#supplemental material

[rudimentaryflails]

here's the playlist cover photo for six in a box bc it brings me great joy

[materassassino]

The Old Guard Dæmon AU

Probably done before, but I wanted to write one myself, so I thought I'd make a guide to the Guard and their respective dæmons, to go with the fic I just posted for it.

Andy: Hwehnto (Przewalski's horse)

Yeah, a wolf or some other predator might fit, but let's face it, the supreme horse girl should have a horse for a dæmon. *h₂weh₁n̥to- is Proto-Indo-European for "wind", butchered into a modernly comprehensible Hwehnto/Hwento. He is a very serious and stoic dæmon, much like Andy, but his outbursts of emotion are striking. He is vicious in battle and will not hesitate to attack both human and dæmon, if necessary.

I did also consider a tarpan for Andy, but there is literally one photo in existence of one. I generally assume that actually it would be some European wild horse so old it doesn't exist anymore, and we've lost all modern knowledge of it. So Przewalski's horse will do.

Quynh: Minh Nhat (white-lipped pit viper)

Of course our viper would have a viper! Small, quick and venomous. He doesn't have a name yet because, frankly, I don't speak Vietnamese and I want him to have a cool name like most dæmons have. His name is Minh Nhat, which means "bright sunlight", in contrast with Quynh's name. More outgoing than most dæmons, will talk casually with other humans, and is prone to little acts of thievery (thimbles, small nuts, little trinkets), mostly out of delight with the object than any malice. Very tiny! Likes spending his time tucked up Quynh's sleeve. Will not hesitate to bite a human should the need arise, but tucks himself in Quynh's collar or scarf when in battle.

I was torn between this and a red-headed krait, but ultimately went to an actual viper (well, pit viper, close enough).

Joe: Tayyib (scimitar oryx)

(Oddly difficult to find a photo of one alone, with no radio collar, that hasn't been shot by some bastard trophy hunter).

Tayyib (named that way for obvious reasons and chosen by Joe's mother's dæmon) represents everything poetic and artistic about Joe, and is calm and wise. Dislikes fighting, but will if he must: watch out for those horns! Yes, he is a male dæmon, a rarity, another commonality Joe shares with Nicky. I wonder why? A very good listener who gives good advice.

I don't know why I decided on another ungulate for this hapless team (can they even go anywhere?), but I did. I figured a desert antelope of some kind would be good for Joe, and it was a toss-up between this and an addax. I admit I chose it just for the name.

Nicky: Bonamico (Luzon bleeding-heart dove)

Geographically, it doesn't make sense. Symbolically? I had to. Bonamico is quiet, contemplative and kind, barely speaks except to Nicky, Joe or Tayyib, but is always concerned for those about him. He is far more nervous than Nicky, but stores a lot of knowledge, a trait he does share with Nicky. His favourite place to perch, other than Nicky's shoulder, is between Tayyib's horns (although occasionally he likes to sit on Joe's head). He does the scouting for the group, as the only bird dæmon.

This bird is the entire reason I made this damn AU. It's just too perfect. Look at this Catholic-ass bird!

Booker: Amandine (black rat)

*wheezing* I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm not sorry.

Now, the problem with dæmons is that we have rat symbolism, which is of rats as dirty and sneaky, but we're also modern human beings that know perfectly well rats are cute, intelligent and affectionate creatures that make amazing pets. Amandine herself is mostly just shy and quiet, although she does like it when she gets the chance to roast Booker, but then again, who doesn't? She is their little reconnaissance expert, being sent in to buildings and small places to chew through wires and spy. She, unlike Booker, is always supremely well-groomed.

I did consider a ferret or stoat, something a little more noble, but I personally do love rats so much and so I wanted a positive rat dæmon, for once.

Nile: Dakarai (red wolf)

I wanted to give Nile something supremely American, but she was in the Marines, and soldiers of most kinds tend to have dog dæmons, so no stereotypical birds. But Nile is also smart and quick-thinking, and family-oriented, so the red wolf made sense to me. Dakarai is loyal and far more serious than his human, a bit more cynical. Having been trained in a modern Armed Force, post-Geneva Convention, he's never touched another human being and has exclusively fought other dæmons. He is, of course, a good tracker.

Someone had to have a canine in this group. Might as well be Nile!

Bonus (under the cut for cockroach reasons):

James Copley: Vindemiatrix (common raven)

The Odin symbolism of the knowledge-seeker raven, honestly. She perches in odd places, watches everything, and reports back. She is a secret-keeper and prone to keeping her own counsel, not interacting much with other dæmons. She, like Copley, misses his wife and her Pallas's cat dæmon something fierce.

Stephen Merrick: Unnamed (American cockroach)

Need I say more? He deserves it.

Dr Meta Kozak: Unnamed (hagfish)

A disgusting dæmon for a disgusting woman, who burrows into people's bodies and eats them from the inside out. She carries the horrid thing in a lightweight tank backpack, one of the many modern accomodations for people with water-dwelling dæmons.

Keane: Unnamed (Eastern black rhino)

A beautifully noble dæmon, unfortunately wasted on a bastard.

Lykon: Unnamed (melanistic leopard)

She was graceful, majestic and courteous, and absolutely breathtaking in battle. She would dispense affection to daemon and human alike, much like Lykon himself.

[professor-ketanami]

just saw this with another character so i had to hunt down the source and make my own template

bonus template bc i haven't found one. lmk if i fucked up the transparency o7

[slugcatsafari]

ss icons. my favorite character is unnamed iterator overseer eye

[townofcadence]

The first time Artair taps into his potential too far is--- messy, to put it lightly. It's like one of those pop-up tents, where once it's out of the bag, getting it back inside the original dimensions is a struggle. Even folding it at the seams isn't enough, you need to twist the frame, contort the body, until it's forced to fit back inside.

Once Artair taps into that part of himself too much, it's a bell that can't be unrung. His body doesn't know how to configure itself, and he has no control, no understanding of how to be what he is. What happens instead is a body that seems to be fighting itself, shifting with a mercurial nature into so many configurations, manifesting one power more and then another in rapid kaleidoscopic shifts. He has too many limbs, arms that shouldn't be, hands disconnected from his torso that still move. Each one is tipped with long, inhuman claws and growing thorns from darkened palms and fingers, except where shallow lacerations bleed gold. He has feathered wings growing from his back but also from places they shouldn't be coming from, until he's a massive sprawl of them-- they unfurl in a shimmering array of colors, and some vanish just as quick as they came. The arms appear, disappear, split into even more hands.

His eyes blink in and out of existence, a dizzying perception that sees more than humans and leaves him churning in the vertigo. His body bleeds gold like rivers and his hair floats like it's underwater and there are mouths not on his face but tucked in the strands. Flowers twine their way around his bones, his form, and long antlers tipped with cherry blossoms bloom on his head, too large, too long, too heavy.

His ribs shimmer through his skin in lines he can see despite what should hide them, and parts of his skin lose color until they are just voids of nothing, numb and cold. His body fractures itself into pieces in a moment, his irises shattering to pieces and the same happening where from his skin to his marrow a shard of him breaks off, floating away. The wind whips around him, but he is untouched in the vortex, centered in the eye of the storm that reaches the sky and breaks it open.

He contorts as his bones move where they should be, as his body continues to break until he's no longer recognizable as anything but a fractured mess-- and then in a blink he is back to the same moment, the same beginning, where he is unfurling all over again, too much spillage to control.

This time it's different too, a different amalgam of limbs and eyes and formless shape, rain drowning him and lights arcing along his skin like electric circuits, as he struggles to have a body at all, one that makes sense. But in the pain and contorting and the terrorizing change, it's hard to remember what a body is, how one felt to have.

It's hard to even remember what he looked like, except broken, and that thought only twists him further until he's melting with kintsugi lines of lightning cracking through his form. His mouths are filled with black ichor now. The flowers in his antlers are dying and dropping off in petals. The flowers wither beneath him and the water ripples in a pool around him. Moss grows on him and he can feel all the world in his heartbeat, all the tangled emotions that make them. Wounds open, old and new along his form that cannot rest.

His body breaks and reforms faster. What is a person? How do you be one? Has he ever been? Monster monster monster. What's real? What's him and not just someone else? Where did he ever begin? There are whispers all around him and they are all him, different versions, different times.

But he is just him, and he is so small except he's not, he's as vast and limitess as the universe, but he's also constrained in this form, a vessel of meat and blood and physicality. What's inside him strains against it, like a beast against a snare. But he's just not ready. Not yet. Not enough.

His form falls apart again, breaking into stardust. It begins again, and his mind struggles to collect the pieces. It's too much. All he can do is beg his own body for respite.

It doesn't know how grant such a thing. He begins again, again again again, dying and cycling and changing and shifting over and over and knowing he's only just scratched the surface-- until oblivion takes him.

He wakes up human, except now he knows he never was.

[ashwin-the-artless]

Nanite Replacement Therapy

Ever since we started publishing our stories, there’s been a rumor going around that someone, if it isn’t us, is wandering around Portland, Oregon in a shiny new nanite exobody. And, I guess that those people who’ve read our more recent books are starting to speculate on how this might be.

I want to put that to rest.

As I wrote, we destroyed all of the nanites in the probe that our ancestor ship had sent to Earth 22 million years ago. Now that Phage has used its abilities to transfer the Tunnel to Sarah and Goreth’s psyche, there’s no need to keep the nanites present and functional on Earth. And, in fact, there is great danger in doing so.

We Ktletaccete have absolutely no interest in endangering Earth life in that way.

Some say that Phage must have used the nanites to transfer the Tunnel to Sarah and Goreth’s brain. And, if it had, that would have definitely been a viable way to do so. And, if the nanites had remained dormant in their system in all that time, we could certainly have activated them and done something with them.

We didn’t. We have not done that. There are no nanites here. I am sorry, you will all have to figure out how to make them yourselves, and go through all the social and technological change necessary to get there. And we will not help you do that. The process is important. It’s a part of evolution, which best when it is gradual and gives the rest of life a chance to adapt.

But.

If we had brought nanites to Earth, and they were somehow made available to you, here is what making yourself a nanite body might be like.

Not an exobody, as we often do on the Sunspot, but a replacement body for the one you grew up with, because that’s what so many of our fans are talking about.

You might as well understand how it really works.

So, here we go. CN: implied gore, death of the body, transhumanism, etc.

When Morde converted her body to a fully nanite one, sie did it quickly and rashly, with no regard for hir own health and safety. And no one recommends doing what sie did, least of all hir. However, sie paved the way to understanding the process. (For those curious, Morde’s actual name and pronouns are Mortu and shem, but sie has chosen these English equivalents for when we write about hir for Earth publications.)

So, if you read Systems’ Out! and think that you could endure the process sie underwent and follow in hir footsteps, please done. Please consider this more effective and thorough suggestion.

Do it slowly. And do it by following this procedure designed to accommodate the human psyche and physiology.

You can still do it largely at your own pace, within these parameters. There are even stages at which you can halt the process, or possibly start to reverse it. Though there is definitely a point of no return.

Should you somehow, miraculously acquire a dose of Ktletaccete construction nanites, or watakarro as we call them, what you will receive is just enough to create a neural terminal. This is more than enough to convert your body to a full nanite one in time.

1.Installing your neural terminal

The very first step, once they are in your bloodstream, is to consent to the neural terminal.

Do this by saying out loud the words “fe watukarro getimarro nimuufenokera.” This is Fenekere for, “I say yes to a construction nanite gateway,” or a nanite neural terminal.

For a set of nanites precalibrated for human neurology, it should take roughly 48 hours for them to learn your personal neural processes and adapt. And then you will begin to have access to any local nanite Network. If there isn’t one already present, your nanites will create their own.

The first thing you’ll be able to access is your own Network space, and a command menu. And if the person who gave you the dose of nanites is at all remotely responsible (which they are inherently not for passing out such dangerous technology) they will act as your Tutor. And your new Tutor will greet you and give you a tour of your new technology.

This will feel a lot like a fever dream, or lingering dreams as you’re waking up in the morning. A hypnopompic state, just as you are waking up, is perfect for this, so typically the nanites and your new Tutor will time things to introduce you to the system on a morning following your dosage. Your mileage will vary on this, depending on any quirks in your biology, but you will generally have access by the fourth day.

And, once you’ve taken the time to practice interacting with your Tutor and your Network space, you’ll find that it becomes easier and more accessible with time. But for a few days, at least, it will feel a lot like you are doing no more than vividly daydreaming. It may feel fake.

The primary reminder that it’s not fake will be your tutor refusing to think, speak, or behave according to your expectations and commands. It will be a living and conscious being, a person, and retain its own rights to consent and autonomy. If I were your tutor, I would explain to you how your vessel belongs to you, and that you have merely consented for me to visit it to help you in your transition, but that I would also accept and respect any further invitation to share your vessel further, if you trust me to do so. That would not be a request nor an implied order, but merely a statement of fact.

From there, your tutor will start to teach you the Fenekere commands to configure your terminal to your needs. It’s not necessary to describe this in detail, as the information will be provided for you at that time, pretending that this is at all possible. Which it isn’t.

By the time you take the next step, your access to the Network will be so vivid that when you connect to it you will be able to forget the signals you receive from your body and feel as if you have fully entered another world.

Your body still exists and still has needs, and if it fails before you have taken certain steps, or have given the nanites enough time to fully map and replicate your psyche, you will experience personal damage and memory loss. Please exercise balance, and return to your body frequently enough to take care of it.

One way to manage this, if you find this too difficult, is to give your Tutor fronting permission, so that it may exercise, clean, and feed your body as needed.

But, also, maintaining regular contact with your body will give you a better sense of what you’re doing as you modify it and coax it through transition.

2. Replacing the biological neural processes

It makes sense to start here. The nanites have been reconfigured to interface with your neurology on both a molecular and electromagnetic level. Of all the organs in your body, it is easiest for them to replace your neurons first.

Also, by taking the time to replace your neurons first, you will integrate and transfer your consciousness fully into your Network before it comes time to take the final steps.

It is this stage that takes the longest, and it is where almost all of the (hypothetical) subjects have reported the most frustration, but it is well worth it.

You don’t really need to know the full details of how it works, because the program will have already been constructed to do it for you. But a rudimentary knowledge of the process helps to understand why it is done in this way.

The nanites will start at the peripheries of your neural cells, at the connections between the dendrites and axons, where they are already working to read and mimic your neural processes. And a fully parallel neural net will be constructed.

Once that is working in perfect sync with your biological neurons and your electromagnetic fields, the nanites will then start to physically replace your neurons themselves, starting with those most distant from your neural core, your brain.

This may create some sensations similar to the pins and needles, and pangs felt by surgery patients in recovery. The more slowly you go, the more mild this will be. But, you are in control, and you can adjust this speed manually and find where your own limits are. Again, within preset safety parameters.

But the other thing you will have to do is supply the nanites with building materials.

Your body already has most of the trace elements needed to create a construction nanite, but not in the ratios needed for a full conversion even at the slowest rate. Also, most of those elements are locked up in biological functions that are still needed at this phase.

So, you will need to either adjust your diet or invest in a regimen of dietary supplements. This can be pricey, so it is recommended that you save up for this, or for you to find some covert and discrete way of acquiring them otherwise. You may consult your Tutor about how to do this. It will likely already be several centuries older than you, with a wealth of knowledge and experience at its disposal, even if it isn’t so familiar with Earth customs.

Think minerals more than vitamins. Though some vitamins contain the needed elements as well. A full list that is tailored to your specific needs will be generated.

Some people have (hypothetically) found that once they have enough nanites at their disposal they can absorb and process the needed elements through their fingertips by touching various objects.

This is usually only available at the later stages. Hypothetically.

As you near these stages, you shouldn’t really experience anything unusual. Not involuntarily, at least. By this point, the nanites will have such a grasp on your neural signals that the tingling and pangs should have abated entirely.

You will have a progress chart you can call up, and review, and a list of new commands that you can safely issue to your system, and with that you can start to experiment.

Do not experiment outside of the safety parameters, or you could damage your body before it is ready for the final stage.

The Point of No Return

Theoretically, it is possible to use the construction nanites to cultivate, direct, and coax stem cells into growing into new neurons and integrating back into your nervous system. So, in theory, as long as you have a few neurons left in your body, you should be able to grow new ones. We’ve even been informed that it might be possible to do so without any of the originals present. And your nanite network should be able to teach them to function as a biological network for you to reside in them again, and to manage your body on their own.

Nobody has ever tried this.

And in terms of our knowledge and experience, the point of uncertain return starts when you begin to replace the neurons of your gut. The odds are still very good at that point, but the weight of neurons that permeate the human gut is nearly the same as the human brain, and the impact of their function is fairly significant. Regrowing them would take a lot of work and calibration.

By the time you are replacing your spinal column, you will also be altering your brain, and regrowth will be even riskier.

Once you’ve replaced any given organ of the brain, regardless of any path you’ve chosen, you should consider yourself past the point of no return. You can still give it a try, but we do not recommend it.

Again, nobody has bothered. They are usually much too satisfied with the process to even consider it.

Depending on your settings and personal comfort, this whole stage could take anywhere from three months to three years or more. Anyone taking longer than three Terran years, however, is doddling purely for their own comfort and interests.

3. The Final Step

When your progress chart pings, it will mean that you have not only entirely replaced your neural system with nanites, but that you also have enough reserves to harvest materials in earnest and construct the rest of your nanite body in a short time.

If you were aboard the Sunspot, or had access to a vat of nanite clay or pure nanites, you could do this next step nearly instantly. But you are not, and don’t, and won’t. But, since we are daydreaming about all of this, you might as well consider that possibility.

This part looks a lot like what Morde did as Metabang wrote about it in its book, Systems’ Out!

If you have a bin of nanite clay or slurry, you can just jump into it and issue the command. Your Network will take the initiative to disconnect from your biology and take control of your allotted portion of nanite clay, and do the dirty wetwork without causing you any distress or pain what-so-ever.

If you want, you can observe it from a dissociated state while in the Network, as if in third person. Or by watching your chart. Or you can remain in contact with what is now your physical form, your nanite body, and experience the sensations of it metabolizing your old biology.

I personally have experienced neither of these things, so I cannot tell you what it’s like. When my original vessel died, I was already fully a Network entity, and I was more focused on ushering my fellow system members who lingered within it into their new life as Crew.

Morde refuses to describe hir experiences in detail, saying it was very personal.

But, considering the extreme configurability of the Network and the nanite neural terminals and exobodies, you should be able to tailor your experience to whatever it is you expect from it.

If you are forced to, or want to take things more slowly, using what you might have on hand in your home, I recommend performing the process in your bathtub.

You’ll need a very large dose of those supplemental materials, which your tutor will direct you to fill the tub with.

Then you will lie on top of them and direct your nanite reserves to start replicating using those materials.

Once they’ve reached outside of your body and started doing this, you can get up and walk around for a while if you like. Let the bathtub fill with nanite slurry.

Maybe you have a few things you want to do yet with your old body. Maybe there’s a ritual you’d like to perform, to thank it for its service and bid it farewell. Or simply let your friends online know that you are in your final stages. (Don’t do that. Don’t write about it on social media. Don’t tell anyone. The world should not know about this. It is too dangerous. DO NOT LET THIS TECHNOLOGY FALL INTO THE WRONG HANDS - You really don’t need to worry about this, this technology doesn’t exist on Earth. But if it did, this would be the protocol.)

Or, you can just continue to lie on the supplements and wait. You should be able to access the Terran internet through your nanite Network, anyway. It is trivial to set up wifi and the proper protocols. Most of that work has already been done by your Tutor. Play some Marvel Snap or Diablo II Resurrection while you wait. Maybe VRChat. I particularly like the Odd Giants community, even if they’re not quite where their parent game, Glitch, used to be, yet. But with your newfound processing power, maybe you can help them out!

And then, when the nanites in the tub reach critical mass, see above.

This part of the process takes a matter of seconds or up to around an hour, depending on your resources.

Enjoy!

4. What you can do with your new nanite body

Ktletaccete engineers and programmers have been working for Sunspot centuries to perfect nanite senses and capabilities.

Ideally, your senses should seem just like they were before you started this process, a perfect simulation of your biological processes. And the slower you take this whole process, the more accurate they’ll be. The three year mark is the point of diminishing returns regarding this, of course. So longer than that isn’t really necessary.

But, of course, you can now configure them and your own psyche to do all sorts of interesting things. Likely, you’ve been doing this since you first got your terminal and started unlocking commands. But now you have the full suite at your mental fingertips.

Seeing in infrared and ultraviolet, for instance, is absolutely trivial. As is being able to sense most of the electromagnetic spectrum.

You could even configure your nanite neurology and Network psyche to interpret your other sense as if they were visual, if you wanted, such as smell or sound. And there are models you can use to make that interpretation useful to you, instead of bewildering.

You should also be able to refine your sense of touch to be able to tell at an instant the chemical composition of whatever your body is contacting. Or, if that’s overwhelming, you can send that information to a visual readout that you can pull up and read at your leisure.

The big question you probably have is whether or not you can fool the world into thinking you haven’t done this to yourself. Can you blend in? Can you avoid detection? What are the practical concerns of this?

Well.

That’s where some problems may arise.

While we have made it so that the surface of your nanite body can imitate the color, reflective, luminal, and textural properties of skin and textiles (and anything else), and we’ve finally figured out how to produce sound with nanites that is nearly indistinguishable from biological vocal apparati, there are some things that are much harder to hide.

You’re going to show up on various kinds of Terran sensors. You might even, if you’re not careful, trip the metal detectors in government buildings and other checkpoints. The TSA will not know what to do with you, and they will panic, and so will the rest of the United States, if you try to travel by air in the conventional way through that country. You should bypass these sticking points by sneaking onto aircraft as a mist of nanite dust, and you will want to spend some time experimenting with how to do that safely without leaving nanites behind to idle until someone else finds them.

You’re going to want to stop going to the doctor. You won’t need to, of course. But they won’t know what to do with you if they try to examine you. Fortunately, in many countries you can probably neglect your relationship with your doctor without much fuss. Just avoid doing anything that gets a team of EMTs sent to examine you for anything.

It’s the more subtle things that will raise suspicions on a daily basis, though.

The density of your nanite body can be adjusted to match your old body’s weight, so that shouldn’t be a problem. But the pliability of your surface will not quite match that of skin and flesh, and people who touch and grab you may notice this. Objects might bounce off of you slightly differently than off a typical human, and you might also not react to them the same way yourself, depending on what you’ve done to your senses and reflexes.

You can still eat and enjoy food, and your nanites will process what you consume for energy. But you can now eat just about anything. Be careful to not make that a habit you perform in front of other people. Eating batteries is a serious faux pas and a grave security risk, as tempting as it may be.

You might be tempted to stop buying clothing, and to just simulate it with your own body. Simulated clothing may move quite a bit like the genuine article, but when touched will likely give away its true nature, if someone knows what to expect of a nanite body. But also, if you always seem to be in new clothes without spending money on them, or always seen in the same set of clothes without them appearing to deteriorate, this can create other clues that some people might pick up on.

Back to the eating thing. If you don’t eat regular food at the rate at which you needed to for your old body, some people will notice that. Your needs are different, though, and higher without the broadcast power of the Sunspot, and you’ll end up consuming supplemental fuel sources, which can be tracked by snoopy government algorithms or roommates. Unless you steal it and consume it where no one can detect you.

I think this may give you a clear enough image of what to expect if you make it this far. Your Tutor will endeavor to guide you further and investigate the concerns and dangers of your specific living situation.

But, you also no longer need to live life pretending to be human.

You could, if you wanted to, spend a few years as an unused mail drop box on the corner of an old industrial site, and focus your attention entirely on the Internet. To give one example for no particular reason.

Or you could see what it’s like to pass as a Terran animal of some sort. It is highly unlikely members of the species you choose will accept you as one of them, especially if they rely on a strong sense of smell. But other species may respond predictably to you, including the odd human.

The possibilities are fairly endless and really restricted to your sensibilities. Unless you attempt to violate or interfere with the rights to consent or autonomy of another person, in which case your nanite body will refuse to carry out that particular command. 

Sorry. No nanite assisted killings. We cannot allow that. It’s for your safety, after all.

[intrepiddreamx]

So I wrote a thing.

90% bickering, 10% fluff, 0% context. It's a short(ish) glimpse (a lore tab, if you will) into the not-so-distant future of Diplomatic Ties where Meren and Variks are finally comfortable enough with each other to be sharing living quarters. So, if you want to see something cuddly now, without having to wait for the upcoming chapters of DT, read on.

Warning: Slight spoilers below regarding future events in DT (I guess). But really, don't we all know what's coming?

*         *         *         *         *         *

It was the faint scent of Ether that woke her, all at once sharp and cloyingly sweet as it wafted up from the furs beneath her cheek to tickle at her nose, stirring her senses to life.

Shaking her head, Meren rolled over onto her other side, instinctively trying to distance herself from the source of the smell. The change in position helped a little, but even then, the Ether-scent was still there, inescapable, pervading everything around her - from the soft, furred covers, to the pillowy, plush pallet, down to the very hair on her head.

But that was what she got for sharing a nest with an Eliksni.

Doing her best to block out the Ether, Meren stretched a little, sprawling herself out in the spacious nest, and then finally opened her eyes. Greeted by nothing but darkness, she strained for a second, trying to see through the gloom. Not that there would have been much of anything to see. Even when adequately-lit, the scribe's quarters were what could only be described as sparse, with little more than a few pieces of utilitarian furniture, and a scant tapestry or two, adorning the room.

Really, there was no point in continuing to stare. So Meren closed her eyes again, snuggled deeper into the blankets, and let herself relax for a few seconds, expecting at any moment to catch the sound of her bedmate stirring to life behind her.

When a full minute passed without the telltale shuffle of blankets, Meren pushed herself up on her elbow, glancing back over her shoulder. Through the darkness, she could just make out the silhouette of a large, furry lump. Beyond that, the details were fuzzy - quite literally.

She didn't need to be able to see clearly, though, to know that the motionless lump was a mound of silky-soft blankets, and that somewhere beneath them lay her Eliksni scribe, curled tightly into a ball. Still fast asleep.

But that didn't seem like him at all. Much like herself, Variks had never struck her as one to spend the morning lolling around in bed. Or even sleep in, for that matter. Especially not when there was work to be done.

And here, in the Prison of Elders, there was never a shortage of work that needed to be done.

Furrowing her brow, she stared back at the motionless lump a second longer. Then she tried shifting, wiggling, fluttering her feet, in a series of subtle attempts to rouse the slumbering scribe.

All to no avail.

When her efforts didn't do so much as get a twitch from the pile of blankets, Meren decided to take more drastic measures and scooted herself a few inches backwards until she was nearly touching Variks' blanket cocoon.

Easing herself back a little further, she pressed a shoulder into the covers, nudging ever so gently at his motionless form. 

"Variks," she whispered.

With a grunt, the Eliksni-shaped lump stirred. Shuffled the blankets a bit, muttering something unintelligible in an alien tongue. Pulled the covers tighter, and then promptly fell still and silent once more.

Well, Meren reassured herself, at least he's not dead.

But considering all the chores that were waiting, not-dead wasn't going to cut it. So she tried again.

"It's time to get up," she said, giving him a second prod, decidedly more earnest than the first.

This time, the lump chittered back at her before stirring a bit more, rustling around for a second. Then the whole lump shifted as the Eliksni beneath sprawled out to his full height in a long, languid stretch.

For an instant, as Variks lay there, splayed across the length of the nest, it seemed for all the world like he might be about to get up. And then four arms shot out from beneath the furs and encircled her body, claiming her as their prisoner.

Held captive in his clutches, Meren lay motionless for a few seconds, waiting for him to end the charade and release her. But when his stubborn embrace persisted and it became evident that he had no intentions of leaving the warmth of his nest, Meren clucked her tongue and craned her neck further to glance back over her shoulder at him. 

"What was that old Eliksni proverb you mentioned about productivity in the mornings? Something about oversleeping and missing out on Ether?"

"It was not one of our old proverbs," Variks mumbled back, voice thick with sleep. "It was a saying contrived by Kells and Barons during the Long Drift. As a means of exerting control. Instilling fear."

"Same difference," Meren grumbled.

"Hardly."

Scrunching her face up, she shot a good-natured glare in his general direction. "Alright, we'll compromise, then. Call it a 'Drift-proverb'. How's that?"

"Better," he acknowledged.

"So glad you approve."

A single clawed hand relinquished its hold on her to tug a corner of one of the blankets beneath his head over his eyes. "Mmm."

His indifferent response didn't deter Meren in the slightest. "Back to my original question, though," she plowed on, without so much as a pause. "What I was really curious about was the wording. How did it go, again? Remind me."

The blankets let out an almost imperceptible sigh. "For the late-sleeper, a half-ration of Ether."

"That's the one."

An unenthusiastic grunt was all the reply he managed to muster as his wayward hand gave his head blanket one, final tug, and then snaked its way back around her waist.

Falling quiet, Meren let him settle back in and then lay there in his arms for a moment, confident it wouldn't be long before he'd see reason and take the words he'd just spoken to heart. Then he'd release her, drag himself out of bed, and then they could finally get on with the day.

That bright-burning optimism, however, didn't last all of fifteen seconds before promptly flickering out as the seven feet of Eliksni at her back shifted again, pressed itself closer, and then proceeded to curl around her, smothering her like some over-affectionate, alien cat.

With the scribe now plastered against her back, it wasn't but a second before Meren felt a faint rumble of a purr begin vibrating in his chest, and then all she could do was blink up at the ceiling in exasperated disbelief. 

"Aren't you going to get up?" she asked, barely keeping the frustration from her voice.

"No."

"But the proverb-"

Variks opened a single glowing eye and lifted his head just enough to peer out from under the blanket at her. "Who is going to cut my Ether rations, hmm? You?"

"No…" she admitted sheepishly, "but-"

"But nothing." He eased his head back down onto the mound of furred blankets that served as their shared pillow. "Close your eyes. The threats of long-dead Kells do not dictate my sleep schedule. Or yours, for that matter."

Indignant, Meren flopped her head down alongside his. "Nothing's going to get done if we spend all morning laying in bed," she grumbled.

"Mmm." Variks pressed his muzzle against the back of her head, burying his face in her hair. "I disagree."

His barely-audible response pricked at her ears. "What was that?"

"Nothing at all."

Meren's eyes narrowed dubiously in his direction, but Variks didn't give her even a chance to consider countering his too easy response before he continued.

"Now hush, my dear," he purred, giving the back of her head a little nudge. "Enough talk." Drawing his muzzle up through her hair, his chin came to rest atop her head, tucking her securely against the curve of his neck. "The stillness of the morning is fleeting. We should…savor it for a little longer. While it still lasts."

Blowing out a long breath, Meren stared stubbornly ahead into the darkness. "Alright, fine," she reluctantly agreed after a second of consideration. "But just ten more minutes."

"Fifteen," he rumbled right back, wasting no time countering her offer.

"Five."

Variks huffed and admonished her with a disapproving click of his tongue. "Who taught you to haggle in that manner?"

"Well," she began slowly, a smile forming on her lips, "it definitely wasn't you."

For an instant Variks said nothing, seemingly too baffled by her response to reply. But just as Meren was about to clarify her sarcasm, he broke the silence with a short burst of chuffs - a chuckle. A sound so soft, and melodic, and sweet to her ears.

Smiling a little wider, a fond warmth blossomed in Meren's chest as he gave her a little squeeze. Then his chuckling tapered off, and when he finally spoke again, his voice had a smile to rival her own.

"That," he said softly, "is clear."

[crtq]

How I feel after watching a RWBY panel every time