from the journal of a. zed. fell.

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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played by

Ceej

a. z. fell
She/Her
30
December 21st
Fortree, Hoenn
Bisexual
Surviving
Civillian
we could
have been us
5'8" / 172 cm height
5'8" / 172 cm height
i'm just a demon who goes along with hell as far as she can.
awards
1,436 posts
ana fell DOLLARS
part of
TAG WITH @cygne
ana fell
from the journal of a. zed. fell.
POSTED ON May 19, 2024 18:06:45 GMT
ana fell Avatar
“Banana phone, start dictation.”

The house is quietly busy, with loyal Pokemon scattered intermittently between rooms, carrying on like normal: Mairwen plods between her bird-feeders, jostling the huge yellow blooms of the angel’s trumpets and scattering golden pollen everywhere; three shiny Hoenn starters raid the kitchen for snacks; a Ninetails loafs on the living room sofa, watching old black-and-white samurai movies with subtitles.

Should anyone pass by, or be inclined to peek-- maybe drawn in by the towering candelabra aloe framing the picture window, or shading their eyes from the sun as they peered at the Pidgeot perched upon the roof-- they wouldn’t have any inclination that half of these Pokemon were sentinels, set to guard what was happening below.


Dear ,

I know you said you wanted me to let you know when I’m going to Do The Thing but I tried and I can’t seem to get ahold of you. I know you’re busy and you got shit going on, so I’m not mad. But I can’t wait any longer.


Pale fingerprints smudged in stainless steel as she twists the fourth deadbolt to the basement, making sure the door is securely locked. Down here, the temperature is significantly cooler, an almost twenty degree difference from the blazing sunlight and heavy Hoenn humidity of the surface. It’s still damp, and she’s thankful for the chill, as she turns from the door and has to spread her arms for balance.

She stumbles across the short distance between door and surgical table, palms coming down on the stainless steel with echoing thumps. She closes her eyes against the twisting of the room.


Oo-wee mama, yep, them’s the drugs. Anyway. I really wanted you to be here because I wanted you to see how much progress I’d made because of your… contribution. That’s a good way to put it, I think. But the more time that goes on the more I feel square peg round hole in this stupid body. I’m getting older, too, and the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to be to make upgrades. Eep, that’s chilly!


A long exhale as bare skin is pressed to cold steel. The room blurs and begins to fade at the edges.

OK, Kanaya, you can prep me. Anyway (again) um. I can’t wait to show you my new leg? Wherever you are, I hope you’re okay. I wish you’d ask me for help, sometimes. More than just, like, help at the dragon factory. Which I don’t mind doing! I love it, actually. But-- this is gonna sound really sappy but you know I don’t have a filter anyway and the drugs, they be like that-- I kinda love you. Not in, like, a 'mawwiage' way, but, like, being willing to die for someone is a kind of love, right? It has to be. Not that my life's worth much as it is but, hey.

I hope in the future I’m of more use to you. I will be, eventually, of more use to everyone, I promise. In every way. One limb at a time.

I’m glad I’m not a Pokemon. Most of them hafftobe intub-bated for sur-gery…


Cold pressure in the low light. The flash of something sharp. If she’s done her calculations right, she should only feel a pinch. Dry rasp of surgical drape pressed with gentle fingers over her body, naked from the waist down. The looming of her Iron Valiant, neon-pink blades a dull rose-color behind her eyelids.

Sudden weightlessness. Gentle pressure. An undercurrent of distant beeping.


Dn’t fo-get… hemo-stats…


A fuzzy dream that smells like ozone and electrical charges. The smell of burning flesh…

…hot, electric pain. Fire in her pelvis, up her spine, her lungs.

[The next portion of the dictated message to Freya is a garbled mess of incoherent screaming interwoven with creative cursing. It goes on for several paragraphs.]

Ah… ah… ah, fuck, I forgot to-- turn it off. Oh well. Full send. No, wait, Banana Phone, don’t--!


"Message has been sent."
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played by

Ceej

a. z. fell
She/Her
30
December 21st
Fortree, Hoenn
Bisexual
Surviving
Civillian
we could
have been us
5'8" / 172 cm height
5'8" / 172 cm height
i'm just a demon who goes along with hell as far as she can.
awards
1,436 posts
ana fell DOLLARS
part of
TAG WITH @cygne
ana fell
from the journal of a. zed. fell.
POSTED ON May 22, 2024 1:46:26 GMT
ana fell Avatar
“So-- birds, right?”

The wind howls, whipping blonde hair into a tangled mess, bringing tears to her eyes, and almost drowning out her voice. Behind her, four exasperated heads turn and look at each other.

“Everyone thinks birds have hollow bones to make them light enough for flight.”

A loose pebble slips, falls, becomes a minor rockslide. Up here, the oxygen is thin. To fall from such a height would be disastrous. She turns, pats a hand on a moderately flat rock, and waves her Jugulis over with frantic motions.

“But that’s not true. The hollows in bird bones are actually alveolar structures. They’re lungs. Their entire skeletal system is lungs.”

Something huge and wrapped in canvas slides off the Jugulis’ back, curved like the blade of a scythe. A pocketknife slips free and slices through knotted twine, pulling back the covering; the contents gleam in pale morning light, nearly a powerful beam in the sparse atmosphere.

“So it got me thinkin’. What if we took this idea-- pneumatized bones-- and flipped it.” She spins her fingers in the air, to illustrate. Reaches a gloved hand down and pats the cold metal before her. “What if, instead of using the pneumatization as a key component for survival-based flight, we made it less of a requirement, and more of a fun feature?”

Half-replicated from the thin carbon fiber-esque futuristic material of ’s donated Iron Crown, thin, curved sheets of metal hinge from a long joint, like a distorted, sharp L-shape. They are light enough to be jostled in the wind. Invisible to the naked eye are the hundreds of tiny divots, overlaid offset, thin enough to be light but strong enough to withstand the press and pull and torsion of air.

“You know who has the funnest features? Dragons.”

She reaches over and sets a palm against the joist, sliding forward with a grunt of effort; a latch shifts, something clicks, and the metal flares, locking together to form a pendulum-shaped wing.

“The alloy is thin enough that, with the right maneuvering, it can catch and manipulate the air. Just like a real dragon’s wing.”

Deactivating the wing-- sliding the catch back down-- shifts the plates back into their smaller, scythe-like appearance, not unlike the segmented, spider-like wings of her Jugulis-- who she is now clambering over, as easy as a child on the Primape bars.

“So here’s the plan. We’re gonna-- deactivate these bad boys--,” she reaches down with her metallic arm and jostles some plugs on the side of her Jugulis. The beast’s wings on that side flop down with loud clunks.

The two lesser heads peer at each other with something akin to concern.

“Aaaand we’re gonna strap on this bad boy--,” the other mech in attendance, the Valiant, offers their armful of tow straps, then steps around the Jugulis to help maneuver the pneumatic dragon’s wing into place. A couple of loops, a couple of quick tugs, and the naked silver alloy lays down across the Jugulis’ side, clattering slightly in the wind.

“--aaand theeeeen I hook this bungee--,” click, tug, “--onto here, like so. And finally… we jump.”

Sima 2.0 walks fearlessly to the ledge, borrowed wing flashing like a beacon of hope and progress.

Or an S.O.S flare. It could be used for that, too.

“Everybody say Lyune-abunga!”

They pitch forward, into the abyss, the remnants of her scream stolen by the wind.



Happy to report success with Operation: Odahviing. Yes, we did end up crashing-- but only because I don’t know how to drive-- a wing, or whatever.

Aand I had Rose use protect on us at the last second, so it wasn’t all that bad. Nothing a little elbow grease can’t fix. I think I’m onto something with this… pneumatic alloy. I just need to fine-tune it. Maybe Freya will let me borrow some dragon bones so I can get the details right? I’ll ask her… whenever I see her again.

In any case, I gotta put my knee back on now, and fix Sima’s wings.

…I should proooooobably do that before she eats me.

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