through the gaps in herself, you could still find all of the conditioning.

Here was a girl, living in Oracle's body, who was made up of all of the images and bits that were supposed to make up any given girl. But re-constructed, like a haphazard fortress built in desperation. But, itt was hers, right? Her self.

… And Wolf,

through her endless, enveloping softness, and more than that: the little breaths on her neck, like the fluttering of tiny wings…

Wolf had...

"Boss?"

"Yeah?"

"…Look, It's not your fault. It's really not your fault."

Wolf's hands tightened on her.

"I know. I'm… I've been trying to believe that."

"No," the girl said, shaking her head into Wolf's chest. "That's not what I mean."

She has to know that I'm doing better. She has to. She can't take this to mean—

I dont want her to never want to see me again.

It was the littlest thing. Not a reinforced trigger, because Symbal had made her reveal all of those.

The exact opposite: a single night, during her conditioning. In the castle. Candles lit, all smelling of honey. Giggling, stupidly, in Miss' arms, so proud she was destroying herself so well. Debasing herself. Losing her fucking mind. Conviction screaming at her to stop ignoring her Lawful self, her impulses, to use her powers to do something — all turned by Miss into a sickening, lovely pleasure. Running through her body.

But she'd been scared. Whimpering and whining and then back to giggling. The fear was real, and not fun, and she'd clutched the demoness who'd broken her and begged her, quietly, to make it stop. That she was scared.

And her owner had told her, with loving, adoring conviction:

"You're safe. You're safe."

…Which wasn't a trigger, it wasn't! She hadn't even been in her trance state at the time. And on any other day, maybe she could have resisted it.

but.

she wanted wolf back, more than anything. and miss was gone. and everything was gone—

She let out a whisper of a gasp.

"Hey, Oracle, what do you mean?" Wolf shook her — gently. "What do you mean, little thing?"

"Mmnn…"

(She thought she heard Dr. Symbal stand up, somewhere far away.)

She held the image of that girl in her head as long as she could. The one she should be fighting for. The one she could still be. What would she look like? Strong of heart and same of self. Confident in who she was. She'd be strong, she'd have friends; everyone in this town would probably adore her, or pity her, for going through something so awful, so violating, and making it through. And she was a Paladin — famous, someone to look up to, and didn't she always like inspiring the kids?

…

a sickly sweet version of her own voice came, and tapped, gently, on the tower of things that she imagined about herself.

You don't want to go back to fighting for them, do you? Tap. You don't really want to be strong. Taptap. The structure wobbled.

For Wolf, she bit back at herself. For Wolf, for Wolf, for Wolf.

An invasion of demon-tinged convictions went through her, out of her. Another small gasp. Wolf held her tighter, communicating worry. This was all happening so fast — it'd been happening, really, the whole conversation.

This was just her. Inevitably fucking losing.

feel how hard she's gripping you? she likes you acting like this. hazy, needy. she doesn't realise it, but she loves it. lean into that. It's not that hard to manipulate her.

(You've done it before.)

(Even before we made you into what you are. You've always wanted her to like you, haven't you? More than the rest. More than anything else. Clingy girl. It's so good that we unearthed all that. So much better for you.)

Taptaptap. Her house of cards started to fall apart. She felt it: parts of herself falling down, down, into oblivion. this shell. this thing she'd built up around herself—

Was holding! It was! Wolf hadn't even meant any of it. She wanted oracle to be herself. She did!

"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay. I'm sorry, nevermind, it's nothing," she babbled.

"Oh, Oracle," said the one voice, the one she liked —

"Oracle?" said another, intoning, demanding. The other voice, the woman who had taken something from her —

Vertigo, falling, collapsing into herself—

No, Oracle refused. Yelling into the void, which was roaring at her now, demanding, taking, always fucking taking! So with all her mustered Self, Oracle screamed back:

Miss is gone! That woman is gone! And she's never coming back.

A pause. …Nothing immediately punished her for her outburst. No conditioning lanced itself through her brain like so many magicked arrows to reprimand her. …She breathed in. Let it out.

"I'm okay," Oracle said. "I'm—"

Oh.

If Miss was gone, she could just—

You can be strong, and nobody else will ever touch you like that again.

Or.

Like a feeling of being snapped into some new, contorted shape.

"…okay."

the void forced malleability onto her.

mother me, love me, tell me sweet things. take me. simple. nice. always nice when the thoughts go simple again.

She knew what she had to say.

"Sorry, I went away for a second." She flashed her best smile at Symbal, who was approaching, concerned. The world returning. "I'm okay now, doctor. Nothing bad. It's passed."

The doctor looked unconvinced.

"Oracle? Tell me where your thoughts are." Ooh, so commanding when she needed to be!

"I had a flashback. Like we talked about. I…" she bit her lip in a way that tended to get a reaction from Wolf. "I just felt so guilty, about betraying Wolf. And the others. Don't be upset with her, Dr. Symbal. I don't think Wolf wants to hear me talk much, right now."

"I— Oracle, of course I—"

"Sorry!" the girl in Wolf's lap spoke over her commander's hesitation. Oh, gosh, this felt good. Closed her eyes, smiled in a wide satisfaction. "That came out self-deprecating, didn't it? Doctor, Wolf shows her appreciation very physically. It's how she is. We're only making up for lost time."

"Um. Yeah, we…" a pause. "Symbal?"

"…I think it would be a good idea for us to take a short break, Wolf."

Eyes wide open. A breath. No! She wouldn't. Would she?

Wolf said it for her. "Already? No, what?! That can't be…"

Wolf paused. Studyed the girl in her lap for a bit. And began, slowly, pulling away. "Sorry, I shouldn't… I don't mean to yell. What do you want, Oracle? You said you, um, went 'away'? Are you—"

"Shh, shh, shh, you're right. You're right. I agree with you," Wolf's scout said, with that happy smile on her face. "That church full of demons, I'll do that for you, I'll take them all out. Ah, someday, I will, I will, I will. I'll do it for you."

"Oracle…?"

Oh, gosh, she probably wasn't doing a good job of lying, wasn't she? She giggled. She didn't usually giggle, but it always made Wolf smile, like she'd won some prize. Goal-oriented girl, that one. So she gave that to her. Exactly the sound she made around the campfire, that cold Fall night in the mountains…

Wolf gave a hesitant little smile. Like she couldn't help it. Conditioned.

It made her feel giddier. "You're so fluffy. You're so fluffy. I want this more than anything in the world. Lord, I missed this."

And Oracle leaned in closer. Whispered, for the two of them. "I should've seen it earlier."

"Oracle." Wolf didn't have a tone like she was talking to a squadmate, not anymore. More like another soldier. "Seen what?"

Oracle took in a happy breath.

"The two of you. You're so similar."

A fraction of a beat passed. Then, Wolf's eyes widened—

And two men broke into the room in a sprint.

——-

The speed of things left Wolf suspecting that Symbal had expected this.

At first, she'd clutched Oracle to herself. She had the exact reaction to two men suddenly bearing down on her — trying to tear one of her girls from her — that you'd expect: she gripped Oracle, tight, and practically growled as she summoned up her power —

Her power that was dampened, here.

They took Oracle, and the girl didn't fight, but Wolf did. Jockeying with her. She caught Oracle smiling at her, eyes going wide as she clung on tighter, never not smiling. She'd probably leave marks on the girl's skin, like this, but still she held on, and for a moment — just a moment —

…for a moment, her judgement was compromised. That was all. Symbal was shouting at her, shouting her down:

"No, Wolf! She's not safe! This isn't—"

A mans arms snaked through the tangle, wresting Wolf back, forcing her arms to give up their give. A practiced motion. Wolf threw herself to the floor, flowing onto her feet. Fixing the men with her meanest fucking look.

She knew one, a kind-faced ex-Paladin who'd reassured her about the whole process. He stood fowards to obstruct her. More than anything — infuriatingly — he still looked politely sad, the exact same look he'd had when they talked the first time.

He handed Oracle off to the other man, who Wolf had never fucking seen before, and who was burly and utterly-stone faced in a way that made her hate him. Her body was thrumming. She was shaking.

"Wolf, Wolf—"

And Dr. Symbal was trying to fucking talk to her.

"What the fuck?"

Oracle was shaking. now. She wasn't fighting it. Her shoulders were hunched in.

Symbal and her oh-so-sad subordinate talked over each-other, for a moment:

"She was—" "Wolf, please—"

And then, more important than either of them, came Oracle's voice.

"It's not your fault! It's not your fault, It's not your fault," insistent, steady yet desperate for understanding, her insistence silencing the room. "You didn't say anything bad, it's not your fault. It just happened. It just happened."

She seemed so vulnerable. When, ever, had her scout looked so naked, under-dressed as he was in civilian clothes, now? When, ever, had she ever begged like that? Needed like that?

It broke Wolf's heart. It paralysed her.

(…It did something else.)

And then — as if everyone else was done waiting to see if Wolf was going to start stabbing people — the moment broke, and she was gone. Co-operating with the boys rushing her out. Then, with the closing shut of a thick door, silence.

Leaving Symbal to answer. Wolf spun to face her.

"Why?" Wolf basically shouted, right as Symbal opened her mouth. The woman looked genuinely scared, for whatever that was worth. Then: gathered herself.

"…She was… having a moment. The type we shouldn't encourage."

"A moment? Care to be more fucking specific?"

"You—" Oh, and she went to sounding so cross, the moment someone said something the woman disagreed with. She squinted. "She was practically groping you."

"She was— that was—"

…Okay. Yeah. Thinking back. That was true. Wolf had barely noticed.

Wolf deflated. Remembered exactly how the girl had been acting, only a few months ago. "Fuck me. But that's still a fucking overreaction, isn't it? She said it had passed."

(She said something else, too, a part of Wolf said, underneath the adrenaline rush. Lords above. …Whatever. Think about that later.)

(Fuck.)

"She would have said anything, in that state. To get what she wanted. Couldn't you tell? That she'd gotten... That she'd changed over."

Yeah, a lot of girls will 'say anything' if you have two big fucking guys waiting to grab her!

Wolf didn't say that. But the vitriol rose in her throat, demanding, still. "Oh, fuck you."

"It's my building, Wolf. Trust me, if we didn't break her up from you in that state, she might have done permanent damage to her own recovery." Symbal moved to leave — out to the foyer, implicitly inviting Wolf to follow her out. "And potentially to you."

She hesitated. Then: "You don't know everything about her, anymore. You have to trust me on these things. If we're going to get anywhere, you have to trust that I understand her better than you do."

The worlds lanced something through Wolf's heart. Got lodged there. She didn't expect it. Wanted to bite back. Except that she didn't have an immediate answer.

its walls muddled with mold and other fungus to the point that you cannot see the paint behind it in some places

dust cakes the floor and leaves footprints when you walk, showing the path you take as you trek through this antique window into a lost and decomposed past

walking through the lobby you find a light switch, and to your delight you find that the building is still powered somehow, you see at the end of the room is an elevator, and though everything else is decaying and broken, the elevator looks almost new, with everything appearing intact

there are two buttons, one with a down arrow, and one up

you press the button to go up and it lights up

it takes some time for the elevator to open, to the point that you almost think that the elevator is in fact broken, but eventually the door opens with a cute chime

you enter the elevator

the interior is cute and lit under warm lights, with a psychedelic pattern on the carpet, and some abstract art on the wall

there are only two buttons on this elevator, like the exterior

one up arrow, and one down

you press the up arrow, and the elevator hums to life

there's a interface on the wall above the buttons, currently reading "1"

with a cheery beep the interface counts up to "2"

the doors do not open, which is strange, and the lights brighten a little

with another cheery beep it counts up to "3"

again the doors remain closed and the lights brighten again

this time you notice that not only is the room brighter, but its slightly more saturated, the sounds of the elevator slightly louder than before

it beeps again, "4"

you start to see more patterns in the carpet and art, more colors in them, the rumbling of the machine you are currently inside grow more intense

"5"

you become more aware of the clothes you're wearing, how they feel on your skin, your joints and organs and everything inside your body you normally exist numb to

"6"

you're more aware of the temperature of the elevator, its becoming significantly warmer than you noticed before, you remove a layer of clothing, taking off a face mask and jacket, along with your gloves

"7"

the colors are so bright and vibrant now, that some of them are starting to hurt your eyes to look at, you can no longer stare directly at the lights in the ceiling

"8"

at this point the chime has become more startling than comforting, being louder than you are comfortable with, you've removed another layer of clothes as the very stitching of your shirt have started to become too uncomfortable to wear, you are now fully exposed to anything that may be on the carpet or in the air of this strange elevator

"9"

its becoming harder to think over the sounds and sights and feelings in here, you're starting to see other shapes in the art, almost like faces or people, your feet are firmly planted on the carpet but you feel yourself rising with the elevator, its nauseating how fast you're moving, you definitely feel like its moving faster but the time between floors hasn't changed

"10"

you can see the individual brush strokes, the individual strands of carpet that you stand on, every small light that makes up the interface, so very bright, and so very beautiful, you've been naked for at least the last floor, and you can feel the open air against your skin that brushes up against your arms as you move them

"11"

every rattle of the machine can be felt in your bones, you can feel every shift in weight and length of belt as this machine is pulled higher, and higher, pulling you, higher, and higher

"12"

this chime you heard before it went off

you could hear the high pitched ringing of electricity flowing through the veins of this machine before it was told to chime

you can feel your own blood in a similar way now, the way it flows through you, and pumps through your heart, in a very similar way to the rattling of this beautiful creature you currently reside in

"13"

it almost deafens you

its becoming harder to differentiate yourself and the stimuli, where the feeling of your body ends and the feeling of the machine starts, everything in the room has become blinding to focus on, every sound has begun blending together in a confusing symphony of noise

you press down before it becomes too much

"12"

"11"

"10"

everything is starting to become more palatable again, you stared to get a headache at some point

"9"

"8"

"7"

"6"

"5"

you start to feel normal as the machine soon reaches the ground floor

"4"

"3"

"2"

"1"

as you reach your floor you realize the machine has not stopped as you expected it to

"0"

how hubristic

"-1"

this elevator is dull, and stupid, and you wish you never rode in it

"-2"

you think about what lead to this, what you were even doing here, why you even thought this was a good idea in the first place

"-3"

the room is darker than before, and the art is starting to lose it's color, you don't think you like the implications of what down could do to you

"-4"

the room is continuing to get darker and the art has lost more of its color, you don't think you like how it feels to go lower

"-5"

you can't feel any difference in the elevator, though your body is starting to go numb a little, it feels like you're wearing a layer of cloth across your whole body, your hands feel like mittens

"-6"

as you sink deeper it becomes harder to think about more complex feelings or thoughts, you can't feel your face or the carpet, and the buttons don't respond when you press them anymore

"-7"

you keep going lower, and lower, and as you sit in the elevator its almost comforting, like a blanket

you don't have anything to worry about in here, you don't really have much to think about here either but that doesn't seem to matter much anymore

"-8"

its becoming harder and harder to focus on anything in the room, and as you sink deeper you start to care less about that, and just lay in numb comfort as you feel everything slowly crawl downward

"-9"

its becoming harder to think about anything now, and you don't know if the elevator has gone dark or if you just can't open your eyes anymore, you continue to drift down in an empty space

"-10"

you keep sinking lower, and lower

"-11"

you keep sinking deeper and deeper

"-12"

lower

"-13"

and lower

"-14"

deeper

"-15"

and deeper

"-16"

until eventually

"-17"

"-18"

you lose even the chime in the darkness, keeping you grounded

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

""

"

"

"

"

.