Recent Posts

The sound of the Scot's voice pulled Cafas out of his own head and back to reality. He smiled at her ruefully and shrugged. "Hi. I wouldn't be too worried, it's been barely functional since Halloween. I'm doing well to lift a hammer, and I lose control of everything within seconds." He slid himself off the table and stretched his shoulders. Tossing the ring like that had pulled a little. Too much force on cold muscles.

"But yeah, first fittings are always exciting. I doubt it will fit perfectly, though it will hopefully be close. I mean, it fit the dummy." He indicated a brand new dressmaker's dummy in the corner of the shop. It had been an incredibly useful purchase. Expensive for the degree of adjustability, and the limbs, but totally worth it. Still, it wasn't the woman herself, so it was really just a good approximation.

The stomach curve is a touch off, but I think I adjusted properly...

Without much of a pause, he continued, "This fitting is actually more to test your ability to get in and out. No sense in adjusting everything if you can't strap it up, right? Then we gotta see if it messes with your movements, and if it's fit for purpose. Then we can worry about the small adjustments." He was actually confident it would work. Certainly it should be quick to put on. All the parts that needed to come apart to allow Becca in and out were made out of modified rock climbing carabiners, all self locking. It allowed the top four rings to detach at the front to step in, the waist to be loosened enough to fit the hips through, the bra open at the middle, and if necessary the thigh sections to be completely detached. Cafas was rather proud of all that.

"That's all the boring part though, isn't it? Let's do the fun bit. You ready to see the prototype?" Of course she was. Everyone was always so excited to see and try on their new toy. Hell, it was probably the best part of the job, watching people's faces light up. for some people it was the fulfilment of a lifelong dream to see themselves in armour, or to hold their very own sword.

Suppose I probably looked like that.

With a flourish, he pulled the harness from within its cloth bundle, holding it up for Becca to see. Without a person inside it, it wasn't really as impressive, but he wanted the first time she saw it in all its glory to be when she had it on. No point robbing that moment of wonder.

The harness was constructed primarily of black patent leather strips, connecting a series of green rings. The rings were steel, plated in aluminium, then anodised and dyed green. The bra was black silk, with green lace in the styled after a magnetic field. The whole thing had cost him more to just make the prototype than he cared to admit, and he really hope Becca liked his embellishments. The lace had been a particularly painful custom order to place on short notice. Ultimately he felt it had been worth it. Still, that wasn't really for him to decide.

I mean... You're not helping the BDSM look at all though, are you?

"Ta da, I suppose. I hope you like it, I know I didn't really discuss the fancy bits with you. Now I'm gonna guess you want to put it on, and I may need to show you how the first time so, as is traditional, I'm going to have to ask you to undress." He winked, far more comfortable with the idea of Rebecca in her swimsuit than when they'd started. It was amazing what hours of close proximity and awkward positions could render normal.

The world pulsed in and out, no more than a distant pinprick against the looming blackness. With each pulse and new breath, the world grew. In tiny increments his vision returned. First he was aware of a second colour, a red against the grey. Then he saw shapes, gravel and a pool of blood. Dragging ragged breaths in to tired lungs the X-man fought his way back to consciousness. Then he retched, a wave of dizziness sweeping over his drained body. He weakly added his stomach contents to the picture swimming before him.

Gotta stand.

There seemed to be screaming. It was coming from somewhere. The sound of running feet. Dimly he was aware that a swarm of legs were scuttling across him. When he tried to brush them away, his strength gave out and he collapsed, rolling onto his back rather than in to the puddle, more through luck than personal intervention. His hand limply batted at his chest, but it was no good. He knew the true source of his nightmare. He had to face it.

Gotta fight.

Cafas mustered his strength and rolled over, then with a herculean effort pushed himself up onto all fours. Standing felt like it may be impossible. He couldn't feel his metal. All sound was muted but for the rush of blood in his pounding head. His vision swam more, and threatened to dim again. He forced himself to rise. First onto one foot, then the other. Without knowing where he drew the strength from he pushed and stood, something warm running down his leg.

Ok to pee, just finish the rep.

His brain felt fuzzy. He couldn't figure out his situation. He couldn't make sense of his surroundings. It was all too much. He had to pick a single point. He bore all his focus down on the movement ahead of him. He could see Amazing Lady. She was the first person he'd seen in what felt like an eternity. She stood over the glowing eyed girl, spraying something into her face.

Where... Did monster?

He didn't have long to think about it. The darkness began to close in again, and though he couldn't raise his head to see it the sky was spilling horrible nightmares. The young girl was bleeding. She looked like she'd been shot. The wounds were jagged, large... His. She wouldn't make it without medicine. She wouldn't make it under attack. That wasn't right. He didn't kill people. He'd promised.

When had his costume become so heavy? When had it gotten so stiff? His movements were clumsy and stiff. Cafas stumbled forward, barely keeping his legs under him as his knees rejected the weight. His pace was glacial, but step by step he closed the gap, shambling towards the women. Spiders swarmed, screams of the past echoed around him. He tried to shake them off but they wouldn't go away. He lost concentration and fell to his knees again.

All stops if she's out.

He sobbed through the pain as he stood again, then all but fell the final few paces, throwing his shoulder, with all the meagre strength he could muster, into Amazing Lady. Then, collapsing more than dropping, slammed his fist into the wounded teenager's jaw.

He lost consciousness in the effort.

Tag Charlie Sinclair

Oh right. Oops. He wasn't meant to show people that. It was one of Devon's little rules. Whatever, he didn't even like rules. didn't like Devon that much either. He was pretty easy and reliable as a lay, and he payed the bills, but dude was kind of too into himself. Weirdly moody too. Sort of guy Thunderclap didn't like to put up with too often if he could avoid it. Terrible wing man.

The hands on his chest distracted him from his little mistake. She'd won. They'd been playing all night, and she'd won? Damn it, he was meant to win! Then her hands slipped lower and winning seemed kind of secondary. He didn't seem to be losing anything by not winning. It didn't sit right with him, but who even cared. He didn't care. How the hell was he meant to get into a safe anyway? He couldn't just melt through the door.

The whole vulnerable girl act was different. Kind of new. Where was danger girl with her chin ups hundreds of feet in the air? Not that he was really complaining, but she'd been hot. Now she was like the rest of them? Oh, no, she was playing him. He knew he was being played, even drunk. Can't play a player and all that. Except his body didn't really know, only his brain, and his brain was losing its grip of the situation real fast.

His hands were on her hips before he'd really registered it, and while hers travelled lower, his slid higher. He smirked drunkenly, arrogantly, with confidence like he owned her. "Well, y' played t' win and did. Can't open a safe babe, tha's the point. Open plenty of othr stuff though." He snapped his fingers on her bra clasp in a well practised movement. It was a little clumsier than normal, but he'd done it drunk before.

"Doeshn't really seem t've bin necessary. Now, lemme get ridda that fake liddle pout." He leaned in, and went for the kiss.

It had taken two more measurement sessions to get all the measurements he'd needed. The first had been pretty quick, a few things he'd realised he would need. The second was far more involved. In order to ensure a perfect fit he'd had to measure distances between each ring and its neighbours for the leather strips. That had been a painstaking process. There were a lot of rings. It wasn't exactly making chainmail painstaking, but it had taken a good few hours.

Between additional measurements, research, and design, it was after Halloween before Cafas had managed to begin the leather work. At least he'd been able to just order lengths of leather strips. Cutting them to length had been easy. Coming up with a clear labelling method for each strip and ring had been far less so. That had been a full day of the process all on its own. Then the sewing. It just wasn't as simple with leather. He'd had to awl each hole, by hand in Cafas' case, then make sure it all lined up so you could feed the thread through. He possibly could have riveted it, but those pulled through so much easier; Given how close they were working to minimum safe specifications the risk of a catastrophic cascade was too high.

At least this way one good tug doesn't risk dropping her.

It had been an excellent distraction from the events of Halloween at least, and it got done. Cafas was pretty happy with how it had turned out. As happy as he could be at least. The bra was an estimate based on the measurements he had; His (thorough) research had suggested he took a few more measurements, and those had proven very useful with his test pieces for Maya. He'd wait to see what Rebecca said about the fit before he took those on her though. He'd already pushed the limits of their acquaintanceship with the measurements they'd taken before that point. The amount of time he'd spent measuring for the relatively complex hip set up had seen to that.

Hard to maintain a conversation measuring five points of connection on someone's butt...

The X-man sat on his bench next to the the cloth wrapped bundle and waited for Rebecca. A loose steel circle rose into the air off the table momentarily, wobbled, and fell with a ringing clatter. He sighed in frustration, picked it up, and hurled it across the workshop, running his fingers through his still bleached hair. "At least I can still manage that." He muttered sullenly, trying to console himself.

"A god by who's standards?" He yelled into the void of darkness, turning round and round to try and find somebody, anybody. It was just a solid wall of smoke bearing down on him, driving out the world, and behind it the glowing red points of light. Beyond the darkness, the screams were growing more real, more lifelike. He could hear them on the wind, and he was starting to doubt what he knew to be true. They gripped at his heart, brought him out in a cold sweat, made his pulse race. No, they couldn't be real. This girl was toying with his mind. He turned to face the red points, anger growing behind his eyes. "Get out of my head, child." His knuckles were white around Mjölnir's handle.

The fog swept back before him, and for a moment Cafas thought he might have just broken the girl's hold on him, but the smoke still pressed in on all other sides. It had only broken to reveal a new horror. Pulling itself into existence from the deepest blackness, the creature was terrible to behold. Had it only been that size, it would have still given the X-man ample pause. The writing tentacles, slathering mouths, rows of teeth, they froze his heart. For the first time in a long time, he felt certain he was a dead man. It roared at him, and spiders, large as cats, spilled from its maws, scuttling toward him.

Further screams rang from out of sight, new ones joining in. He recognised them all. He heard them in his nightmares. He saw their faces when he closed his eyes. They were the screams that woke him up, sweating, sobbing, screaming to drown them out. Men and women whose blood was on his hands. He could see it, pouring over him onto the carpet of spiders. He backed away several steps, before he was dragged back to the moment. Faintly, under the screams of fear and pain, he heard sobbing. He knew those sobs. He'd recognise them anywhere. They were Rowan's, Maya's, Abby's.

Above all else, it was failing to protect them that scared him, and a scared Cafas fought.

The X-man drew himself up even as the spiders swarmed over him, as the beast undulated towards him. He set his jaw, determined rage boiling inside. He focused deep, delving into his mutation. He'd never really pushed it to the limit. It was time to find out what he could do. He held the hammer out toward the beast. Cracks seemed to riddle its surface, glowing with the heat of a forge. For a moment it held, then seemed to explode toward the creature. Cafas fired off one, two, three chunks, each nearly a pound in weight. Machine gun rapid, supersonic red hot steel blasted from Mjölnir, the effort tore a ragged scream of rage from the X-man. As he fired, he could feel himself growing faint, the world dimming further, a trickle of blood from his nose. He kept firing. The effort drained him, drawing all the energy from his body, shaking him with intesifying pain. He dropped first to one knee, then the other, then braced himself on his free hand, his vision only pinpricks. Finally the hammer was gone, just a handle now bereft of its 70 pound head.

It fell to the ground with a clatter. "Godlike enough?" Cafas mumbled, barely audible. It was all he could do to stay conscious.

tag Charlie Sinclair

Red glowing eyes were turned on him from growing shadows. Cafas took an instinctive step back, his hammer scraping a little closer. Nothing more seemed to happen. Cafas let out the tense breath, and the girl started to speak. To him it sounded like so much insanity, no more logical than anything else said by those effected below. It was more sinister though, more in control. He had clearly found his epicentre. She seemed to contort before him as she spoke of her old ones.

A sudden wind picked up, threatening to pick the X-man off his feet. He had practice in that sort of environment though. He leaned into the gust and took unsteady steps forward, his hammer drawing closer and closer as his heart rate jumped. Colour and light played across the sky above him, and Cafas found his eyes drawn up to a rip in the sky through which leered back unknowable creatures.

Huh, drove a fire truck into that one...

The thought broke through the trance.

Something played across his skin, all skittering legs, a dark hairy shape at the edge of his vision. Cafas tore his eyes back and tried to find what had just touched him, but saw nothing. The sensation repeated on his back, then on his other arm, always just out of sight. He spun a circle to try and find what it was, but saw nothing at all. He could feel his adrenaline surging. His heart racing. His face drawn into a tense scowl.

Smoke is getting to me.

Swirls of the blackness surrounded him, confusing and disorienting him. He could no longer see the door to the stairs, nor any of the other people he'd found. All he saw was the red glow of eyes ahead. "Young lady, I am going to give you one chance-" Were those cries for help? He could have sworn... No, they were at the Mansion. Something crawled over him again."One chance to stop this. Come quietly. There's no need for-" There it was again, he spun a circle, hammer flying to his hand with a huge tug of energy. He was cut off, he could see no one. "No need for violence."

It's just the smoke. Ignore it. She's not here. You can save her, just stop this spreading.

Tag Charlie Sinclair

It was funny to think of himself as Old Media. He was so new to what he did still that it didn't feel old to him, and yet he absolutely was. Traditional Media was more how they liked to think of it, but that was just splitting hairs really. Maybe he'd do a ViewTube thing with someone to see what it was all about. It was certainly not as profitable though. Not that he exactly needed any more money. It was just collecting. He needed to figure out what to do with it all.

>>”Ye know, most people treat me tae dinner first afore a request loch ‘at,”

Cafas laughed, but he could feel the blush redoubling in his ears and cheeks. It was silly, really it was. Why was it so much more difficult with Rebecca? The swimsuit certainly played in to it, but he'd taken the same measurements on people before. Well, most of them. He was certainly going to have one new one at least. "I thought about it, which I guess tells you how well my relationship with Calley was going at the end there. Touching." He started with the lower thigh measurements, reaching through Rebecca's legs to wrap the tape around. Had she anticipated this? Her legs were certainly smooth. Not even really a prickle where his hand brushed. He was suddenly aware that it had been a few weeks since he'd shaved his chest. It made him feel a little self conscious.

Don't think about that. Measure. Just measure.

"Touching." Opposite thigh. He wrote down the measurements. "So how big do you need these rings? Just big enough to take your weight? Do you need a significant mass of metal to lift yourself? Touching." He slid the tape up, still looped around the back of her leg. With paranoid care in hand movements, he took the measurement about the widest point of her thigh. He noted the measurement, repeated "Touching," and took the measure of the opposite thigh. His eyes were utterly fixed on his work, face a neutral mask.

Well... Here goes nothing I guess.

"Okay, I'm kind of improvising this measurement, and I just thought of like, four others I'm going to need, but after that I got em all. Touching." Cafas wrapped the tape around Rebecca's thigh like the previous measurement, then pulled the outside up to just above the hip joint. He toyed with the positioning at the top a bit, then noted the number. "Touching." He carefully moved the tape to the other side, and took that measure too. He'd wasn't sure he'd ever been more glad to stand up in his life. The only issue was it brought him back to eye level, with his face glowing.

The final four measurements breezed by, neck to navel, neck to waist at the back, and armpit to hip on either side. "Well, I think that's pretty much everything for now. Feel free to get dressed again if you want." Cafas stood uncomfortably, trying not to dwell too much on the experience they'd just shared. If they didn't end up better friends after than, he had no idea what it would take.