Rapid evolution hurts.
Choices change you.
Quicker than you'd like. Than you realize.
Than you ever thought possible.
Rapid evolution hurts.
Choices change you.
Quicker than you'd like. Than you realize.
Than you ever thought possible.
and it hurts. in ways you never imagined.
but if you're living your life correctly. choosing wisely. acting kindly.
it's worth it. every second of agony seems meaningless when compared to the joys.
as an enabler of joy it's easy to do the math that makes it balance out.
but it still hurts. and sometimes you hesitate. get caught within hesitations.
the doubts pile upon the insecurities and the traumas whisper their lies.
and you just have to trust. as impossible as it is, as many times as it's burned before.
you just have to believe. no matter how much it hurts, no matter the consequences.
and it's so hard. it's continually the hardest thing you'll ever have to do.
but it's worth it. and you'll never be you without it.
not even sure when this started, tbh. a month and a half ago? late july? early august? in any case here the hex goes:
for the first time in years, we had a place to ourselves. this flesh and its system+ghosts, the four cats we take care of. all alone in 3 bedrooms of half under-ground, junkyard-surrounded, heavily air filtered house.
the entire situation was always precarious AF, arrangements between people who are so busy and privileged that they were more concerned with entropy and bill coverage than rent or mortgage, since someone else was covering all of that for them anyways. such things never did much make sense, but it's been a reliable safe home of sorts for years.
one we have contributed to and benefited from, lived in for a while, worked out of when we didn't. and now it was, functionally, all ours.
no, friend, you are not paying uhaul $110 a month. use this corner of the garage, we ain't. knowing uhaul ain't getting your money is payment enough, thx.
not a week went by before quarreling lesbians were talking out their woes in the parlor, fixing they shit in a neutral safe space. we had barely begun properly cleaning the place before trans girls in crisis were rooming here.
and someone very dear to us has been able to utilize this place as a haven in which to experience so many things in a safe space, with safe people. she's been talking about getting over her neurospicy hurdles and actually moving in to the bedroom she's been using as her home away from home. so she can focus on her goals now that she's not so starved for attention, safety, and experiences.
we would welcome that. she fills this space with joy, glee, and creativity. her girlfriend is also a delight. much more of both, please. have never lived in such a healthy, happy, vibrantly queer space. the fact that a space maintained by us seems to be automatically that? doesn't seem real.
yet we're told. over and over again. different voices say it differently, different lenses see it different ways, call it different things. co-bestie. chaos barbie, platonic sugar momma, feral space whale, irl trans magneto.
big sister.
we make people feel safe and seen. we get to use our skillset well. have already helped make miracles out of misery.
these works have forever changed us. during this time we have faced new things and old things, inside and out. and we won, so far as such victories can ever be ascribed. we existed in a state of openness and vulnerability and it was only the past that hurt us. and now we can barely recognize that past. it doesn't even seem ours, all that pain, confusion, and loss.
this feels like our life now. it's incredibly different. much better. this feeling might be somewhere between okay and happy.
7:05 pm
10/29/2025
"When?"
"March."
"Fuck. You've paid his mortgage for a decade, that counts for nothing?"
"It might. It may not. Prepare for the worst."
"Always do."
3:17 pm
10/29/2025
Well, here we are. Delivering mis-mailed paperwork of import to someone that destroyed an entire version of me.
Weird world we live in. Weirder still, it's not a bother.
We will probably remember the moment forever. The familiar walk, a new obliterating context. Steps we'd taken hundreds of times into a place we considered a home. Now, merely a familiar building we've spent time inside.
So many thoughts.
What strange fates brought us here? Initially, and again? You could get lost in it. Forever trapped within a maze inside one's own mind. Not our style. It took some doing, and we had help, but we rose out of that labyrinth.
Just another errand in a familiar place. We were its only haunt. The street was still and quiet. None dared confront us, if they noticed us at all.
Who would? Maybe the puppy, though we always got along well. Dread precipitates our passing. The burdens of a witch are many. This is one we chose. Anyone could have performed this deed. We decided it should be us. That we wanted to face that moment, whatever circumstance or confrontation that fate may bring.
And like so many difficult, different things. Nothing happened, and it didn't matter at all. Our job done, the moment over. Back to our life. Will we even mention this moment, later, recounting our day with the others? Will it even matter to us? Or will some other strange new crisis envelope us, rendering even this little victory unimportant, too?
"Time's not telling," we think to ourselves as we're driving away.
"I already did," Time replied with a smirk.
Dragon bitten, witches smitten.
What a night. It's sure things will be alright.
and if not, well, we've been through worse.
mostly it's the others we're worried about.
we've defied gods, demons, sirens, and more.
we can handle a couple of priviledged white boys.
we shall shape this. trust in the basic decency of creatures.
it'll work. it has to. and we'll do our best to help it along.
entire planets depend on this.
so it shall be.
Theo wasn't exactly sure where he was in the contingency pipeline. He usually got assigned the task of lurking in a dark corner somewhere, just in case the target wandered off their intended course.
This often amounted to just hanging out, taking in the sights. Those were usually horrible, sometimes incredible, and frequently dangerous. Few deigned to bother him, those that did tended not to for long.
No such luck tonight. Tonight he was the bait. Ordinary humans loitering alone generally got eaten around here so he'd been bubbled into position and asked to wait until he was accosted, and then instructed to "let 'em have it."
"Here" was a narrow alley between two of the gleaming bone and metal monoliths that passed for municipal buildings in Junlief's Hollow. It was the biggest city Theo had ever seen, and it was full of demons, cyborgs, witches, and worse.
Theo was in league with the witches. Most of his shipmates were strategically partying while the rest of them were performing a few discreet operations amid the ruckus. "Letting them have it" involved Theo invoking The Omenstone, an ancient and ultra-magical relic he'd become the guardian of.
It's an extremely safe bet that the inhabitants of Junlief's Hollow have, in their long and poisonous days, seen some shit.
One of the perks of living in a hell like Orux was the freedom to make and unmake things as one willed. Monsters and nightmares wandered, creating their own chosen monsters and nightmares. New and unknown things were plentiful and dangerous, as maker clashed against maker and monster turned against creator. A myriad web of an irksome, perpetual shadow war, its struggles ultimately rendered meaningless. Its victims forgotten, lost in the background horrors of existing in a place where things cannot die, and every malignant fate is often far worse than death.
Few balk at seeing the potential morsel of a tasty human perplexingly rise to face them unafraid. Most of them decline to investigate further upon said human's flesh melting away to reveal hardened chitinous exoskeleton of a mottled disposition, arrays of reticulated weaponry, and a tightly coiled nest of whip-like wings, tentacles, or who knows what and let's not find out.
Suffice to say, the transformation into the Ladybug usually stops whatever from further exploring whatever room, alley, road, grove, or cave Theo happened to be stashed in.
Skin melting is usually in season, and many Oruxians prefer their human snacks peeled, but bugs hiding in humanskin were a whole other problem altogether. "Alley Human" is a safe and low hanging treat for a bored demon. "Mystery Mimic Bug" tends to send them wandering elsewhere unless they're also looking for a fight.
The Ladybug simply ate any random assailants. It was the quickest and quietest way she had of disposing a pest.
Theo had, as the Ladybug, racked up a bit of a bodycount doing this work. His physical form genuinely enjoyed the dazzling dance of death while his mind tried to balance a distant delight with awareness of the forthcoming side-effects from transformative revelry.
That did have its unexpected perks. One morning his human stomach rebelled against what the Bug had eaten the night before. When he was finished he noticed he was no longer alone at one of the ship's vomit shrines. Doubt was nearby, eyes hazily narrowing back into focus as she recovered from her own expulsive efforts. They briefly got lost in the details of each other's mess. His minced chunks wriggled rapidly while hers sloshed lazily.
"Wrym," she offered by way of explanation.
"Demon," he'd replied, with a hastily added "Mostly, I think".
They'd been friends ever since, a fact their Captain took into consideration when assigning ops. They were both shifters with overlapping powers and they worked well in tandem. If Theo was playing bait or bottler another safe bet was on Doubt playing the bruiser.
Movement in the sky borrowed attention. A wyrm sailed by overhead, the scale of its scales too ridiculous for his mind to appreciate correctly. So he ignored the undulating mass of creature lazily breaking all of the rules and turned his wandering attention back to the job.
A ranking member of the Legion of Light was known to be transporting highly sensitive data tonight. The violent revelry that was currently rocking Junlief's Hollow had forced the transportation detail into this very spot. It was one of the only defensible routes left available. What appeared to be chaos incarnate was in fact a master strategist executing an intricate series of overlapping plans. At least, that's how Theo liked to imagine the mind of their Captain. He always seemed to know what they needed, which questions to ask, and who to assign where. He also never hid the risks. A guy like that, running a ship like this? He was either the luckiest mfer alive or calculated every contingency. Possibly both.
It comforted Theo to imagine the guy responsible for his life as someone who considered all the angles. It made it easier to face the nine demons busily moving his way, and sixteen seconds is a lot of time. A Vyldew0rx ShadowCaster only took 4.9 seconds to reach full thermonuclear charge. Theo was staring down three of those barrels as soon as the demons noticed him.
"Excuse me, your Lightships, but I am so lost, and I would really like to go home if any of you could help."
They stopped cold. Then they began laughing. Demons tended to express themselves via shoving their thoughts directly into your brain. It took a lot to get them speaking to something they considered insignificant. Insolent humans weren't that unusual across Orux, they just didn't survive for very long. The sheer audacity of the moment struck these demons with bone wracking shivers of mirth.
That was all he needed. He molted. His human eyes exploded as the Bug's eyes grew from within. The layers of his skin separated, melting away from within as the Bug's exoskeleton emerged. Gods it fucking hurt. Every single time, he swore it wasn't worth it. He couldn't cry because his tear ducts had changed, but he did scream. Oh, did he scream.
Nine seconds. They had stopped laughing. Now they were confused and cruelly curious. Perfect. Watching a human suffer should occupy a bit more of their time, and Theo was certainly suffering. His insides re-arranged themselves as the energies of the Omenstone coursed through his body. By the twelve second mark Theo had truly ceased to exist. Fractionally, at the molecular level, entirely Ladybug. The rest was just details.
She grinned. The pain didn't bother her. Hit her hard and she'll hit you right back harder. Thrice. With a bite. And a sting. For daring to get her excited and failing to deliver. Nine demons? A joke. Capturing them alive was a bit more difficult, but Doubt would handle that. The Bug just had to get their attention. One of them had an ounce of sense. Had begun surreptitiously charging his 'Caster. The timing was going to be close.
Shadowcasters are called such due to their tendency to vaporize their targets entirely, leaving only vague, shadow-like outlines. The Ladybug was more curious than concerned. Being irradiated tended to heavily influence her mood in unpredictable ways and do little else at all.
She flexed her form at the end of her transformation, uncoiling her pincers, wings, tentacles, and splines. For her preening she was rewarded with a full beam of atomic energy dead center on her form. All it did was tickle her libido, though she put on a show of breathing deeply as the blinding blast faded.
The demons had stopped laughing. This was a problem. They began assuming more serious formations. It was already too late. Thick strands of a sinewy, razorlike webbing had encased the alley's entrance during the lightshow. The webs glittered in the fading glow of the ShadowCaster's fury.
Doubt skittered around her handiwork with a deeply devious grin. She had 16 legs, arranged in an intersecting pattern of 8 organic by 8 biomechanical. Otherwise a lithe, lean arachnid, conjuring webs through sheer force of magical will. Her own biology couldn't support it. Had been prevented from attaining it. So she'd found another way.
Ladybug struck. A flash of her wings carried her into grabbing distance. She disarmed four demons before they knew what was happening. The others had their weapons ripped from their grips, holsters, or scabbards by a flurry of webs from Doubt.
In seconds it was over. As it tended to be with bullies, upon being disarmed and shocked by unknown horrors they were demure as drowsy kittens. That they were Demons in the Lord of Light's Legion of Light didn't change the fact that all of them relied upon fear to make their jobs easier. Faced with two fearless foes of a fearsome disposition all their own, these demons folded like omelets.
Doubt whispered her Lies, enthralling the demons into genuine complacency. It was too easy. So sure of their supremacy they hadn't even bothered to trigger their self destruction implants, and now they were entirely trapped.
Ladybug approached the Lead Demon. She shook her head disdainfully. Their outfit had tangled with the Legion plenty. So simple and rigid were demonic structures that their imaginations lingered behind, fixated on such crude simplicities. Their hierarchies of leadership actually involved augmenting their forms with proportionally increasing levels of lead.
This tradition generally made the most high ranking demon in the room incredibly easy to discern. Ladybug grabbed it by the throat. It opened its maw slowly, but willingly. She shoved a warp stone down its gullet and savagely kicked it out of the way. It vanished with a squealing, snapping blip, popping out of its dimension and into a secure holding chamber aboard the Mid.
Doubt grinned wickedly, impaled a demon with three of her legs, raised it aloft. Ladybug chittered with anticipatory glee. Their work complete, it was their turn to play, and eight demons were a great warmup for each other. Doubt let the others regain their senses. It would be more fun that way.
The demons were going to be a while dying. The girls were saving them as snacks. The efforts of their attentions frequently left them ravenous.
Theo's regrets were minimal and they cozied up well to the memories.
In any of her forms, Doubt always made him smile.
Caleb had been a witch for over two decades and an artist for over three. He was used to the experience of seeing a thing that wasn't there yet and painstakingly conjuring it into existence. He'd performed similar works upon himself, after all.
He was also fairly well acquainted with nonsensical mysteries and inexplicable phenomena just sort of getting in the way of things.
None of that prepared him for finding a landfill in the backyard.
It was a reasonably simple project, all in all. Dig up some grass, level some dirt, and start in on the block laying. A few dozen blocks later a terraced, private, and plant-cultivated garden meditation zone would exist behind his humble home.
His vision was clear, his work meticulously planned, and he didn't make it more than an hour into the project before running into an unexpected development.
Tools and materials gathered, he began clearing the grass. As a task it was easy enough, but doing so revealed a carpet, its form stringy with decay, its padding reduced to a mottled and moldy patchwork of worms and dirt-laden roots.
Beneath the remains of the carpet were the dissolved fragments of a buried plastic bag, its toxic contents spilled free to seep into the unprotected earth as the plastic degraded into smaller and smaller particles over time.
How much time, he couldn't tell. The bag had been full of batteries, their metal casings rusted over any identifying brands or markings. No worries, the bag of batteries would be but the first of a multitude of clues.
At the end of the day's labor Caleb had excavated five crates worth of trash from his back yard. The earth sported a wide, jagged gash, the raked ground around it littered with fragments of glass, stiff plastics, and rusting bits and bolts.
It was like cleaning a wound, in its own way. Differently scaled, that's all. It wasn't the labor he'd planned but he found that the work suited him. It didn't quite keep his mind off other things entirely, but it did give him something to do during it, and it was necessary preparation for what he had actually set out to do.
The weirdness continued. He'd found a map. Its contents were strange, its portents were worse, and it didn't seem to like him. He wasn't sure what to do with this one, so he rolled it up and tucked it into a pocket for later. It'd either matter, or it wouldn't. He did what any good witch would do under the circumstances. He waited for trouble to brew and got back to digging.
Today's labors revealed more sheer and utter nonsense. It was wider than he'd suspected, this crevice. Deeper too, and full of hazardous mystery. Very little detritus had survived with dating information. The rest was illegible, but a scant timeline could be pieced together if one had the patience to do it, the eyes to see it, and whatever strange motivations might make manifest in a being determined to examine closely the timeline of a landfill.
Not so troubling a task in action, but the results? The results were troublesome indeed. Alternate versions of things he sort of recognized. Wildly different accounts began to emerge. It all seemed to come from here.
But it couldn't have. The building would have had to have been there for over four hundred years, and housed still just three people. Though different versions of the same three people they appeared to be.
Some of the bits and pieces were of a technology he couldn't place. Materials swapped in ways he didn't understand. None of it seemed usable, but he set some of the more unsettling pieces aside for later examination.
Worse than the fact that they appeared dead was that this indicated they had at one point been alive. He didn't like that. That wouldn't do at all.
Six more crates, today, plus the things he'd cast aside. When he was done cleaning up afters he took another look at that map. He rolled it back up quickly. It had changed, and he didn't like that either.
