#two legs

Duality Scene

“So what comes after you handle Dr. Alvarez and our Sire’s sins?” she asked curiously.

“I don’t know anymore,” Two Legs admitted, more to himself than her. “I mean, I was planning to travel to the States, see if I could find other Plaga like us. Rejoin a hivemind. That’s been my prerogative since leaving the village. But if you’re here—if there are others like us—then I don’t have to leave Spain.” He paused. “Wait…are you part of a hivemind?”

“Yes and no.” For the first time, The Many frowned. She took a breath, glancing along the beach as she searched for the right words. For all her experience living as a human, translating feeling into language still felt clumsy. “I am Sovereign to a group of twenty, but the connection isn’t what it once was. The unity is there, but not the full bond. I think it has to do with how integrated we’ve become with our hosts—a give and take. We share their weaknesses now. Even their cognitive limits.” She glanced back at him. “Does that make sense?”

“I guess so.” He didn’t really know what to say. How could he, when it felt like something delicate he’d spent years building had just been crushed into pulp? Still, a trace of hope remained in his eyes as she sighed, almost nostalgic.

“Do you miss it, Hermano? The light?”

“Dios mío…” he whispered, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about it.”

The Many smirked. “Can you imagine it? If human beings had that kind of connection, with all the complexity of their emotions. Everyone unified. Nothing misunderstood.” She tilted her head. “It would either enlighten them beyond compare, or—”

“They’d destroy themselves,” Two Legs finished.

“Exactly.” She nodded.

He hesitated. “You’ve lived like this longer than I have. Do they have… anything close?”

“Sex.”

“Sex?” His cheeks warmed despite himself.

The Many smiled, curious. “Have you tried it, Hermano? In the nest or otherwise?”

“No—no.” He shook his head quickly. “My host has, but I haven’t…sought it out. What’s it like?”

“Good question.” She chuckled softly. “It’s nothing like the connection we feel in a hivemind, but it scratches the itch.” Her gaze drifted, thoughtful. “It also puts things into perspective. How they must feel when we invade their bodies.”

BG3 Fic

"Head Healer," the orcoblin cleared their throat, their voice rough—feminine, but edged in gravel. "Pardon the interruption. Brawl at the Crooked Nook. Three fractures. One punctured lung. You'll want to get a move on."

"Thank you. I'll be down shortly," Dalyria replied, then lifted a hand before they could leave. "Mayhaaps, any remaining rounds?"

"Just two kobolds who knocked their heads together. Why?"

"I'll take them. I need you elsewhere." Dalyria gestured lightly toward Ytarii, a small smile returning. "This patient is cleared to leave the ward, but will require supervision for five tendays. See that they’re assigned a pod."

Mayhaaps’ gaze flicked to Ytarii, one brow lifting slowly. "...Suppose I can manage that."

"Wonderful." Dalyria inclined her head toward Ytarii. "Return in two tendays for reassessment."

And just like that, she was gone—swept back into urgency before Ytarii could protest, question, or even ask about medication. Which left her alone with...

Mayhaaps.

Who immediately stepped far too close.

Ytarii barely had time to react before the orcoblin leaned in and sniffed at her. Deeply. She could almost count every nose hair that lined Mayhaap's nostrils.

"I knew your scent was off," Mayhaaps snorted, clearly amused as Ytarii recoiled.

"Uh, you're probably smelling the elixir. Or the spider venom—"

"Nah." A dismissive wave. "That rotten fruit note aside, you're mixed. Like me." Her eyes dragged over Ytarii’s face, lingering. "Nice baby scales you got there. Bet your family tree gave a few panic attacks. I'd pay to see your parents moaning to the heavens when they made a scales mutt like you!"

"Grandparent, actually," Ytarii corrected with a small, awkward laugh. "My bio parents were tiefling and human—my dad was half-dragonborn. It’s…less dramatic than it sounds."

"Yeah, yeah—save the genealogy lecture for someone who cares." Mayhaaps waved her off, already turning. "Up. On your feet and off your ass. I’ve got a schedule to keep and none of your sass."

She sing-songed the last part, completely ignoring the look Ytarii gave her. Still, Ytarii swung her legs over the side of the cot and pushed herself upright, slower this time. Her core protested immediately—a tight, pulling sting where the wound had been stitched, like something inside her wasn’t quite ready to cooperate yet.

She paused halfway up, breath catching, fingers drawing briefly against the edge of the cot before she forced the rest of the motion through.

Mayhaaps watched closely, measuring Ytarii's movements and determining whether she'd crumple or compensate. For a moment, the orcobolin thought she'd need to step in, but alas, it was unnecessary.

"Name’s Mayhaaps," she continued instead, already pacing a step ahead. "M as in Masturbation. A as in Avernus. H as in Hell. A as in Asshole. A as in…ass. P as in pie. S as in shit out of luck." She glanced back. "Got all that?"

"I…think so?" Ytarii winced slightly as Mayhaaps let out a sharp cackle.