- Location
- [REDACTED]
[X] Penguin Plushie.
[X] Videogames will be the great equalizer
[X] Videogames will be the great equalizer
Shimmer, Glimmer, & Gleam - A Quest of Loss & Gain
- Thread starter Morrowlark
- Start date
- Original Sci-Fi Fantasy Horror
[x] Penguin Plushie.
[x] Simply approach the council of children and explain the situation outright
Orchid, 1000% ready to describe every detail of what happened last night XD And now Sasha's curiosity is going to war with her mortified embarrassment
[x] Simply approach the council of children and explain the situation outright
Orchid, 1000% ready to describe every detail of what happened last night XD And now Sasha's curiosity is going to war with her mortified embarrassment
Fortuna
Court Astrologonomomancer
[X] A rat
We were all rats in a bag. (Yes, I know, that was my metaphor, I'm trying to make it a thing, don't, as they say, @ me.) Part of coming out the other side is maybe learning a rat's not such a bad thing. A rat can be cute. A rat can be loved. A rat does not always need to bite to be respected.
[X] Ask Kayleigh if she's comfortable with it, and if she is...
- [X] Simply approach the council of children and explain the situation outright
We were all rats in a bag. (Yes, I know, that was my metaphor, I'm trying to make it a thing, don't, as they say, @ me.) Part of coming out the other side is maybe learning a rat's not such a bad thing. A rat can be cute. A rat can be loved. A rat does not always need to bite to be respected.
[X] Ask Kayleigh if she's comfortable with it, and if she is...
- [X] Simply approach the council of children and explain the situation outright
So! This could have fallen into Road Crews or The Little Things, but I felt my idea fit better for the latter. And being freshly caffeinated for the first time in about a month, I stayed up about an hour or so longer than normal to get this out all in one go!
Hopefully I have understood the assignment, and if not? OH WELL! I enjoyed doing this, and it can be apocrypha if it don't fit!
The Little Things
Ashe, just Ashe, no last name; Had come to terms with having their hands turn to glass rather quickly. Really, they had! There was no reason to dwell on it when the end of the apocalypse had come, their hands were made of blue Sea Glass, and there were more pressing things to focus on as the University was suddenly under siege. So they did their best to make bandages and, with great care, put their sewing skills with Fabric towards sewing Flesh to aid the few doctors patching up the defenders. The ease that they were picking up in competence and speed with it had been a bit eyebrow raising, but they had attributed it to stress more than anything.
Somehow, being saved by Spider Women Cavalry was still a novelty after those weeks of blood, even when compared to there being a literal Furry now among the University Survivors.
The flurry of activity afterwards had left little time for self-reflection either, and was it really something to worry about? They kept up their journaling as the days went by, somehow far easier to manage when it wasn't filled with 'I went to class again' week after week, kept on call when the Medics or Doctors needed more hands as the Corps Crawlers were dealt with, and helped patch up people's clothing with what spare cloth was scavenged between all the more pressing essentials. Another pair of hands to help, thats what they were, and that was fine.
So when volunteers were needed to help clear the highways and roads, they didn't think twice before volunteering. No fighting, low risk of life threatening danger, and it was work that needed doing. (No matter what the rich fops tried to mumble about when they thought no one was paying attention)
At first it was just like any other work around the community. Haul equipment here, help push something there, heat up some food on the tiny camp stove for those on break, etc, etc. It was only when they were assigned to the small group digging through each car for loose supplies that Ashe finally realized what had been prodding the back of their mind for all those weeks.
The upholstery for most of the cars was, as always, that faux leather which would peel and flake away after a decade of sitting. Pliable, occasionally stained, and worthless for anything except future insulation for new homes as far as they were concerned. But something pushed them to check it still, to poke and prod and eventually… cut a few large sections out with their knife. Into cargo pockets it went, and they resumed grabbing stray batteries free of acid leak and any surviving cigarettes as normal, almost forgetting about the material until evening.
Sewing kit in hand, and a curious idea in mind, Ashe let themself begin to to carefully work the faux material. Careful scissor cuts led to the overlarge shape of their hand taking form in four pieces, a little more work and the rough appearance of two fingerless gloves came into shape. Black thread sewn into Black Upholstery Leather began to take proper shape to the pieces, memories of working the real thing flitting by as their Sea-Glass hands flickered in the moonlight. It was shocking how easily familiar it felt to work the fake leather, like real calf hide all over again. Halfway through the work, exhaustion finally won out over fixation, but the pull was still there, that this was important. That they were on the cusp of something.
The next few days continued in pattern, working away diligently but absentmindedly on the cars, and then sewing away during their breaks, well into the night in a slow but steady pace as the exhaustion of the first night got lessened each night. And each time those gloves got a little more realized, a little more real in their hands, until one morning came… and they were finished. A new pair of black fingerless gloves, sized perfectly for their hands, and shockingly comfortable. So, they put them on, and got to work as normal; A new accessory and something to help keep warm once the Autumn winds rolled in. Ashe saw no reason to bring attention to the finished product, no one had really brought up their sewing in the time they had been working so far, but someone noticed by lunch and finally brought much needed attention to the creation.
"Hey, nice find there, kid. I didn't think any of these cars would be fancy or rich enough to have real leather driving gloves. Which one did ya get those out of?"
Ashe blinked as they tried to follow the information thrown at them, unsure how to respond delicately to the strange assertion.
"They… aren't real leather though. Its faux leather, same as the upholstery on every car here… except the furry seat one."
"Don't know what to tell ya kid, but thats real. You can tell just by lookin, the patterns all wrong for that mass produced shit they put on every chair in the last 30 years. On top of that," The old man slowly reached a hand out and felt the back of the glove with their fingertips, nodding to himself, "It feels like the real stuff too. Just like the vest my Pa had himself buried in."
Ashe looked down, really looked, and saw that… the man was right. No hint of the faux appearance or feeling remained, awareness of every part of their feel against the glass of their hands lighting up like a neon sign as their eyes turned to saucers. They nearly tripped over their own feet in their rush to stand up, ignoring the cries of the man and several others as they ran back down the road, eyes desperately scanning for the car they had cut up what felt like months ago now. It took a few minutes, progress on the work both faster and slower than expected as was so often the case in these jobs, but they found the car just as several of the others caught up to them; Staring at the cut up seat in shock.
It was faux leather, the whole thing, not one bit of even hinting at real as they reached a hand forward and touched it. And when the others finally got them to turn around and explain what had gotten into them, all they could do was hold up one hand, and point with the other, awestruck as they spoke.
"I made these, from that. It started fake, and it changed. I changed it…" And finally, that prodding insistent thought in the back of their mind, clicked into place.
The grin that slowly spread across their face was matched first by the old man, then by the others as understanding dawned on them all, one quickly running back and calling for anyone with steady hands and a knife. By the time the volunteers headed back to the Dockyard, their work on the path now done, packs laden with faux leather strips and squares, and each with a fine braided bracelet made from strands of fine looking Leather.
It is now time to pass out before my anxiety attempts to stop me posting this!
Hopefully I have understood the assignment, and if not? OH WELL! I enjoyed doing this, and it can be apocrypha if it don't fit!
The Little Things
Ashe, just Ashe, no last name; Had come to terms with having their hands turn to glass rather quickly. Really, they had! There was no reason to dwell on it when the end of the apocalypse had come, their hands were made of blue Sea Glass, and there were more pressing things to focus on as the University was suddenly under siege. So they did their best to make bandages and, with great care, put their sewing skills with Fabric towards sewing Flesh to aid the few doctors patching up the defenders. The ease that they were picking up in competence and speed with it had been a bit eyebrow raising, but they had attributed it to stress more than anything.
Somehow, being saved by Spider Women Cavalry was still a novelty after those weeks of blood, even when compared to there being a literal Furry now among the University Survivors.
The flurry of activity afterwards had left little time for self-reflection either, and was it really something to worry about? They kept up their journaling as the days went by, somehow far easier to manage when it wasn't filled with 'I went to class again' week after week, kept on call when the Medics or Doctors needed more hands as the Corps Crawlers were dealt with, and helped patch up people's clothing with what spare cloth was scavenged between all the more pressing essentials. Another pair of hands to help, thats what they were, and that was fine.
So when volunteers were needed to help clear the highways and roads, they didn't think twice before volunteering. No fighting, low risk of life threatening danger, and it was work that needed doing. (No matter what the rich fops tried to mumble about when they thought no one was paying attention)
At first it was just like any other work around the community. Haul equipment here, help push something there, heat up some food on the tiny camp stove for those on break, etc, etc. It was only when they were assigned to the small group digging through each car for loose supplies that Ashe finally realized what had been prodding the back of their mind for all those weeks.
The upholstery for most of the cars was, as always, that faux leather which would peel and flake away after a decade of sitting. Pliable, occasionally stained, and worthless for anything except future insulation for new homes as far as they were concerned. But something pushed them to check it still, to poke and prod and eventually… cut a few large sections out with their knife. Into cargo pockets it went, and they resumed grabbing stray batteries free of acid leak and any surviving cigarettes as normal, almost forgetting about the material until evening.
Sewing kit in hand, and a curious idea in mind, Ashe let themself begin to to carefully work the faux material. Careful scissor cuts led to the overlarge shape of their hand taking form in four pieces, a little more work and the rough appearance of two fingerless gloves came into shape. Black thread sewn into Black Upholstery Leather began to take proper shape to the pieces, memories of working the real thing flitting by as their Sea-Glass hands flickered in the moonlight. It was shocking how easily familiar it felt to work the fake leather, like real calf hide all over again. Halfway through the work, exhaustion finally won out over fixation, but the pull was still there, that this was important. That they were on the cusp of something.
The next few days continued in pattern, working away diligently but absentmindedly on the cars, and then sewing away during their breaks, well into the night in a slow but steady pace as the exhaustion of the first night got lessened each night. And each time those gloves got a little more realized, a little more real in their hands, until one morning came… and they were finished. A new pair of black fingerless gloves, sized perfectly for their hands, and shockingly comfortable. So, they put them on, and got to work as normal; A new accessory and something to help keep warm once the Autumn winds rolled in. Ashe saw no reason to bring attention to the finished product, no one had really brought up their sewing in the time they had been working so far, but someone noticed by lunch and finally brought much needed attention to the creation.
"Hey, nice find there, kid. I didn't think any of these cars would be fancy or rich enough to have real leather driving gloves. Which one did ya get those out of?"
Ashe blinked as they tried to follow the information thrown at them, unsure how to respond delicately to the strange assertion.
"They… aren't real leather though. Its faux leather, same as the upholstery on every car here… except the furry seat one."
"Don't know what to tell ya kid, but thats real. You can tell just by lookin, the patterns all wrong for that mass produced shit they put on every chair in the last 30 years. On top of that," The old man slowly reached a hand out and felt the back of the glove with their fingertips, nodding to himself, "It feels like the real stuff too. Just like the vest my Pa had himself buried in."
Ashe looked down, really looked, and saw that… the man was right. No hint of the faux appearance or feeling remained, awareness of every part of their feel against the glass of their hands lighting up like a neon sign as their eyes turned to saucers. They nearly tripped over their own feet in their rush to stand up, ignoring the cries of the man and several others as they ran back down the road, eyes desperately scanning for the car they had cut up what felt like months ago now. It took a few minutes, progress on the work both faster and slower than expected as was so often the case in these jobs, but they found the car just as several of the others caught up to them; Staring at the cut up seat in shock.
It was faux leather, the whole thing, not one bit of even hinting at real as they reached a hand forward and touched it. And when the others finally got them to turn around and explain what had gotten into them, all they could do was hold up one hand, and point with the other, awestruck as they spoke.
"I made these, from that. It started fake, and it changed. I changed it…" And finally, that prodding insistent thought in the back of their mind, clicked into place.
The grin that slowly spread across their face was matched first by the old man, then by the others as understanding dawned on them all, one quickly running back and calling for anyone with steady hands and a knife. By the time the volunteers headed back to the Dockyard, their work on the path now done, packs laden with faux leather strips and squares, and each with a fine braided bracelet made from strands of fine looking Leather.
It is now time to pass out before my anxiety attempts to stop me posting this!
[X] Simply approach the council of children and explain the situation outright
The direct approach seems to work well for Orchid.
[X] A teddy bear
In this one, highly specific arena, I am a traditionalist.
The direct approach seems to work well for Orchid.
[X] A teddy bear
In this one, highly specific arena, I am a traditionalist.
10ebbor10
DON'T PANIC
- Location
- Present
SV allows outright explicit sex scenes, provided the quest is tagged mature and all that.Dodging a ToS/rule 6 ban just like how PLoMJ dodged any semblance of reasonable pacing
People tend to be suprised at that.