Untitled Mecha WIP

 

❖ This is a snippet of a future project. At this time, I'm not sure if I'll be writing it as its own thing, or just writing it in parts and then collecting it into something cohesive later. For now, let's enjoy the ride. ❖

The near-silence of space was the only place where Ego could concentrate. No overlapping voices, no deploying pilots, no distractions. Just the oh so faint hum of the cosmos. Humans couldn’t hear it, but it was at just the right frequency for Ego to hone in on. It was lazy and soft and— hell, they would say it— it was cute. The sound had become familiar to them, something that was solely theirs, over the past few weeks as they tore through ships and mechs that needed to be salvaged.

Which weren’t a lot considering the number of them. Ego had even pulled their more interesting findings all the way into an asteroid belt to save certain wreckage for later examination. Their crew hated it when they did that, but if Ego was going to do all the work, then they would dictate how the parts were treated until they were returned to the ship. If they ever were.

Their internal systems whirred as they cycled space dust into breathable air, which they pumped back into an emergency oxygen canister on their retrieval vessel. It helped keep track of the time. If one could imagine, drifting planets around a blinding white sun didn’t often make for good clocks. They were too slow; they lulled Ego into a rhythm that was hard to break from, and their crewmates got impatient (or antsy or downright angry) when they were gone for too long. Ego sucked their teeth and sneered as they drew up a holographic only they could see. C1, 29%. By the time all the canisters filled up, Ego would have had their fill of space. They pulled their gloves down over their hands and turned their eyes at the detached vessel in front of them.

Bad Connection

As odd as it was to say, the room they were in now felt... damp. Humid, for a better word. There was that stifling thickness that was hard to label otherwise, but it was subtle enough to go without comment. Verbal comment. Locus’ mind was going a mile a minute with various complaints about the room, that negging humidity, the way their suit clung to their body, and the back pressed against their own. They sighed heavily and tensed their brows together. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t feel like leaning against a steel wall.

     “How’re we feeling, pilots?” came a cheery voice over the intercom.

     “Good,” Lotus replied with mocking energy. Their brows arched and head bounced slightly to boot. Behind them, Carnage said nothing. Typical. They could feel Carnage’s arm shift behind them, and they probably gave a gesture of some sort to show their mood.

     “Good, good. Great , even, one would say.” And then, there were a few seconds of chatter just barely coherent through the speaker. Whoever their coordinator was today had a nice voice, Lotus noted, but he was also taking his sweet time, so it really wasn’t much to— “We’ll be beginning the synapsis test in a moment. Just clear your mind. You’ll get a warning before we start.”

     Carnage exhaled slowly. Lotus could feel the tension leave their body through their touching backs. “Finally,” the quieter pilot murmured.

     “That’s what I’m saying.” Lotus decided to follow their lead. They sucked in a breath and then let it out seconds later. It took a moment or two before they could properly clear their mind, but they always struggled with this. One of their physicians said it was a wonder they were a pilot at all... Their lip curled at the memory, and they had to snatch it to the back of their mind once more. This was no time to think about that. Another breath in, another out.

Stories of Samhain: Maiden's Voyage

Samhain... The time when the veil was thinnest between worlds. Captain Devnaugh struck a match against the wooden railing before bringing it up to light her pipe. She took a few puffs, all while trying to fight a smile that threatened to spread across her face. Soon, she shook out the match, pulled out her pipe, and blew smoke circles into the air. Afterward, she smiled up at the moon that stood out as a bright spot against the inky black sky.

It was also the best time for business. Anyone with sense hired seafarers to protect their villages, but those with actual brains knew that pirates could get the job done better than anyone else. Fishermen could hold their own... maybe, but their vessels weren’t built for combat. Just made no sense. Navymen came at a high price, and their way of doing things just didn’t float well with the captain.

The Navy liked to play by the rules, but only their rules. They cared little for the needs of the oceans; they couldn’t understand the subtle demands. They were businessmen in the end, and they only wanted that which would give them the most bragging rights. “Honour,” sure, but that was just a nice way of talking about their insidiously selfish ways.

Pirates knew that a little bit of superstition went a long way. Giving respect to the ocean paid better dividends than any coin or accolades mankind could offer. Captain Devnaugh took another puff thoughtfully as her ship cut through the nightwaters and drifted into the moonlight. She shuddered as she glided slowly into the radiance. After taking another hit from her pipe, she blew the smoke out of her nose now.

     Heavy bootfall sounded behind her, and then a crewmate spoke up. “Captain, we spotted the whirlpool nearby. It looks like it’s just getting started.”

     “Excellent.” Devnaugh overturned her pipe into her empty hand. “Let’s make our way over.”

     “Aye, aye!”

March 3rd, 19:53

The night was fast approaching, and yet three teens weren’t going home. Two of them were laughing as they walked through a sparse gathering of trees. The one in front looked over his shoulders to flash a gap-toothed grin at his friends. As he did, he nearly rolled his ankle when he stepped wrong on a loose rock. The two jerked forward to catch him, but outside of a flash of surprise on his face, he managed to shrug off the near accident.

     “What cha’ll trippin’ for? Relax.”

     “Says the one who almost actually really broke his neck,” said the girl behind him. She tugged her oversized jacket higher up onto her shoulders.

     He snorted before looking ahead. “Nah, wasn’t me.”

     She rolled her eyes. “Alright.”

The third teen remained quiet, though they reacted with a sigh and an eye roll of their own. They followed their friends through the grass and down the rocky decline— “Watch out now.” “I said relax, man. Quit sweatin’ me.” —to an empty parking lot on the side of a curving road.

In this lot was a single, small modular building. Its swinging doors had been pushed open and were locked into place against the side closest to the teens. One of the doors had a neon OPEN sign hanging from it, and on the flat roof was a much larger neon sign that had 24/7 in bright, looping text. The air was filled with the largest sign’s buzzing, but as the young boy jogged closer to the building, he heard the whirring sound of dozens of VCRs playing at once.

[Heartless] The Fateful Encounter

I found some inspiration lately in the form of ABD Illustrates. A friend sent me his YouTube channel, and I ended up navigating to his Concept Corner playlist wherein I saw his characters for a still-in-progress idea called Heartless. I highly recommend.

A disclaimer: these are my interpretations of things. While watching the CC playlist, I thought of a scene with the main character having a mission go wrong and also coming in contact with (one or two of) the BBEG(s). Nothing’s set in stone here. Just having a bit of fun.

In any case, preamble aside, let’s get into it.

     It was hard to see past the smoke billowing from the crater. Every time Heartless tried to call out to his friends, he choked on his voice. “Alche—!” Another cough. “F… Flint—!” He grabbed his throat and backed away from the smoke.

     “We’re all right!” shouted a voice past the cloud.

     “Get the crystal and go!” shouted someone else.

     Heartless spun around, looking frantically for the dull coloured crystal. “I can’t! I won’t leave you!” But he needed to find that crystal. It helped take the burden off his magical core; it empowered him. It… spoke to him? It was hard for him to understand, but if he could grab it, he knew that he’d get some answers.

     “Can you really afford to say such a thing with that bleeding heart of yours?”

[FI] Training Session

The story below takes place briefly after the events of Feathertouch Impact and features AFTER.ALL, an all-female idol group and the book's guest stars. (Also posted on AO3.)

Four of the six members of AFTER.ALL were sitting on the floor as their training CD played in the background. They held their water bottles loosely between their hands and talked about their dreams or the events of the previous day. The remaining two members, Arke and Astra, were still running through the routine, trying to nail their timing and transitions. Arke raised her hand in the air to signal her singing part as she and Astra traded places with clever footwork.

When she brought her hand down again, the two women fell into a rhythm. Their synchronicity during the chorus was seamless, and they lip-synced to the words as they focused on their reflections in the mirror. But as they transitioned into the second hook, Astra lost her place, and she frowned. Noticing this, Arke broke away and ran over to the boombox. She clapped tiredly as she walked back over.

　　“Let’s take a break, okay?”

　　Pandora reached behind her to grab a seafoam green bottle, which she outstretched to Arke. “Good choice. Great work, both of you.”