Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

Cellulose & Steel	By : Not-Taylor Category: Misc Books > FemmeSlash Views: 1028 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own HDG or its characters and I don't make money from this work.

Chapter List
- 58
- 59
- 60
If the Affini were to parody Terran communists intentionally, they wouldn’t have been able to do a better job than they had by mistake. Certainly, Ember knew how much a free market increased a society’s prosperity, but it wasn’t deranged. It knew about the issues capitalism had, which is why regulation was even needed. It knew about how the invisible hand sometimes gave headpats to those who were discriminatory. That wasn’t hard to stop at all. Even if Ember might sound deranged, that was only due to fighting against the enemies of its people and homeworld, who were trying to break down its ability to resist, just as they did with all prisoners of war.
Even taking all of that into account… How could it take the weeds seriously? Calling gender a costume, rather than something inherent to every individual, is precisely the sort of thing another variety of extremist accused anyone who didn’t agree with them fully of doing. Certain forms would naturally be banned in the Compact. If gender is another set of clothing, and if your “mistress” chooses what you wear, doesn’t that mean she’s empowered to pick your gender too? Who’s going to stop her when she could probably stop you from noticing anyway? Why wouldn’t they just do conversion therapy?
Ember decides it really needs to get away from Procrustes Edok and her minions before something terrible happens. Not that terrible things haven’t happened already. This time, things might not be fixable. Not that things are properly fixed yet… “Olivia” needs therapy badly, as long as “she” doesn’t have to get it from a weed.
What they did to Ginger must never happen to “her” or to anyone else. Maybe if “Olivia” were to get on board another ship, it would be able to take “her” away somewhere. Then “she” can discharge "her" duty as a “terran” and maybe rescue a few of “her” people.
No. That won’t work. It wasn’t going to work back when “Olivia” had a very fast starship and it’s not going to work now, especially now that they’re onto “her.” Not that they weren’t before… Stars, there wasn’t actually a chance, was there? “She” already knew that, but it still hurts. It’s better to play nicely until there’s an opening, no matter how long that takes.
“Pet.” If this were easy somebody else would’ve done it already. “Olivia” holds in a sigh and ignores the hail.
“Ember.”
“What?”
“It’s time for bed.”
“That’s nice.”
“Are you ready?”
“No.”
“Then I suppose you’ll need to be gotten ready.”
“I’m fine, but thanks for asking.”
“Darling, I didn’t ask any questions. It’s time for bed.”
“I don’t care.”
“Would you like a sedative to help you feel tired? Your attempt at running away followed by having a tantrum in public must have been terribly draining.”
“It wasn’t. In fact, I’m ready to leave again already. Ruby Trunk has lots of cozy alleys.”
“I hope that was a joke.” Verda’s tone leaves her prisoner with no doubts that that was a warning.
“What do you want from me?”
“Your teeth need brushing and your face needs washing. After that, we’ll go to bed.”
“What do you mean…”
“Bed.” She points to it. “Daash.”
“I don’t want to go there. Couldn’t I sleep on the couch instead?”
“Really, darling?”
“Really. I don’t want to be near you. I’d rather stay outside chained to a post.” The affini doesn’t look hurt.
“Very well, pet. You can go to sleep on the couch.”
“I know what you just did. You said something different from what I said.”
“I did?”
“How have I kept winding up in your bed when I try to sleep elsewhere? It’s happened almost every night since you abducted me.”
“Perhaps you’ve simply been drawn to my presence.” If the mischief weren’t evident in her grin it wouldn’t be possible to miss it in the way her vines slowly twirl. How does Ember know anything about that? Aside from it being obvious, of course.
“Verda…”
“Ember?”
“?”
Verda smirks.
“You’re using xenodrugs on me.”
“I never said I wasn’t, only that your dosage was light. Ensuring you get restful sleep somewhere that I can keep you under careful watch is entirely within my rights as your mistress.”
“This is why I don’t trust you.”
“It is not. You distrust me because I’m an affini, which is for no other reason than that you were told to by figures of authority before we met. What you would list as other reasons all derive from that single cause. Feel free to refute that statement.”
She uses xenodrugs because she’s an affini. She thinks she’s its mistress because she’s an affini. She calls it her pet and ignores its consent because she’s an affini. If she weren’t she wouldn’t do all of those things and wouldn’t be a problem. She’s not technically wrong. She would’ve given more than enough reason to be cautious even if Ember hadn’t been made aware of the nature of the weeds during the War.
“I would distrust you less if you stopped using xenodrugs out of some weird urge to use me as a body pillow.”
“What usually happens is that you’re the one to use me as a pillow, Ember.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to. If I were to wake you up one night I could show you.”
“I’m not sleeping tonight. Last night was fine and I spent it on the couch.” It didn’t actually sleep last night but Verda doesn’t need to know that. Even if Ember is willing to accept she isn’t malicious that doesn’t mean it’s going to give her what she wants when it doesn’t want that.
“If that’s how you feel… Perhaps, if you were to promise not to try to run away tonight, I could promise not to bring you to bed tonight.”
“I don’t trust that.”
“There’s no fine print, pet. I’d rather you were rested than not, and this way you’ll be able to see that I keep my word. Besides, all the exits are safely locked so you would have to call somebody again. Though I must say, you’re quite the escape artist.”
“I’ve had years of practice.”
“You certainly have, Ember. My hope is that you’ll feel safe enough to consider yourself at home, at some point.”
“Not with you.”
“For a terran as adorable as you are, I’m sure there are any number of willing homes that would be delighted to take you in. Teeth, face, and couch, then?”
“Fine.”
As big of a revelation as that was, Ember isn’t surprised… or even that upset. The list of Verda’s transgressions is constantly growing, but her honesty and openness matter. This could easily be a trick, but what if it isn’t? It wasn’t planning to run away tonight, so this is a free chance to prove Verda’s as bad as the rest. Though she’s clearly intending to prove she’s better than Ember thinks.
Of course… it’s still all trickery and lies. Verda’s scheming to get it into bed with her again soon. This is a gambit of some kind. Into bed? The phrase sounds more messed up every time Ember thinks it over. The weed is trying to corrupt it somehow. Why does she need it in bed?
Biorhythms. That’s it. She wants it exposed to her noxious sounds. Lately Ember hasn’t been noticing them as much. They’re still there, but harder to focus on. It’s as though they’ve moved into the distance, or are hiding behind a wall of cotton. Hopefully they’re not affecting it due to some kind of resistance. It really doesn’t want to turn into a pet…
A beam of yellowish light strikes Ember’s bow, jolting it into combat mode. No threats are within sensor range. Its weapons power down, allowing it to calmly analyze its surroundings. The vessel is moored on the couch, where it had been left several hours earlier. That’s good. The weed didn’t lie about letting it stay here. Further readings indicate that said weed isn’t present. She’s nowhere visible. Since the door to the bedroom is closed, that’s probably where she is. Despite relief at her absence, Ember is slightly worried about what that means. At best she’s scheming something. At worst, she’s scheming something. Picking out an outfit to change it into and preparing to have it implanted with an alien parasite are both schemes, after all.
The entity that’s technically not a ship but isn’t quite not a ship stands and looks around. Nothing interesting. There’s a message from Evlen on its tablet but it really isn’t ready to deal with that yet. How did it get there? Did Verda move it? Maybe she xenodrugged it for the night and only replaced it right before morning. Those are the sorts of things that weeds do.
A soft wooshing noise grabs Ember’s attention. One of Verda’s vines is passing through the doorway, eventually followed by the rest of her. She’s moving more like a fluid than like a person this morning. It supposes that she’s a person either way, so that’s not a helpful observation. The happy look on her face doesn’t carry a sly undertone for once. She must be getting better at hiding her thoughts- Hold on, this is important!
“Verda. The ships. My ships. Are they intact?”
“Maybe. It’s unlikely that Ides would be destroyed when it has somebody to look after it.”
“I need their hardware. My memories are in there.”
“Which memories? You haven’t seemed to be missing anything.”
“No but… Would you know if I were? It’s complicated. I'm worried something important is on there and I wouldn’t have thought to take it off.”
“Is this an excuse to fly again?”
“No. I need this. Song of Destruction especially.” Ember flashes her its neediest look. If the gamble doesn’t pay off she’ll be goaded into using xenodrugs.
“I suppose that makes sense. You were there quite a while. Can you really extract memory data from electronics?”
“Of course. I think. This is just electrons too,” it says, pointing to its skull.
Verda looks conflicted for a moment before replying. “You said that the interface limits your motor capabilities. That isn’t the only reason I would be reluctant to bring a tank into our home… Perhaps we could see if Song of Destruction is intact… if you really feel up to it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You still don’t remember what happened the last time we flew together.”
“I remember-” that Verda has no security on her core, that she’s a decent navigator, and that she’s ashamed of not domesticating literally every Terran in existence. “That black holes are surprisingly aesthetic for something that’s invisible. I’m missing a ton of data, actually. I just noticed.”
“All right, pet. I’ll see what can be done.” It’s not her pet. “We will still most likely not leave this ship, however. Regardless, good morning. Did you sleep well, or did something inspire your first question of the morning?”
“... Fine.”
“Good. Then you’ll be ready for an exciting day.”
“I think I won’t be, actually.”
“And why not?” She looks concerned. The inner segments of her vines have slowed significantly.
“...” Because Ember is still a prisoner, and still aware that it could be reduced to a husk at any moment. Even if it knows it isn’t going to become food (probably…) or be banished to mine radioactive substances to build Verda’s stockpile of personal atomics, the state of things is precarious.
“I’ll check you directly, if that’s what you want. Stay still, pet.”
With that, the affini who pretends to consider itself a woman launches itself at Ember, who barely has time to register that it ought to dodge. Impact isn’t jarring and Verda releases it after a few passes with some vines with strange flowers on the tips. It looks satisfied.
“You’re in good health, Ember. Is something else wrong?”
Ember doesn’t want to be here. It wants to be home, in space. It wants to have a loyal crew enjoying the cosmos with it, discovering new worlds and smiting xenos. Not all xenos, obviously. Just the bad ones who want to take over the universe. “Probably not.”
“Only probably? You’ll feel better once you have a bath and some clean clothes. You’ve been wearing those for two days and nights now.” She’s right, but it’s not fond of her solution. “After that, we’ll have breakfast. How do you feel about chocolate chip muffins?”
She lurks there, watching. That means Verda’s actually looking for an answer. This is another of her tricks, where she forces it to choose between sounding irrational (and thus worthy of being treated as a pet) or agreeing with her.
“Those sound good.”
“Excellent! I’ll compile them as soon as you’re finished with your bath.”
“I don’t want a bath.”
“Darling, if you don’t bathe you’ll have enough of a scent even other terrans will be able to smell you. It’s important to be clean.”
“Please, no.”
“Go into the bathroom now, Ember. This isn’t a negotiation.”
“...”
“-_-”
Fine. It goes and waits for its captor to join it. She takes less than three seconds, and when she arrives she’s carrying a yellow dress. So much for saying it’s not really a woman. The weed can’t even control itself. The mechanisms of automatic gendering affect even xenos.
Being washed doesn’t take very long, or at least Ember doesn’t think it takes long. The xenodrugs in the soaps make it hard to tell. It thinks that Verda didn’t use as many different floret scrubs today, which would mean it wasn’t as long. The fact that its mind seems mostly together still fills it with a tiny amount of optimism. Even if it doesn’t feel much like running away at the moment, it knows that’s just because of Verda messing with it. Once it gets back to normal, it’ll certainly be ready. For now, it mostly wants to hide under a blanket and drink hot chocolate, which is really weird. It doesn’t usually want that. Even when it was by itself it was never the snuggling type.
The affini practices all exist to erode individuality. They want uniform and obedient florets who will do as they’re commanded. Anything else is purged, or converted into florets who can’t do anything. Ember has to remember just how brutal they are. Terra is at stake.
A vine squeeze to the shoulder alerts the Terran to the fact that it’s now sitting at the table, which is a very bad sign. How did it not notice that it was coming there? What’s Verda going to do to it next? Aside from feeding it, of course. It’s hungry. The thought is instantly answered by a plate of hot and buttered muffins and a glass of orange juice. Naturally, the product of the compiler is delicious and it finishes at least two of the muffins. There’s no room for more, even if it kind of still wants chocolate. The temptation is removed by one of Verda’s sneakier vines before Ember can made a decision for itself.
“In light of our conversation last night, I think you should watch some videos from the Guide for Wards and Florets.”
“It’s boring.”
“These videos in particular should be interesting, pet. The sixty third and sixty fourth cover a topic that you’ll find interesting. If you’re willing to watch them for me, you can choose whether we talk extensively about how you feel about the contents or not. And then we can go for an outing.” The translation is… “Watch, or I’ll make you talk about this for twice as long, also we’re going somewhere you won’t like later.” This isn’t Ember’s lucky day.
“Hm.”
“Would you rather we watched them together, darling? We could cuddle while we did.” The slight spread in her forward vines indicates that she’d like that a lot. On the other hand, Ember mostly wouldn’t like that. It wouldn’t like that at all, since cuddling a xeno is on the border of treason. It doesn’t matter if the Accord doesn’t exist any more, it’s still treason. Especially if the xeno is soft and warm.
“I can watch.”
“Good. I have some things to attend to in my office. I’m within hearing should you need anything. On that subject, thank you for staying with me last night, Ember. I’m pleased you were able to refrain from attempting to escape again. Do you see how easy it is to be well behaved?”
“...”
It turns and walks to the couch without giving the affini more of a chance to praise it. Video 63’s button looks exactly the same as all of the others. Pressing it produces the same quiet beep. The floret sitting in front of the camera is a trans woman. The hair, styled in a way that only trans women who are first growing it out have, gives it away. Her voice is kind of weird too. Otherwise she looks good, especially for as early on as the hair suggests. She keeps looking off into nowhere in the middle of her speech. Her owner must be being really distracting, or she’s on too many xenodrugs to have any grip on reality, or both.
“Um, hi (limp waving), i’m… Carmen Florida, the… first floret of Rosa Florida. Tenth Bloom. i… My Mistress picked my name for me because i was taking too long. She picked a lot of other stuff too (the floret descends into a fit of giggles). I love my Mistress because she stopped me from being stupid. There was a long time when i thought it was wrong to be me, and i had to be somebody else, but it turns out that that was a way of lying to Mistress, and i’m not allowed to do that.
“We… Mistress found me when i was fighting against the Affini, telling everyone god wanted us to hate them. But She saved me from that, and from pretending to be a man. It was stupid, but i thought that was how i had to be. Everyone told me the same thing. Even if it hurt, i had to be strong, because being a man is painful. Even the men who fit in hated it. I believed that. Mistresses stopped me.
“My Mistress chose me as Her floret one day, and i call that the first day of my life. She takes very good care of me and won’t let me hurt myself. When i told Her not to give me xenodrugs, She did it anyway, and now i’m happy! They work (she points to her body). You can be happy too, if your Mistress gives you the right xenodrugs. Everything i didn’t know i didn’t like about my body is being fixed, thanks to Mistress. She’s the best affini i’ve met!
“After the xenodrugs, i kept fighting Her. I should’ve known better but… the lies were too deep in my mind. So She picked a name for me, and She picked clothes for me. Nothing of my old life is left, and i’m proud to be Her floret, and nothing else!
“Your mistress can make your body how you need it to be, even if you don’t know you need it to be that way. If you can’t find a name, your mistress can choose one for you. The Affini know best! Trust them. You’ll be so much happier… And tell them what you want! That makes everything faster. All they want is for their florets to be happy, they’re so good at it (it shudders and its eyes roll back into its skull).
“The… xenodrugs they use are better than Earth medicine. It works so fast… I’m on my third month. You can have surgery too, but that doesn’t come until later, until you know you want it. You can have as close to a cis body as you want, or if you don’t, not. It’s about what you need. I feel so good now… Mistress has made me so happy! Please don’t fight, friends. You’ll regret every day you waste.”
The omission of the alterations to sexual orientation was pure Affini. And what was the rest of that? It’s a direct confirmation that the weeds take away your identity one piece at a time to make you submit. It’s a classic cult tactic, of course. Destroying and rebuilding the identity of the member in an acceptable form is a very old trick. It works. How could they think they were being clever by presenting somebody whose name, gender, physiology, and even genitals were picked by them? With the level of subversion on display, Ember can’t be sure the person in the video is even a woman. What if they can use xenodrugs to make you think you’re a different gender. It shudders. Horrific. Florets bragging about their consent being rejected make it ill. They even took away this floret’s faith. That’s messed up, even if he (or she, if the weeds weren’t just messing with that floret’s brain) was deluded into false beliefs, his/her new beliefs aren’t founded on anything but chemicals of external origin.
Would Verda be willing to do that to her prisoner? Despite so many recent protestations, it can’t be sure that her intentions are pure. The affini adore their slaves, but only as slaves. They’re just dolls to these weeds, accessories who can’t be allowed real freedom so they don’t tear up a newspaper or pinch a roast from the counter. But she’s kept her word every time so far. The manipulation hasn’t been that bad, aside from a few instances, and even then she did seem to mean well.
The only problem is- there are two problems really. The first is that she’s still an affini and has their incorrect perspective on what’s right for Terrans. The second, obvious to anyone who’s been paying attention (as Ember certainly has), is that she’s not really doing what’s best for the happiness of her “darling.” She explicitly admitted some time ago that she knows it would be happier if it were granted freedom. She’s still not going to do that, of course. She’s chosen hypocrisy over disloyalty to her people. In a sense that’s admirable, but that’s not very helpful to Ember. But there’s yet another video to watch. It sighs and pushes the button to start it.
A tall and pale Terran is seated at a ceramic desk, hands clasped. She looks very serious but also confident, though she tries to smile as she starts talking. Presenting must be making her nervous.. Her eyes look wrong, clearly indicating the effects of xenodrugs, but they’re sharply focused. It’s a refreshing sight, but one that puts Ember on edge. Her clear and somewhat accented voice is like being dunked into cold water. On her left is an affini with a similar build but with five reddish gold eyes. Her vines drift to the sides at a modest and attentive pace.
“Good day to you, dear listeners. My name is Snowy Branch, first floret of Laden Branch, eleventh bloom. This is my mistress.”
The floret gestures to the affini.
“Because this subject is so important, I’m going to have help, though it’s primarily in case I miss something that needs to be said. The video will also probably be longer than many of the others in the series. I’m sorry, but I hope it’s worthy of your time.”
The affini squeezes the floret’s arm briefly.
“Those who live in the Affini Compact are very diverse. I’m sure you’ve only seen a tiny fraction of the different species who live here, each with different ideas and feelings, as well as biology. Just because the affini are everywhere doesn’t mean they’re all there is. My mistress is a xenopsychologist specializing in interspecies relations. Even when everyone wants to get along, the subject can be very complicated.
“The most important thing to remember when dealing with members of other species is that you should treat them with respect and assume good intentions. That by itself will defuse most conflicts. Of course, that’s not today’s subject. I’m going to be talking about a different point of cultural dissonance. My explanation will be a little convoluted because I’m addressing every former Terran citizen at once, but hopefully all will make sense by the end.
“Gender. Most humans have one. Most other species have it in some sense. One of our neighbors, a floret, is a giant insect, a worker, and is sexless but not genderless. There is a gender, or social role, that goes beyond the necessities of its biology. That’s what gender is, simply a set of social expectations in a society. Naturally, I have no idea how to treat it like its proper gender. The only thing I can offer beyond the same respect that everyone should have is respecting its pronouns. That isn’t usually a challenge when you don’t speak the same language, but it should be remembered just in case.
“Further, gender and sex aren’t identical, even if they’re very similar. The presenter of the video before this one, sixty three, if I remember correctly, should have explained all about that so I won’t have to. Because of all the assumptions regarding this and the structure of societies one isn’t familiar with, one shouldn’t assume the genders of those one meets. After all, it’s rather prideful to assume you’ll even be able to distinguish males and females of a species, assuming your guess that it’s divided that way is correct. A lot simply are not.
“I’ve been told that it’s common for freshly domesticated florets to project the cultural gender signifiers of their species onto other species. There’s nothing inherently ‘female’ about pink, as several extinct species of tropical bird on Earth would be able to demonstrate were they still around. The assumption is natural, and you shouldn’t feel guilty about making it, but you should remember to think twice before also applying social assumptions based off of that. Even the females of many other species don’t willingly accept the treatment which human women are often given. This has to be stated because it’s important and because that mistake is made more often than it should be. Please, be sensible. Don’t assume you know everything about aliens.
“Our owners, affini, aren’t subject to our personal ideas of gender either. They do their best to make themselves understood, but they usually don’t necessarily relate to those concepts on the intuitive level we do. Their gender identities are complicated and I’m really not equipped to speak on that topic.”
“But I am.” The affini’s voice is reminiscent of a windchime. “There isn’t much more to say. We often pick up the concepts of genders from our florets and carry those with us for centuries. Often those genders are difficult to translate so we approximate as best we can. That idea may be a little uncomfortable. Nothing but exposure, or becoming familiar with every single culture in the Compact, can change that. I personally believe our genders are no more mysterious than yours, but those are mysterious too, to an extent. If you don’t believe me, imagine yourself explaining how your gender identity works to somebody who has no knowledge of your culture or how your planet’s lifeforms operate.”
Snowy continues. “As my mistress said, gender is really weird and confusing if you don’t have a common reference frame through which to explain it. That’s why it’s so important to treat others’ genders with respect, and not to want an explanation of them every single time. You’re better off saving that for those you’re close to.
“If anything I said wasn’t clear, please start over and listen again. If it’s still not clear or if you disagree with the premises, ask your owner for clarification. This is important enough that you should devote effort to understanding.
“Now, I’ll introduce myself again. I’m Snowy Branch, (they/them). My mistress is Laden Branch, (it/its). We are both nonbinary.”
The snowflake lacks the self awareness not to be one in name as well as ideology. Well, there’s no more room for uncertainty about why Verda wanted it to watch this one.
“If you’re willing to accept that other species can be nonbinary already, the change in perspective necessary to accept nonbinary humans shouldn’t be that great.. In a sense, my gender is opaque to you and yours is opaque to me, no less than if we were different species. The only difference is that it’s slightly easier to explain. I will not do so, as that wouldn’t be a useful dispensation of my time or yours. Not everyone needs to be a man or a woman, and there’s no need to be upset if somebody is a gender you don’t entirely understand. It isn’t that difficult, but trying to have a clear understanding of the gender identity of everyone you meet is.
“The most challenging piece of this lecture is next. You, personally, dear listener, could be nonbinary.”
Ember is fairly sure that isn’t the case. You can’t just “be” “nonbinary.” That isn’t a thing.
“Perhaps you’re not. It’s not my place to determine that. Only you, or your owner, can. Often it’s very difficult to accept, as though you’re admitting to being worth less than those around you, an object. That isn’t the case. There’s a lot to be said, but in the interest of not presenting myself falsely as an expert, I’ll give the simplest test, which isn’t conclusive but is useful. Do you consider yourself a man? Do you like how you would be treated if those around you saw you as a man? What about a woman? No, you don’t have to settle for the lesser evil or tolerate one because you have to choose. You don’t have to choose. You don’t have to be either unless you want to. You could be both, technically, but I have no understanding of that.”
“It’s as simple as Snowy explained. To be both a man and a woman is to be both. It’s more common than most humans think.”
“Really, this is about what will make you happier. If making sacrifices comes into your thinking, you’ve already bypassed something important. Your gender and how you’re allowed to act shouldn’t be related, but the previous video should’ve already covered that. What’s most important is that your owner won’t love you even slightly less if you’re a different gender from what you believed yourself to be when you met. The affini are wonderful for their lack of prejudice. Treat yourselves well and treat those around you well. Enjoy your days, and goodbye.”
They both close the video by waving to the camera. “What a pathetic excuse for a Terran,” Ember fumes. How could the “floret” pretend not to be a woman? It’s ridiculous. And “mistress (it/its)?” How does that even work? It really doesn’t like this topic. There are two genders in humans. Maybe it’s true that xenos have different arrangements of genders and sexes, but that doesn’t apply to humanity. Then again, it should probably be more careful not to antagonize the affini. They do all kinds of other insane things and it doesn’t discuss it with them. That’s the end of the discussion.
Why do these weeds have so many bizarre fixations? Owning people, pronouns, “wellbeing,” “harm,” xenodrugs… There’s some mystery here. Despite the unpleasant descent into conspiracy, Ember can’t shake that feeling. It knows that there’s something going on. What?
Do weeds get drunk? Maybe it can get Verda to reveal her secrets that way.
And no, it doesn’t want to talk to Verda. She’s going to steal its gender because she doesn’t consider it a real person (though that admittedly is a contentious subject). This is just another one of their plots, or Verda’s just stupid and doesn’t understand because she doesn’t even have a real gender. The ridiculous weeds and their insane promotion of the most insane humans is highly destructive, which is their plan. They hate humanity and want to dismantle it. Ember will never allow that.
- 58
- 59
- 60
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Cellulose & Steel