So. This has lived on my hard drive for over a year and a half now, and in my head for much longer than that. I have the entire plot mapped out in my mind, and it's not *too* long. But it's gonna require a lot of careful writing that I think is beyond my ability, and definitely beyond my current available free time level. Maybe when I advance to candidacy, or maybe this is the story I use a portable backpacking writing setup for.
Either way. It's very deliberately allegorical, and taps into a few sci fi cliche "twists" that you're supposed to kinda figure out early on, but are used for bigger themes later.
As I said. Probably beyond my ability.
But here's how I kicked it off a while back. It has a similar "flow" to the intro of biologics, where it cuts between expository introspection and the actual events happening. Idk if that's weird, but it's what made sense to me.
Also I hate the working title I gave it, but I can't think of it as anything else now.
Symphony of the Stars
The bar I found myself in wasn't much different than millions of others like it. A couple cheap liquors that could be found anywhere, maybe a halfway decent local beer or two, and some tacky tourist paraphernalia hang haphazardly on the walls. Absentmindedly, I swirled my drink. My eyes slowly drifted through the panel windows behind the bar, and onto the orange gas giant visible through it.
That was one thing that made me partial to this little backwater- that damn view. Sure, the closer moons might advertise themselves on their intimate little peeks at the red spot, or the faintest glimpse of Jupiter's barely visible rings, but the people there... Not that I minded the workers, I'm a mechanic of sorts myself- but the miners, water pumpers, and atmospheric skimmers of Jupiter's inner moons were a particular brand of insufferable. Thinking that a couple years managing equipment in the Hellas basin made them the most rugged people on the planet, and then shipped themselves out to the furthest flung inhabited spot in the damn solar system. Joke's on them- most of them don't survive 10 years out here. The ones that make it are a different story, I'll give you that. A certain breed of person actually has what it takes to make it out here, and those people have earned some respect.
But I digress.
Callisto was a remote place, damn far from the sprawling metropolises of Mars or the more cushy mining jobs in the belt. Up until recently, it had been my own little sleepy backwater that I had used to escape my extended hours fixing ships for the harvesters on the other moons.
That was before jumping.
Callisto boasted a small engineering and research center near the south pole, most famous for getting artificial gravity fields working nearly three centuries ago. That bit of notoriety let someone set up a particle accelerator that looped the whole damn moon on its equator. Forty eight years ago, a researcher hit the right island of stability when making ultra-heavy elements, and something just... came together. The exact right amount of mass was focused in the exact right amount of space to dent space time in a perfect little way. A few measurements later, they realized that they had created the smallest documented black hole.
My eyes again wandered to the space in between us and Jupiter. That was the other reason I came to this bar so often. It was also the only place around where you could watch the show.
After a few times generating and collapsing this infant of a black hole, some idiot of a scientist decided that they just had to throw something into it. It wasn't much of anything, just a probe that blasted a repeating live image from its camera in all directions. And hopefully, if it survived in any identifiable form, someone would pick up on it.
Well, someone did. A little over four years later, we got a picture of a star. Real helpful- there's only a couple septillion of those out there, right? But what mattered was the timing, and the direction. The star was eventually identified as Proxima Centauri. The moment the image from the probe had been received, the receiver was exactly 4.2465433 light years away from Proxima. And the image was received exactly 4.2465433 years after the probe was thrown into the hole. Meaning that the probe was at Proxima, exactly 4.2465433 years before the image was received. And it was thrown into the hole, on Callisto.... also exactly 4.2465433 years before the image was received. One moment, Callisto. One moment, Proxima Centauri. In some unit of time that was smaller than our ability to measure, it had traveled to the next star system. It was the textbook definition of a wormhole.
And with that discovery, well....
Jupiter's red spot quivered ever so slightly. They were right on schedule, it seemed. Just need to gain a bit of mass in the accelerator, get the magnetic railgun to throw it all into the space above it....
Like fluid down a drain, the image of Jupiter swirled as a dark spot appeared in front of it. Slowly, it grew, twisting the orange and red tones of the gas giant in mosaic patterns, until the black orb stopped, hovering in the emptiness.
After the initial wormhole generation all those years ago, it was found that by nudging the mass to be a little less, or a little more, or nudging to position of the superheavy object that created it, you could target distant parts of the universe. Soon, small spacecraft were being sent to distant stars. The scientists started it, of course. Shortly afterwards, the Callisto government began lobbying to make our little outpost the first official launch point for interstellar settlement.
That was forty years ago. And at this point, the five established settlements were fairly self sufficient- they just needed occasional contact and resupplies. Every week, a wormhole would be opened to one of the colonies. And every week, a freighter would be there to make the jump through, grab what supplies it needed, leave behind a new list of requests, and then disappear again until their specific colony was contacted again in another five weeks. And every week, I would be in this same bar to watch the fireworks.
My eyes narrowed as the perfect black circle reached its stable state. I watched these things every damn week. Part of me wants to say "blink and you'll miss it", but the truth is, at this point in the process, there's nothing to miss.
One moment, a featureless orb. The next moment, a deep space freighter. No flash. No gradual fade. No coming out of a tunnel. The hole was large enough for the entire mass of the ship to fit through at once, and the jump was seamless.
And to tell the truth... I didn't like it.
Humanity had reached and settled the furthest reaches of space, because of a magic substance that broke physics, stumbled upon by accident, in a random lab, by a some guy who was just trying to whip up a new element.
It was perfect. It was too perfect. And it bothered me.
And well, that's why I was here. I'd been visiting Callisto for years, and the pressure to make jumping more and more accessible to small spacecraft was insane. Pretty soon, everyone trying to engineer or maintain any kind of ship would need to have half of a quantum physics degree, and I wanted to be ahead of the curve. So when the launch point was made official, and they called for mechanics to service the ships that made the jumps to the colonies and back, I lept at the opportunity.
But the push was always for more applications, with little thought to the physics. More jumps, more colonies, more resupplies, more energy efficiency to increase the frequency at which it could be used. Some people were interested in the mechanics of the phenomena to exploit it further, sure, but most seemed to stonewall when you questioned too far. How the hell had this been missed? Why is everyone pushing for applications, and no one freaking out over how much this broke our understanding of the universe? Is it possible to measure the unit of time that the jump occurred in? Was it below detection limits? If it was, what did that mean?
And so, here I was. Sipping some herbal thing, staring at Jupiter, and thinking a little too hard about reality.
Eh, at least I could fix that last part.
"'scuse me bartender?" I asked. "Can I get another one of these, with an extra shot in it?"
He silently nodded, and poured me the synthetic gin mixed with... well, I didn't question it much. Anything to help keep these ideas in check.
The carbon fiber fingertips of my left hand gripped the glass with their usual calculated precision, while the skin of my right idly tapped the bar. I sighed.
Hey, I don't know if it's too much trouble, but I was wondering if you are planning on finishing 30 Cases, and if you aren't, what were your plans for it? I just really love this fic, especially the almost Outsider POV towards the Kaishin developing friendship. Some chapters still leave me laughing after many rereads, and the Kaishin development just kind of warms my heart :).
Hiya! It’s definitely not too much trouble right now!
So okay, 30 Cases is my first DC fic, the one that brought me some amazing friends, and is planned out to the very end. This is Fact! I am going to finish it. This is also FACT!!
That said, when I was working on 30 Cases some time ago (Nov 2015), I had been away from the characters for so long that I had a REALLY hard time writing the next chapters. So I’ll need to watch a few movies or read some of the manga again to get their muses back before I’ll be able to hammer out the chapters. With my mood, time, and energy fluctuating as they do, plus all the things I Need To Do To Adult And Friend Properly, I can give no estimate on when. :(
I swear I’d posted teasers or something on what was to come in 30 Cases, but I...can’t...find it?? I wonder if some of my posts on lj went missing hm. I’m probably just bad at tagging, go figure.
So I’ll share the THREE false starts I had to the next chapter, and the notes about it. *puts head in hands* So embarrassing lol, unfinished writing
Okay so I was going back in the revision history to remember which one I wrote first and all, and I found ANOTHER version I’d done first and deleted entirely. And like...it’s pretty good?? Almost good enough to be the next chapter???
I think what happened is that after writing it I decided the readers NEEDED or would WANT to see the talk with Akako (probably do lol), so I scrapped it to write that. That is the three false starts below. But re-reading it now, it really fits as a Conan&Ai chapter. I think I won’t share that bit just now, since I miiiight just make it the base for the real chapter. Anywho, enjoy my terrible writing below
Case 13 – Ai & Conan
Try 1 2
Ai watched Conan flop face down on the uncovered couch. With how often he'd been hiding out in the Kudou study, the dust covers were no longer needed on certain furniture pieces, though the entire house could still use a good scrubbing over. She picked her way over to an adjacent armchair and pulled herself into it with a sigh. The silence stretched between them, not strained, but filled with a thick sort of anticipation. She wasn't looking forward to trying to rationalize this to Conan, but that wouldn't hardly stop her. She was used to unpleasant tasks.
Yet…. She eyed the unmoving form critically. He had taken the meeting with Koizumi-san with more grace than she expected. Perhaps Hattori-kun had been more convincing than she'd believed he could be. Conan wasn't one to hide his disdain normally, but he was very good at hiding it from strangers, at this point. If that was the case, then about now he'd start in on her for the tasteless 'joke'.
Well, she certainly hadn't expected such an unusual...opportunity...to arise. Part of her wished that it had been the vain venture she'd expected when Hattori-kun had made the absurd proposition. It had certainly sounded ridiculous. She's only said yes on a whim; her frustration at her own lack of progress, coupled with the tiny possibility that a different viewpoint (even one as off the wall as a self styled witch) might bring a new angle to tackle the problem of the cure with.
Because despite the quick and neat job done with bringing about the final blow to the Organization, no sample of the Apotoxin or copy of her notes had been recovered. That disappointment had been a difficult (ha) pill to swallow. She'd always held out hope that she'd be able to reconstruct the volatile formula that had
Try 2 3
The Kudou household was dark and quiet. It was, Ai reflected, the perfect place for brooding, especially the vaulted library with the drawn curtains keeping the interior in a constant gloom and the thin layer of dust lending to the abandoned feeling. So it was really no surprise that it was Conan's destination of choice when he was feeling particularly melodramatic. She refrained from letting her exasperation get to her only by reminding herself that she'd been the one to bring them to the house in the first place.
Not that he'd reacted as she'd expected. When she'd asked Hattori-kun to convince him to meet with her and Koizumi-san, she hadn't held out much hope that the Osakan would dull the edge of Conan's disbelief. She'd relied on the fact that the request came from her that Conan would listen, coupled with Hattori-san's dogged determination to help his friend out whether he agreed or not. That, and his desperation to return to his old life.
Ai had expected Hattori-kun to come dragging a reluctant Conan by the scruff of his neck. Instead, Conan had arrived without fanfare, Hattori-kun trotting at his heels like a faithful puppy. She expected him to immediately demand explanations from her, loud in his disbelief and sarcastic as only he got when his views of the world were being challenged. He had merely greeted her, before turning to Koizumi-kun and studying her as closely as she was him.
When Ai had met Koizumi-san, she'd been expecting...well, someone older, to her chagrin. She of all people should have realized that apparent or actual age meant nothing. Not that she let it phase her. It would have made sense too if Koizumi-san was a witch in the more practical sense; a practitioner of rituals and old, herbal recipes. Ai had already exhausted what she could of that avenue in her search for the cure, but one never knew what hidden family secrets might be useful. So she'd been willing to listen.
Then Koizumi-san had taken one look at her and had said, "You are like him; all twisted up inside."
She had a look of interest on her face, her gaze seemingly to look right through Ai. It didn't feel anything like the dark and terrifying gaze of an Organization member, but there was still something dangerous in the air about her. That feeling was magnified when...something had tugged inside of her, and Ai hadn't been able to stop the gasp of surprise. Hattori-kun had reacted instantly, putting himself between Ai and the witch, one hand on Ai's arm. Immediately the sensation stopped, and Koizumi-san had given them both an amused smile.
Hattori-kun had been ready to grab her and make a break for it then and there, but Ai had swallowed the instinctive fear and stepped around him before he could move. That one moment had been enough to make her believe there was a chance, and she was willing to take it despite the danger. Conan had risked himself for her; for the cure, she would give up her worthless life for it in turn.
Her action had met with Koizumi-san approval, and the meeting had gone much more smoothly as they came to an understanding. Ai had kept a tight hold on her inner cynicism. She had made a decision, and no matter how outlandish Koizumi-san's ideas seemed, Ai had to trust that there were things in this world she couldn't explain. It was easier than having a meltdown over it, though now she could understand Hattori-kun's belligerent attitude.
There had been no need for such theatrics when Conan had confronted Koizumi-san.
It should be possible to release all that...potential. I cannot guarantee it won't be kill you
Try 3 4
Ai gave her companion a sideways look. "So glad you could join us," she said quietly, humor obvious in her voice. Conan gave her a dry look in return.
Across from them, Hattori-kun was currently engaged in a staring contest with Koizumi-san, as he had done every time he'd met the witch. She regarded him in amusement, but made no move to either stop him or encourage the attention. Ai didn't know what she was thinking, other than Koizumi-san liked games.
"Are you sure she can be trusted?" Conan asked, using their distraction to take time to study Koizumi-san. He had that look in his eyes, the focused awareness he used when working out a particularly difficult case or motive. There was none of the doubt that Ai had expected, no resistance or questions about their sanity, no comments about how crazy he thought they all were. That was more grace than she'd expected from him.
"I wouldn't have called you here if I thought it would kill you," she said, turning her attention to the papers stacked in her hands. She'd had them ready for what she'd thought would be inevitable demands for proof, but something had convinced Conan without her interference at all. Had Hattori-kun been that persuasive?
He didn't take his eyes off Koizumi-san as he replied, "That's not an answer." Hm, so perhaps someone else had tipped him off? Ai knew that Koizumi-san had an ulterior motive beyond the interest she had in an impossible reaction caused by science and not magic.
It was disheartening to know that Ai's biggest contribution to her field was a legacy of death. She'd never let it bother her overly much. If she dwelled on all the people she had inadvertently killed, well, she wouldn't be able to move forward. And she had no choice but to move forward. That was her penance, the price she paid for her sins. She'd been given a chance to try to make up for her mistakes in the form of a teenager turned child. Somehow he'd survived, and had given her the courage to escape or die on her own terms. Since then, he'd saved her over and over until he'd kept his promise to take down the Organization, to take that threat out of her life forever.
And she still couldn't keep her promise to him. Sleepless nights and endless days of research poured into the search for a cure, yet despite taking them out not one sample of the poison had been recovered. While much of the data had been saved from the attempts to destroy them, the science research had been one of the casualties of the final raids. So she was stuck with nothing to work from but the blood samples from herself and Conan, and the vague memories of too many possibilities and failures to sift through. There was no way she'd be able to find the cure. Not in time, at least.
If it had just been her, she'd never have bothered to look, either. Without her sister, there was nothing of her old life to return to. Shiho hadn't had any close friends, and she wanted Sherry to vanish completely. But Ai did have things to care about; she had a life to live, friends who would miss her if she left, and a sort of family in an eccentric old man and a dysfunctional teenager pretending to be a child. Things that were important to her. It was a feeling she'd never had the luxury to experience before, and she was loathed to give it up for anything.
Conan, however, did have things to return to. What bothered Ai was that he didn't seem to acknowledge what he'd be giving up. Too caught up in his own brilliance to acknowledge the other people in his life. That was one of his biggest flaws.
Koizumi-san turned her attention to Conan.
And the original notes for the chapter. gggg Ai was killing me, I could not cold-write her!
Ai, contemplating the Black Org, things that have happened, her talk with Heiji and subsequently Akako, and her decision on the future of Conan.
She already knows she will never be able to make the cure, not without the original formula, which was destroyed in the take down of the organization.
She’s willing to grasp at any straw, because of the guilt and her desire to see Shinichi happy, and because surprisingly Akako convinced her it was a good bet.
She finally tunes back in to Conan’s complaints about Heiji, stupid superstition, the ridiculousness of it all, and she of course was going to tell Heiji where to stick it. She answers quite calmly that yes, she’d like him to try. While he’s busy gaping, she continues a perusal of notes or somesuch she got from Akako (because magic aside, she wasn’t about to let anyone hurt Shinichi, so she /was/ going to understand every single step of the process, like any good scientist). When he finally sputters out a protest, she gets a bit annoyed, explaining this is the last chance, there is nothing else,
and if he /really/ wants to return to normal, he just has to trust her one more time.
He gives a quiet ascent after a moment’s thought, and she is once again torn at his baseless (to her) trust in her.
Sonic blew a gum bubble as he tried to concentrate on his studies. It was kinda hard though with his tutor/teacher hovering so close to him with her boobs just barely touching his face....
Ms.Rabbit, or Vanilla, was a nice woman. In more ways then one. She was sweet, kind and pateint... willing to help anyone who needed it. But she was also really hot with a nice figure, soft looking breasts and curvy.... She had some mom chub but that just made her look even better.
Ok so he may have a little bit of a problem.
Having her as a tutor was great but he also had this overwhelming need to touch. He had to remind himself over and over that she was his teacher. No fantasizing about the teacher....
“Sonic sweety, you’re zoning out again,” her voice was like honey... “Come on it’s not that hard is it?”
Sonic cleared his throat then shook his head. “No no, sorry i get distracted really easily” he said with a light laugh. This actually really was pretty simple compared to other things he’s been having trouble with.
Vanilla giggled. “Sonic did you really need me to help you with this?”
Sonic pouted, “Of course....” Then he took a moment and stuck his tongue out. “Ok no not really. I just like being around you is all,” he blushed a little
“Oh i wonder why~” Vanilla tapped on his head. “You’re a sweet kid Sonic. If only it were that easy to find men like you,” she commented suddenly with a sigh
Sonic looked up at her confused. “What do you mean? You could get any guy you want couldn’t you?”
“Hm, well it’s not just a matter of getting the guy.... I want to feel comfortable around them too,” she said entwining her hands together. “Most of them tend to look at me and i can see the lust. It’s creepy. And besides i have tried to look past it and what it got me is a little baby girl and no one to help me raise her”
Sonic frowned.
“Don’t get me wrong, i love my little Cream... I just never thought i’d have her the way i did. I always said i won’t have any children without both parents in the picture. I thought he would’ve been a great dad. But as soon as i gave him the news i never heard or saw him again,” Vanilla sighed. “So i am a little wary but at the same time i just want... at least one great night... I haven’t really been able to go wild in years and now that my daughter is on her own... Ah i’m not making much sense am i? I want to go wild but i also don’t” she laughed at herself
Sonic tilted his head then put a hand on hers. “It’s ok to want to be with someone you feel comfortable around... Even if it is just a one night stand, it’ll be with someone you know won’t try to hurt you or something and that’s ok to want Ms. Rabbit”
Vanilla smiled at Sonic. “You can call me Vanilla outside of the classroom Sonic... Yes, that’s what i would like. Someone i don’t need to get attached to but i still know well enough to have some fun with...” she turned away for a moment then glanced back at Sonic with a light pink blush before putting a hand on his thigh. “Looks like the student is the teacher for today,” she giggled.
Sonic blushed as well and put one hand on hers while the other rubbed at the back of his head. “I wouldn’t say that Vanilla... I just say it the way i see it”
Vanilla really enjoyed being in Sonic’s company. The college student just had that calming air about him... Vanilla found herself leaning on his shoulder and just enjoying the close contact.
Sonic blushed and looked at her, ears folded backwards. “Vanilla?...”
“Hm?” They stared at each other for a while before she felt his hand on her cheek. They were really close... All they had to do was close the gap. Vanilla closed her eyes and pushed away the negative thoughts as she pushed herself forward and connected their lips.
Sonic didn’t expect her to be the one to close the gap but he still gladly kissed back and made out with her. Vanilla wrapped her arms around Sonic as they kissed, their tongues pressing against each other and entwining together.
Sonic let out a light moan and placed his hands on her waist before Vanilla pulled away and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Oh my...”
“Mmm... /////”
“You’re a good kisser Sonic...”
“Heh, Thanks....”
It was quiet for a few moments before Vanilla spoke up.
“Would you like to continue this at my place?...”
Of course, Sonic’s first thought was sex. But as Vanilla was closing up Sonic’s notes and school books he thought for a moment that maybe she was talking about the tutoring. But then he felt a tender touch on his thigh and slide up just enough that he was 100% sure he knew what she was talking about now.
“I’d love to Vanilla”
It took Sonic a moment to realize that the frisky rabbit stole his gum
Sonic and vanilla were making out on her bed, completely naked and feeling each other up. Sonic broke the kiss then started licking at her nipples as he massaged her breasts.
Vanilla churred and rubbed at his ear while a hand stroked at his hardening cock. “Mmm firm and warm~”
There is a mandate, several mandates in fact, on what certain people want and like. One in particular is “The 20 things men like about women”. Our man does not follow the prescriptive rules. He likes/wants other stuff. He rebels, at first quietly – squirming uncomfortably when a girl does something he supposedly likes. Then not so quietly – he does what he likes even though he has not been officially mandated to like it.
His mother will have none of this. She marches down the street to him where she knows he is engaging in unsanctioned behaviour. She grabs his arm, pulling him towards the house where a mandated girl he likes awaits, he resists. She tells him “but this is what boys like. You will like it.” He tell her “but no, I don’t want to”. He continues resisting, trying to drag himself and his mother in the opposite direction, “ I like this. Not some prescribed, factory setting person.”
