Sixth Anniversary Fic Readings

[Negrek]

Sixth Anniversary Fic Readings​

It's time for another year of fic readings over on Discord! The premise is simple: each person brings a PG-13-rated excerpt from a fic they'd like to read (or have read), 1000 words or less. That can be your own fic, or it can be someone else's--just get the author's permission first. This thread will serve as a repository of scenes so that readers can easily find the text if they're reading another person's scene.

We're fortunate to have @MintyMimix joining us again this year to read some of the fics! As anyone who's been to one of our previous reading events knows, they're a skilled amateur voice actor, and it's always a treat to have them do a reading for us. The number of fics they reads is up to their own discretion, and unless we get a very low number of sign-ups, likely won't be all of them.

You should come prepared to read your own story. While I expect we'll have multiple people interested in reading other people's stories, there's no guarantee that your particular fic will be among them.

The voice chat reading is scheduled for Sunday, May 4th at 2:00 PM EST (6:00 PM UTC), but depending on interest, I'll schedule an additional reading session for the last week of the anniversary. If you'd like to participate but can't make that time, let me know and I'll work on scheduling another session. We may also host a second session if we aren't able to make it through all sign-ups during the May 4th VC.

We've had a handful of fic-reading voice chats in the past, including our regular Exquisite Corpse readings, but I thought this year it might be fun to offer people the opportunity to read some of their own stories, enjoy reading others' fics, or simply listen in and enjoy the experience.


Want to read others' stories but nothing of your own, or interested in simply listening in? No need to sign up in this thread! I'll add a Discord event for the reading so you can receive a ping when it kicks off, but drop-ins are also welcome.

All that said, if you'd like to have your fic read as part of this event, please post below with a PG-13-rated excerpt of at most 1000 words!

 

[Dragonfree]

I would enjoy participating but almost certainly won't make the Sunday reading and likely couldn't until next Sunday; not sure if it'd be feasible to accommodate that, though, which is fine!

 

[kyeugh]

i humbly submit my dumb fuck gardevoir for the forum's consideration.

Spoiler: excerpt

The old man rises from his seat abruptly, silverware clattering as his big gut shoves the table a few inches out of the way. His face is tight, forehead wrinkled. All eyes are on him, but he doesn’t say anything. The scraping of plates and silverware subsides and the inn falls silent in anticipation of his words, but they don’t come.

“What do I make him say now?” Xiaohui squeaks out.

“Use your imagination,” Xi says, too engrossed by the petrified man to think. “Just riff a little.”

Xiaohui harrumphs and sits back down, massaging her forehead. After just a few seconds, the old man breaks.

“I have a confession to make,” he says, audibly haunted. “My village sent me here to request a bountiful harvest from the Wishmaker. That’s true. But I had my own reasons for coming. My wife doesn’t see me the same way anymore. I’ve grown old. Age has turned me creaky and leathery and fat in ways that repulse her. I’m like dirt to her now. I’d hoped that coming here, I might... I might find someone else. Someone who sees me as a person, who makes me feel loved again. And... every laugh, every smile I’ve gotten from someone here, I’ve felt myself clinging to it so tightly. I just wanted someone to look at me kindly, and so many of you have. But it’s left me wanting more. It’s like I thought I was just peckish, but being here has made me realize that I’m actually starving. Starving for affection. Desperate. And I hate that part of me. I hate what this has turned me into. I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself, or finally accepted that a part of myself was lost a long time ago. I... have not been the man I want to be. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry to my wife, and I’m sorry to all of you. I’m so sorry.”

He begins to sob and just stands there doing that for a while. Uneasy murmurs break out among the audience but no one says anything to the man, and eventually they cautiously resume their eating, and the old man just stands there all the time, sobbing, a statue of defeat and melancholy in the corner of the room.

Xi smiles and rubs his hands together. Yes, all according to plan. No chance that man will be receiving his wish now. “Excellent work, Xiaohui. Just one more to go.”

“Um... Look, I’m not sure I can do that again. That was pretty fucked up. I feel gross.”

Xi shoots the slowbro a glare. “Don’t be a fool. You didn’t force that man to do anything but admit to something he had done himself. Really it’s best everyone knows. What if he had actually taken advantage of someone? We’ve done the inn a great favor. And now you will do it another one.”

He fixes his gaze on the last target. He’s a slight thing, dressed in baggy clothes, sallow with thick black hair that covers his eyes. “You see that one? With the long black hair? Yes. I need you to speak to him. Say this: ‘You are a coward. You came here under the pretenses of seeking help, but really you’re just running away again. If your pokémon doesn’t recover, it won’t be your fault, but the Wishmaker’s for not choosing you. That’s what you’re telling yourself. And it’s a lie. You’re responsible. You were always responsible. And run all you like, for you will never outrun the guilt.’”

Xiaohui looks distraught, but she doesn’t protest this time. Xi’s heart flutters with delight as the young trainer begins to react to the words in his head, mouth twitching downward, shoulders tensing. Then he stands, too. Xi can hardly wait. His goal has almost been realized.

“Attention, everyone,” he says. His voice is gentle but loud, a quiet assuredness that doesn’t at all match the emotional state Xi was hoping to instill. “I believe there is a psychic in this room attempting to manipulate us. I think its tactics worked on that old man. Well, they won’t work on me. I have mastered the art of positive self-talk. Reveal yourself.”

Xi’s blood runs cold. Would it be too suspicious to duck below the counter now? Now he’s the one frozen in place. The young trainer brushes his hair out of his eyes as he surveys the room. Slowly, slowly, Xi forces himself to float toward the kitchen doorway, hoping to pull himself out of sight. If he were to be caught—

“This guy,” Xiaohui bellows, hopping up and waving her arms frantically at Xi. “It’s this guy right here! This guy is doing all this to you! It’s the gardevoir!”

“You idiot! You’ve ruined everything!” Xi seethes, taking Xiaohui by the shoulders and forcing her back under the bar. But it’s too late. The young trainer’s eyes are fixed on him now. Xiaohui is chuckling. Xi’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest; he feels like a pikachu has driven its electrified tail into his sternum.

“You! It’s you!” the trainer cries. “Everyone, chase this gardevoir out! It’s trying to steal the wish for itself!”

An angry clamor springs from the tavern, and too many guests rise from their seats, heads whipping to see where the young trainer is pointing: right at Xi.

Panicking, hyperventilating, Xi raises an arm and screams. The young trainer is surrounded by a field of black energy; then, with a slight pop, he disappears.

He didn’t want to have to teleport anyone. He really didn’t. But what else could he do? It’s all that stupid slowbro’s fault, that treacherous oaf. When Xi gets his hands on her, he swears he’ll—

“What the fuck? Did that gardevoir just kill that guy?”

 

[133TFR33k]

I submit the foray of the Gentleman in the GR Grass Fortress!

I'm too shy to read it myself though so if no one else will, I'm ok with it not being read. If not being willing to read it disqualifies me from posting this though, just let me know and I'll take it down.

Spoiler: Excerpt

I entered the first room and took note of the dim lighting in the place. All of it was coming from patches of some kind of bioluminescent moss that grew on and around the various rocks and boulders! There were also several mushrooms. Most of the floor was simply dirt.

Doduo began jumping around the room ramming itself into the moss covered rocks. Some of the luminous moss was getting in its feathers which were scattering about the place in typical Doduo fashion. Since the place was mossy with an outdoor feel, I felt no obligation to pick up Doduo's feathers, for once.

Standing in the center of the room in foreboding dim lighting was my first opponent from GR Island according to the brochure: Melissa. She wore a large straw hat with the GR logo on it, a white shirt and a pair of blue overalls. She was blond with freckles and had her hair in pigtails. I guessed her age might be sixteen.

She noticed my approach as she just finished yawning. "Maaaaan, its so boring here. The king ordered everyone at their posts ages ago. What took you so long to get here?"

I was rather annoyed. "Apologies if my kidnapping has inconvenienced you. I'll try to be kidnapped better next time."

She then laughed. "Wow! I thought the kidnapping was just a rumor! So they really did do that? Finally something interesting around here! You know what's more boring than watching grass grow?"

My expression was blank. "Watching moss grow perhaps?"

Her jaw dropped. "Woah! How did you know I was going to say that? Are you a psychic?!"

Noting that her reply was too genuine to be sarcasm, I gave my reply: "No, I am not psychic."

She was clearly impressed. "Wow you must have amazing intuition!"

I sighed. "You wouldn't happen to have any food would you?"

She then put her hand in her pocket and began speaking as she started pulling out an individually-wrapped large chocolate-covered pretzel!

"Oh well sure! I have this- WAIT A MINUTE! The King decreed that NO ONE is allowed to give you food!"

I remained calm. "Did the King give you the name of the one you could not give food to?"

She then blinked and stared blankly for a moment. She then opened her mouth as she took a balled fist and smacked it into her other open hand.

"...No! He didn't, but he said the gentleman would be wearing a red suit! That means you!" She pointed at me.

I placed a hand upon my chest. "Oh this suit? Why this is a crimson suit my dear! Why would you think it is red?"

She then stared hard and suspiciously at my suit and then at me. I gave her my most convincing confident smile before she spoke again.

"Iiiiive never heard of crimson before. I think you're making up colors! Nice try bucko!"

"Bollocks!" I snapped my fingers as I looked down and to my left before looking back up at her again, "well, if you are unwilling to believe me, then perhaps you would care to wager your food in a duel?"

She confidently crossed her arm with her eyes closed. "Nope! I don't need to do that! Our leader, Parker, said that your only way off this island is to duel us! So, you're going to duel me anyway!"

I lamented how close I was to that pretzel she had in her pocket, but proceeded to duel her.

My Dark Rapidash made short work of her. As expected since this is the grass fortress.

She threw her arms up in frustration. "Wait what? That's it?? Nooo! My shift isn't even close to being over and the King had us clear our entire schedule just to duel you!

I began gathering my cards.

"Say... you wouldn't want to maybe duel me again would you?" She asked as she batted her eyelashes.

I crossed my arms. "Not at this time unless you are willing to part with food."

She signed. "Aww... alllllright... just be sure to come back here if you ever want to play again, okay?"

I tilted my head. "After being kidnapped and starved, I should think the chances of that are quite low indeed!"

What is with the people on this island? The King orders a kidnapping and they simply find it interesting? They don't seem particularly willing to part with any food either!

Finished with its unique form of 'fun' Doduo trotted along with me as if it hadn't just spent the last good while ramming itself violently into glowing moss-covered rocks and boulders...

I then passed through the doorway and unlit hall to the next room which contained proper lighting.

The room was roughly half the size of the previous one. The floor was covered in straw with bales of hay stacked in all the corners. In the middle of the room stood my presumed next foe, James! He wore the same getup that Melissa had but had his hat angled in a way to cover one of his eyes while exposing his blue hair on one side and the back.

Noticing the hay, Doduo immediately leaped into the pile in the back and began rummaging about in it. I imagined this would make for quite the mess...

James didn't notice though since it was behind him and he was confidently staring right at me.

"So! You managed to defeat Melissa did you? Well too bad you have to get past ME!"

Doduo leaped out of one pile in the back. It looked more like a straw-duo by this point. It immediately jumped into another nearby pile to repeat the process.

I grinned. "Do you use grass types my good man?"

He proudly declared, "I sure do!"

"Oh good, this will be quick then."

I noticed the confusion on his face as we began our duel.

James fell easily to my Dark Rapidash.

 

[icomeanon6]

Here's a tiny, as-yet unpublished one-shot (~500 words).

Spoiler: Submission

Gym Trainers​

Roger hated resurfacing duty. Somebody had to do it, since it wasn’t the Mahogany Town Gym without a fresh sheet of ice, but it took forever.

“Chase said the old man’s buying a machine to do this next year,” said Tommy as he tossed another shovelful of scraped snow over the rink wall.

“Chase says that every year,” said Roger, shoveling more snow from the worn ice.

“Quaark!” said Nicklas, Roger’s Delibird. He pointed to a spot Roger had missed.

“Thanks, bud.” Roger skated back to the offending area and shoveled it clean.

When they were done shoveling, Roger and Tommy fetched the buckets of water and squeegee-tipped mops. Roger dumped out some of the water, and they mopped it up and down the rink in clean, even swaths, except where the odd boulder got in the way. All the while, Nicklas raced unhelpful laps around them.

“Okay, no machine, but he is taking us on that tour of the Ice Path, right?” asked Tommy.

“Yup. Every January.” It was the only reason Roger put up with the chores.

When they’d covered the whole rink, they skated to a spot near their ordinary visitor-battling stations. They then began repeatedly re-mopping a diagonal line of ice. As they worked, Roger heard activity from the entrance. The Gym would open soon.

A minute later, Edith, an older girl, skated up to them. “Morning, guys. How’s—”

She cut herself off. She must have noticed what they were up to with the diagonal line, since she sighed, rolled her eyes, and left. Roger could take or leave her good opinion, since he had standing permission from Old Man Pryce himself to “make things interesting.”

“C’mere, Nicklas!”

Nicklas zoomed on over. Knowing the drill, he provided the finishing touch as only an Ice-type could. He went up and down the diagonal line, leaving it positively shining. The rest of the rink was up to code, of course. This one swath just happened to be extra-extra up to code. Roger thanked and recalled Nicklas, then he and Tommy went to their stations to wait.

Before long, the first visitor of the day arrived.

“Backwards hat, fingerless gloves…” whispered Tommy. “He fits the type…”

Roger nodded. The visiting kid-trainer walked to the entrance of the rink and stared at the ice.

“Go on, genius…” muttered Roger. “You know you want to…”

The kid nodded to himself and backed up several paces.

Tommy was ecstatic. “Running start! Running start!”

Roger let himself get excited. The kid ran, jumped, and slid on his shoes with knees bent. He showed terrific balance until, suddenly, his right foot got away from him as it made contact with a curiously slippery diagonal line of ice. He flailed his arms and fell spinning onto his back. Finally, he crashed into the wall.

Roger and Tommy pumped their fists and struggled to stifle their laughter. Being a Gym Trainer had its perks.

 

[Negrek]

I would enjoy participating but almost certainly won't make the Sunday reading and likely couldn't until next Sunday; not sure if it'd be feasible to accommodate that, though, which is fine!

If there's enough interest, we could run a second session on the 11th--so if anyone else is in the same boat of "wanting to participate, but can't because timing issues," let me know! 3+ people and I'll schedule a second session.

 

[133TFR33k]

I have a question. If we have a way to record the reading, are we allowed to do so? It sounds like something that would be cool enough to keep...

 

[Inkedust]

So I won't be able to make the reading due to my timezone but I don't think there's any harm in submitting something here anyway in case you're interested (or on the off-chance another reading that I can make is scheduled). Here's an excerpt from my fic that totals at ~775 words:

Spoiler: Except

Bellatrix’s heart leapt out of her chest at the crack of Diggersby’s knuckles, followed by his heavy footfalls. She had no idea where she was going, she’d just have to make random turns and hope that Diggersby would take the wrong ones. No point in blending into any crowd, she was the talk of the town. Apparently. Of course she was. Nothing could work in her favour, could it? Where could she run? What would she do once she got away? Was this her life now? Constant running, even in her dreams?

Her strides felt heavy beneath the constant barrage of questions.

Perhaps she would be given the chance to explain herself? Bellatrix snorted at the thought. Hope was threatening her again. Like she expected anyone in this backwater to be reasonable.

The next thing that occupied Bellatrix’s mind was a wooden surface and a jolt of pain in her nose. It seemed that, while she was busy distracted by her thoughts, Bellatrix had slammed face-first into a stack of crates.

There was no time to reel from the impact as the deafening sound of wood and stone pavement crashing together left Bellatrix cold. She had just given up her position and, with no visible turns ahead, it would be easy to cut off and ambush her. Running back the way she came was even less of an option. That meant that the only feasible direction she could continue in was…

Wary, Bellatrix eyed the crates and the closest roof.

Up.

Shouts in the distance gave Bellatrix no time to think. She clambered onto the crates, her claws catching on the rough wood grain. Soon, her panicked scrambles had begun to dislodge the shingles and straw that comprised the roof that rested below her paws. It took a moment for her to realise but once she did Bellatrix took a deep breath, reorienting herself from this brief lapse of hysteria.

She looked down and frowned. Not high enough. She would need to go further for a better vantage point and hiding spot from below.

When an adequate enough spot was found, Bellatrix looked back towards the marketplace. Just as she feared, the impenetrable sea of pokémon had filtered and spread out across the town; no doubt looking for her. Bellatrix grumbled. She couldn’t stay up on the roof all day.

Just then, a breeze jostled Bellatrix’s mane into her face. Naturally, she was irritated by this. She wanted respite from the running and the heat, not another annoyance. But then, she found herself coming to a realisation: she was a zorua now. She hated to acknowledge that fact, but zorua were capable of disguising themselves with illusions, were they not?

Bellatrix clenched her jaw. Even if it was for the sake of her survival, to lower herself into becoming reliant on an inhuman trait repulsed her. A part of her screamed to forget about it and push onward. Whatever that diggersby had in mind for her wouldn’t be any worse than this, right?

She couldn’t decide.

Instinct clawed and grappled with her. She mustn’t. She was better than this. There were other ways to survive, other ways to escape. She just needed to—

Something within, worn down by either the heat or exhaustion from running, relented. She needed to do this, even if she would lie awake at night and loathe herself for it. Assuming she would make it to “tonight”, of course.

Bellatrix dug her claws into the roof and focused. Hide. She just needed to be invisible.

Her fur rippled with an ominous, spine chilling power that Bellatrix immediately clung onto – weak as it was. If she could just draw it out for longer, then she wouldn’t have to care about this crippling blow to her dignity for now. She shuddered in both elation and relief at the sensation that she had done it but such the feeling was brief as her grip on the odd power abruptly loosened, leaving her panting with fatigue.

Nothing happened.

The world grew hazy and Bellatrix heaved with the overpowering need to laugh, cry and scream at the same time. She did not care about the approaching voices of the townsfolk, as far as she was aware, they were lightyears away – white noise – in the face of Bellatrix’s own judgement.

Pathetic. She was pathetic. She had given up her own humanity so easily and for what? Making herself easier to catch?

Numb to the world around her and unaware of her own actions, Bellatrix began to crawl across the roofs of the town, making her way to what she perceived to be the town’s outskirts.​

 

[K_S]

Hmm that would be cool if we could keep the soundbyte of our tale being read and enbed it into the forum/summary propper. Killer advertising if nothing else.

Also, as i cant make it per timezones, as well as no discord or audio abilities in the computer -either listening or recording- i'll have to bow out of this event.

 

[canisaries]

Cannot read this excerpt or any other myself due to my due to my living situation and general difficulty pronouncing English, so I know it won't necessarily be read, but here it is anyway. It's from Kills-Other-Humans, and it's 691 words. Looking forward to listening to the other stories, though!

Spoiler: Excerpt of Kills-Other-Humans

"You have to use words, yes, but they don't have to be those words. We can come up with some other way of referring to that… activity."

"Like?"

"Like…" Andre lowered his voice to a whisper again. "Instead of 'killing humans', we talk about 'picking flowers'. How's that?"

"Stupid," Barely-There said. "But it's better than nothing."

Andre sighed in relief, leaning back on the couch. That was one bullet he wouldn’t have to keep dodging anymore.

Barely-There hovered to the left and lowered themselves onto the table, their hem spreading out in a perfect circle. “I wonder why there aren’t more humans like you,” they said.

Andre frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked - but a troubling realization came quickly after.

“I understand why ki… ‘picking flowers’ is fun,” the shuppet said, “but I don’t understand why it isn’t for other humans. I mean, most other humans. Not humans like you.”

Andre exhaled slowly. He didn’t let his growing anger show, though that was likely a pointless effort around a ghost that could sense it straight from his aura.

“I can tell where you’re going with this,” he said, forcing his tone to keep calm despite his quickening pulse, “but I’m not that kind of person.”

“What do you mean? You ‘pick flowers’, and you clearly like it. That’s why you do it.’”

An urge to gag crept up Andre’s throat. He pushed it down. “I don’t do it for fun,” he stressed. “I’m not sick. I’m not a monster. I’m a human being, just like everyone else.”

Barely-There raised an eyebrow. “But --”

“I do it because it’s my duty,” Andre growled. “The people I… the flowers I pick are bad people. They hurt other people, but they do it just subtly enough that the cops don’t get involved. So they walk free and go and hurt more people, ruin more lives.” He sat up straight. “Unless I do something about it.”

Barely-There’s expression told Andre they still weren’t convinced. “Why doesn’t anybody else do it, then?”

Andre crossed his arms and looked away. “Because they can’t do it. They can’t hurt others like that. It’s against their instincts, and if they do it regardless, they feel too guilty.”

“Oh, guilty,” Barely-There repeated. “That thing. But you don’t feel that?”

Andre sighed. At least he didn’t have to say it. “I don’t. And that’s why it’s up to me to do it.”

Barely-There was quiet for a while. Andre looked back at them. They were still staring at him.

He knew what they were thinking. Or, well, he didn’t. He could only guess, and that guess likely wasn’t as trustworthy as he thought given he was dealing with a ghost and not a human.

Either way, the shuppet was waiting for something. Whether it was what Andre thought it was didn’t really matter when the mon was likely going to fish for the answer later regardless. He took a deep breath and prepared to feel his heart plummet down like a free-falling elevator.

“Yes,” he said. “I do enjoy it.”

And there it was, hitting the bottom of his ribcage like a gong. He’d admitted he enjoyed it.

“But that’s not the reason I do it,” he said, trying to soften the pain. “I do it because they deserve it. Because the world deserves better. And I’m never going to put the pleasure --”

Pleasure. That word felt so disgusting.

“I’m never going to pick any flower that I wasn’t one-hundred percent sure deserved it,” he managed to get out of himself. He sighed. He felt a little better. “And what I like is not out of any kind of sadism -- any kind of delight I would get from hurting another person,” he added. “I like the way their aura gets, and I like the fact that justice is being served. That’s it.”

Barely-There, who’d been staring at him this whole time, said just one word in response. “Okay.”

It made Andre a little upset, but he couldn’t think of a response he would’ve liked any better. He returned to his bowl of cereal, now mushier than ever.

 

[Namohysip]

With Hands of Creation coming to a close this year, what better time than to have some reading done for it?

I've provided two excerpts depending on the mood of the vc. One has a vibe of "cool shonen moment" and the other is "funny shonen moment"

Spoiler: Cool

Context: Charizard Owen is meeting the final guardian, Salamence Aramé, to recruit her for another effort, along with her loyal spirit, Dragonite Ire. Milotic Zena and Charmander Mu stand with Owen as a 'found family.'​

“If I leave, this Dungeon could become infected,” Aramé warned. “We can’t have that. Void Shadows emerging from the former Dragon Guardian’s Dungeon?”

“…Right.” Owen stretched his wings behind him but kept his arms crossed. “…Then you’re going to help me in one last way.”

“How?” Aramé said with a suspicious glare.

“We’re going to battle.”

Ire perked up.

“You’ve spent too long in the human world,” Aramé said with an entertained smirk. “Battle, me? In my domain? You realize this would—”

“It’ll be the same, right?” Owen countered. “You could kill me, but that wouldn’t mean much.”

“I was speaking figuratively,” Aramé grunted. “…Fine. What about you?” Aramé eyed Zena.

“Where Owen fights, I fight,” Zena replied.

“Hm. Ire.”

The Dragonite sprang to his feet and thwacked his tail on the ground. The earth rumbled, leaving a fissure that trailed to a spiral arm behind him. Sand and water filled in the crack. Aramé stepped away to gain some distance and she murmured a plan to Ire. Owen could read what they said with his Perceive… but they were talking in shorthand. It could have meant anything.

“…Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mu vanished, reappearing at the center’s edge. “Good luuuuck!” she called.

Zena coiled up and readied herself. Her feather-fan covered her face, hiding her first prepared move, while Owen watched Aramé closely. It looked like Aramé was someone who preferred to finish things quickly. She wasn’t going to hold back, even for a sparring match. Ire… Owen didn’t know much of Ire, but he wasn’t as big of a threat. But he could get in the way…

“Zena,” Owen whispered. “I want you to prepare Life Dew after you attack Ire. Like we practiced.”

“Okay.”

That was all they needed. It was a new strategy, but they’d spent a lot of time in the human world planning for things like this.

“Ready?” Aramé called.

“We’re ready.”

“Mu,” Aramé called. “Mark the battle’s opening.”

“Oh, uh… okay!” She cleared her throat and stood up straight. “This is a battle between Guardian Aramé with Spirit Ire and Guardians, uh… Mom and Dad! Trainers—uh, I mean, fighters, ready… begin!”

As predicted, Aramé wasted no time in toying with her foes. She gave everything she had in one strike, conjuring meteors in the sky and raining them down upon Owen with exact precision. Owen brought his arms up and created a barrier, blocking the attack and kneeling from the force it exerted anyway. Ire flew in with his claws enveloped in indigo fire, but Zena deflected it with a powerful Hydro Pump.

While that didn’t do much, she chained it with an Ice Beam, flash-freezing the Dragonite mid-flight. She grabbed the new rod of ice with Ire at the end with her tail and, despite it being tens of feet long, swung it at Aramé as she conjured her meteors.

Ire slammed into Aramé and pinwheeled into the ground below, dissolving before he could even get a hit in. Aramé, however, was barely affected by the combination strike.

That struck Owen as odd. Ire dissolved far too easily.

His Perceive didn’t detect it, but his eyes did: Ire’s phantom loomed over Aramé, bolstering her aura to the point where it felt like Owen’s scales were peeling off. It warped the light around her as the Draco Meteor onslaught continued, giving Owen no break.

Then came the soothing cool of Life Dew. It wasn’t much, but it kept Owen going long enough to grasp at the Draco Meteor’s essence… and Aramé’s power.

Just what he was waiting for.

The meteors finally stopped. Aramé had to rest—but her aura was as strong as ever. The fatigue that Draco Meteor usually inflicted on the user… simply didn’t manifest. Aramé was truly powerful…

But the battle was already over.

“You’re still standing,” Aramé remarked. “But it looks like you don’t have the strength to fight back.”

Owen was on his knees, one hand in the sand, the other on that arm’s bicep.

“I wasn’t aiming at you.”

Owen’s flame turned black and white. That energy spiraled around his tail, up his back, and into his arm where it mixed with Aramé’s power. Then, he pumped it into the sand, where the energy rippled out in a single pulse. It trailed around every spiral’s arm in a matter of seconds and infected the walls of the Dungeon.

Aramé gasped. “STOP!” she roared.

Hastily, she conjured a second Draco Meteor—

Too late.

Owen sent a second pulse, triggering a Dungeon-wide shockwave. Zena took on a defensive stance and covered her eyes. Mu crossed her arms and formed a black-white Protect. And everything around Owen erupted in Chaotic energy. He heard something shatter, ethereal and glass-like. When he glanced upward, he saw the very skyline light up, twist, and break.

The labyrinth collapsed into piles of sand. The meteors evaporated with the blast. And the oppressive atmosphere of the Dungeon… became nothing but a memory.

In complete shock, Aramé only stared. Owen pointed a claw at her, forming several meteors above the arena. He held them.

“…Give up?” Owen asked.

“Owen…” Zena looked around. “What… was that?”

“Testing a theory,” Owen said. “It’s for something I’m going to need to do a lot more.”

Aramé landed—stumbled—on the Spiral. She stared, left and right, and the ruins of the spiral, which was now more like a grassy sandbar.

“You… it’s gone,” she whispered in total disbelief. “Owen, what did you do? What did… you… DO?!”

Owen stood tall, frowning. “I sealed a wound that Kilo has. I closed a gateway into the Voidlands.”

“YOU BLEW UP MY HOME?!”

“W-well, yes, but you were coming with us anyway, so—”

Aramé turned her body around and whipped Owen with her tail across his face. A golden barrier dulled the pain… but she had quite the swing. It still stung.

“Okay, I deserved that one—”

She swung again. Then clawed at his belly. Each hit was blocked by a barrier and Owen nervously stepped back. Every strike conveyed anger, but… he also sensed that Aramé was impressed—and not as mad as she could have been.

After several more blows—Zena and Mu awkwardly watching—Aramé stomped her paw on the ground and huffed.

“Completely and utterly unnecessary,” Aramé said. “You could have informed me of this ploy. I would have agreed.”

Owen had his doubts.

Spoiler: Comedy

Context: Charizard Owen is at the main town of the story planning something, but due to very tight timeframes, had to make a particular arrangement that requires cooperation from many other allies. Aerodactyl Jerry is one of his greatest... skeptics.​

Owen had spent the rest of the afternoon holed up in the offices of Heart HQ, going over records and commandeering a space for himself to hang up names on walls. Most Heart staff assumed he was crazy and left him to his own devices. Owen’s Perceive was on overdrive, counting heads, and tracking everyone’s elements. He had to glance at people for the energy-based ones occasionally, and his wide, hyper-focused eyes unnerved them.

“Still missing a few people…”

“Well, Owen, not everyone would be here,” Amia said gently. “Some of them are still trying to handle chaos in the rest of the world. The Waypoints aren’t all online yet, I think…”

The Gardevoir gently placed a hand on his back. In terms of behavior, she was a lot like the Amia he remembered. Yet all Amia’s memories of Owen seemed so distant, the way she treated him—and, in some ways, how she treated Alex.

“Is something bothering you?” the Hydreigon in question asked, hovering just behind Amia. “That list was very specific…”

“We have a lot of Dragons,” Owen said.

“…What?” Alex asked, suddenly looking self-conscious of his three heads.

“Dragons. We have a lot of them. Actually, they’re pretty good for this.”

“P-pretty good for what, Owen?”

“The Purification Circle.” Owen pointed at the list of names. “Four people stand in a circle, channeling one of their elements that’d be stronger, and facing someone who has at least one that’s weaker to that one. Then, we have nine of those in an even bigger circle, and we put Emily in the middle of it! It works! It’s one of the strongest anti-Shadow things I’ve seen… and that was just with mortal Pokémon!”

“Umm…” Amia pursed her lips. “You’re going to have to explain that one slowly…”

“Or… simply?” Alex asked nervously. “Oh, dear…”

Owen tittered. “It’s the way auras interact. I don’t know the science behind it, just that it works. I tested it with simple mortals, and it was enough to purify a different Shadow Lugia—one that had such a deep darkness that Lugia’s feathers changed! …Kinda like Emily. And that was just with normal Pokémon in the circle.”

A great, loud, intentionally noticeable yawn caught everyone’s attention. While most turned away shortly after, Owen kept his gaze fixed on the Aerodactyl as he entered his Perceive range.

“There a reason you woke me up this early?” he growled.

“Jerry, it’s still evening.”

“Wha?” Jerry squinted, looking at the sky. “…Sun’s coming up on the wrong side.”

“Because it’s evening.”

Jerry stared at the sky for a while longer. Just then, a Willow hopped atop Jerry’s head from his back.

“I zapped him awake to make sure he came!” Willow declared.

“Whyyyy did this have to happen now and not, you know, tomorrow?” Jerry said. He looked like he was ready to collapse in the streets and call it a nest.

“Because I need everyone to gather into groups of four based on this list,” Owen said. “And I need everyone in those groups to sleep together.”

The gentle buzz of the crowd’s murmuring abruptly halted.

“Owen…” Amia sighed. “I mean this very gently, but… is there any possible way you can phrase that differently?”

“You need to spend the night together. And probably get very personal, too.”

Jerry groaned and turned around. “I’m leavin’.”

Several others groaned, too.

“Wait, wait!” Owen said quickly, spreading his wings. “I’m serious! It’s part of the plan! This Purification Circle… it needs auras that have a good rhythm with each other. Pokémon are beings of aura and emotion—you need to be in sync with each other. Get to know each other, and be nearby. That’s why I need this to start as soon as possible to make sure this works. I even tried to make it so you can all be in similar groups already, so in a lot of ways, a lot of the work’s already done!”

“Still using your ‘turn of phrase’ pranks, are you?” Madeline called dully from across the crowd. “Really, Owen. Two thousand years and you still do that? There’s no way you can be oblivious to it after all that time.”

“…Wait.” Jerry gasped, pointing at Owen. He was much more awake now. “That’s on purpose?! I thought you were just an idiot! You…” Jerry squinted at him. “You psycho! You’re a fraud!”

“H-hang on, everyone!” Owen raised his hands as the crowd started discussing things at random. “It looks like most people are gathered up now, or… enough of them before we won’t get the night at all. Just—trust me on this, okay? I made copies of the plan for everyone to read, and your groups are all in the back. I asked Anam to set aside some areas in Heart HQ for this if you can’t find housing yourselves, too.”

Jerry grumbled and grabbed one of the papers once Owen handed it over, eyes skimming through. “…This looks like some freaky alchemy circle in The Steel Chemist. You’re not gonna steal our spirits with this, right?”

“No, nothing like that,” Owen said. “Besides, if I wanted your spirit, I’d just pull you into my Orb, remember?”

“Right, you actually can claim and summon spirits,” Jerry growled. “I’ll add necromancy to your list of totally-not-evil traits.”

 

[Ambyssin]

Oh, hey, I can actually join this this year, I think. And I can read stuff and do silly voices. Anyone who's been in United's goodfic readings can attest to that.

As for an excerpt, here's a weird out of context one:

Spoiler: Excerpt

Context: Drakloak Yuna, Toxtricity Nikki, Silvally Widget, and Zoroark Cyril have entered a mystery dungeon in the ruins of a recently-destroyed planet, hoping to find another plate for Yuna's adopted son, Arceus Leo. The mystery dungeon takes the form of an alternate version of Hoenn's LaRousse City (from Destiny Deoxys). Shortly after arrival, a rotom drone accosts them and they press it for information.

C-381 said nothing. When the dronetom back away, Yuna stiffened, worrying Cyril had gotten too forward with it.

However, its head started spinning around. [Checking... checking...]

Its head stopped revolving. [Bzzt. I am not seeing any reports of anything suspicious beyond littering and graffiti.] It hovered back toward Cyril and opened its mouth. A plastic square popped out. [Here is your badge.]

"Thanks." Cyril took the square and put it in his pocket. "And nothing suspicious, huh? Got a question for you, then."

[A question? Oh, yay!] The dronetom's head resumed revolving. [I love questions!]

"Any of these attractions you mentioned do anything space-timey?" Cyril wondered. "Like a planetarium or a history museum or—"

C-381's eyes lit up excitedly. [If it's science you want, the LaRousse Learnatorium is the place for you!]

Yuna could see the interest drain from Nikki's face like mead guzzled from a frothy mug.

[It gets rave reviews. Five stars in every travel guidebook around,] C-381 chirped, hovering around Cyril. [You won't find a better science museum on the planet.]

"Who calls a science museum a 'Learnatorium?'" Rayquaza scoffed. "That doth not even sound like a real word!"

"I think it's catchy!" Reshiram said, the fluffy end of his turbine tail wagging in Yuna's mind.

The dronetom stopped in front of Cyril's illusory human face, expression growing stoic. [All-access day passes start at fifteen thousand yen. Card only. No refunds or blackout dates.]

Alarm briefly flashed across his face. "I see." Cyril scratched his chin. "I don't suppose there are any sweepstakes or giveaways going on for tickets, are there?"

Nikki and Widget exchanged incredulous looks.

[I do not see any listed.] C-381 bowed its small head apologetically. [Do you have any more questions?]

"Thaaaaat about covers it." Cyril waved it off.

[Wonderful!] C-381's head glowed and produced outlines of stars over its head. [Now, if you had to rate this experience on a scale of one to five, one being—]

"Five stars." Cyril abruptly draped an arm over an uncomfortable-looking Widget. "Now, come on, team, we've got a city to explore!" he declared with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Yuna shot after the rest of the team. She didn't even hear whatever farewell C-381 had for them.

"Seriously? A sweepstakes?" Nikki shook her head disapprovingly. "We don't have time to go about entering giveaways! Or visiting tourist attractions, for that matter!"

"Thought it was best to keep playing along," Cyril said, shrugging. He stepped onto a moving walkway with the others. Thinking quickly, Yuna flew onto Widget's head crest so she wouldn't have to keep hovering after them.

"What's with the kooky getup, anyway?" Nikki flicked her hands between her face and torso. "You take one of your weird disguise thingies."

"I think he's doing it himself, actually," Leo chirped.

Cyril rubbed the back of his head. "Something tells me you have to share the credit for that one, kiddo."

Yuna tensed up. "R-Really?"

"Whatever he did to make me look all starry... gave me proper zoroark powers, I guess?" Cyril held up a finger, which shifted back to a yellow claw, then back to a dark-skinned finger. "If I think about it hard enough... poof. It happens." Back to claw, then back to finger.

"Oooh. Wow, that's cool!" Leo bounced up and down on Yuna's head. "Maybe I'll learn to do that and not need to wear the silly belt."

"Wouldn't count on it, kiddo." Cyril chuckled. "Anyway, it's best I stay like this for now." He straightened up. "I do think that science museum is a good place to start if we're hunting anomalies."

"So, it's a nerd scavenger hunt, then?" Nikki pinched her brow. "Grrreeeeeeat. Soooo glad I volunteered for this."

"Aww, c'mon." Yuna wanted to float to the toxtricity side, but realized she was still on Widget's head. The drakloak noticed a glass-paned handrail that moved in time with the walkway. She floated up to Nikki and landed on it.

"It's not so bad. Maybe there'll, uh, be free food?"

Nikki stopped walking. She leaned against the handrail. "Free food? Tempting."

Cyril quirked a fake purple eyebrow. "Weren't you snacking on a whole bunch of fries earlier?"

"Yup. And I burned through that already." The toxtricity stretched her arms above her head and cracked her knuckles. "Perks of being electric, I guess."

"I feel like that's not how calorimetry works." Cyril chuckled.

"Oh, hey, look!" Leo stuck his arm in front of Yuna's head. "Is that the science place up there? On the big screen?"

There were several big screens attached to the buildings at the upcoming crosswalk. Some people watched them while others moved past, stepping from one moving walkway to another. A few showed some seafood dishes with a nice looking golden sauce on them. But one had a man in a lab coat with a long, bright blue ponytail that matched his button-down shirt.

"Routine got you in a slump? In need of a little deep brain stimulation?" He squeezed his index fingers against his temples. "Or perhaps your pocket change is weighing you down a bit too much?" Bronze, silver, and gold coins trickled down behind him.

"Then the LaRousse Learnatorium is here to help!"

Rapid-fire footage flickered across the monitor, from a large rampardos skeleton to a small wind vortex seemingly supported by nothing at all, to a bunch of spinning wheels with water flowing through them and multiple lightbulbs turning on in succession.

The man reappeared, waving to the camera. "Hi, I'm Dr. Tory Lund, co-founder of the LaRousse Learnatorium, where we make science fun for the whole family!"

The advertisement shifted to multiple human kids and their parents gathered around a large gray table where someone in a lab coat was attaching various metal objects to magnemite and magneton. Some kids clapped while others tugged at their parents' arms.

"Ugh. Barf." Nikki put her hands on her hips. "Is it too late to go back to the blown up planet?"

 

[Negrek]

I have a question. If we have a way to record the reading, are we allowed to do so? It sounds like something that would be cool enough to keep...

I've recorded readings in the past; I can try to do that again for this session as long as the people reading are okay with it.

 

[133TFR33k]

I've recorded readings in the past; I can try to do that again for this session as long as the people reading are okay with it.

That's exactly why I wanted to ask. I didn't want to record without asking and informing!

If my fic is read and your able to record it that would be amazing. Totally ok if they don't want recording though.

 

[Negrek]

My choice of excerpt for today is from @WildBoots "The Chosen One!"

Spoiler: Just under 1k words...

Little Jimmy Miffle, they say, was the first to look up and discover that it was no cloud blocking the sun over Oxley Village. What he saw–and what we all saw as, one by one, we walked out to see for ourselves, leaving our front doors standing open–were three enormous red discs spinning overhead.

They looked almost like machines, or like the shells of some enormous orbeetle–and, it turned out, orbeetle was exactly what they were, though it took little Jimmy climbing the water tower with a pokedex aimed at the sky before anyone could tell for sure.

Of course, we’d heard about the giant pokemon popping up all over Galar–we do have cable news here–but we hadn’t imagined one would come to Oxley. And why would they? We have few people to terrorize, fewer tall buildings to smash, and if we have a power spot, it’s buried so far underground we don’t know about it. No, we hadn’t imagined any giant pokemon would make its way here, much less ones like these.

The strangest thing about the orbeetle wasn’t their size or shape, though both were distinctly non-standard, but that, unlike the news reports we’d all seen, they made no move to attack or otherwise cause a kerfuffle. They just hovered there, as if waiting for each and every one of us to gather in the town square and tilt our heads back.

In fact, it was not until Mayor McQueen and her Mr. Mime, Gladys, stepped outside and gazed up at the sky, beehive wig wobbling perilously– Not until Sir Bittle Coin (“sir” being a name he coined for himself, all puns intended, rather than one conferred upon him) sauntered out with his stern farfetch’d at his side– Not until Little Jimmy got down from the water tower– Not until the moment each and every one of us had gathered in the central square with our eyes on the sky did a blinding beam of light shine down, and then the orbeetle finally addressed our little town.

“You will nominate one species as an offering,” the three giant orbeetle intoned in unison, their voices like radios caught in a blender. Their words rattled the fine china in every cupboard in every house, and Ms. Nesbit trembled so badly she would’ve fallen over if not for the quick reflexes of the mail carrier. “If you fail to name an offering, this town will be obliterated. You have twenty-four hours to make your decision.”

Gasps and grumbling rang out around the gathered townsfolk.

“What does that mean?”

“An offering?”

“And what will you do to the species we name?” Mayor Queen shouted.

“This is the end!” Mrs. Miffle shouted.

“Mime mime!” Gladys shouted.

But there was no answer except the whir of spinning orbeetle shells.

From her tiny, impractical purse, Mayor McQueen produced her Rotom Phone. “Don’t worry, everyone. I’m calling Champion Leon!” she reassured us. “Okay Rotom: call Leon. No, no, not Mom, I said LEE– Oh hello, Mother! Er, no, now’s not a bad time…”

Looking anywhere but up at the giant orbeetle, we fidgeted and adjusted our cufflinks and, in the case of Gladys, mimed faking dead and hanging up the phone… until at last the mayor managed to get Leon on the video feed and urged her phone into an angle that (with some jostling) we could all see.

Leon stroked his goatee as he listened. “That sounds serious, Madam Mayor. Charizard and I will be there right away.”

As the Rotom Phone whizzed back into her tiny, impractical purse, Mayor McQueen announced in her soothing baritone, “That settles that.” Half to us and half to the orbeetle hovering high above city hall, she said, “Charizard are incredibly fast, you know. He’ll be here in no time and swiftly handle this, as he always does.”

Shading her eyes with one manicured hand, the mayor turned toward Postwick, out of sight just beyond the green hills. As one, we turned to follow her gaze… but nothing and no one appeared on the horizon.

The orbeetle hovered and hovered… and hovered.

“Any minute now!” Mayor McQueen said, squinting.

The silence prickled.

“I think I see him!”

"I believe that’s only a rookiedee, Ms. Nesbit.”

“For the record,” said Sir Bittle Coin, straightening his tie, “this never would have happened had you all voted for me.”

With a grating and a whirring, one of the orbeetle announced, “Time remaining: twenty-three hours and fifty minutes.”

Mayor McQueen cried, “Any minute– Oh, wait, that must be him!”

The Rotom Phone came careening from her tiny, impractical purse, and we crowded in to watch the screen.

Leon, wringing his hat in his hands, appeared to be in the middle of a rock field. “Hullo, Oxley Village. I, um, well you see… As you may know, I’m absolute pants with directions.”

With a strained calm, Mayor McQueen asked, “Where are you now, Leon?”

“Not a clue!”

Gladys mimed strangling him.

Offscreen, something rumbled, and Leon shot back, “Well, Charizard, if somebody were a little more willing to stop and ask for directions–”

“Leon, focus. This is very important,” said Mayor McQueen. “You’re our champion! What should we do?”

“I’m sure there must be at least one proper Oxley trainer to keep things under control until I get there, right? I’ll just be another ten minutes–”

His charizard snorted.

“–twenty minutes, no problem.”

“But, Leon–”

"I’ve got to go, Madam Mayor! Charizard has spotted a road sign!”

The Rotom Phone went dark, and the Village of Oxley was momentarily very still and quiet beneath the shadow of the giant orbeetle.

The silence was broken by a wail from Mrs. Miffle. “We’re done for!”

 

[IFBench]

My choice of excerpt is from my brand-new Ace Attorney and Undertale crossover, Twisted Karma! It's just barely over 1000 words, at 1004, but I hope that's alright.

Spoiler: Departure from Regret

There was little of importance in the next room, as all Franziska needed to do was leap over the cracked floor. Immediately upon entering the next room, however, she received a call on her phone.

“Hello? This is Toriel,” came Toriel’s voice through the receiver. “For no reason in particular, which do you prefer? Cinnamon or butterscotch?”

“Cinnamon,” Franziska plainly answered. It had a more refined taste.

“Oh, I see,” Toriel said. “But…you do not dislike butterscotch, do you? Would you turn up your nose if you found it on your plate?”

“It’s…tolerable,” Franziska said. “Though why do you ask?”

“It is for a surprise. I do hope you will enjoy it,” Toriel said, and with that, she hung up.

Was Toriel going to make her something? As annoying as she found the monster, that did sound nice.
Memories of simpler times flowed through Franziska’s mind, of the rare treat of cinnamon swirl pancakes fresh off the griddle, baked by her papa.

If Toriel was going to make her cinnamon swirl pancakes, she could more than tolerate some butterscotch.

Now that that was over with, she could survey the room. It seemed rather simple, a spike gate, a button, a rock, and a sign saying, “Three out of four gray rocks recommend you push them.”

These “puzzles” could hardly be called such. Franziska pushed the rock onto the button, ignoring the aching in her shoulder, and carried on.

The next room was much of the same, only this time there were three rocks and three buttons. Still brain-numbingly simple. She went to push the nearest rock—

“Whoa there, pardner! Who said you could push me around?” the rock spoke, and Franziska stumbled backwards in shock.

“I was under the impression you weren’t alive,” Franziska said. “Please move onto that button near you.”

“Okay, just for you, pumpkin,” the rock said, and slid on over to the button, lowering the spikes. Odd, were the other two buttons unnecessary?

It didn’t matter. Franziska strode forward towards the next room.

She did not expect the spikes to push back up just as she was about to step over them.

Franziska narrowly avoided impaling herself, and whipped her head around, to notice that the rock had moved off of the switch.

She didn’t hesitate to take out her whip, and strike the rock with it. “Are you trying to get me killed?!” she shouted.

“What was that for?!” the rock said, moving backwards away from Franziska. “I did what you asked! You never told me to stay there!”

“It should have been implicit!” Franziska said, rearing up to whip the rock again.

* Stop it! You’re going to—

Her whip rang true, striking the rock.

“...suppose this is it, then,” the rock said, as it started to…disintegrate? “I only…hope my family in Snowdin will be safe.”
Then it was gone, a pile of dust in its place.

* You won.

* Your LV increased to 4.

Franziska stared at where the rock monster once was, her eyes wide. That…didn’t just happen, did it? Had she just killed it?

No. She wouldn’t be a murderer. She wouldn’t make the same mistake her papa did!

She wouldn’t.

She

would

make

this

right.

…

FILE LOADED

…

When Franziska’s eyes opened again, she found herself standing amidst leaves, a familiar star in front of her.

This was…the room near the candy room, wasn’t it? What was she doing back here?

Last she remembered, she…

She murdered someone. A talking rock, but still a someone.

* …very well.

She didn’t pay any mind to the voice, as she dashed through the rooms of the Ruins. If she truly had murdered someone, the least she could do was give it a proper burial, and turn herself in to the authorities of this place.

But when she returned to the triple rock room…there it was, once more. The rock was alive and well.

“You’re…!” Franziska said, eyes wide.

“Hm? What’s got you all surprised, pardner?” the rock said.
“I…you’re back?!” Franziska said, clutching her shoulders.

“Back from what? This is my first time meeting you,” the rock said.

“But I…” Franziska began, before her phone rang. She quickly answered the call.

“Hello? This is Toriel,” echoed Toriel’s words through the receiver. “For no reason in particular, which do you prefer? Cinnamon or butterscotch?”

“You…already asked me that,” Franziska said. “But for the record, cinnamon, though butterscotch is tolerable.”

“I have?” Toriel asked. “...you know, it’s strange. When humans come through here…sometimes, it feels like I already know them. Like with you just now. It feels like we’ve had this conversation before, though I can’t put my paw on when.”

“...I need to go. I wish you well,” Franziska said, and hung up before Toriel could respond.

What had happened? She had felt immense regret after murdering the rock monster, and now it was like it had never occurred. She had wanted to go back to before it happened, and somehow, everything was as it was when she had touched the star. And with what Toriel just told her…

…had she somehow traveled back through time?

It wasn’t like that was much stranger than most of the other stuff she had seen here, and she had heard rumors about an experimental time machine being developed in London.

Franziska wouldn’t waste this second chance. She wouldn’t let herself become a murderer again.

She’d think about the implications of this later.

Franziska turned back towards the rock, and said, “I…apologize for inconveniencing you, but could you please move onto the button near you? …and stay there until I exit this room.”

“Well, since you’re being so polite, I’d be happy to,” the rock said, and slid onto the button.

Franziska curtsied at the rock, and as she stepped over the receded spikes, said, “Thank you.”

In the next room, there was a small hole in the wall, probably for some sort of mouse. There was also a table, and…another star.

She didn't hesitate to reach for it.