Capacitors, cathodes and cuddles

'I wonder how many of those voltage probes I could get in my mouth' you think, looking around the repair bay for things to occupy your mind with. Next to you, your friend Cygnus squeezes your hand, seeking comfort. You squeeze back, giving it to them. 'The answer is infinity,' you think to yourself, 'because I didn't specify all at once.' You try not to laugh - Cygnus is tense and agitated and they need you and Zero-Four to be reliable pillars of comfort right now.

You're one of the few non-TV entities not intimidated by Cygnus, and they're one of the few non-human entities who can keep up with your bullshit, so the two of you had had little choice but to become friends. The other TV, Zero-Four, is more of a friendly acquaintance, but you do want to turn them into a friend. It's just unfortunate that so far you've only ever encountered them in situations where Cygnus is miserable.

You feel slightly tense and nervous yourself, but only in the sense of picking up on how your close friend (close as in a dear friend, and close as in right next to you) is feeling. You're not actually worried - you have full confidence in the medics to replace Cygnus's head-casing without incident. The hard part is already done, after all. After you… smashed Cygnus's screen (in self-defence from the actions of a manipulator skibidi)… the medics had stabilised them, repaired their internal components, and installed a temporary screen and casing. Now Cygnus is here to get their permanent replacement.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask Cygnus.

"No… Maybe. Oh, I don't know," replies Cygnus, looking at the floor. You and Zero-Four wordlessly lean into Cygnus, sat between you, and hug them as closely as you both can.

"Realistically," you say, "What is the worst that can happen?"

"…I'd rather not think about that," is Cygnus's reply.

"I was trying to make you feel braver about it," you say, stroking the back of Cygnus's hand with your thumb. "The medics already repaired you, and if anything does go wrong, you're in the best place for it with the best personnel for it."

"We'll both be in the room with you," points out Zero-Four. They disengage their hug to pet Cygnus's head instead. "And think how stylish you'll be once again." Cygnus's blocky grey temporary casing really doesn't flatter them.

A pair of TV medics enter the repair bay - one of them pushing a cart, bristling with tools, on top of which sits Cygnus's new head-casing.

"Oh, look at that," you say admiringly. Cygnus's new casing is the same style as their old one, with the block of the cathode ray housing at the front giving way to the angled cutaways of the yoke and electron gun housing. You want to reach out and pet it already! The biggest difference is the two recesses on the back, into which will slot a pair of rockets just like the Imperator's. With this, the Imperator has both punished Cygnus for their severe mishandling of their last mission (by giving them the responsibility of alpha-testing all upgrades to the Imperator's rockets), and given them a consolation prize for their injuries ("I expect you will enjoy the benefits of them," the Imperator had said).

Cygnus appears to have perked up a bit at your enthusiasm. Perhaps the sight of their 'old' casing and the calming presence of the medics is reassuring them. You notice Cygnus idly fidgeting with Zero-Four's hand as the medics explain the process of replacement, and talk Cygnus through the upgrades their casing has. (It seems it has more types of connectors than before, enabling Cygnus to connect to and display a greater range of inputs.)

"Have you given any thought to what style of aerial you want, if any?" asks one of the medics. "You don't have to decide right now - we can always fit one later."

Cygnus considers. They'd previously had a monopole aerial, but when you first met them they had only an internal one with no external receiver. You know that Cygnus did prefer the appearance of the external aerial, but had been surprised by how sensitive it was. (You enjoyed petting it but had to be careful about over-stimulating your friend.)

"As your personal style consultant," jokes Zero-Four, "I have a suggestion. Since you're going to have rockets like the Imperator's, why not follow their example and have a dipole aerial like theirs?" You make an approving clucking sound. The Imperator's aerial is so cute!

"Phaeton, I take it you approve of Zero-Four's suggestion too?" Cygnus asks you.

"Absolutely!" you say. "But you don't have to go through with it just because we like it. It's your head."

"I will go with the dipole, placed centrally," says Cygnus to the medic. "If I end up disliking it, I'll buy a replacement out of my own pocket." Cygnus seems a bit calmer than before. You guess talking about it with the medics is helping to ground them.

"We would like to bring in some medics from the other factions to observe," says one of the medics. "Do you object? This would be useful first-hand training for them." The TV faction's strike-and-retreat tactics mean that TVs are so rarely injured in battle -- in fact, Cygnus was probably the first real trauma case -- that very few medics will have had first-hand experience of treating an injured TV.

"…Alright, let them in," says Cygnus. "I suppose I should do what I can to be useful, after my actions." A hint of bitterness in their tone.

One of the medics directs Cygnus to lie on a repair bench, and directs you and Zero-Four where to stay out of the way. Another opens the door to admit a cluster of Camera and Speaker medics, as well as a large Camera unit presumably there to record high-quality video. The medic directs the new arrivals to stay near you and Zero-Four. They all observe you with polite interest - there really is still a living, unskibbed human.

One of the Camera medics waves to you and approaches you. "Question:" it signs, "Human recognise this?" It points to its tie, striped purple and yellow in contrast to the more sombre ties worn by the other medics.

You have seen an obnoxious tie like that before… worn by a brown-coated Camera-unit that you'd encountered when you were still living as a feral human, before you sided with the Alliance. You were going to scrap the unit for parts, until you noticed it was still alive (well, still animate. Techfolk don't have metabolic processes, so aren't 'alive' in the pedantic sense). Feeling sorry for it, you'd dug it out of the wreckage it was trapped in, hauled it back to a nearby Alliance base, and dumped it at their doorstep. You'd never seen it again… until now?

"…That was you?" you ask. "Were you that Camera I cut out of the fallen pylon?" (In retrospect, that must have been in the aftermath of the battle in which Titan Camera subdued the manipulated Titan Speaker. You hadn't known anything about that at the time - you'd just assumed the techfolk had devolved into in-fighting.)

"Affirmative," signs the unit, followed by a thumbs-up.

"Oh!" You're genuinely so glad to see them again. That encounter was the first time you'd realised techfolk were friendly. Before then, you'd assumed that they and the skibidis were largely as bad as each other. You accept their offered hug. "And I see you got retooled as a medic."

"Self better medic than combat," signs the unit. "Also… human inspire. Self aid others, as human aid self."

"…Wow. I'm really touched that that was what you took away from our encounter. By the way, calling me 'human' is fine - I am one. But I have a Camsign name now; it's 'Sun Driver'." (You make the signs as you talk.) "My written name is Phaeton - that's with P for piss, not F for flange. I also have an assigned serial: I'm Eighteen-Forty-Two. It's the atomic numbers of the chemical abbreviations that spell 'Homo'."

"Understood," signs the unit. "Self sign-name is 'Stripes'. Question: Sun Driver trains to be medic?"

"No, I'm an engineer," you say, "I'm here to give moral support to the patient. They're a close friend of mine."

"Nice encounter Sun Driver again," signs the Camera medic.

You and the stripe-tied Camera medic dock your communicators to exchange virtual 'business cards'. You'll have to catch up with them at some point - but right here and now your focus is Cygnus. The TV medics have been continuing their preparation during your conversation. It looks as though they're finally ready to begin the process itself.

"For the benefit of the recording, I will narrate," says the lead unit of the medic team. (You hear the large Camera's motor whirr as they begin recording.) "Initiating circuit blockage." The medic inserts a plug-like device into Cygnus's ventral charging port, on their pseudo-sternum, and turns the device to undo the seals on Cygnus's exo-plating. The medic inserts another tool into Cygnus's body cavity and docks it into some socket you can't really see from your position. The medic clicks a sequence of switches on the tool, evidently doing something to Cygnus's frame.

You haven't seen such a device in action before, but from your acquired engineering knowledge, you infer the medic is temporarily disabling Cygnus's pain receptors, effectively delivering the techfolk equivalent of local anaesthetic. You're a little surprised - you'd assumed that Cygnus would be switched off for the casing installation. (After all, whenever you change the casing on a human-made machine, you turn it off at the mains first.) However, you do know that full switch-off is usually done on techfolk only as a last resort, and the casing replacement will probably go easier in some ways if Cygnus is conscious and can immediately report if something feels off. Perhaps this is more like human brain surgery than changing the case on a human-made device.

"Releasing geminus holdfast," says the medic. "This is a non-standard part of the process when working on a TV. The patient has a geminus mechanism, absent in most TVs." You notice the Camera medics looking with increased interest, presumably pleased to be getting some extra knowledge. The TV medic begins extricating the clawed appendage at the base of Cygnus's head from the corresponding socket inside their body cavity. Cygnus's head and body have a prototype version of the same release mechanism seen in the TV Imperator - the Imperator's prototypes were still perfectly good as body parts, so back in the pool of parts they had gone. Cygnus and a few other TVs ended up with them in their shells.

The medics connect temporary cables to Cygnus's head and body so that their body will still be able to supply power to their head once it's detached, narrating the connections to the assembled guest medics as they do so. (You guess Cygnus's head is going to need some extra batteries or capacitors installed so that they'll be able to detach their head at will as the Imperator does.)

The medics begin the process of detaching Cygnus's temporary casing (you realise it's designed to easily come apart for this very reason). "This procedure involves the total replacement of the patient's outer casing and its integrated speakers, plus the teleport circuit and cathode ray assembly," explains one of the medics to the crowd of spectators. You realise that Zero-Four is shyly attempting to hold hands with you - you readily accept. Are they distressed by what your mutual friend is having to endure? Or do they think you are? Either way, that's very sweet.

Cygnus's head now has only the front panel of its temporary casing remaining, surrounding the glass funnel of the cathode ray assembly. A medic points out the various parts of the assembly, drawing attention to the anode connector and explaining that this parts presents one of the biggest risks when working with TV patients, because of the high risk of electric discharge. Meanwhile, another medic hooks up a temporary external monitor to Cygnus's body so that they will be able to use its screen and speaker while their own ones are removed.

The medics cut the power to Cygnus's own head - after a few seconds, the static on the little external monitor resolves into a grumpy emoticon. "I really hate this," says Cygnus through the monitor's tinny little speakers. You try not to laugh - it does look and sound quite funny.

"We must discharge the patient's head so that we can safely work on it," explains a medic, deploying a discharge device and explaining how to use it. "Even though the power is cut, we can expect the capacitors to still retain charge. At this point, keep only one hand in the workspace. If both hands are in the workspace, the current can take the path of least resistance between your hands, which will be via your own innards." You observe the guest medics take notes on their tablets. Zero-Four cringes next to you, and the large Camera recording this seems to flinch a bit as well (though its stabilisation mechanism holds its head perfectly steady as it does so).

The TV medic completes the discharge process - a loud CRACK is heard from Cygnus's head. "This is how we know the discharge was successful and the patient's head is now safe to work on," explains the medic. Cygnus displays a shocked emoticon on their temporary little screen. Presumably they can't still feel the discharge with no power going to their head, but it's probably alarming to be outside your own head and observe your actual head make a booming crack. (One of the Speaker medics makes a quietly alarmed honk, sounding like an electric cat trying to do an Owen Wilson impression.)

"Does the anode cap not have a bleeder-resistor?" you ask.

"It does not," says the medic.

"Oh great, I'm being anode-shamed," Cygnus says with joking sarcasm.

You're distracted by movement and shuffling sounds coming from the repair bay doors, as Polycephaly carefully wriggles their frame in without knocking and bashing any of the medical equipment or their array of sub-screens. (You're pleased to see they're already fully-repaired - you didn't see it yourself but you'd heard Polycephaly had taken some screen damage in the latest big operation.)

The Cameras and Speakers present appear to regard Polycephaly with mild trepidation, as Polycephaly walks in a half-crouch, part-crawl, sub-screens tucked in, to move somewhere they can observe Cygnus. You and Polycephaly vibe so well, it's easy to forget that they must be pretty intimidating to most non-TVs. (Interesting - the TV medics don't question why Polycephaly is here. Maybe they were invited? Or maybe Polycephaly does what Polycephaly wants, and everybody knows better than to challenge them.) Polycephaly moves near you and nods to you in acknowledgement.

"How are you, Polycephaly?" you ask quietly, so as not to distract anyone else.

"I am fine," Polycephaly replies, keeping their own voice down.

"On that, my friend, we are in agreement."

Polycephaly slightly tilts their main screen in mild confusion, as they decipher what you said. It dawns on them, and they give you a friendly pat. "Thank you. I needed that."

"Anytime."

Polycephaly nods in greeting to Zero-Four, then joins in watching Cygnus's repair. The medics continue their upgrades to Cygnus's head, explaining which parts of the cathode ray assembly are at greatest risk of electric discharge, and how the CRT connects to Cygnus's flyback transformer. They remove Cygnus's temporary teleport-circuit, and install a much beefier-looking one. (Cygnus displays a pleased-looking emoticon on the external monitor at the sight of that.) Some of the guest medics ask questions, the mute Cameras doing so by data transmission. The TV medics verbalise the questions for the benefit of the recording (and perhaps for you too, for which you're grateful) before they answer.

A TV medic leaves and returns with a cart on which is a box that turns out to contain Cygnus's new CRT assembly. The medic explains to the audience how these must be transported safely: in a protective container, and screen-down. The screen is actually the toughest part of the assembly, the neck of the funnel being much weaker and prone to snapping when not safely encased. The medics fit Cygnus's new CRT assembly in place along with the front panel of the new casing, explaining to the crowd the presence of the anti-implosion band. (You're grateful that exists. When you had to smash Cygnus's screen to stop a manipulator skibidi using their powers, the air rushed into the vacuum of their CRT and blew out several shards of glass. Without the implosion band it would have had a far greater damage radius.)

The medics eventually restore power to Cygnus's still mostly-caseless head, so they can check all systems are working as expected. They have Cygnus run through their test-card patterns, testing their timing circuits. You notice the glass vacuum tubes of the teleport-circuit start to load up with little tendrils of black mist - presumably once they've generated enough of the fog, Cygnus will be able to teleport again.

"Do you have any videos on your hard drives?" one of the medics asks Cygnus, who is now back in their own head. "If so, try playing one."

Cygnus can't turn their detached head to face you. "Turn my head to face the human, would you?" they ask. Two of the medics do so. Cygnus addresses you: "Phaeton, do you want to see the video of that pointy thing exploding?"

"I very much want to see the video of that pointy thing exploding," you say.

Cygnus plays you the video of the WWII allies blowing up the Zeppelinfeld swastika on the Nuremberg Stadium.

"Bwoo ha ha-haaa!" you laugh at the sight, as usual. (You're not sure Cygnus quite comprehends the significance of that video, but they enjoy how much you enjoy it.)

One of the medics asks you: "…Did the playback on that look correct to you?"

"Hell yeah," you reply.

The medics finally finish re-assembling Cygnus's head-casing and re-attaching their head's geminus mechanism to their body. Oh, what a lovely sight - your friend finally looks like themself again. The dipole aerial and the rear rockets suit them better than you were expecting! The medics finish disconnecting all the temporary cabling and re-enabling Cygnus's sensors and receptors, before closing up all their plating.

Cygnus displays a happy emoticon, then realises - "Oh, I have more colours for these than I did before." Cygnus turns their head to face you and Zero-Four, and displays a heart emoticon in hot-pink for you both. How cute! "Hello, Polycephaly," Cygnus says to the large TV.

"Hello little budgie," says Polycephaly. (They'd called Cygnus that once after misremembering what kind of bird you'd named them after, and it had stuck.) "Oh! What happens to a budgie that needs repairs? Tweetment."

Everyone in the room with the speaker-cones (or vocal chords) to do so groans. (The large Camera does a thumbs-down.)

"Everyone in the room is now 15% stupider for having heard that," you say.

Polycephaly slightly bucks their sub-screens in a gesture that you think denotes amusement. "I came here to give you a top-up," Polycephaly says to Cygnus. Polycephaly's screen turns black, but not the passive black of a screen switched off - this is a deep, rich black that looks both void and alive. A morass of teleport-fog spools off Polycephaly's screen and flows towards Cygnus's.

"Thank you, Polycephaly," says Cygnus. "Actually, could you take a bit back?" Cygnus is dripping with black fog, making their outline blurry and distorted. Polycephaly evidently was more generous with teleport-energy than Cygnus's circuit could handle.

"Skill issue," jokes Polycephaly. They repeat their gesture in reverse - black fog neatly flowing out of Cygnus's screen and back into Polycephaly's. The large TV clearly has very precise control over the void-energy. "All good?" they ask.

"Much better," confirms Cygnus. "Thank you again - I feel as though I could port all the way to the Moon."

The assembled guest medics and the large Camera begin to depart - you notice another TV arriving to escort them. One of the TV medics explains to Cygnus where and when to report tomorrow for extensive training in using their new rockets. The Imperator will want useful telemetry data sent to the scientists. Polycephaly patiently waits until the medic finishes, then gives Cygnus, you and Zero-Four a quick hug goodbye (to your delight and to Zero-Four's surprise), before they take their leave and vanish in a column of black fog.

Finally, Cygnus is dismissed. Cygnus and Zero-Four collectively port the three of you to Cygnus's quarters, the two TVs keeping each other safely on the void-pathway.

"You look so lovely again," you say to Cygnus with quiet admiration.

Cygnus holds you close. "…Thank you," they say. "…For everything. And I'm sorry-"

"Hey," you interrupt, "I already said you were forgiven. If you want me to comfort you, you can just ask for that, you know? You don't have to keep apologising."

"…Oh, Phaeton." Cygnus squeezes you gratefully. "I already said I was sorry for putting you in danger, I know… and for screaming at you afterwards. But I'm sorry that this ended up with me getting an upgrade and you getting a disfigurement. That seems all the wrong way around."

"Shit happens, my friend. That's what you TVs like to say, isn't it?"

"…Shit happens indeed." Cygnus squeezes you again. "…But I'm going to feel guilty all over again every time I see your hand."

"…Well. What is it you want? Do you want me to shout at you? Do you desire the catharsis of punishment?" You rub Cygnus's back. Cygnus says nothing. They probably don't know what they want, you reckon. "Do you remember our agreement?" you continue. "We decided we'd hash out disagreements as they happened instead of letting them fester. Because I remember. Are you afraid that I'm secretly bottling up resentment and one day I'm going to lash out at you?"

Cygnus gently disengages from you so they can look at you face to face. "I don't know. Maybe? I do feel… strange about how well you're taking this."

"Well, there's something else we've both said to each other in the past: 'This is something you have to solve, but I'll help you through it'." You pull Cygnus into another hug.

"You're a good friend, you know," Cygnus says quietly, embracing you and pulling you close to them. A purr rises in your throat at Cygnus's words.

"Would it make you feel any better to know that my hand will heal more over time?" you ask. "The scar tissue will go from reddish to a more neutral colour closer to the rest of my skin. If I'm lucky it might even go kind of silvery." You nuzzle against Cygnus. "Go hug Zero-Four. They've been patiently waiting all this time."

To your pleasant surprise, Cygnus doesn't disengage from you fully - they extend an arm to invite Zero-Four to join in your hug. Zero-Four moves in to hug you both.

"Oh, you are soft," exclaims Zero-Four. You must be the first non-techfolk they've hugged.

"What would I do without you, my friends?" asks Cygnus quietly as they hold you both.

"You don't have to worry about it," says Zero-Four. "I'm not going anywhere as long as you still need me." How sweet!

You rub your head against Cygnus to show you feel the same way as Zero-Four. "I want to sit down," you say, moving to the sofa. The two TVs join you, and the three of you settle into a cuddle.

"Phaeton, can I ask…" begins Cygnus, "How did you kill the skibidi? I couldn't perceive anything with… my screen and focusing coils broken."

"I slammed it on the ground until it stopped moving. And then I kept on slamming it on the ground. …If it hadn't been for you snapping me back to reality, I probably wouldn't have been able to stop until it was pâté, or my shoulder joint was. …Don't worry, it is definitely dead. It can't hurt anyone any more." You squeeze Cygnus in a reassuring manner. "And with the recent big hit to the skibidi operations… maybe that means no more of them will be created." Cygnus seems to relax a little on hearing this. "I did think of grabbing it when the Titan rescued us, so the scientists could study it, but I decided to leave it behind. I was afraid the skibidis would somehow be able to track it back to TV Base. Plus, it was pretty much burger meat by the time I was done with it." (It's probably been eaten by wildlife by now, you reckon. You just hope that isn't a possible vector for further skibidification.)

"I was curious about that too," says Zero-Four. "I'm glad you asked so I didn't have to."

"On a different subject entirely," you say, "Zero-Four, do you have a nickname? You called Cygnus 'Niner'; did they name you in return?" (The sum of Cygnus's serial digits is nine.)

"No. I don't think that's Niner's style," replies Zero-Four, patting Cygnus affectionately. Well, they're not wrong - your own name, Phaeton, was your own creation. Cygnus never called you anything other than 'human' before that.

"May I give you one?" you ask.

"What did you have in mind?" asks Zero-Four.

"I was thinking of 'Fornax'. When I named Cygnus, I was thinking of real-life swans-" (you'd chosen Cygnus's name because the '22' in their serial reminded you of 'two little swans') "-but it's also the name of a constellation. Fornax is another constellation. And, you know, 'Four' as in the number and the 'For' in Fornax sound much the same in English."

"I'll allow it," replies Zero-Four. (That's mildly amusing. Those were Cygnus's exact words too when you first suggested their name. Cygnus and Zero-Four - Fornax - must have been friends long enough to have influenced each other's speech habits.)

Cygnus disengages their hug from Fornax, then pivots to sit lengthwise along the sofa, pulling Fornax with them (with a soft "C'mere") so that Fornax ends up sitting in front of Cygnus. Cygnus squeezes Fornax from behind - how cute! Fornax displays a delighted emoticon and buzzes their speakers happily. To your surprise (and presumably Fornax's) Cygnus then detaches their own head, lifting it off their shoulders (aided by a boost from their new rockets). Cygnus's head hovers in place long enough to rotate 180 degrees and face the other way, then lowers to settle into Fornax's lap. Cygnus resumes cuddling Fornax from behind as Fornax strokes and pets Cygnus's head in their lap. How lovely this must be for them! You're a little envious of Fornax getting to be the filling of a Cygnus sandwich, but your meat frame probably couldn't comfortably bear the weight of Cygnus's head. CRT screens are hefty!

You wedge yourself in close so you can join in petting Cygnus's head. "May we pet your new aerial?" you ask.

"Oh, please do," says Cygnus.

You cautiously pet Cygnus's aerial, remembering how sensitive their previous one was. "Does this feel alright?" you ask.

"It really does," says Cygnus. Encouraged by this, Fornax joins in the petting.

"Do you think your old aerial was more sensitive because it was just one pole?" you ask. "Now that you have two, the sensation is more spread out and less concentrated, maybe?"

"It could be," concedes Cygnus. You get the impression they don't really care why; they just want the pettings to continue.

"You said you screamed at Phaeton?" asks Fornax.

"…That I did," admits Cygnus. "And they've been far more gracious about it than I deserved."

"Oh, Niner. That is one of your worst traits," says Fornax, rubbing between the poles of Cygnus's aerial. "When you're angry or upset, you lash out and say things calculated to hurt." You're getting some idea of what Cygnus and Fornax meant about "bringing out each other's worst traits" when in a romantic relationship.

You pet Cygnus's head in sympathy, rubbing one of the top edges.

"I have to go back to work soon-ish," says Fornax. "Niner, I've got time for a spar and sharpen before I go. Do you want to?"

"I'd like that," says Cygnus, hugging Fornax from behind.

Oh, you'd like to see this!

"Any conditions?" asks Fornax.

"…Loser fucks winner?" suggests Cygnus.

Oh, you really want to see this!

Fornax emits an alarmed burst of static at Cygnus's forwardness. Cygnus has become a lot bolder since you first became friends - and you're delighted that that's the influence you've had on them! Fornax's screen goes from jerky bands of surprised static to calm, then resolves into a delighted emoticon. "…I accept your conditions," they say.

You move to a comfy position on the sofa as Cygnus and Fornax get up (Fornax picking up Cygnus's head and helping them replace it) and prepare to spar. The two TVs draw their wrist-blades, then perform the ritualised motion of 'introducing' their blades by bringing them together until they're almost touching, then pulling them back slowly and smoothly. Cygnus and Fornax then face each other in combat stance. You watch raptly.

You're surprised by how well Fornax can hold their own. Cygnus is trained as a field agent (although they are a currently disgraced one), and you expected them to have an advantage over Fornax because of that. But then, you don't know what Fornax trained in before their current job in the tailoring division. (Maybe all TVs have some field agent training? Maybe that's like boot camp for them.) The two TVs spar with apparent deftness, though you wonder how much of it is skill and how much is the ingrained choreography from two fighters who are well used to each other's moves.

They dart back and forth at each other, in attempted strikes-and-retreats. (You assume that if they were fighting in earnest they'd be making use of teleportation.) You keep thinking one of them is going to win, until the other bends and weaves out of the way of the incoming blade. The air is punctuated by metallic slaps and claps as the two TVs deflect each other's blades.

Eventually… Cygnus triumphs. (The part of you that thinks cynical things wonders if Fornax threw the match to ensure they'd get back to work on time.) Cygnus holds their blade, just short of where it would have struck in a real fight. "Do you yield?" they ask.

"I yield," says Fornax, sheathing their blades with a decisive clack.

Cygnus does likewise with their own blades. They move their hands in to start unbuttoning their coat. "Do you want to?" Cygnus asks softly.

"…I do," says Fornax.

"Then…" says Cygnus, stroking the front of Fornax's coat with the back of a hand, "May I fuck you anyway?"

"You are a gracious winner," says Fornax, undoing their coat and shirt buttons. Your junk is suddenly very hot and damp at the sight.

Both Cygnus and Fornax are unbuttoned now, and sliding back the covers on each other's charging ports. You involuntarily moan at the sight, the sound fluttering as you quiver with excitement. The two TVs proceed to massage around and on each other's charging ports - you realise your breath is becoming rapid and shallow and force yourself to breathe properly. Your junk beads with pooling warmth as its folds start gathering slickness.

Cygnus and Fornax draw their blades once again, and each TV slides one and then both blades into the other's charging port socket. Both their screens dissolve into formless static, the white noise zipping faster and more frenetically than usual. They both make delighted trills of audio static as they push their blades back and forth. To your delight, Fornax is treating Cygnus right - you know just how Cygnus likes it, blade pushed rapidly in and then drawn out slowly, and Fornax is giving them what they need. There's nothing for it - you need to masturbate. (If someone fucks in front of you, that's surely implied carte blanche for you to do that.) You unzip and start rubbing yourself off as you watch the two TVs thrust and writhe and hiss joyfully. Fornax seems to prefer to receive a more complex pattern of pushing, with Cygnus repeatedly pushing the blade tip in at an angle before turning their blades to push them home fully in one smooth, languid movement. Oh, you want to get up and hug them both, but you absolutely need to give yourself some attention…

You breathe harder as you feel your body charging itself up for release. Cygnus and Fornax continue to knife each other's charging ports, emitting droning static buzzes in their lust. You feel the orgasm-buildup start to manifest in more and more parts of you, as though they're reporting for duty - first in the core of your abdomen, spreading further and further outwards until it has nowhere else to go except tunnel into your thighs and your buttocks, then further down into your calves… all the while piling up behind your junk.

First Fornax, then Cygnus, shudders in ecstasy. You're getting so worked up at the sight… you're losing yourself in your sensations and are only vaguely aware of the TVs having finished.

"Wait for it," Cygnus quietly says to Fornax.

You're getting closer - your orgasm-energy is building up and piling up, like hot caramel cascading into a vessel and forming a warm heap that quickly collapses and flattens and spreads to find the limits of its container.

You don't quite hear what Fornax says, but Cygnus's familiar voice is clearer: "Oh, you'll know it when you see it."

Your mind fills with a replay of the delightful performance you've just seen, with two pretty TVs passionately pleasuring each other and revelling in it.

You cum, shuddering out a moan that quickly builds up into a roar as you frantically bring yourself home with your fingers. The pent-up orgasm-energy trapped in your body and limbs flows out of you through your junk, making you writhe until you are spent.

Fornax displays a shocked and surprised emoticon on-screen. You guess they weren't expecting a human orgasm to be that intense. Cygnus displays a smug emoticon. I told you so.

Luckily, you happen to have some tissues with you in your pocket. You get yourself cleaned up. As you do so, Cygnus and Fornax move onto the sofa so they can sharpen each others' blades - a courtesy after sparring. You always enjoy watching TVs do that, moving their oilstones over each other's blades to sharpen and hone the edges.

"Well, no wonder I won," comments Cygnus. "Your oilstone's in terrible condition. Where have you been keeping it; in a skibidi's bowl? I've done your blades the best I could with it, but you need a new one." (You laugh as Fornax grumbles.)

Once the two TVs have sharpened each other's blades and reclaimed their own oilstones, Fornax announces that they have to leave to return to work. (Luckily, you have the day off, and Cygnus has been medically ordered to rest for today.)

"Ah'll sithee, Fornax," you say, as the three of you hug goodbye.

Fornax pauses. They're not sure what that means.

"It means I'll see you later."

"Oh… In that case… ah'll sithee, Phaeton. And ah'll sithee, Niner." Fornax departs in a cloud of black fog.

You cuddle against Cygnus. "Are you able to port me back home, please? I need a proper bio-break and some food."

"Of course," says Cygnus, as you both get up. Cygnus picks up their tablet, communicator, and favourite charging cable, and pockets them, then holds you firmly to initiate the teleport. The two of you spawn in your quarters. "Can I stay with you today?" asks Cygnus. If the two of you are going to hang out, it makes sense to do it at your place. Your quarters has several things that organics need that are missing from Cygnus's.

"I'd love that!" you say. You'd assumed Cygnus was going to ask that, based on the things they just brought with them, and you're happy to be proven right. "I'm going to faff around in the bathroom for a bit and then I'll need some scran. If you feel like being useful, would you get some water boiling? It's noodle time for Phaeton."

Once you're done with your bathroom break, you enter the kitchen and find that not only has Cygnus boiled the kettle but they're slicing some scallions. Oh hell yeah. The two of you chat as you prepare and eat your noodles (with sauce, veggies and protein) and then tidy up afterwards.

"What comes after noodle time?" asks Cygnus.

"Cuddle time?" you ask.

"A fine suggestion," says Cygnus. The both of you head to your bed and (after taking a moment to de-shoe) lie down and gather up each other in your arms.

You and Cygnus snuggle wordlessly for a time. After a while, you ask: "How are you feeling? I expect you're tired."

"I'm actually fine," says Cygnus. "I've been upgraded and all charged up. If you wanted to do something together, I am ready."

"Could I help you break in your new screen? …Oof, 'break in' was probably an insensitive choice of words. Sorry, buddy."

"I got your meaning," Cygnus says, displaying a reassuring smiling emoticon. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'd like to hook up one of my consoles and play one of my favourite videogames with you. It's a solo game, so we'd go level-or-life - every time the player dies or completes a level, we swap which of us has the controller."

"What game is it?"

"It's called 'Bogrol the Barbarian'. It's been somewhere in my top ten games ever since I was a teen, and I still like to play all the way through it once or twice a year. Basically, you play as an angry human decking all the owl people who get in your way. The owl people stole Bogrol's hat and she very much wants it back."

"Why do the owl people want a human's hat?"

"It's never really explained; the plot is just a flimsy pretext for fucking shit up." The story isn't really why this game is one of your favourites.

"Alright, I'll give it a go."

"I'm thinking we'll make it more interesting. Whoever's not playing fucks the one who is. Good luck concentrating."

"…You're right, that does make it more interesting." Cygnus buzzes their speakers softly, as if purring.

You sit up and scoot over to unplug the console from your (normal, non-techfolk) telly and hand Cygnus the AV cables. They get set up connecting themself. "How about I go first so you've got an idea what to expect from the game?" you say. "I'll load my mid-game save and play with that, then when it's your turn you can start a new game if you want to play through the tutorial area."

"Sure, why not?"

You sit on the bed opposite Cygnus and load the game, going into the options menus to adjust the display so that the game output is right in the middle of Cygnus's screen with no cut-off edges.

"One moment," says Cygnus. (Were you presumptuous? Should you have asked them to adjust their own display?) Cygnus lifts their own head off their frame, and places it on the bed in front of you. With some hesitation and fumbling, Cygnus moves their headless body behind you and then hugs you to them from behind, bracketing you cosily. Oh! This is very welcome! "Comfy?" asks Cygnus's head in front of you.

"Absolutely!" you say happily, leaning back against Cygnus's warm bulk. "What about you?"

"This is very nice," Cygnus says, giving you a gentle squeeze with their body. "It's very strange being bisected like this, though. I can't imagine how the Imperator does it with such apparent effortlessness."

"I guess it helps that they have their two guards to make sure nothing bad happens to their body while it's operating blind." You pat Cygnus's hands that are clasping you. "And you've got me for that." Cygnus displays a heart emoticon, overlaying it on the game display. "Oh, I didn't know you could do that," you say. "No cheating by displaying a load of crap on top of the game, okay?"

"Agreed."

"Are you okay with your head sitting directly on the bed like that, or do you want something more solid under you? I've got some MDF sheets in the workshop."

"Would you, actually?" replies Cygnus.

You reach out with your foot and give the side of Cygnus's head a brief pat with it, then get up and select a nice chunky panel of MDF to be a solid surface for Cygnus. Cygnus leans their body forward to lift their own head up so you can slide the panel underneath.

"Oh, that is better," says Cygnus. "Thank you."

The two of you resume your earlier position, with Cygnus's body leaning back against the headboard, while you recline against them. "Are you comfortable?" asks Cygnus. It's strange hearing your friend's voice coming from their head in front of you, while their body hugs you from behind.

"Very," you say, then start the game. ("Let's kick some cloaca!" declares the voice of Bogrol the Barbarian.) You start playing a mission with Bogrol laying down her homemade explosives to bring down an owl mining operation, aided by her flying sidekick.

"Bogrol is the enemy of the owls but she has an owl travelling companion. Is that ever explained?" asks Cygnus, dimming the game audio slightly to make their own voice clearer.

"It's all in the game manual," you say. "She was raised by rebel owls - that's why she can glide even though she's a human. The owl riding on her shoulder is her adopted brother."

"…How does being raised by owls make a human able to glide?"

"It's a videogame, Cygnus. Don't think about it too hard. So, did you still want to fuck, or just play this game?"

"Do you want to fuck? Normally when you're aroused I can see your crotch getting warmer-" (TVs' vision extends into the infra-red) "-but you look to be at normal heat right now."

"You're right, I'm not very horny right now," you reply, making Bogrol decapitate some evil owls with her axe. (You make her shuffle a bit so the movement kicks their severed heads around.) "But I reckon you know by now how to fix that."

Cygnus clasps you to them a little tighter, then starts moving their hands over you. With one hand, Cygnus gives you a belly rub, moving in little circles from your hips to the mid-point above your crotch. Your breathing becomes a little heavier as Cygnus gently kneads a handful of you, stroking with their thumb. Meanwhile, Cygnus's other hand works your thighs, rubbing back and forth in slow, deliberate motions. You're starting to feel a bit squirmy…

A purr rises in your throat as Cygnus moves a hand to your crotch, and starts rubbing you through the fabric of your trousers, moving their hand from one of your inner thighs to the other, pressing down a little firmer on your crotch in passing. You snort with satisfaction at Cygnus's touch as you continue playing the game. They'll need more than that to break your concentration…

"Your junk's all soft and cute when it's flaccid," says Cygnus, tickling you through your trousers. "But it's cuter still when you're all worked up."

You squeak with delight as Cygnus unzips your trousers and moves a hand down to stroke your bush. Your grip on the controller tightens briefly. Cygnus seems to be enjoying the texture of your pubes - they've commented before that the hairs feel soft but also like tiny little wires. Cygnus pushes their hand further down and begins massaging your junk, stroking it with a single finger first, probing the warm folds they find, before kneading your glans in earnest. Ohh. You're honestly not aroused enough for this to be hot, but it is deliciously warm. Instead of being riled up and wanting to buck and grind, you feel relaxed like a cat oozing in a sunbeam.

Your junk is pleasantly slimy and feels glow-y by the time you manage to finish the mission in the game. You save the game and exit to the main menu so Cygnus can have a go.

"Would you unplug the cables in my head?" asks Cygnus. "I want to put my head back, and I don't want to risk pulling your games machine to the floor."

You do so, pulling the AV cables out of the ports in Cygnus's head. You're about to ask if Cygnus would like any assistance with replacing their head - when Cygnus solves that issue themself by protracting their geminus coupling (the clawed appendage under their head), boosting their head into the air with it. Their rockets take over, and Cygnus's head flies back to join their body. What a hoot! (You're sure they'll do just fine at the rocket training tomorrow.) You pass Cygnus the AV cables so they can reconnect them. Cygnus starts a new game from the title menu, and you both watch the cutscene of owls stealing Bogrol's hat, and Bogrol swearing bloody revenge.

"Gonna rip off your beaks and shit down the holes!" says Bogrol via Cygnus's speakers.

"That seems disproportionate retribution over just a hat," comments Cygnus.

"Well, she's a barbarian," you point out. "Plus, it was a very nice hat."

"Can I do the tutorial levels without any fucking?" asks Cygnus. "Once I know how to play this, then you can try to distract me."

"Good idea. Most players die a couple of times in the tutorial anyway."

In Cygnus's case, it turns out to be more than a couple. It's… frustrating watching Cygnus play this game. To your surprise, they're really not very good at it. They don't seem to retain the tips the game gives them, struggling with things that the game already told them about. Nor do they seem to make the necessary extrapolations from deliberately incomplete information, giving up easily instead and walking away from treasure. They fumble sequences of button-presses that you really didn't think were that tricky.

"You look unimpressed," comments Cygnus. "Did you assume that just because I'm a television, I'd automatically be good at video games?"

"Actually, yeah, kind of?"

"Well, you're made of meat. Does that make you automatically good at surgery?"

"I see your point," you say. "Can I punch in the cheat code for infinite health? Then you'll only die if you walk off a cliff or something." Cygnus agrees it's a good idea, and you do so. As you press the sequence of buttons, you say: "Urgh, I need a crap but I can't be bothered getting up. Can you teleport my turds out of my rectum into my toilet for me?"

"…I… cannot begin to explain how much porting does not work that way," says Cygnus as they take the controller back from you.

You cackle. "I didn't actually think you could do that. Back in a min, I gotta go before I autograph my gusset." You get up and head for your bathroom. "Oargh, fuckin' hell…" you exclaim as you drop your guts. "Be grateful you're a tele-vision and not a telly-smelly."

"…Indeed," replies Cygnus from the bedroom.

You get sorted out, and return fresh and clean. You pet Cygnus's head for a bit and then watch them complete the tutorial area and start the adventure proper. Time to get to work.

You unbutton Cygnus's shirt so you can nuzzle around their charging port, then nose the cover open. You nuzzle the exposed charging port itself, prompting Cygnus to emit a happy trill of static. You stroke Cygnus's sides with your hands as you plant a kiss on their charging port - Cygnus briefly takes their hand off the controller to stroke your head in appreciation. You huff your warm mammal breath into Cygnus's charging port, making them shudder with delight. (From the sounds of the game, you can tell they're doing pretty badly - they'd surely have got deaded by now if you hadn't enabled the cheats.)

You hug Cygnus, then cobra upwards to surprise them with a kiss on their screen. You nuzzle into the groove where the curved edges of the glass meet the casing. Cygnus returns your hug briefly, one hand still on the controller. Once they loosen their grip, you duck down again to nuzzle Cygnus's charging port a little more.

You huff your breath into Cygnus's charging port once more, enjoying the quietly excited static coming from their speakers, obscuring the game audio slightly. You form a seal on the charging port with your lips, flexing your cheek muscles to increase and decrease the air pressure inside the socket. The novelty of the sensation makes Cygnus shiver with enjoyment. "You know," you remark, pulling your mouth away so you can talk, "I'm surprised they didn't give you a bigger charging port. I would have thought you'd need one to juice up your extra capacitors."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Cygnus says, their voice quiet and strained with pleasure. (It'd probably be a much hotter sound if not for the backdrop of cartoony violence from the game.)

"I would," you say, "I'd love to jam my fingers and tongue right in here."

Cygnus purrs their speakers appreciatively.

You and Cygnus continue the game like this, Cygnus playing on easy mode with health cheats on and you playing on 'owlmageddon' mode with normal damage on. In this way, you're actually fairly evenly matched for speed of level progress and frequency of deaths. Neither of you cum, but nor are you remotely frustrated by this - your aim was to enjoy playing a videogame while receiving handsy cuddles. This feels cosy and lazy, just perfect for a day off work.

"I'm kind of all gamed out," admits Cygnus after a while, as they find a save point and pause the game. "Thank you for showing it to me, but I'm going to tap out at this point," they say, pulling out the AV cables so you can reconnect them to your normal telly.

You connect the cables so you can shut the console down. "Might as well stop here," you say. "I'd like another food break. What did you want to do next?"

"…I'm just happy to spend time with you," says Cygnus, displaying a beaming emoticon. "We don't get enough days off together." You quite agree.

Luckily, you have some tasty leftovers in the fridge you can reheat. You do so and prepare a tray of it plus some fresh fruit and other snacks. You bring it back to the bedroom and you and Cygnus chat about interesting things that have happened lately in your respective jobs. There's a limit to what Cygnus can tell you, because things like troop movements are on a need-to-know basis. You're always pleased to hear that inter-faction operations are going well, though, thanks to Cygnus and their equivalents in the other two factions. You're not sure Cygnus quite understands a lot of the things you're learning in your ongoing engineering training in the Titan's maintenance crew, but they seem very pleased for you that you enjoy it so much.

The two of you take the opportunity to cuddle and snuggle some more. Cygnus gives such reassuring and cosy hugs… "Would you use your screen hypnosis on me?" you ask Cygnus.

"…Are you sure you want me to?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"I've shown poor judgement recently…"

"I trust you completely, Cygnus - I never stopped. I know you'll be careful with me; you always are. …Oh Cygnus, were you worried you'd broken my trust? I'm sorry I made you think that." You snuggle into Cygnus. Dear Cygnus.

"…Phaeton, I'm touched." Cygnus returns your cuddles.

"Also… the last time I saw your screen turn purple-" you begin, before Cygnus hugs you more fiercely, surprising you into silence.

"I know," Cygnus says quietly. They know what you're referring to - the manipulator skibidi hijacking their hypnosis powers. You'd like to 'cleanse' that experience by having an uncorrupted Cygnus hypnotise you consensually. You're so gratified by how well Cygnus gets you.

Cygnus extricates themself from your hug, and strokes your side to direct you to lie the way that's easiest for them. The two of you lie on your sides, facing each other. Cygnus waits for you to arrange a pillow under your head. "Are you ready to begin?" they ask.

"I am," you say. "Make me yours to command."

Cygnus's screen turns that familiar beautiful purple. It's a colour that makes you feel safe and loved. You're briefly aware of the feel of your limbs flopped and relaxed on the bed, then all your physical sensations fade away as you drift into the purple, violet and magenta void.

It feels more intense than usual. Maybe it's just been a while… or maybe Cygnus's new screen is more powerful than their original one.

You fall through the purple void, letting your consciousness drift blissfully apart. You don't think you've ever felt this relaxed and at peace.

"Stop that,"

says the void.

Rude. The void's never interrupted your good time before.

"No, I will continue,"

you assert.

"I came here to drift and to indulge and to dissolve."

As is your right.

"You must not. Before you lose yourself. You must return."

But why? You want to dissolve. Being separated from the void feels like a temporary embarrassment that you want to correct and smooth out as soon as possible. You are the void and it is you - who is it to tell you you can't dissolve into it, like salt into water? This is who you are, this is where you're meant to be.

"STOP"

says the voice of the universe.

"Don't tell me what to do. I am in control here,"

you fight back.

"You are not in control. You think you are. You are not. You are dissolving."

"I want to."

You do want to.

You want to be one with the void. Having it fight back like this feels jarring, as if something is clipping through reality.

"YOU DO NOT"

"WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHO TO BE. WHY WON'T YOU LET ME DISSOLVE"

"You need to stop. You're having a meltdown-"

"NO SHIT I'M HAVING A MELTDOWN. WHY ARE YOU FORCING ME TO STOP. WHY"

"I am sorry, Phaeton. I have to take control for your own good."

It feels as though your mind has been plunged into lava-
or ice-
or one then the other then both-
and you crack with the thermal shock-
and someone picks up the pieces and rearranges them-
and their touch feels like burning-
feels like eroding you-
and then-

the pieces of you cool. They're still lying there rearranged wrongly, but they feel cool and still and not disintegrating any further. But you feel broken and mixed up and disoriented and you don't know how to put yourself back together-

"I am sorry, Phaeton," says the voice of the universe, though it sounds less like the universe than it did before.

Whose voice is it?

Something comes nearer and
Picks up the pieces and
Puts you back together and
It feels bad and
You want to tell it to stop and
You don't know how and

Where are you now?

"Phaeton, I am so sorry," says Cygnus, quiet and sorrowful. "I'm so sorry… you only wanted to relax, and that happened. Oh, you must feel awful. I'm so, so sorry I made you feel that way."

All the rage and nausea and resentment you felt towards the universe melts away. The void is a creation of the two minds that generated it, but it's not real, not really.

There's only you and Cygnus.

You cling tightly to Cygnus, pressing into them and squirming as if you could burrow into them. The two of you lie like this for a time, silent except for your quiet crying and the occasional sorrowful crackle of static from Cygnus.

When you feel up to talking again, you say to Cygnus quietly, "I think your new screen is more powerful than we realised."

"It is," says Cygnus. "It was irresponsible of me to try my power on you with no practice."

"Neither of us knew that would happen."

"I should have done. Oh, my poor, dear Phaeton…" Cygnus squeezes you as tightly as they dare (part of the back of your mind wonders if this is for your comfort or theirs). "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty bad," you admit, "I feel as though I'm on the verge of a panic attack. I'll get over it. If you just keep holding me, I know I'll be alright." Your voice is becoming clipped and strained, and you quiver. "Can you… play some soft static for me? And rub my back? To give me something nice to focus on."

Cygnus does just that, dimming their screen too (which you didn't even ask for, but they correctly guessed you'd appreciate). You close your eyes and touch your face to Cygnus's screen, already calmed slightly by the ever-present fuzz of the static electricity blanketing the smooth glassiness. You feel it on your nose and forehead where they meet the glass, and occasionally very gently on your eyelashes. You feel the warmth of your own breath trapped against the screen each time you exhale. You listen to the soft static sounds Cygnus is playing, like distant rain, and feel the warm firm touch of their hands on your back - stroking in that characteristic way Cygnus does, slowly down your spine and then quickly coming back up to begin the next stroke. You pay attention to your own breathing, and how the mattress feels under you, and then to the lovely warm bulk of Cygnus and their reassuring solidity. You bask in the soundscape and the tactile sensations until you are soothed.

Something's come back. You realise what it is: you feel completely safe in Cygnus's arms. Why did you ever feel otherwise?

Eventually, you move your head away from Cygnus's, and roll away enough to grab the bedcovers and pull them over you. You're calm enough now that they feel cosy and not too hot or oppressive. Cygnus returns their screen to normal brightness and fades out the rain/static noise. They display a question mark on their screen. Are you alright? You pull Cygnus into a cuddle. "Thanks, buddy," you say. You breathe in, and then out in a relaxed sigh. Then you venture: "My own actions played a part in that mess, I'm sure. The… void… whatever it is… it did warn me, and I pushed against it. I made you have to enforce your will."

"I hated doing it. That's a power I only ever wanted to use on skibidis, and I had to use it on a friend…" Cygnus clutches you to them. "I suppose that's how you felt when you… had to throw that rock at me. To stop the skibidi from using my powers."

Both of you have hurt each other and then lashed out, and then comforted and been comforted by the other. You nuzzle and press harder into your friend. "Hey, Cygnus? We've both fucked up, haven't we? I still want to love you and be friends with you. Let's be fuck-ups together and look after each other better."

Cygnus rubs your back again. "I love you, Phaeton. We'll do better by each other."

"Oh, Cygnus, you're a gem… You're everything I ever wanted in a friend."

Another squeeze from Cygnus. "Thank you," they say, then remove their hand from your back to rub behind your ear for a bit. You squeak in appreciation - oh, you love that feeling so much.

When you've recovered from the unexpected delight of ear-rubs, you tell Cygnus: "That's something I genuinely like about you: you can take a compliment. You don't reflexively throw it back and say 'you too'. And that's not me being paggro and saying 'oh, you should actually do that more'. I mean I actually do like that about you."

Cygnus emits some purry static from their speakers. "Let me tell you what I like about you," they say. "I love your analytical mind, and how you notice things and make connections quickly. And I admire how much you love humanity and being a human. You're self-assured, and you don't indulge in false modesty."

You trill with pride and pleasure at your friend's words. "You know what I appreciate the most about what you just said?" you reply. "You named things that are actually my qualities, instead of the ways I benefit others. …I've had people compliment me in the past and only say that I was 'generous' or 'helpful'. And I do like hearing those things, of course. But when you hear enough of that and only that… well, it makes you wonder if people actually like you, or just what you can do for them."

Cygnus nods to show they're listening. You snuggle closer to them, burying your face in Cygnus's chest. They gather you up in their arms and hold you close.

"One of my worst traits, though…" you say. "It's that when things are going well for me, it makes me want to sabotage it. It's not because I think I don't deserve nice things. It's because I want to get control back."

"…And if you sabotage it, that gives you the control back, because it happened by your actions?"

"That's exactly it. …If I get close to someone, that gives them power over me, whether they want it or not. Because they can choose to end the relationship and leave me behind. Leave me all alone and sad. So I want to leave them behind before they can do it to me."

"So the relationship would end either way, regardless of which of you ends it. But you fear not having 'control', enough that it makes you want to be the one that hurts the other."

Oof. "…Yes, I suppose that's accurate."

"And… are you worried I'm going to do that to you?"

"…Rationally, I know you won't." You bury your face in Cygnus's chest again briefly, to bolster your courage. You continue: "Cygnus, I love you so much, and you're my sweetest friend, and I'd be devastated if I lost you-" (Cygnus holds you tightly) "-and, because of that, it has crossed my mind several times that I should push you away. To kill the power. And each time, I choose not to. I choose to trust you."

Cygnus wraps themself around you, clearly touched by your words. You realise you're crying quietly, from sheer release of tension.

Cygnus strokes your back. "Are you crying because you're happy or because you're sad?"

"…Kind of both." You take a deep breath, releasing it slowly, feeling yourself relax more as you exhale. "I just love you a whole lot. I'm glad you found me first."

"…As opposed to who else?"

Ah. Should you tell Cygnus about this? Well, you do trust them. "…The skibidis. When I was still living feral in the wilderness, I didn't know techfolk were friendly. I thought you and the skibidis were largely as bad as each other and I didn't trust either of you. And, you know… I do kind of admire the skibidis' rowdy zest for life. They seem quite pleased with themselves and their fate. I did wonder several times, 'should I give in to the inevitable and join them?' Increase my chances of survival."

"I'm very glad you didn't." Cygnus moves a hand to rub and gently scratch the back of your head and neck. Then they emit an amused grunt of static. "…If nothing else, you'd be quite a spanner in the works if you were working in opposition to the Alliance."

You laugh slightly at that. "The thing is, I actually did meet another human, one who was apparently immune to skibidification like me. They'd chosen to throw their lot in with the skibidis. Sometimes I think 'Damn, that could have been me.' If things had been slightly different, if they'd got to me first, if that human had been slightly more charismatic."

"There are other humans like you out there? …I had no idea."

"Well, not any more. Not that one, anyway."

"Did the skibidis end up killing them?"

"No, I did."

You feel Cygnus freeze briefly. Well, fuck - after all that baring your soul about how you were afraid you would drive Cygnus away on purpose, have you just done it by accident? You've not only admitted that you considered joining the skibidis (potentially a dangerous thing to admit to a member of a faction whose unofficial motto is 'all toilets will die'), but that you've killed your own kind.

"…Did they deserve it?" Cygnus asks.

"Oh, absolutely. …Well, that's not quite right. No-one deserves death, but some people… choose to make death the only way to stop them."

Cygnus snuggles you. Oh, what a relief! They ask: "So, apart from the skibidi-aligned one, did you meet any other humans out in the wilderness?"

"No," you lie.

Maybe you'll tell them, one day.