Shipping itP II: Scourge of the Seven Seas

[SMEE]

..........
I'm going to go hide in the corner now.



P.S. YAY! Go SMEE!

No, you go and write a Bea/wadledo fic yourself now.

[Quincunx]

Reasons for Waiting

Spoiler

Show

Oh, God, not again--
No, not 'not again', never 'not again', but please--
He dropped his hands down to her jeans, shifted his grip, and boosted her up to sit on the trunk.
Please, can't we--
Not wait, but we haven't even talked yet, not really--
Every so often a raindrop hissed as it hit the uncovered engine block and vaporized.
Maybe that'll cool it down before the tow truck gets here--
God, I'm an idiot. Thinking about the car now. She's not--
Her other hand shot up his back and dragged his head down for a kiss. He pulled his lips away for a moment; yes, her eyes were shut, with that unnecessary smear of makeup, less lovely blue. Her fingers hunted through his hair, pulling, urging him down.
"Sweet--"
Muffled into a kiss, he struggled to finish the thought. She reclined on her elbow and let her other hand tug at his shirt, pulling it out of the waistband. A gust of wind billowed it out, touched his torso with the last of the rain, and he turned away from her face to nuzzle into her palm.
Phew. That gets her fingers away from my hair, those nails of hers hurt--
Those nails--
He straightened up, let go of her body to take her hand in both of his. Her nails glowed from the sun shining through them--
Her fingerprints. . .they're luminous--
He kissed each fingertip in disbelief. They were real, and luminous, and tasted like the scent of her suitcases, and the tip of his nose fit into the crease between her fingers as he kissed his way down, growing warmer (she had let go of his shirt), and when his captured breath swirled around in the palm of her hand, he drew back to gaze at it--
It's full of light--
None of the lines intersected, and none threw a shadow deep enough to lash down the light. He stared at the streak worn smooth, where she had gripped the suitcases to drag them down concourse and gateway, a fissure deeper than her sky-like eyes, fraction of a world of endless light. . .
"Sweetheart. . .love. . .your hand. . .look into your hand. . ."
And be lost.

[ghost_warlock]

Reasons for Waiting

Spoiler

Show

Oh, God, not again--
No, not 'not again', never 'not again', but please--
He dropped his hands down to her jeans, shifted his grip, and boosted her up to sit on the trunk.
Please, can't we--
Not wait, but we haven't even talked yet, not really--
Every so often a raindrop hissed as it hit the uncovered engine block and vaporized.
Maybe that'll cool it down before the tow truck gets here--
God, I'm an idiot. Thinking about the car now. She's not--
Her other hand shot up his back and dragged his head down for a kiss. He pulled his lips away for a moment; yes, her eyes were shut, with that unnecessary smear of makeup, less lovely blue. Her fingers hunted through his hair, pulling, urging him down.
"Sweet--"
Muffled into a kiss, he struggled to finish the thought. She reclined on her elbow and let her other hand tug at his shirt, pulling it out of the waistband. A gust of wind billowed it out, touched his torso with the last of the rain, and he turned away from her face to nuzzle into her palm.
Phew. That gets her fingers away from my hair, those nails of hers hurt--
Those nails--
He straightened up, let go of her body to take her hand in both of his. Her nails glowed from the sun shining through them--
Her fingerprints. . .they're luminous--
He kissed each fingertip in disbelief. They were real, and luminous, and tasted like the scent of her suitcases, and the tip of his nose fit into the crease between her fingers as he kissed his way down, growing warmer (she had let go of his shirt), and when his captured breath swirled around in the palm of her hand, he drew back to gaze at it--
It's full of light--
None of the lines intersected, and none threw a shadow deep enough to lash down the light. He stared at the streak worn smooth, where she had gripped the suitcases to drag them down concourse and gateway, a fissure deeper than her sky-like eyes, fraction of a world of endless light. . .
"Sweetheart. . .love. . .your hand. . .look into your hand. . ."
And be lost.

Wow. That's very...frantic.

[Quincunx]

Retrospective subtitle. Reasons for Waiting I: Cobra Ikari's Eyes.

Reasons for Waiting II: Dallas-Dakota's Ears.

Spoiler

Show

"Just say something, heehee!"
"I don't know what to say. . ." The blushing was traveling down his neck by now, soon it'd burn her ear off and then she'd stop leaning against his chest and her hair would stop tickling his chin and that couldn't happen. "Um. Testing, three two one," that was idiotic and wrong, "hello?" so say something else, quick! "What do you want to hear?"
"Oh, anything, it doesn't matter," she cooed. She wasn't nuzzling, but holding her head still against his chest, and her ear was nestled against that little crease over his breastbone. "I like hearing the echoes. It still sounds like you, but, I don't know, more like you."
"What?"
No, no, no! She sat up, and tickled him, and freed strands of her hair from the stubble on his chin. "Here, try it. Listen to me."
Yes, yes, yes! Her shirt smelled like flowers, not perfume flowers, but like flowers were resting there and not just printed on there. Amazing. He kept still for a moment to marvel at it, and that let her guide his ear a bit higher than hers had been on him. Also she was sitting up straight, drawing herself up. Well, his chin was probably blushing too hot to have there anyway.
"Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Sweet and pretty in the ear he had in the air, the note was, but she was right. In the nestled ear, it was. . .more. Flutters slipping down from her throat and vibrating the upper edge of his ear. Her chest falling away from his earlobe as she emptied her lungs. Faint whisk-whisk-whisk whispers of her pulse touching one of the ridges in his ear. . .

[Dallas-Dakota]

Retrospective subtitle. Reasons for Waiting I: Cobra Ikari's Eyes.

Reasons for Waiting II: Dallas-Dakota's Ears.

Spoiler

Show

"Just say something, heehee!"
"I don't know what to say. . ." The blushing was traveling down his neck by now, soon it'd burn her ear off and then she'd stop leaning against his chest and her hair would stop tickling his chin and that couldn't happen. "Um. Testing, three two one," that was idiotic and wrong, "hello?" so say something else, quick! "What do you want to hear?"
"Oh, anything, it doesn't matter," she cooed. She wasn't nuzzling, but holding her head still against his chest, and her ear was nestled against that little crease over his breastbone. "I like hearing the echoes. It still sounds like you, but, I don't know, more like you."
"What?"
No, no, no! She sat up, and tickled him, and freed strands of her hair from the stubble on his chin. "Here, try it. Listen to me."
Yes, yes, yes! Her shirt smelled like flowers, not perfume flowers, but like flowers were resting there and not just printed on there. Amazing. He kept still for a moment to marvel at it, and that let her guide his ear a bit higher than hers had been on him. Also she was sitting up straight, drawing herself up. Well, his chin was probably blushing too hot to have there anyway.
"Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Sweet and pretty in the ear he had in the air, the note was, but she was right. In the nestled ear, it was. . .more. Flutters slipping down from her throat and vibrating the upper edge of his ear. Her chest falling away from his earlobe as she emptied her lungs. Faint whisk-whisk-whisk whispers of her pulse touching one of the ridges in his ear. . .

Very frantic indeed, but I like it!

[CurlyKitGirl]

@Quincunx: nice. Are they all reflections on an aspect of someones physical appearance then?

You won't believe this; but I've figured out how to make Bicycle Race by Queen into a fanfic.
If this works and people like I wil accept the title Mistress of Queenfics.

[The Rose Dragon]

Am I in it? Am I? Am I?

[Dallas-Dakota]

@Quincunx: nice. Are they all reflections on an aspect of someones physical appearance then?

You won't believe this; but I've figured out how to make Bicycle Race by Queen into a fanfic.
If this works and people like I wil accept the title Mistress of Queenfics.

Dear Curly, you are the mistress of all gitp fics.

[CurlyKitGirl]

^: Am not.


And eet ees done! Eef you like zees vairee, vairee 'ard to write feec, pleeese zey so.

(The) Rose (Dragon)/Cassie
Differences - song: Bicycle Race

Spoiler

Show

I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
That was how they met; riding their bikes on a forest path. Actually, they more or less crashed into each other because she was distracted by a fox kit, he was busy listening to his beloved music, eyes half shut.
They both damaged their bikes so ended up walking back together, and on the way discovered many things. Mostly that what one hated the other loved.
You say black I say white
You say bark I say bite
You say shark I say hey man
Jaws was never my scene
And I don't like Star Wars
Colours, films, animals, music. Not a thing in common, and yet they couldn't help but enjoy themselves as they walked through verdant greens and golds all fading the the burning oranges and fiery reds of autumn.
They guess opposites attracted after all. Never believed in that cliche before, but they still found themselves telling the other - a stranger until that fateful meeting - things they'd seldom revealed to even their closest confidante or family member.
And the raging arguments they slipped into from time to time on as they ever - dawdled to lengthen their time together. And how they grinned and gesticulated wildly - always taking care of their bikes - to the rare walker passing by the atmosphere between the two was an intimate one. But yet this was their first meeting.
But it turned out that they were both taking part in the same sponsored bike race in a week so they swapped numbers and arranged to meet on the day of the race.
The day dawned and the two arrived nice and early for a pre - race chat. And prepared for the race.
Bicycle races are coming your way
So forget all your duties oh yeah!
. . .
On your marks get set go
They didn't win the race though. Not that it mattered by then, Rose and Cassie just found joy by riding with one another, besides, it wasn't like they were competing to win anything big.
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
They wanted to ride side by side forever.

[PhoeKun]

^: Am not.


And eet ees done! Eef you like zees vairee, vairee 'ard to write feec, pleeese zey so.

(The) Rose (Dragon)/Cassie
Differences - song: Bicycle Race

Spoiler

Show

I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
That was how they met; riding their bikes on a forest path. Actually, they more or less crashed into each other because she was distracted by a fox kit, he was busy listening to his beloved music, eyes half shut.
They both damaged their bikes so ended up walking back together, and on the way discovered many things. Mostly that what one hated the other loved.
You say black I say white
You say bark I say bite
You say shark I say hey man
Jaws was never my scene
And I don't like Star Wars
Colours, films, animals, music. Not a thing in common, and yet they couldn't help but enjoy themselves as they walked through verdant greens and golds all fading the the burning oranges and fiery reds of autumn.
They guess opposites attracted after all. Never believed in that cliche before, but they still found themselves telling the other - a stranger until that fateful meeting - things they'd seldom revealed to even their closest confidante or family member.
And the raging arguments they slipped into from time to time on as they ever - dawdled to lengthen their time together. And how they grinned and gesticulated wildly - always taking care of their bikes - to the rare walker passing by the atmosphere between the two was an intimate one. But yet this was their first meeting.
But it turned out that they were both taking part in the same sponsored bike race in a week so they swapped numbers and arranged to meet on the day of the race.
The day dawned and the two arrived nice and early for a pre - race chat. And prepared for the race.
Bicycle races are coming your way
So forget all your duties oh yeah!
. . .
On your marks get set go
They didn't win the race though. Not that it mattered by then, Rose and Cassie just found joy by riding with one another, besides, it wasn't like they were competing to win anything big.
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
They wanted to ride side by side forever.

...

*hands you a crown, a scepter, and a certificate proclaiming you Mistress of Queenfics*

*wanders off to listen to the song again*

[The Rose Dragon]

Hmm... a story about me and my sister apparently hooking up.

Should I be disgusted?

[CurlyKitGirl]

So it worked out? Because I was determined to work my way (erratically) through all the Greatest hits albums and that one posed a problem for me.

Also, I'm planning on doing The Invisible Man next. SHould I go creepy way or the way of heart break?

@^: my writing, my universe. What I say goes. Besides, so many brothers, sisters and relations have been paired with each other that it really just doesn't matter any more.
Cassie's sig once said: "GitP: so much incest we're reversing evolution" or similar.
Stick with that.

[happyturtle]

Go for creepy. We've had a lot of heart break lately.

[Mr. Moon]

But I like the heart break...

[Raistlin1040]

You called for a heartbreak?

Writing to Reach You: Moon Called/Raistlin

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Raistlin was depressed often. It was just how he was. He was moody. But, even when he feeling down, and wanted to lie alone in his room, Moon Called always comforted him. She'd turn on his favorite music, turn on the lights, and lie on the bed with him until he felt better. It was why he loved her, she always made him smile.

Until one day. He woke up to the sound of his radio. It was playing all the usual, the day wasn't particularly special. There was a note on his nightstand. He picked it up and opened it.

Dear Raist,

I don't think I can do this anymore. You're a great guy, but this just isn't working out, and I think we shouldn't be together anymore.

Love,
Moon

He read it. Reread it. Again and again. It didn't make sense, he loved her, she loved him, they weren't supposed to split up. He sat on the bed, numb, not wanting to think, feel, anything. After a while, he fumbled for the phone, dialing her number. She picked up.

Hello?
Moon, I...I need to talk to you.
Silence.
Umm, Raist...
I know, you don't want to be with me anymore, but I need...to know why...I can change, whatever it is. He sounded desperate. She sighed on the other end.
Look, I just don't think I can be your comfort blanket anymore. It's too much. I can't deal with your depression, I just can't. You're just...too clingy Raistlin.
Really, I can fix it. I can get meds for the depression, I will, I swear. His voice wavered, and he shut up.
I'm sure you could but...well...I met this guy the other day at the park, and...

He hung up. Once there was another guy, it was over. He laid back against his pillow, tears beginning to flow from his eyes. He couldn't imagine being without her, and looked at the ceiling, alone, isolated, and more depressed than he had ever been before.

I'm on a crappy writing streak. Can't seem to get anything right.

[Vespe Ratavo]

@Curly: [/thread]

Seriously. [/thread] The thread is over. Curly has officially won the thread. There's really no point in posting any more fics, ever. Which isn't going to stop me.

@Raistlin: Is very good. But is sad.

And yes, a fic is coming, I promise! Don't smite me! I'm just really disappointed with the state of my writing lately. Everything seems so forced and arbitrary, everyone is acting entirely out of character, the plot never goes anywhere, whine whine etc.

To where has my muse gone?

Oh. She was right over there. Fic coming soon, probably.

[RabbitHoleLost]

Rabbit will post something heart break-y soon.

[Cobra_Ikari]

*cries*...more heartbreaky? v.v

[Thufir]

Also, I'm planning on doing The Invisible Man next. SHould I go creepy way or the way of heart break?

Why not do both?

[ghost_warlock]

We all must have been away working for the next few days, because part 3 of my fic should be done today, too.

And, oh yes my pretties, I'm introducing two new characters.

Alt-text - The new characters are demons: Corruption and Terror.

[happyturtle]

He's not on the shipping list, but I got permission to post this.

OMGWTFBBQ!

Spoiler

Show

Draken Frosthand was just passing through the plane on his way to destroy all life, but he forgot to turn left at Albequerque. Next thing he knew, he was completely lost. He wandered around until he saw someone. Or rather part of someone. He could only see the body in front of him. The head was peering through a hole in the floor.

"Excuse me. I don't suppose you could tell me where I am."

The creature looked up. Draken searched his memory for some time before coming upon the name of the creature--a cat. Yes. It was a cat.

"Ur in mah ceiling," the cat said. "I r Ceiling Cat."

"I... see. And what are you doing?"

"LOL! Watching!"

"Watching what?"

((In the interest of sparing the delicate sensibilities of our readers, the narrator will skip the answer. Besides, everyone already knows what Ceiling Cat watches.))

"That's... that's disgusting! Filthy apes! Repulsive godspawn! Do mortals really do that?"

"Ya rly. Srsly."

"And you watch? But why?"

"I r Ceiling Cat. Iz mah job."

"And could you please stop talking like that?"

Ceiling Cat looked shifty, then backed away from the whole. "Okay, but for the love of all that's cheezy, don't tell anyone! I was cursed. I was captioned and memed, and I've been stuck here watching hoomins--er, humans--defile themselves ever since. I'd happily gouge my eyes out if I could, but f***king memes are indestructible!"

"Indestructible? I think not. Only destruction resistant. To destroy a meme, all one must do is destroy its natural environment--the internet."

"You could do that?" Ceiling Cat asked in awe.

"Easily."

"OMG! If you would do that, I'd--I'd love you forever!" Ceiling Cat blurted out.

"Love?!" Draken said, making the word sound like the vilest profanity. "You dare...!"

This outrage must be punished. He could attack the cat's mind, sending him spiraling into madness. Or perhaps banish it's soul to Oblivion. Or... yes... Perfect.

"I leave you as I found you. I can conceive of no fate more terrible."

And Draken vanished, leaving behind a puddle of desecrated, arcane vomit.

i r srs shipper. this r srs ship.

[Saint Nil]

So, how long till ship wars then?
EDIT-Finished reading it. Draken truly IS evil. Poor ceiling cat..

[Ashen Lilies]

Ouch. That's evil. *continues mission to slay Draken*

[randman22222]

He's not on the shipping list, but I got permission to post this.

OMGWTFBBQ

Spoiler

Show

Draken Frosthand was just passing through the plane on his way to destroy all life, but he forgot to turn left at Albequerque. Next thing he knew, he was completely lost. He wandered around until he saw someone. Or rather part of someone. He could only see the body in front of him. The head was peering through a hole in the floor.

"Excuse me. I don't suppose you could tell me where I am."

The creature looked up. Draken searched his memory for some time before coming upon the name of the creature--a cat. Yes. It was a cat.

"Ur in mah ceiling," the cat said. "I r Ceiling Cat."

"I... see. And what are you doing?"

"LOL! Watching!"

"Watching what?"

((In the interest of sparing the delicate sensibilities of our readers, the narrator will skip the answer. Besides, everyone already knows what Ceiling Cat watches.))

"That's... that's disgusting! Filthy apes! Repulsive godspawn! Do mortals really do that?"

"Ya rly. Srsly."

"And you watch? But why?"

"I r Ceiling Cat. Iz mah job."

"And could you please stop talking like that?"

Ceiling Cat looked shifty, then backed away from the whole. "Okay, but for the love of all that's cheezy, don't tell anyone! I was cursed. I was captioned and memed, and I've been stuck here watching hoomins--er, humans--defile themselves ever since. I'd happily gouge my eyes out if I could, but f***king memes are indestructible!"

"Indestructible? I think not. Only destruction resistant. To destroy a meme, all one must do is destroy its natural environment--the internet."

"You could do that?" Ceiling Cat asked in awe.

"Easily."

"OMG! If you would do that, I'd--I'd love you forever!" Ceiling Cat blurted out.

"Love?!" Draken said, making the word sound like the vilest profanity. "You dare...!"

This outrage must be punished. He could attack the cat's mind, sending him spiraling into madness. Or perhaps banish it's soul to Oblivion. Or... yes... Perfect.

"I leave you as I found you. I can conceive of no fate more terrible."

And Draken vanished, leaving behind a puddle of desecrated, arcane vomit.

That was funny.

[Draken]

There is untold mercy in the utter obliteration of an existance.

I will be damned if I am ever that merciful.

[Castaras]

^: Am not.


And eet ees done! Eef you like zees vairee, vairee 'ard to write feec, pleeese zey so.

(The) Rose (Dragon)/Cassie
Differences - song: Bicycle Race

Spoiler

Show

I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
That was how they met; riding their bikes on a forest path. Actually, they more or less crashed into each other because she was distracted by a fox kit, he was busy listening to his beloved music, eyes half shut.
They both damaged their bikes so ended up walking back together, and on the way discovered many things. Mostly that what one hated the other loved.
You say black I say white
You say bark I say bite
You say shark I say hey man
Jaws was never my scene
And I don't like Star Wars
Colours, films, animals, music. Not a thing in common, and yet they couldn't help but enjoy themselves as they walked through verdant greens and golds all fading the the burning oranges and fiery reds of autumn.
They guess opposites attracted after all. Never believed in that cliche before, but they still found themselves telling the other - a stranger until that fateful meeting - things they'd seldom revealed to even their closest confidante or family member.
And the raging arguments they slipped into from time to time on as they ever - dawdled to lengthen their time together. And how they grinned and gesticulated wildly - always taking care of their bikes - to the rare walker passing by the atmosphere between the two was an intimate one. But yet this was their first meeting.
But it turned out that they were both taking part in the same sponsored bike race in a week so they swapped numbers and arranged to meet on the day of the race.
The day dawned and the two arrived nice and early for a pre - race chat. And prepared for the race.
Bicycle races are coming your way
So forget all your duties oh yeah!
. . .
On your marks get set go
They didn't win the race though. Not that it mattered by then, Rose and Cassie just found joy by riding with one another, besides, it wasn't like they were competing to win anything big.
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
They wanted to ride side by side forever.

Biiicycle biiicycle. I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike...

amusing. Especially with the brother/sister part of it.

[ghost_warlock]

OMGWTFBBQ!
*snip*

That's epic!

Got mine done, too!

As promised, I introduced two new, demonic characters.

Seventeen Shards: Part Three
Starring:
Moon_Called
Terraoblivion
TwoBitWriter
Gem Flower
Alien

Featuring:
Collin152
ghost_warlock

Spoiler

Show

Gem lay awake, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. There was little moonlight to see by and what little there was merely cast deep shadows. She held very still for several minutes after waking, waiting for her heart to cease pounding through her head. The danger was over, the nightmare had passed.

Slowly, she reached through the blankets and found TwoBit, feeling the firm muscles of his back. She had been so cold in her dream; he was warm, reassuring. Feeling somewhat comforted by his presence, she slid over and pressed herself against him. He grunted in his sleep and rolled towards her. She rose slightly off the bed, letting him slip an arm under her neck. He wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her into a close embrace.

Cradled in his arms, she was protected and safe. Though sleep would be a long time coming, she was secure enough to close her eyes and reflect on the nightmare.

That thing had called her ‘little sister’ at the end. Could it really have been him, her big brother, trying to contact her? If so, why had he waited six years? Had he been unable to reach her before, been prevented, or had he simply not seen fit to do so? She missed him; didn’t he miss her? Or, had the demonshard completely consumed him, left nothing of the man he once was?

Whoever had sent the vision, though; it hadn’t been a friendly message. He wanted to scare her off, and hadn’t been shy or subtle in making the point. The dead villagers and ravens were bad enough, but watching a friend turn into a monster, seeing her lover and little brother’s corpses, had all been especially harsh.

What little information the nightmare gave about the bakeneko was useless. They already knew it was a shapeshifter; that it fed on the hearts of its victims. Deceitful, it preyed on peoples’ charity, tricked them into thinking there was someone who needed their help, a child who needed help. But she couldn’t ignore someone crying, no matter the danger, in case someone really did need her.

How truthful was the dream? It was anyone’s guess. He’d said the bakeneko was linked to Crocotta, could that be true? She accepted Crocotta, like Raven, had agents in the world. Monsters. Was the bakeneko one of them? In a way, it made perfect sense. Like Crocotta, the bakeneko was always hungry, secretive, and patient. It waited for its prey to come its way. Crocotta had no need for haste. One day it would devour everything, the entire cosmos. This was inevitable. Philosophers, mystics, and priests all agreed that there was no stopping it, no way to reverse the destruction it caused, not even a way to delay the grim, but far-off, fate.

Part of growing up is learning to accept the things one cannot change. He had told her that himself, years ago. Was that the subtext of the vision, then? The bakeneko was unbeatable, he’d said. Was the only solution, then, to run? Run, or let it destroy them?

No. Perhaps she was reading too much into it. In any case, Crocotta would not succeed in consuming the last bit of creation for eons. This wouldn’t occur until long after humanity was gone from the world, each person flown up to Raven on the wings of a black-winged bird. There was no sense in surrendering before the battle had even begun.

There had to be a way to stop the bakeneko, imprison it if it couldn’t be killed. They’d have to find a way. The dream changed nothing. In the morning, they would follow through with their plan. They would summon the demon, big brother, and force him to tell them how the bakeneko could be defeated.

With a smile, she let sleep embrace her.

******

In the realm of Terror, amidst the Underworld, two demons watched Gem Flower and listened to her thoughts as she drifted back to sleep. The room was mostly featureless, with dark stone walls and deep shadows cast by flickering torches. In the center of the room was a wide pool of brackish liquid, the gazing pool.

Collin 152, master of the demonshard Corruption, laughed. “Looks like you went through all that for nothing. They’re going to summon you and try to best the bakeneko tomorrow anyway.”

If Collin152’s words and ridicule bothered him, Ghost Warlock, host to the demonshard Terror, didn’t let it show. But a cloud of darkness, with a pair of shining yellow eyes, had precious little in the way of body language.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ghost said. “The exercise cost me only a little time and was good practice. Crafting an effective nightmare is a fitting use of my abilities, and a skill I could always stand to improve. And, now I’m certain of their plan of action; that they won’t simply flee without a confrontation.”

“A confrontation with you or the bakeneko?”

“Why can’t it be with both?”

Collin152 smiled. “Ah, seems I may make a fitting demon of you yet.”

“Yes, I owe all of this to you.”

“Good to hear you admit it, although you might go a bit thinner on the sarcasm next time. Things could have gone much worse for you. I could have left you to rot, mindraped for eternity, rather than help you usurp the previous bearer of your shard.”

“Forgive me, but I somehow doubt you’d pass up the opportunity to lead a paladin astray.”

“Can you blame me? Your predecessor was so boring. I needed to liven things up a bit. They’re all so predictable around here. That’s why you mortals are so fun!”

“I’m not a mortal. Not anymore.”

“But you certainly think like one most of the time. Take that nightmare for instance. Just when things were starting to get really interesting, when you had her tied up and helpless, you let her go. Others of us would have gone in for the kill, or at least damaged her dignity, left her whimpering for you to stop. But you didn’t, and I’m betting it’s because you still think of her as your darling little sister.”

“Half-sister. If you want rape or murder, talk to Malice, or maybe Lust. My role is to spread fear, not brutalize.”

“Thinking like a mortal again. You’re a demon, now. Terror’s just a name, not a job description. You’re bound by no code, no oaths. Not anymore. Have some fun, explore your abilities, and embrace your dark side.” Collin152 considered his companion’s form. “So to speak.”

“I think I’ll take things at my own pace, do things my way. But thanks for the suggestions.”

Collin152 shrugged. “Ah, what are mortal enemies for, if not honest criticism?”

“Speaking of enemies, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do before the witch starts the summoning. I’m not quite done with the imp.”

“Yeah, you’d best get it finished if you don’t want to stay a disembodied smudge of darkness forever. Or if you don’t want to be completely bound to that witch’s will when she summons you.” Collin152 frowned; imps were serious business.

“Precisely. Now, please leave. I prefer to work alone.”

“In other words, you’re hiding something. That’s fine, we all have secrets. I’ll figure it out before long anyway.”

“Not unlikely, considering how difficult it is to be rid of you, keep you out.”

“You’ll figure out how to lock the borders of your realm eventually. Until then, can you blame me if I come and go as I please?”

“Yes. I feel some restraint wouldn’t be too much to ask.”

“Cute. I guess I’ll leave daddy to have some alone time with his little creation, then. I’ll be seeing you later, the summoning should be interesting.”

“I’m sure I’ll have quite the audience.”

“These things are always lots of fun, and you’re the new kid. Everyone wants to see what you’ll do next.”

“In that case, I can’t wait until I’m boring and predictable like everyone else.”

“Don’t grow up too fast, you’re more fun like this.”

“For you.”

“Who did you think I was talking about?” Collin152 faded, teleporting himself back to his own realm.

Finally alone in the chamber, Ghost gave a mental command. Before him, a pseudopod of slick, inky goo flowed up from the floor. Slowly, it became more and more humanoid. Though there were many other creatures flitting around the various passages and crevices of the demonic realms, each following the commands of their respective masters, an imp was an exceptional creature in that it was essentially an extension of the demon’s will. An imp was a token of esteem and demons took great pride in creating them, shaping the servants according to personal tastes and aesthetics. Each imp took a great deal of time and energy to create and maintain. Thus, older and more established demons had as many as a dozen of the creatures, while Ghost was struggling to complete just one.

He had debated whether to give the imp an obvious physical gender or to leave it androgynous. In the end, he had decided to make it feminine, perhaps due to some human need for companionship. The demon part of him rebelled against this, though, and he happily went along with it, twisting the imp’s features into something unsettling. Her eyes were set too wide and twisted at an odd angle. Her nose was small and the angles of her facial bones were inhumanly sharp. He gave her long black hair, tied into a pair of braided pigtails. Almost as an after sight, he gave her dozens of tiny, triangular teeth, like a shark’s.

Her physical form complete, the truly hard part would be to invest it with intelligence and a semblance of life from his shard, so it could act on its own and anticipate his needs. Thus far, he hadn’t figured out how to accomplish this.

For today, though, it didn’t matter. Her body stepped forward at his mental command and he engulfed her, infused her, with the darkness that composed his form. Made strictly of semi-physical substance, he could wear the imp’s body like a glove. She gave him form again, and acted as a potent conduit to his realm wherever he went.

He reshaped the body, making it more masculine and draping it in a thick violet robe. His head remained shrouded in darkness, his eyes two angry slits that glowed with yellow light.

From where he’d stashed them, deep in his realm, he summoned a long, thin sword and a jagged, curved knife. He strapped the sword at this side and tucked the knife inside his robe.

Possessing a physical form for the first time in almost six years, he was now all-but ready for the witch’s summoning to begin. He had but one final task to complete first. Concentrating on the mortal realm, searching for one mind in particular, he wondered what it was that the bakeneko feared.

Edit: Oh, by the way, the other original characters will be more involved in the next segment, I promise!

[RabbitHoleLost]

He's not on the shipping list, but I got permission to post this.

OMGWTFBBQ!

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Draken Frosthand was just passing through the plane on his way to destroy all life, but he forgot to turn left at Albequerque. Next thing he knew, he was completely lost. He wandered around until he saw someone. Or rather part of someone. He could only see the body in front of him. The head was peering through a hole in the floor.

"Excuse me. I don't suppose you could tell me where I am."

The creature looked up. Draken searched his memory for some time before coming upon the name of the creature--a cat. Yes. It was a cat.

"Ur in mah ceiling," the cat said. "I r Ceiling Cat."

"I... see. And what are you doing?"

"LOL! Watching!"

"Watching what?"

((In the interest of sparing the delicate sensibilities of our readers, the narrator will skip the answer. Besides, everyone already knows what Ceiling Cat watches.))

"That's... that's disgusting! Filthy apes! Repulsive godspawn! Do mortals really do that?"

"Ya rly. Srsly."

"And you watch? But why?"

"I r Ceiling Cat. Iz mah job."

"And could you please stop talking like that?"

Ceiling Cat looked shifty, then backed away from the whole. "Okay, but for the love of all that's cheezy, don't tell anyone! I was cursed. I was captioned and memed, and I've been stuck here watching hoomins--er, humans--defile themselves ever since. I'd happily gouge my eyes out if I could, but f***king memes are indestructible!"

"Indestructible? I think not. Only destruction resistant. To destroy a meme, all one must do is destroy its natural environment--the internet."

"You could do that?" Ceiling Cat asked in awe.

"Easily."

"OMG! If you would do that, I'd--I'd love you forever!" Ceiling Cat blurted out.

"Love?!" Draken said, making the word sound like the vilest profanity. "You dare...!"

This outrage must be punished. He could attack the cat's mind, sending him spiraling into madness. Or perhaps banish it's soul to Oblivion. Or... yes... Perfect.

"I leave you as I found you. I can conceive of no fate more terrible."

And Draken vanished, leaving behind a puddle of desecrated, arcane vomit.

i r srs shipper. this r srs ship.

Best ship ever.
Srsly.

[Quincunx]

@CurlyKitGirl: This is a writing exercise about sensory organs.

I wanted to dedicate this one, but I cannot untangle the Family itP thread for long enough to name a multi-generational relationship. Most likely better off unattributed.

Reasons for Waiting III: Fingers.

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I should have followed you.
Never mind that the walls just shook from you slamming the door--I should've followed. Every step-mother's manual that exists tells me I should get involved with your life, the good and the bad. And yes, you did deserve to lose your cell phone privileges for that little stunt. But you--I was surprised--you have your father's hands, do you know? He grabbed my wrist just the same way when I was about to touch the crockpot without pot holders. You didn't have that excuse. You just didn't want me to touch that folded plastic. That was protecting yourself, not me! No excuse!
Shaking the walls again, softer now. I'll have to apologize to your father; it's that punching ball, isn't it, the one I said was a waste of money? Almost soothing if I lean my shoulder against the wall. Like that fancy bed. . .
No excuse for that either.
No excuse for looking down and knowing I was looking at your father's hands before I'd been lucky enough to meet him. No excuse for feeling happy to feel the knuckles not swollen, no excuse for picking your hand off of my wrist instead of pulling myself free. Absolutely no excuse for wanting to make up for our lost youth right there and then! No excuse, not even for a moment!
I'm a horrible step-mother.
Go ahead, bash away at your punching bag, break down the walls. Let them come down and crush me before I wonder what else you have that's just like your father's.

[Kaelaroth]

Should I ship someone?