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Saccharine's One-Off Miscellanies


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The Gold Merry

The Merry Gold Reference Art

 

Nobody ever wins a war. It always plays out the same exact way. 
Engines hum, bullets fly, people die, and soon enough someone gets declared a victor. 
Everyone goes home and tries to drink away the trauma. Tries to forget the screams that haunt the deepest depths of their dreams.
Tries to forget the desperate eyes of beloved sons and daughters who just want to go home. 

But no matter how much liquid persuasion you shove down your gullet, the memories will never truly go away. I should know... 


"Armstrong Atmosuit? Check! Leather Jacket...? Check! Nicely groomed hair.... uhh. Hmm...", the man admiring himself in the mirror leans forward, grasping the edges of the sink. He squints his beady eyes, jutting out his jaw with dissatisfaction at the discepancy discovered in his morning routine. Both index finger and thumb gently grasp the offending article, plucking it free. He raises the strand up against the glow of the ship's neon lights, eyes widening in terror. "That a white hair? Aww hell, that ain't good.", mumbling under his breath he flicks the loose strand and combs over his hair again messily with his hands until finally it molds into something that resembles a presentable human being. 

"Last but not least, everyone loves a smile Witt.", Gregory Witt, Captain of the Gold Merry flashes his winning smile against the reflection and spins around with the cocksure grin firmly embedded into his expression. "Let's do this~"

The Captain's Room security doors slide open with a satisfying beep, exposing him to the rowdy commotion of the cockpit. Music roared through the Gold Merry's internal PA system in a volume that would prove too distracting for most. Yet the captain and his crew liked it just fine. The louder the better.

"🎵🎵🎵~ And that was the Sex Cells, an up and coming band from the Bontooran Star System! Aren't they just the most unique group of sentient bacteria you've ever seen in your life? Hah! Across the Galactic Community, there's only one station dedicated to finding the hidden jewels still underappreciated by the masses. It's Vector of the Rumor Mill, bringing it to you live!"

 Witt took his place at the cockpit, sauntering over to another man sitting in front of the ship's weapon systems. Giving the tanned bald man a light pat, he swung his arms over his friend's shoulder and gave the golden loops on his ears a tug. "Oh hey, these are new! When'd ya pick them up?" 

"Wha-- Witt?! Get the hell offa me!", the massive bulk of a man grunted, shrugging his captain off. 

"Helmsman, that is no way to address the captain! Oh...uhh... actually, while I've got you. How's the...hair situation?"

"The hair situation... is that.... is that some kind of code or what?", the man tipped his goggles over his forehead, looking up at Witt with pure bewilderment. 

"You should know Witt a little better by now, Uri~ He's worried that he's turning into a silver fox. Goodness knows why, I personally think it's quite attractive.", a feminine voice chimes in, lending a soothing balm to the harsh exchange. She brushed Witt's bangs, walking past him and turning with a firm stomp of her heels as she addressed her partners in crime. She folded her arms, hiding them behind the whites of her lab suit, smiling amicably in satisfaction at her captain's rising blush. 

"Well you know just what to say to make a guy blush, don't you Annie?", Witt's chuckle was quickly stifled by an authoritative bark. "That's Anica to you!", she smirked while laying down the law.

"Sheesh...Tell me again why we're taking orders from this guy?", Uri cackled while steering the ship into port. 

"Well, it's because the last time you tried to play captain we ended up hunkered down in an asteroid field while being hunted by five separate bounty hunters, Uri. As for myself... mmm. Too much work. So, Witt wins by default!", Amica declares as if that cleared anything up at all. 

"Let it go already, it was ONE time! And while we're asking the real questions! Gold Merry. Really? That's our name? Not the Skull Crushers... or I dunno, the Wastelanders?" 

Witt shook his head vehemently, "No no, you got it all wrong! It's pretty simple ain't it? We like gold and we're a merry band of adventuring heroes. So we're gonna be the Gold Merry! Get it?"

"No"

"Nope"

"Gold isn't even the universal currency!", Uri complained

The pair rolled their eyes at the captain, though Amica with more bemusement at the hopeless captain than anything else. She grinned, appreciating the levity he brought with his antics. It was just another day of many for her, a day of senseless decisions made in the name of justice and virtue by her dear Captain. Though they never made much money and seemed to find more problems that she would eventually have to bail them out of, she could trust that the captain always stuck to his principles. There was something admirable in that, that she saw... and she couldn't help but be glad that she joined his crew. 

"Anyways, we can figure out the naming situation later. Captain Witt... we've finished docking. You know what to do from here. Uri? No picking fights with anyone! Captain? Find us a bounty and ... oh by the way.", she leans in with a gentle smile. "Seriously, keep the gray hair. It looks great on you~"

Edited by Saccharine
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I Saw Her in A Dream

Sourcehttps://www.pinterest.com/pin/766456430350272253/

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"What's that? A dream?", the bus driver yells back over the sounds of squeaky wheels spinning around an axle that's been eaten away by rust. No ordinary wear and tear could have accomplished this feat, the bus whines in complaint telling a tale of abuse and mishandling. 

"A dream. She appeared out of the blue. Standing on top of an ocean of stars...", he replied, unsure of how much to reveal. His arms ached from leaning against the cold foggy window, now all too dark to even enjoy the scenery. 

"Was she pretty?", the bus driver continued, determined to strike up a conversation. 

"She had silver hair and eyes as red as apples. She looked sad...", the boy answered. He wasn't sure why he was even replying. The things he saw, the words he heard. The chills creeping down his spine; his survival instincts warning him not to pursue his quarry. 

"Sad girls can be pretty.", the bus driver shrugged. He sniffed and wiped his nose, squinting his eyes to make out the pavement ahead. "Why're you going to Clarence Point? What good will that do ye?"

"She told me to meet her there. Told me to come as soon as possible.", he dug his hands into his pockets to find reprieve from the harsh bitter cold. He wasn't used to being this far north as evidenced by his pale fingertips and beet red earlobes. 

"The girl from your dream?"

"The girl from my dream."

"Crazy lad. Need a doctor more than ye need a fuck, if ye ask me. But, I suppose I understand. I've done my fair share of mad things while chasing a lass. Well, we're coming up on it now.", the driver turned into the curb of the wilderness, the haunting beams hovering over a sign long since vandalized by graffiti art. The bloated man pulled the lever, causing his beast of burden to creak in pathetic subservience. The door swings open, inviting the frosty air to interrupt the good work of the air conditioners. 

The boy shuddered, pulling his shearling jacket together to cover up his chest. He wasted no time in exiting the vehicle, feeling blessed for having survived the trip. The dark was penetrating, swallowing the world in it's ravenous hunger. Yet it hungered still, wanting nothing more than to consume the new prey that settled in it's abode. 

"You must come to Clarence Point, Dorian. You must come as fast as you can... I'm so sorry...", her sorrowful words rang in Dorian's ear. Hauntingly driving him to this place. He'd always been haunted by her voice in his dreams. Sometimes mad, sometimes frightening, and sometimes frighteningly impassioned. Too many times to be coincidence, but too imagined to believe it was real.

Clouds stormed overhead, circling around Dorian like vultures waiting for his final cry of despair. He steeled his heart and lurched his heavy legs forward, climbing the path towards the cliffside that came to be known as Clarence Point. It was an old camping site, long abandoned after a couple fell from the edge into the waters below. Deaths and suicide were bad press and it didn't take long for the media to aggrieve the lack of safety measures. 

Dorian grimaced, noting the same phenomenon from the morning. Little details that didn't add up. As he climbed, the earth underneath his feet felt lighter. He felt stronger, yet all the same unsettled. The falling leaves from the trees around him, seemed to climb instead back up to their branches. Birds stopped chirping, insects stopped buzzing. When he arrived at last at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the sea, the distinct smell of ash lingered in the air... The black sky gave way to horizon's edge, shining through in a spectrum of purple, green, and the darkest shade of blue. Most frightening of all, the sea was still. 

"This... what is all of this?", Dorian began, pulling the glass frame free from his eyes and wiping them down before setting them back in place. The wondrous sight did nothing for his mood. "She isn't here. She's..."

"I'm here."

"That voice?!", he turned to face a girl with a ghostly pale complexion. Her brilliantly white hair flowing underneath a straw sunhat, the moonlight lending it a brilliant sheen. For a moment he basked in the woman before him, the way her bangs hid away the ruby treasures that hid underneath matching the intensity of his gaze. Her full and inviting lips, begging for his touch. Her slender figure, fitting into a white sundress that better suited the summer than their current circumstances. The little bracelets she wore, that he'd helped her make in his dreams were the biggest surprise of all. 

"You came. I knew you would.", she hummed stepping forward. "This world is at an end, I'm glad you're here."

"At an end? What do you mean? You're not making any sense... why would the world be ending now?", Dorian demanded an explanation. "Please. Tell me."

"My name is Alys. You named me, remember? You should at least call me by my name, Dorian~.", Alys teased, seeming all too calm. All the tension having left her body, even as the Earth began to shake.

"Alys... am I going to die?", his shoulders sunk.

"No. They're here, but I won't let them touch you. When I learned what was going to happen, I called you here. Clarence Point is still out of their range of vision.", Alys began with a reassuring smile. "Listen. There are many worlds out there. This is one of them and it's neighboring my own. You were the only one that ever heard me call out into the darkness. When I was lost, you gave me comfort..."

Alys pulled Dorian into an embrace, closing her eyes as she pushed him over the edge. "I'm sure none of this makes any sense to you... but I want you to know. You're my best friend. I need you to trust me. If you do, then I will protect you."

"No matter what."

Dorian screamed, as he fell into the ocean below. The beautiful girl in his arms, beginning to glow as their falling bodies leave in it's wake, a stream of light. The clouds converge around Clarence Point, the twirling greens and purples gathering and spinning violently into a twisting storm that struck the rocky shores. The trees began to melt into the earth, reverting to a liquid state. The insects bleated like goats and humans for the first time felt what it meant to love without fear. The oxymoronic world faded in a brilliant display until all was white. 

As they struck the water, the world spins, sensations churning. He felt as though he were being dragged along by his belly button, his chest hair constricting and sending a burning sensation through his body. North, becomes South. Up, becomes down. Time, marching backwards as through the water's surface Dorian and Alys begin to rise. 

"This is my world. You're safe here... I promise."

 

Edited by Saccharine
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Please Don't Wake Me Up

Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/18084835994759296/

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"Did it surprise you?", she questioned with a shaky voice. She tapped the umbrella as she looked up at a man she barely recognized. Not anymore. The years had been too long for that. 

"Not really.", he answered unconvincingly. He looked disoriented, his hair disheveled and his shirt sticking out from his jeans. A beard had somehow invaded the once chiseled jawline, hiding in shame the way his complexion had begun to fade. 

"Well, alright then.", clinging the umbrella tighter and hugging it over her shoulder, she began to move away. There wasn't much to say after all. People move on. She sighed, shaking her head. Just a silly diversion, it didn't matter now and it was too late to go back. 

Yet as she passed him by, his breath found it's second wind. He didn't want to lose his chance, not again. "Wait!", he exclaimed grasping her wrist and stopping her retreat. "Please wait...":

"What if we started over?", he barked, with the force of an inferno. 

The heated words sunk into her ear, bringing back the longing for that old flame still flickering in the depths of her heart. His strong hands, his boisterous laugh, the way he always knew what to say to move her heart. She hated the way her heart responded, telling her to hear him out. To give him one last chance. 

"We can't."

"Is it because of him? Forget him."

She inhaled, in a measured and steady huff. "It hurts doesn't it? Watching someone else live your dream with your  own two eyes? Well, I like this dream.", she swung and pulled her arms free of his touch. "It's like I'm floating on a cloud, being drifted by the winds into who knows where without a care in the world. He makes me feel safe. He doesn't shout at me. He listens to me..."

"Don't you see?", she takes a few more steps, before turning towards the faltering flame that dwindled in intensity by the second. "I'm not ready to wake up from this dream. Please, don't try to wake me. If you don't understand... that's fine. One day, you will." 

At last the fire faded. From his eyes, from his voice, from her wrist the heat of his touch. Drowning away in the icey rain. 

Edited by Saccharine
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