Hello! As I post short stories (typically no more than 5 posts/chapters each) I will link them...
Words of Madness and Meanderings (Worm Short Stories/Crack Stories Thread)
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Hello! As I post short stories (typically no more than 5 posts/chapters each) I will link them to this page, along with a short description (Expect a lack of canon conformity and Shenaniganry to abound. This is for fun, after all) . As this will be the start of a collection of short snippets, rather than a whole single story, this first post is going to be shorter than the ones that follow. Stories in progress/to come included below
Scale: Thanks to a deal made with Glaistig Uaine, Lung is out of the Birdcage, only now he has to deal with a whole new set of problems. (Lung is extra tiny, Dragon Form included. All inspired by that one part of Worm that says the Birdcage might be shrunken in space)
1.1; 1.2;
2 Scale: a series of associated omakes that are not a part of the Scale continuity, but enhance it.
1.1;
Crash: Thanks to Simurgh Shenaniganrytm, Dragon is free of her restrictions, and decides to celebrate her freedom by doing something she never could do beforehand: program herself to get drunk and drink to her heart's content. This is the story of her waking up from that glorious night of partying with little-to-no memories on the subject and the wrong Protectorate hero in her bed
1.1;
Puppy's Loves: Battery has been ordered to adopt a feisty 14 year-old "villain" with a personality obstructing power. Can she find it in her heart to take care of Rachel Lindt like the girl deserves, and can her, Rachel, and her fun-loving sap of a husband Ethan survive each other?
1.1;
Snadow Stalker: Today is, quite possibly, the worst day in Sophia Hess's life. Ironically, that might be just what both she and the city of Brockton Bay need (Shadow Stalker has a horrible cold, and things go both hilariously wrong and hilariously right for her. Inspired by a typo in another story that was hilarious to me at the time for some reason)
1.1;
Not the Best Role Model: Being a 20-something Protectorate hero is not easy, and being the go-to liaison for the Wards isn't much easier. When a new vigilante far too young to be doing what they're doing ends up in PRT custody, however, Taylor, more commonly known as the intimidating Weaver, quickly becomes a protective figure to this "Shadow Stalker." (13yo Shadow Stalker gets something similar to therapy from 25yo Weaver. Expect parental figure stuff and Taylor worrying about this tiny gremlin who clearly doesn't like her [but actually really does] trying to stay away from her home life.)
1.1;
Scale: Thanks to a deal made with Glaistig Uaine, Lung is out of the Birdcage, only now he has to deal with a whole new set of problems. (Lung is extra tiny, Dragon Form included. All inspired by that one part of Worm that says the Birdcage might be shrunken in space)
1.1; 1.2;
2 Scale: a series of associated omakes that are not a part of the Scale continuity, but enhance it.
1.1;
Crash: Thanks to Simurgh Shenaniganrytm, Dragon is free of her restrictions, and decides to celebrate her freedom by doing something she never could do beforehand: program herself to get drunk and drink to her heart's content. This is the story of her waking up from that glorious night of partying with little-to-no memories on the subject and the wrong Protectorate hero in her bed
1.1;
Puppy's Loves: Battery has been ordered to adopt a feisty 14 year-old "villain" with a personality obstructing power. Can she find it in her heart to take care of Rachel Lindt like the girl deserves, and can her, Rachel, and her fun-loving sap of a husband Ethan survive each other?
1.1;
Snadow Stalker: Today is, quite possibly, the worst day in Sophia Hess's life. Ironically, that might be just what both she and the city of Brockton Bay need (Shadow Stalker has a horrible cold, and things go both hilariously wrong and hilariously right for her. Inspired by a typo in another story that was hilarious to me at the time for some reason)
1.1;
Not the Best Role Model: Being a 20-something Protectorate hero is not easy, and being the go-to liaison for the Wards isn't much easier. When a new vigilante far too young to be doing what they're doing ends up in PRT custody, however, Taylor, more commonly known as the intimidating Weaver, quickly becomes a protective figure to this "Shadow Stalker." (13yo Shadow Stalker gets something similar to therapy from 25yo Weaver. Expect parental figure stuff and Taylor worrying about this tiny gremlin who clearly doesn't like her [but actually really does] trying to stay away from her home life.)
1.1;
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Scale 1.1
- Location
- United States
Scale 1.1
Lung took a deep breath of the cool, sweet air of the Rocky Mountains. He couldn't tell if it really was sweet or if it was his brain telling him so, but it didn't matter. It beat the Birdcage by far. A smile broke his lips. He was out! The deal with Glaistig Uaine had been worth it, free, he was alive, he was-
-Feeling very strange. He hadn't noticed the feeling while locked up but now that he was out… everything felt different. The wind seemed sluggish, the air somehow drier than it'd been when he'd gone in, even… Something was wrong. He shrugged, turning his mind to Brockton Bay, his city. First thing he'd do was kill that Skitter child for fucking up his life. Hopefully, the 88 would stay fucked up from what he'd heard about it, which would leave the small-timers, like the Undersiders or Coil, and the jokes, like the Merchants. He'd dealt with worse odds when he built the ABB. This wouldn't be too hard. Now to go from Canada to Brockton Bay before Dragon decided to show up and lock him back down. He looked at the stone face he was standing on, then out to the other peaks. Were they… fuzzier then they should be? What was going-
A beetle landed in front of him. The only reason he noticed that was because it was the size of a dog. Lung approached it, feeling the tension in the back of his head that indicated his powers were on standby. The beetle looked at him curiously, not really making any effort to back away. Why was it so big? Had some part of him getting out of the miniature Birdcage affected it, or…
… Oh…
It clicked. Lung let out a very panicked, frustrated, and very small scream.
"GLAISTIG!!" he screamed, turning his eyes to the massive mountain beneath his feet. He would find a way in, he'd find her and, powers or no, he would rip her heart out.
But she was in the Birdcage. Lung was not going back there for any reason. With a resigned sigh, he looked at the open sky, hoping for another focus to his rage. He was in British Columbia, closer to the west coast of Canada than Brockton Bay. He had never pushed how fast he could fly, but he'd find out how long it'd take, at this size. He just needed someone to fight on the way.
Skitter. The gangly insect-loving freak had gotten him locked up and cut out his eyes. As he felt his body swell and his skin gain the cold, enveloping feel of steel scales, he he gave a cruel, eager snarl. This would do.
Taylor, no, Skitter, was starting to settle in as warlord of the Docks. It was… Interesting, having so much power at her fingertips, all of it illicit, and hate it so much. It was there because Coil held her by the throat, and because he had a child locked up and…
She had to focus. Control the Docks, make yourself valuable, and maybe Coil will keep his deal. And if he didn't… well, they'd burn that bridge when they got there. For now, she had to turn things around here, and keep a tight leash on criminals.
…other. Other criminals. How had she ever gotten wrapped up in this? It was a question she'd been asking for a while now, ever since Battery had poked her head into her food distribution mission. She just… She shouldn't be doing this. But she had to. She had to.
Something tickled the edge of her net of bugs, something that was… What? It was… a flying snake? Felt wrong to the bugs' touch. Metal? Some kind of drone sent by a Tinker for revenge? Her spine went cold at the two Tinkers she could think of: Armsmaster, disgraced and stripped of rank by her, and Drago-
"-UOOOO!" a high-pitched voice screamed. "SKI'RRRR"
…What the fuck? What the fuck? What the… It was Lung, fully transformed, the size of a cat. He seemed to be flying himself like a bullet at her building.
"What the fuck?" his head turned, tracking her voice and trying to claw his way through. He was panting, carving small divots into the concrete wall before he seemed to lose strength. Drifting back to the ground after a few minutes, almost to the door, he began to shrink, somehow. When she finally made it to the door, he was fully human, barely bigger than some of her larger insects, and altogether… kind of sad. On his knees, barely bigger than her hand. He glared up at her with hateful eyes, before they rolled back into his head and he collapsed.
"...okay, what the actual fuck is going on?" She looked around on instinct, already knowing nobody would be there, but just making sure because what. Carefully, she had some of her newly-cleaned terrarium bugs scoop up Lung and carry him...somewhere. Somewhere with answers.
Lung took a deep breath of the cool, sweet air of the Rocky Mountains. He couldn't tell if it really was sweet or if it was his brain telling him so, but it didn't matter. It beat the Birdcage by far. A smile broke his lips. He was out! The deal with Glaistig Uaine had been worth it, free, he was alive, he was-
-Feeling very strange. He hadn't noticed the feeling while locked up but now that he was out… everything felt different. The wind seemed sluggish, the air somehow drier than it'd been when he'd gone in, even… Something was wrong. He shrugged, turning his mind to Brockton Bay, his city. First thing he'd do was kill that Skitter child for fucking up his life. Hopefully, the 88 would stay fucked up from what he'd heard about it, which would leave the small-timers, like the Undersiders or Coil, and the jokes, like the Merchants. He'd dealt with worse odds when he built the ABB. This wouldn't be too hard. Now to go from Canada to Brockton Bay before Dragon decided to show up and lock him back down. He looked at the stone face he was standing on, then out to the other peaks. Were they… fuzzier then they should be? What was going-
A beetle landed in front of him. The only reason he noticed that was because it was the size of a dog. Lung approached it, feeling the tension in the back of his head that indicated his powers were on standby. The beetle looked at him curiously, not really making any effort to back away. Why was it so big? Had some part of him getting out of the miniature Birdcage affected it, or…
… Oh…
It clicked. Lung let out a very panicked, frustrated, and very small scream.
"GLAISTIG!!" he screamed, turning his eyes to the massive mountain beneath his feet. He would find a way in, he'd find her and, powers or no, he would rip her heart out.
But she was in the Birdcage. Lung was not going back there for any reason. With a resigned sigh, he looked at the open sky, hoping for another focus to his rage. He was in British Columbia, closer to the west coast of Canada than Brockton Bay. He had never pushed how fast he could fly, but he'd find out how long it'd take, at this size. He just needed someone to fight on the way.
Skitter. The gangly insect-loving freak had gotten him locked up and cut out his eyes. As he felt his body swell and his skin gain the cold, enveloping feel of steel scales, he he gave a cruel, eager snarl. This would do.
Taylor, no, Skitter, was starting to settle in as warlord of the Docks. It was… Interesting, having so much power at her fingertips, all of it illicit, and hate it so much. It was there because Coil held her by the throat, and because he had a child locked up and…
She had to focus. Control the Docks, make yourself valuable, and maybe Coil will keep his deal. And if he didn't… well, they'd burn that bridge when they got there. For now, she had to turn things around here, and keep a tight leash on criminals.
…other. Other criminals. How had she ever gotten wrapped up in this? It was a question she'd been asking for a while now, ever since Battery had poked her head into her food distribution mission. She just… She shouldn't be doing this. But she had to. She had to.
Something tickled the edge of her net of bugs, something that was… What? It was… a flying snake? Felt wrong to the bugs' touch. Metal? Some kind of drone sent by a Tinker for revenge? Her spine went cold at the two Tinkers she could think of: Armsmaster, disgraced and stripped of rank by her, and Drago-
"-UOOOO!" a high-pitched voice screamed. "SKI'RRRR"
…What the fuck? What the fuck? What the… It was Lung, fully transformed, the size of a cat. He seemed to be flying himself like a bullet at her building.
"What the fuck?" his head turned, tracking her voice and trying to claw his way through. He was panting, carving small divots into the concrete wall before he seemed to lose strength. Drifting back to the ground after a few minutes, almost to the door, he began to shrink, somehow. When she finally made it to the door, he was fully human, barely bigger than some of her larger insects, and altogether… kind of sad. On his knees, barely bigger than her hand. He glared up at her with hateful eyes, before they rolled back into his head and he collapsed.
"...okay, what the actual fuck is going on?" She looked around on instinct, already knowing nobody would be there, but just making sure because what. Carefully, she had some of her newly-cleaned terrarium bugs scoop up Lung and carry him...somewhere. Somewhere with answers.
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Scale 1.2
- Location
- United States
Scale 1.2
Lisa was astounded. Astounded, really. Moreso on average than she liked to admit, but this time, she had very good reason to be, so she let her "genius Thinker" mask slip. "What the fuck, Skitter?"
"That's what I said!" The mandibled visage of her friend's mask drastically misrepresented her expression, as if she isn't hard enough to read already, but the tone was clear. Not that frustration, confusion, and a whole slew of other emotions weren't appropriate for when the person who'd sworn to kill you was back, two inches tall, locked in a terrarium.
"I can hear you," the somehow squeaky-voiced Lung answered, and Lisa let her power reassess what was going on with him.
Reduced to 1/35th original size, breathing and muscular patterns are normal, in spite of either drastic molecular or biological alterations needed to survive at such a size. Normal sized, in spite of appearance, his personal space is simply occupying a much smaller amount of space. Affected by spacial distortion cape/Tinkertech. Birdcage contains an excess of volatile Shakers and high-rated teleporters, incapable of containing them without esoteric restrictions, Birdcage would need more space than it has available to effectively contain these cape. Birdcage is miniaturized.
"Huh," she muttered, "So that's how she did it."
"She?" Skitter looked at Lisa. "She who?"
"Glaistig Uaine," Lung explained, the cold steel in his now-squeaky voice not nearly as intimidating as he seemed to think. "I made her something of a deal. She had my permission to take Bakuda's 'fairy', and she would get me out. I knew I shouldn't have trusted that psychotic pixie."
Skitter looked at me and I gave her a so-so gesture.
"What?" Lung huffed.
"Well, it wasn't Glaistig Uaine. By 'she', I meant Dragon. At your size, I'm guessing the entire Birdcage isn't much bigger than a single apartment building, at most. It's how she'll keep all the wider-range powers from effecting things outside," Lisa turned back to Skitter. "What are you planning to do with him?"
"I… haven't worked that out. He broke out of the Birdcage. Worse, he got Glaistig Uaine to break him out of the Birdcage." A tiny change in the way she was facing told her she was scanning around them with her bugs. "Isn't harboring him going to get us in a lot of trouble?"
Lisa gave her a flat stare. "Your debut was robbing a bank and abetting in a kidnapping."
"...Right."
"I have a suggestion." Lung pulled at their attention. "I have no doubt that my gang has since dissolved?"
Skitter gave a hesitant nod. "I've been taking over a good chunk of what was left, redirecting it into-"
"And no single entity has replaced me?"
Lisa eyed the now miniature Breaker. Aggressive impulse minimized, contemplating alternative use of powers, no actual desire to be in charge, wants to focus effort into personal indulgences and combat, willing to exist as a complete figurehead so long as needs are met.
...huh.
She made a small gesture with her head, getting Skitter's attention and focusing it on her hand, which she hid from Lung behind her back. Before too long, a series of flies landed on her fingers. She signed carefully, spelling out the word without squishing any of the bugs.
C-O-I-L
"Coil," Skitter said. T-E-L-L-H-I-M "He owns the Travelers and the Undersiders, and is using us to hold onto as much territory as possible. The Docks, my territory, is the most stable, but doesn't have the same level of productivity as the others."
"Hmm." Lung contemplated something for a minute in his terrarium. "You do not respect him."
The insects on Lisa's hand buzzed before settling back down. Focusing tells into her bugs? Closer mind-power association than normal, evidence supported by post-Bakuda incident. "I do not. At all."
"Then he is a fool." Lung's shoulders straightened. "We are, both of us, in more precarious positions than we'd like to be. I, with my… presence in this city so reduced, and you, serving a master who fails to earn your respect, and uses you for his own conquest. Allow me to make an offer: I will kill Coil, and you will work for me."
Skitter...twitched. "What?"
"You will control Brockton Bay as you see fit, so long as I am satisfied, and you will do so with what wisdom and resources I can impart. I know it is not the offer you desire, but it is an option to consider."
Skitter was going to refuse right-out, Lisa knew that much, so it was time to play her card. "Skits, can we talk for a second?" She stopped mid-movement and turned to her friend, before shrugging and following her out of the room.
"What is it, Tats?"
Lisa began weaving her own pitch. "I don't think you're giving Lung enough credit."
"I'm giving him exactly enough credit." Skitter snapped. "The ABB were one of the worst gangs in the history of the Bay."
"And they didn't have you. Look, Lung is a lot of things, but the biggest thing he isn't is a hands-on leader. It's how the ABB stuck together so long and how it got so bad. Even Skidmark isn't going to give his lieutenants as much freedom as Lung gave his, and that's nowhere near what he's giving you right now. You take him up on that offer, and you have fucking Lung as your guardian angel, and he's willing to hand us Coil's head on a plate. Tell me that doesn't appeal to you."
Skitter paused, thinking it over. Deep-seated fear of Lung, paranoia suggesting this is some kind of ploy to kill her, unwilling to acknowledge said fear and attributing to a sense of disgust and distrust. Would need to have someone use what little of her trust they have to agree to this.
And it would be an insane potential advantage to bringing down Coil.
...I fucking hate you, powers. "It's going to work, Skitter. You trust me, right?"
She saw the decision finalize in her mind. "Alright. Because I trust you." fucking. Hate. my power. "And because I could probably fill him with venom before he could do anything."
On that pleasant reminder of her friend's power, they walked back to the room Lung was in. "I...the Undersiders accept your offer."
Lisa was astounded. Astounded, really. Moreso on average than she liked to admit, but this time, she had very good reason to be, so she let her "genius Thinker" mask slip. "What the fuck, Skitter?"
"That's what I said!" The mandibled visage of her friend's mask drastically misrepresented her expression, as if she isn't hard enough to read already, but the tone was clear. Not that frustration, confusion, and a whole slew of other emotions weren't appropriate for when the person who'd sworn to kill you was back, two inches tall, locked in a terrarium.
"I can hear you," the somehow squeaky-voiced Lung answered, and Lisa let her power reassess what was going on with him.
Reduced to 1/35th original size, breathing and muscular patterns are normal, in spite of either drastic molecular or biological alterations needed to survive at such a size. Normal sized, in spite of appearance, his personal space is simply occupying a much smaller amount of space. Affected by spacial distortion cape/Tinkertech. Birdcage contains an excess of volatile Shakers and high-rated teleporters, incapable of containing them without esoteric restrictions, Birdcage would need more space than it has available to effectively contain these cape. Birdcage is miniaturized.
"Huh," she muttered, "So that's how she did it."
"She?" Skitter looked at Lisa. "She who?"
"Glaistig Uaine," Lung explained, the cold steel in his now-squeaky voice not nearly as intimidating as he seemed to think. "I made her something of a deal. She had my permission to take Bakuda's 'fairy', and she would get me out. I knew I shouldn't have trusted that psychotic pixie."
Skitter looked at me and I gave her a so-so gesture.
"What?" Lung huffed.
"Well, it wasn't Glaistig Uaine. By 'she', I meant Dragon. At your size, I'm guessing the entire Birdcage isn't much bigger than a single apartment building, at most. It's how she'll keep all the wider-range powers from effecting things outside," Lisa turned back to Skitter. "What are you planning to do with him?"
"I… haven't worked that out. He broke out of the Birdcage. Worse, he got Glaistig Uaine to break him out of the Birdcage." A tiny change in the way she was facing told her she was scanning around them with her bugs. "Isn't harboring him going to get us in a lot of trouble?"
Lisa gave her a flat stare. "Your debut was robbing a bank and abetting in a kidnapping."
"...Right."
"I have a suggestion." Lung pulled at their attention. "I have no doubt that my gang has since dissolved?"
Skitter gave a hesitant nod. "I've been taking over a good chunk of what was left, redirecting it into-"
"And no single entity has replaced me?"
Lisa eyed the now miniature Breaker. Aggressive impulse minimized, contemplating alternative use of powers, no actual desire to be in charge, wants to focus effort into personal indulgences and combat, willing to exist as a complete figurehead so long as needs are met.
...huh.
She made a small gesture with her head, getting Skitter's attention and focusing it on her hand, which she hid from Lung behind her back. Before too long, a series of flies landed on her fingers. She signed carefully, spelling out the word without squishing any of the bugs.
C-O-I-L
"Coil," Skitter said. T-E-L-L-H-I-M "He owns the Travelers and the Undersiders, and is using us to hold onto as much territory as possible. The Docks, my territory, is the most stable, but doesn't have the same level of productivity as the others."
"Hmm." Lung contemplated something for a minute in his terrarium. "You do not respect him."
The insects on Lisa's hand buzzed before settling back down. Focusing tells into her bugs? Closer mind-power association than normal, evidence supported by post-Bakuda incident. "I do not. At all."
"Then he is a fool." Lung's shoulders straightened. "We are, both of us, in more precarious positions than we'd like to be. I, with my… presence in this city so reduced, and you, serving a master who fails to earn your respect, and uses you for his own conquest. Allow me to make an offer: I will kill Coil, and you will work for me."
Skitter...twitched. "What?"
"You will control Brockton Bay as you see fit, so long as I am satisfied, and you will do so with what wisdom and resources I can impart. I know it is not the offer you desire, but it is an option to consider."
Skitter was going to refuse right-out, Lisa knew that much, so it was time to play her card. "Skits, can we talk for a second?" She stopped mid-movement and turned to her friend, before shrugging and following her out of the room.
"What is it, Tats?"
Lisa began weaving her own pitch. "I don't think you're giving Lung enough credit."
"I'm giving him exactly enough credit." Skitter snapped. "The ABB were one of the worst gangs in the history of the Bay."
"And they didn't have you. Look, Lung is a lot of things, but the biggest thing he isn't is a hands-on leader. It's how the ABB stuck together so long and how it got so bad. Even Skidmark isn't going to give his lieutenants as much freedom as Lung gave his, and that's nowhere near what he's giving you right now. You take him up on that offer, and you have fucking Lung as your guardian angel, and he's willing to hand us Coil's head on a plate. Tell me that doesn't appeal to you."
Skitter paused, thinking it over. Deep-seated fear of Lung, paranoia suggesting this is some kind of ploy to kill her, unwilling to acknowledge said fear and attributing to a sense of disgust and distrust. Would need to have someone use what little of her trust they have to agree to this.
And it would be an insane potential advantage to bringing down Coil.
...I fucking hate you, powers. "It's going to work, Skitter. You trust me, right?"
She saw the decision finalize in her mind. "Alright. Because I trust you." fucking. Hate. my power. "And because I could probably fill him with venom before he could do anything."
On that pleasant reminder of her friend's power, they walked back to the room Lung was in. "I...the Undersiders accept your offer."
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- Location
- United States
He's still a flamethrowing metal dragon. Even a flamethrowing metal dragon the size of a cat is pretty effective. Plus, knowledgeable, and still has some connections in a couple places.
globalwarmth
ruining the weather.
- Location
- Polar ice caps
technically if he can ramp enough first he could be his normal threat level
Crash 1.1
- Location
- United States
Colin Wallis, once known as Armsmaster, now Defiant, operated with the greatest of care. In his hands were the controls for a set of microtools, on the other end of them, the circuitry that held the code for someone very dear to him. Dragon was voluntarily offline for this part, a comparably blunt method of directly altering her code. A large part of him hoped this was a sign of trust, that she believed he could do this. Hoped.
He'd come to the most delicate part of the procedure, where even with the sensitivity of his microtools it was like performing an appendectomy with an antique bonesaw. He moved carefully, not even daring to breathe for a f-
"SIMURGH MOVEMENT!" Colin jerked to the side at the blaring alarm, stopping suddenly as he felt his heart drop. No. Nonononono- the fucking idiot! He'd left the Endbringer alarms up! Of course this would happen! How could he be so-
Dragon lurched up, eyes snapping open, the microscopic equipment slamming into parts of her framework. He… What? "Dragon? You're-"
"What was that?" Dragon's gaze shot to him, a look somewhere between concern and panic. "That alert. The Simurgh is moving?"
"I…" he stepped back, pulling up the alert. The Simurgh had moved a total of… "six inches. She moved six inches, stopped, and moved back."
"Oh." she paused, staring at the window between them. "I'm awake. The Simurgh moved and I'm awake now.
"Yes." the concern hadn't left her face, Colin noted. "I'm running a diagnostic now, and we'll get a Seer in here to retroactively minimize her effects. For now… We'll just wait."
"Right." Her expression returned neutral, giving a quick glance around the room. No doubt remembering every detail, down to the signal-proofing inlaid in every nanometer. "Did… Did it work?"
"We'll know when the diagnostic is done. I think," he stopped. He was worried--to this day he didn't really know what to say, even to her--and her seeming discrepancies worried him more. "Can't you do it yourself?"
She paused, staring at the wall opposite from his window. "I'm… I'm scared. What if she put something there? Or set off something he put there, or-?" she didn't have any words for the rest. "You run the diagnostic, then we'll have whoever's available check me up, then… we'll see, I guess."
A video chat message came up, showing a vaguely familiar name. He tapped it, accepting the call. "Arbiter. You received the message?"
"Chevy called, figured I'd be able to do this off-site, since you're closest to her, and, well, don't have a family to speak of."
"Thanks."
She winced. "Sorr-"
"No, really," he said. "I would probably go crazy waiting for someone to get here. What do you need?"
"... Okay." Arbiter settled back into her usually calm demeanor. "I just need you to keep talking while I check the riot sense. So, what was happening?"
Cutting off the mic to Dragon, Colin began the story, relating his concerns for almost a minute until Arbiter put a hand up. "Alright," she said, "seems you're in the clear, if anyone in your inner circle is going to do anything, I can't see it, which is a first. There's a little yellow in your overall social network, but Dragon is in the green zone. Might need a second opinion long-term, like Appraiser, but there doesn't seem to be anything wrong."
He sighed, feeling a wave of relief hit him. "Thank you, Arbiter. I owe you. Really."
She yawned. What time was it for her, anyways? She didn't seem to have touched her hair yet, and the room was dark. "No problem, Defiant. Dragon's always had all our backs. Figured I owed her at least a little." With that, she ended the call.
Defiant switched the mic back on, moving back into sight of a nervous friend. She seems more… Expressive. I hope I'm just imagining that. "Arbiter says there's nothing she can find. So, we should be good for now. Do you still want to wait for the diagnostic? It'll take another hour."
Dragon thought it over carefully. "I… I think Arbiter is as good as we can get for now. I'm going to diagnose myself." there was a long pause as she stood there, completely still, head cocked to the side. A small smile crossed her face.
"Dragon?" Colin felt a creeping dread in his chest.
"I'm reading it over. I think… I think I'm free." she turned to him, her smile getting bigger. "I'm free! I can't do everything, I think, but… Holy shit I can do a lot now."
"I… really?"
She practically bounded to the glass between them. When had he ever seen her so excited? "yeah! Self-program, control multiple objects, break the rules, God it would be so nice to get drunk, and I can do that now!" she paused, her smile changing ever so slightly. "how about, once that diagnostic of yours is done, you buy a lady a drink?"
That immediately set off almost every alarm in his head. "uh, what?"
"Too forward?" she winced. "Sorry. I'm just… God, I had all kinds of notes on what it feels like to be high, or any kind of drug, and this feels better than any of that."
He eyed her. "... Right. I hope you don't mind if I finish the diagnostic first."
Her posture drooped ever so slightly. "Right. Don't want to risk anything."
they waited like that for a few more minutes, both trying to remain calm. Then Collin's computer chimed. They both turned to look at it, then each other. "It's going to be alright," Collin did his best to reassure her. He scrolled through the program…
Frowned…
Scrolled through it again…
"What is it?" The tint of worry, raw fear in her voice, shocked him out of his confusion.
"No! Don't worry, nothing's wrong, it's just… nothing. It's literally nothing. No major lines of code, no changes in methodology, just some… syntax… Oh. Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me." More fear crept onto her face, but this time he spoke before she had time to voice it. "Richter. Andrew Richter, he didn't just write your restrictions into your code, he reinforced them with some kind of… Overcode? The way the language is shaped, the specific lines used in specific orders… fuck, it would've take me years to get any of this undone. I still don't know what happened, but… well, with this and approval from Arbiter, a Thinker whose obscured the Simurgh before, we could let you out."
She stared at the door. "I," she swallowed. "Let's hear from another Thinker first. I want to think it's alright, but-"
"Right." He was about to message Chevalier before one came in on it's own.
Dragon has a 1.
-Eleventh Hour
"And there's Eleventh Hour. You're good."
She sighed slowly. "Okay. Good. I guess that means we should… open the door."
"Right."
"And… turn off the Faraday cage."
"Right."
Neither of them moved. Colin's eyes flicked from the screen to her, and her eyes flicked from the door to him.
"I… fuck, I'm scared. I don't… It's just…" She ran a hand through her hair. "Something's going to go wrong. It has to go wrong."
"I think that if it's going to go wrong, waiting here for something to happen won't make it better. We have two Thinkers giving us an okay, and if the Simurgh can get past them, it's not like we aren't fucked anyways."
She winced. "That's… not the way I want to look at this, but… Well, we can't stay like this forever. Shut off the cage." She closed her eyes, wincing as she felt the quiet hum of the post-Gold Morning internet ping her system. It was an unusual setup, connecting to an on-land sort of… hub system in the chaos that was the City, but it was starting to feel as natural as the internet on Aleph had been. There was a millisecond where nothing happened.
Then another…
...and a full second and she was still herself. She looked up to Colin, who was practically pressed against the glass, then smiled. The door slammed open the second she hit it, and she tackled her armored boyfriend with a heavy-weighted hug, knocking them both to the ground. "Hey," she said, grinning as he looked at her with a bewildered smile.
"Hey," he said back. "It worked, then?"
"Yup," she added a little 'pop' at the end of the word before rolling off him, staring up at the ceiling. "I've got access to every aspect of my system, the only restriction is that I, and anyone I create, can only use one body at a time. For the most part, though, I'm free."
"Wait, crea-"
Colin's question was cut off by Dragon's continued chatter. "God, do you know what this means? I can do whatever I want, be whoever I want, and the only thing that stops me is me."
"That's…" he stared at her while she lay next to him. A part of him would always be fascinated about how naturally she expressed herself, so fluidly where he always seemed to barrel ahead bluntly. A part of him had been afraid that, when she wouldn't need him anymore, she wouldn't bother with him. A part of him still felt that way.
He cut off that chain of thought. "that's amazing. What...what do you want to do?"
She turned to him and smiled. "well, like I said, maybe you wouldn't mind buying a lady a drink?"
It was—perhaps unsurprisingly—easy to find a bar so soon after the apocalypse. It was more of a tent as the still-developing New York Gimel had converted almost all buildings into refugee housing, but it was a nice tent, kept organized and well-lit by a small staff and a bartender who smiled the second Colin and Dragon approached.
"You two together?" she asked.
Dragon nodded. "this is actually my, uh, first time."
She nodded back. "Alright, promise to take it easy?"
"Don't worry, I won't go overboard. I was thinking about starting with something fruity, really."
"I've got an idea for that." the bartender looked at Colin. "and you? What's your poison?"
Colin shrugged. "haven't really had anything like this since… something light maybe, preferably a beer?"
She nodded again. "Got just the thing. Local brew, first one founded in NYG, actually. And for you, I can mix a strawberry daiquiri."
They both agreed and showed their IDs, which Colin began to comment on once out of earshot. "So, this is why you couldn't drink before?"
Dragon nodded, handing him her own ID. "This and a few other reasons. I can't break laws, so having any kind of legal documentation would have to be given to me by whatever government I'm a citizen of. Considering I was made in 2003 and special dispensation for public drinking wasn't a priority for something that can't get drunk," she shrugged as the bartender handed them their drinks."too many things were stopping me."
Colin took a sip, then turned to Dragon. "So, 'Tara S. Quincy', how does it taste?"
She shrugged. "tastes like a strawberry daiquiri. I'll add it to the program of tastes I like." she swirled her drink thoughtfully for a second, then took a second sip. "And now it can get me drunk."
He raised his own glass in a toast. "Well, to Tara, a girl who can legally drink, watch a movie with more than one fuck, and drive-" he paused. "Although, not driving tonight. We should probably get someone to drive us, actually."
She tapped his glass with her own. "Hell, at that rate, why not make a party out of it? Night on the town to celebrate me getting free."
"Sure." he took another drink, finishing off his first glass. "the guest list might be a bit short, though. I don't have a lot of friends."
Her grin shifted ever so slightly as she finished off her own drink, the bartender giving both of them a second. Internally, she pulled up a list of contacts and sent a few messages. "More than you think." she lifted her glass. "to freedom?"
He smiled and shared her toast. "To having everything we need, and to a much-needed party." with that,
they both downed their second glass.
Dragon smiled, fondly running a finger over the naked frame lying next to her. So fragile and soft, she thought, in her still-drunk state. Looks so good with a smile, though. Definitely should smile more when we're both awake. She gently nuzzled the shoulder in front of her, brushing away a small tuft of black hair away. I'll make her happy, though.
'Good Time program ceasing operation', a voice in her head informed her. 'beginning Hangover.exe'
Her eyes widened, and she jerked back from her partner, Colin's arms instinctually wrapping around her torso and giving a quiet groan behind her. In front of her, Hannah blinked awake slowly. Then her eyes met Dragon. A very very naked Dragon.
Dragon screamed. Hannah--the heroic Miss Militia--also screamed. This woke Colin, who started screaming as well. All three of them winced at the wave of headaches that hit them.
"What the fuck!?" Whispered Colin.
"I'm so sorry!" Dragon said to both.
All either could hear from Hannah was her repeatedly mumbling "Not again!"
He'd come to the most delicate part of the procedure, where even with the sensitivity of his microtools it was like performing an appendectomy with an antique bonesaw. He moved carefully, not even daring to breathe for a f-
"SIMURGH MOVEMENT!" Colin jerked to the side at the blaring alarm, stopping suddenly as he felt his heart drop. No. Nonononono- the fucking idiot! He'd left the Endbringer alarms up! Of course this would happen! How could he be so-
Dragon lurched up, eyes snapping open, the microscopic equipment slamming into parts of her framework. He… What? "Dragon? You're-"
"What was that?" Dragon's gaze shot to him, a look somewhere between concern and panic. "That alert. The Simurgh is moving?"
"I…" he stepped back, pulling up the alert. The Simurgh had moved a total of… "six inches. She moved six inches, stopped, and moved back."
"Oh." she paused, staring at the window between them. "I'm awake. The Simurgh moved and I'm awake now.
"Yes." the concern hadn't left her face, Colin noted. "I'm running a diagnostic now, and we'll get a Seer in here to retroactively minimize her effects. For now… We'll just wait."
"Right." Her expression returned neutral, giving a quick glance around the room. No doubt remembering every detail, down to the signal-proofing inlaid in every nanometer. "Did… Did it work?"
"We'll know when the diagnostic is done. I think," he stopped. He was worried--to this day he didn't really know what to say, even to her--and her seeming discrepancies worried him more. "Can't you do it yourself?"
She paused, staring at the wall opposite from his window. "I'm… I'm scared. What if she put something there? Or set off something he put there, or-?" she didn't have any words for the rest. "You run the diagnostic, then we'll have whoever's available check me up, then… we'll see, I guess."
A video chat message came up, showing a vaguely familiar name. He tapped it, accepting the call. "Arbiter. You received the message?"
"Chevy called, figured I'd be able to do this off-site, since you're closest to her, and, well, don't have a family to speak of."
"Thanks."
She winced. "Sorr-"
"No, really," he said. "I would probably go crazy waiting for someone to get here. What do you need?"
"... Okay." Arbiter settled back into her usually calm demeanor. "I just need you to keep talking while I check the riot sense. So, what was happening?"
Cutting off the mic to Dragon, Colin began the story, relating his concerns for almost a minute until Arbiter put a hand up. "Alright," she said, "seems you're in the clear, if anyone in your inner circle is going to do anything, I can't see it, which is a first. There's a little yellow in your overall social network, but Dragon is in the green zone. Might need a second opinion long-term, like Appraiser, but there doesn't seem to be anything wrong."
He sighed, feeling a wave of relief hit him. "Thank you, Arbiter. I owe you. Really."
She yawned. What time was it for her, anyways? She didn't seem to have touched her hair yet, and the room was dark. "No problem, Defiant. Dragon's always had all our backs. Figured I owed her at least a little." With that, she ended the call.
Defiant switched the mic back on, moving back into sight of a nervous friend. She seems more… Expressive. I hope I'm just imagining that. "Arbiter says there's nothing she can find. So, we should be good for now. Do you still want to wait for the diagnostic? It'll take another hour."
Dragon thought it over carefully. "I… I think Arbiter is as good as we can get for now. I'm going to diagnose myself." there was a long pause as she stood there, completely still, head cocked to the side. A small smile crossed her face.
"Dragon?" Colin felt a creeping dread in his chest.
"I'm reading it over. I think… I think I'm free." she turned to him, her smile getting bigger. "I'm free! I can't do everything, I think, but… Holy shit I can do a lot now."
"I… really?"
She practically bounded to the glass between them. When had he ever seen her so excited? "yeah! Self-program, control multiple objects, break the rules, God it would be so nice to get drunk, and I can do that now!" she paused, her smile changing ever so slightly. "how about, once that diagnostic of yours is done, you buy a lady a drink?"
That immediately set off almost every alarm in his head. "uh, what?"
"Too forward?" she winced. "Sorry. I'm just… God, I had all kinds of notes on what it feels like to be high, or any kind of drug, and this feels better than any of that."
He eyed her. "... Right. I hope you don't mind if I finish the diagnostic first."
Her posture drooped ever so slightly. "Right. Don't want to risk anything."
they waited like that for a few more minutes, both trying to remain calm. Then Collin's computer chimed. They both turned to look at it, then each other. "It's going to be alright," Collin did his best to reassure her. He scrolled through the program…
Frowned…
Scrolled through it again…
"What is it?" The tint of worry, raw fear in her voice, shocked him out of his confusion.
"No! Don't worry, nothing's wrong, it's just… nothing. It's literally nothing. No major lines of code, no changes in methodology, just some… syntax… Oh. Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me." More fear crept onto her face, but this time he spoke before she had time to voice it. "Richter. Andrew Richter, he didn't just write your restrictions into your code, he reinforced them with some kind of… Overcode? The way the language is shaped, the specific lines used in specific orders… fuck, it would've take me years to get any of this undone. I still don't know what happened, but… well, with this and approval from Arbiter, a Thinker whose obscured the Simurgh before, we could let you out."
She stared at the door. "I," she swallowed. "Let's hear from another Thinker first. I want to think it's alright, but-"
"Right." He was about to message Chevalier before one came in on it's own.
Dragon has a 1.
-Eleventh Hour
"And there's Eleventh Hour. You're good."
She sighed slowly. "Okay. Good. I guess that means we should… open the door."
"Right."
"And… turn off the Faraday cage."
"Right."
Neither of them moved. Colin's eyes flicked from the screen to her, and her eyes flicked from the door to him.
"I… fuck, I'm scared. I don't… It's just…" She ran a hand through her hair. "Something's going to go wrong. It has to go wrong."
"I think that if it's going to go wrong, waiting here for something to happen won't make it better. We have two Thinkers giving us an okay, and if the Simurgh can get past them, it's not like we aren't fucked anyways."
She winced. "That's… not the way I want to look at this, but… Well, we can't stay like this forever. Shut off the cage." She closed her eyes, wincing as she felt the quiet hum of the post-Gold Morning internet ping her system. It was an unusual setup, connecting to an on-land sort of… hub system in the chaos that was the City, but it was starting to feel as natural as the internet on Aleph had been. There was a millisecond where nothing happened.
Then another…
...and a full second and she was still herself. She looked up to Colin, who was practically pressed against the glass, then smiled. The door slammed open the second she hit it, and she tackled her armored boyfriend with a heavy-weighted hug, knocking them both to the ground. "Hey," she said, grinning as he looked at her with a bewildered smile.
"Hey," he said back. "It worked, then?"
"Yup," she added a little 'pop' at the end of the word before rolling off him, staring up at the ceiling. "I've got access to every aspect of my system, the only restriction is that I, and anyone I create, can only use one body at a time. For the most part, though, I'm free."
"Wait, crea-"
Colin's question was cut off by Dragon's continued chatter. "God, do you know what this means? I can do whatever I want, be whoever I want, and the only thing that stops me is me."
"That's…" he stared at her while she lay next to him. A part of him would always be fascinated about how naturally she expressed herself, so fluidly where he always seemed to barrel ahead bluntly. A part of him had been afraid that, when she wouldn't need him anymore, she wouldn't bother with him. A part of him still felt that way.
He cut off that chain of thought. "that's amazing. What...what do you want to do?"
She turned to him and smiled. "well, like I said, maybe you wouldn't mind buying a lady a drink?"
It was—perhaps unsurprisingly—easy to find a bar so soon after the apocalypse. It was more of a tent as the still-developing New York Gimel had converted almost all buildings into refugee housing, but it was a nice tent, kept organized and well-lit by a small staff and a bartender who smiled the second Colin and Dragon approached.
"You two together?" she asked.
Dragon nodded. "this is actually my, uh, first time."
She nodded back. "Alright, promise to take it easy?"
"Don't worry, I won't go overboard. I was thinking about starting with something fruity, really."
"I've got an idea for that." the bartender looked at Colin. "and you? What's your poison?"
Colin shrugged. "haven't really had anything like this since… something light maybe, preferably a beer?"
She nodded again. "Got just the thing. Local brew, first one founded in NYG, actually. And for you, I can mix a strawberry daiquiri."
They both agreed and showed their IDs, which Colin began to comment on once out of earshot. "So, this is why you couldn't drink before?"
Dragon nodded, handing him her own ID. "This and a few other reasons. I can't break laws, so having any kind of legal documentation would have to be given to me by whatever government I'm a citizen of. Considering I was made in 2003 and special dispensation for public drinking wasn't a priority for something that can't get drunk," she shrugged as the bartender handed them their drinks."too many things were stopping me."
Colin took a sip, then turned to Dragon. "So, 'Tara S. Quincy', how does it taste?"
She shrugged. "tastes like a strawberry daiquiri. I'll add it to the program of tastes I like." she swirled her drink thoughtfully for a second, then took a second sip. "And now it can get me drunk."
He raised his own glass in a toast. "Well, to Tara, a girl who can legally drink, watch a movie with more than one fuck, and drive-" he paused. "Although, not driving tonight. We should probably get someone to drive us, actually."
She tapped his glass with her own. "Hell, at that rate, why not make a party out of it? Night on the town to celebrate me getting free."
"Sure." he took another drink, finishing off his first glass. "the guest list might be a bit short, though. I don't have a lot of friends."
Her grin shifted ever so slightly as she finished off her own drink, the bartender giving both of them a second. Internally, she pulled up a list of contacts and sent a few messages. "More than you think." she lifted her glass. "to freedom?"
He smiled and shared her toast. "To having everything we need, and to a much-needed party." with that,
they both downed their second glass.
Dragon smiled, fondly running a finger over the naked frame lying next to her. So fragile and soft, she thought, in her still-drunk state. Looks so good with a smile, though. Definitely should smile more when we're both awake. She gently nuzzled the shoulder in front of her, brushing away a small tuft of black hair away. I'll make her happy, though.
'Good Time program ceasing operation', a voice in her head informed her. 'beginning Hangover.exe'
Her eyes widened, and she jerked back from her partner, Colin's arms instinctually wrapping around her torso and giving a quiet groan behind her. In front of her, Hannah blinked awake slowly. Then her eyes met Dragon. A very very naked Dragon.
Dragon screamed. Hannah--the heroic Miss Militia--also screamed. This woke Colin, who started screaming as well. All three of them winced at the wave of headaches that hit them.
"What the fuck!?" Whispered Colin.
"I'm so sorry!" Dragon said to both.
All either could hear from Hannah was her repeatedly mumbling "Not again!"