@axisbound.bsky.social Now don't you look well? Such an... Interesting transformation.

Mm. Good work, Juno. How's our captain faring?

What the ____ is a worm girl

She puts the knife through back @axisbound.bsky.social. Like she slipped. She just steps forward, the blade sinks in, it doesn't even make a sound.

What if this is still just part of it?

be right there. don't touch it.

loud and clear. no signs of anything hostile on board, that's a plus. radiation is minimal. strong sense of deju vu.

bumpier than i recall...

what are you looking at?

pre war.

do you read me? @axisbound.bsky.social

Wake up.

such an interesting crew dynamic.

well this is nice.

how about something classical?

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝐒.𝐏.𝐋.𝐄.𝐍.𝐃.𝐎.𝐑 𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺 ---------------- 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 ---------------- 𝐒𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝐏𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝐋𝘦𝘨𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝐄𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝐍𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝐃𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 & 𝐎𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝐑𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 ❝ 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 — 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 .ᐟ ❞

escape.

i couldn't find it.

@axisbound.bsky.social show me your star charts? i want to check something.

the heroes had no choice but to become gods. how many times has that lie been told, i wonder?

very good, junobot. very good.

the blonde brings visions of dissected flesh to mind, her hands caked in blood. two hearts removed, still beating.

why the fuck would you do this?

not sleeping.

what else does it tell you?

exceptionally low levels of radiation, that's me.

i don't sleep.

oh dear god.

( it takes a moment, it seems, for that to all register, if register it does. ) yes... i'm alone.

the signora?

i don't know. it doesn't feel right. maybe this was a mistake.

everything is small & cramped.

presently... it's... it's smaller than i was expecting.

thank you, juno. what is this- this- this ship...?

il mio nome è andato perduto, e così anche io. can you help me?

what big eyes you have.

are you going to let me in or not?

she wakes face down in the sand.

she watches. what had been almost imperceptible, the slowest drip of sky, had become a torrent of smeared blue, like a great thumb had smudged the world. she felt sick, watching this. but she couldn't look away.

no, like paint. like paint peeling.

there's something wrong with the sky. the more she looks, the more she can't believe she hadn't noticed it before. not all of it, just up there, right in the very corner, do you see it? it looks almost like. a crease?

Crows cackle and unfurl in the sky, forming words their audience cannot understand. Luckily, we are not the audience. It's code. They hark alarms. In Shady Sands, a bird dead on the ground being poked by a kid with a stick suddenly awakens to carry the swift and terrible hand of mercy back home.

nothing is XXXX any more.

then suddenly, like a problem child with a very fragile snow globe, the whole world begins to shake.

she drinks the water even though she isn't thirsty. there is no thirst here, but it seems the thing to do, so she drinks from the stone pedestal and continues to walk. a rusted iron gate, a dead tree with dead leaves, struck down by lightning, maybe? she shrugs. it doesn't matter.

i *do* smell gas.

you see yourself walking through miles and miles of vast, open desert.

three words or less.