4 - The Cake Is A

Is it just...lady? That could fit.

The Dreams show a keyboard set up like a Christian worship band would use.

Fine, forget it. This isn't that important to go slogging through this shit again.

All the energy I had is wrecked real good. Will we ever get this wound clean? Whatever my title was, if Christianity took this big a shit on it that even the Dreams can't help me find it again without taking me to church, it's of no use to me or the Heart Church anymore.

The Dreams show me a grand piano, from above.

Different kind of keyboard. Is it something about the instrument, then?

Instrument. LIke that paintbrush thing.

Still no.

Pianos have maestros. Mistress?

The Dreams show me a stained glass window, on its side.

Religious but think sideways. Prophet? Hmm. Like twang but no.

Light? That was one of Jesus' titles. I'm named Light, that's pretty shark repellent if you think about it.

The Dreams show me sideways Pillars of Creation now, like, the famous Hubble picture.

The idea of being anyone's creation makes me really prickly. I wish daddy could be around to tell people what he made me for suddenly, except maybe he'd make it worse. I don't think so but it's all so broken that I don't know.

The Dreams show me a paintbrush again. 

Heart-healing but I don't want to be a paintbrush I want to express myself.

This feels like bobbing for broken glass in a vat of shit and rusty sewing needles. What the hell is wrong with me that I don't stop.

The Dreams show me Boobsong's collar of thorns in its steel-cable form like the first time they showed it, and a shark.

Yeah, that's shark repellent. Gods They were all such vultures swirling around once they realized what I was, talking about what I should be like I ever should have been anything but a lost child. I'm not scared like that anymore though. Keeper has me. This is just so gross now. Anything I dredge up from here will be hopelessly tainted.

The Dreams show me peacock feathers, and then Lisa White the game designer from before.

Flashbacks and trauma. There's nothing here for me.

The Dreams show me a Speak & Spell.

You can just spell it out?

The Dreams show me ironing a nice white tablecloth in the preparing-for-party hall of some great big fancy restaurant.

So...you can clean it up, but what's that have to do with Speak & Spell? Or any of the other stuff?

The Dreams show me a bellhop cart and then a hook hooking onto it. I guess pull my stuff out of the muck? So the Speak & Spell is ET Phone Home?

The Dreams show me a jeep with a winch and then hands gripping a steering wheel like it's about to get interesting.

So yes, call for help to pull this out. Or myself at least. Call...Lisa White? Let's start at home dolly what do you have to say about this mess? Your stupid Fairy got fell down the outhouse I think.

You can't see the whole plan from where you keep falling. Looking up helps you here.

This is that stupid Bible verse, isn't it. If it's there no thanks.

The Dreams show me a speaker, seeming to go with the whole musical instruments thing before but telling me nothing.

Next they show me Mir. I thought it was going to be a depressing can of cold war stuff or whatever but it just turned out to be a metal place to jump off of for our sleighride to bring the Sugarfreaks to Strawberry Home.

If that's all it is there's another way there and I'll have that.

The Dreams show me a speaker in like a blue complicated speaker-cabinet.

So now back to the blueizing. Male peacocks are the flashy ones, too. Is Lisa White trans? I doubt she was born a mouse, but she is one now, that's just as much "blueizing" as getting the wrong sex.

What's gender have to do with this anyway? I already suggested Lady. ProphetESS?

We're off track. It was the prophecy stuff that got the heart-healing. I wanted a better title than "goddess" but that's clearly not happening. I suppose Verana had all kinds of prophecies about me beyond the monolith and that's what "looking up" would be. Did those get blueized in the Bible? The stuff the Dreams have been showing me about this makes no sense in the exact same way trying to remember how we hid my handmaidens on vacation when the answer was we just didn't take them, made no sense.

I thought there was something here when I started after it but I think there's not now. We didn't have a word for my like cosmic position, I was just Rainbow--

The Dreams show me Candy's eyes and mouth shining as she burned that room of junk from the rewrite.

So the answer is in the sacred texts of the Strawberry faith--wait, music stuff--

The Dreams show me Rory's band practice from Gilmore Girls.

Okay I was going there next but now I really am. I don't remember our sacred texts much because that was always kind of literally Verana's job to know them and figure out what applied where and tell everyone. And her priestesses. Anyway. Band, all this blue band stuff, a boy band, a worship band, the Bards of Rl'yeh Sade. It's musical representatives to a generation of Strawberries and later Americans. I'm pretty sure the name KISS is something they came up with. Knights in Sade's Service. That sounds like them. Good shot of Valkyr in any bard if you ask me, they were no exception. The rewrite squished the kinkiness out of their music a lot, but not off their faces!

No they were a lot more colorful before I think.

So they were it's Bards, I was...Herald? Of the Apocalypse yes, this, no.

"Angel of Sade" sounds pretty metal but no.

The Dreams show me a rainbow, a star, a four-paneled thing.

Rainbow Star(shine?) of the Four--

The Dreams...show a lot. First my Reminder seems so bright I can barely even see Boobsong, then I see a huge thick ring that makes me think of her collar, then...gravel, the monolith looking over it, this is the courtyard of Strawberry Home. The gravel's vivid and really looks like a lot of barbarians could see their houses from here (crushed barbarian fortresses being what we used for landscaping). Silhouette of a Strawberry Queen lounging, flopping onto her back oh so very bored. Me in my Starlight Princess outfit. Rainbow bright-starshine-colored light pouring down like casting metal. It drips over the edge of something like a mold. A hand from inside the mold grabs it, like to get up. Everything's all dark making me think of daddy. Seeing this makes me feel weird, excited, like seeing a picture of yourself where you look really hot. A mirror-shaped monolith--monolith-shaped mirror I mean. I see myself in it, I look good in my Starlight Princess outfit, feel confident. I'm a couple of minutes old. A star in the sky with a ray pointing down. A newborn baby. A lollypop stick comes out of its mouth, it takes the blowpop out of its mouth and is my thirtheen-year-old self in my Starlight Princess outfit.

As I start to squirm the Dreams show me a girder from the pool room at Geddy's Motor Lodge.

I remember cannonballing with Boobsong there once, SPLOOSH!

Take the plunge.

Okay. I'm an image of Sade made into a sentient goddess by the Dreams giving daddy a mold to cast me from. I saw myself as I'd be in the monolith daddy had but I wasn't wearing my getup that was it's prophecy. I did look like me, because I was made to be human. Stuff happened and I ended up in the Strawberry Empire and then making candy in America. I'm the Sade America needs because America's a nation of monsters founded on fundamentalism and imperialism and it had no hope of changing those cornerstones of its nature so the Sade it gets to come speak its language is a Princess from an Empire that worked close enough with Rl'yeh Sade to start redeeming those things. 

None of the three exoteric heavens was ever going to lead America to the light because it's not going to the light. Here in Olympic Pizza in Boston Mass we're still in Rl'yeh Sade, just like the Strawberry World. I'm high-fructose and artificially flavored and neon techno endocrinologically active synthopornographic because the neopuritan project of anticonsumerism is as delusional and doomed as going on an air-free diet because where did you even buy that organic latte hmm and as dangerous as a dom scared of their kink trying to cold-turkey it because that impulse will leak out somewhere if you don't embrace it like every other need you have. The only hope America has on any side of the worldgate with or without my game's help is the hard Sadish discipline of embracing the darkness and living it out with love.

And anyway, you want to know the real horrible Lovecraftian mindbreaking revelation of me? The awful truth, that's still there when you strip away the magic lovers born of your favorite porn and the transformations into the unhuman thing you are on the inside? The perfectly natural down to earth totally plain old human mindfuck of it all?

Artificial flavors taste good. Candy is great because humans are hardwired to love sugar. Fast food is yummmy because you'll need some salt and fat to go with all that sweet. Videogames are fun, especially the violent ones. Ultrasexy superstimulus porn makes you cum hard and weirdass "unnatural" kinky sex makes you cum harder. If those things are making people sick the only thing to do is put the people who are making them so irresponsibly that they're dangerous up against the wall and make them get their shit in line because you are never, ever, ever getting rid of those things, any more than you'll ever stamp out that one kink that triggers you so hard you forget the difference between your own pain and moral rectitude. Those things play on the very most basic bones of human happiness and being "pure" and "good" has no chance against them. None. You're not going to make them go away and you're not going to replace them with "natural" stuff that doesn't nail the exact same superstimuli. You might thinking you're making big Progress just like a million other Inquisitors before you, you know who you are, but you're not. The tide of hedonism will always eventually come in, the only choice you get then is whether you're going to ride the wave on a sweet-ass surfboard with everybody else or be hiding in a bunker that's going to get flooded out just the same whether it's stacked with guns and Chick tracts or lemongrass seeds and Michael Pollan books. Wake up and smell the Pop Rocks if you want to live.

Actually wake up and smell the Pop Rocks if that supposed sense of social responsibility you're always crowing about actually means anything, because if the moral guardians are sitting up their own assholes in their ivory towers of stoicism telling everyone how bad and naughty they are, you know what happens? It doesn't make the world a better place. It makes it so much worse. People will listen, but you're not going to get them to stop. They're going to hear you say, "that thing you need is bad, so you're bad", and then they will act the part. If you're really so woke wake up and interact with human nature as it actually exists instead of the ethereal angels in your head and maybe do the world some good because believe it or not you actually do have a function in the almost-not-quite-eusocial hive of human society and without you doing it right things will go to shit in exactly the way I found them when we landed here in 1993, but even with my game fixing stuff, people still need you, just like they needed Verana and me. Come back and make yourself useful in the real world if you're really so hot to be helpful, and if you're not, for fuck's sake just go party and stop torturing everyone, yourself included.

Snarlygrape artificially-flavored strawberry cool-whip, I can't even stop doing it long enough to say who I am. Sheesh.

To the Heart Church, I just am Sade, the spirit of Rl'yeh Sade incarnate so you can talk to me and snuggle me. That's why the Dreams refuse to use a separate voice in black mirrors with me. I'm their voice. Even though they seem to me like something separate and other and so much bigger than me, even though I'm one of a zillion bristles on their brush they use to paint their picture of themselves, that's how they want me to act. I am Sade.

The Dreams show me a hacksaw.

Dreams don't show me that. Don't tell me this was some kind of design. To put me and everyone through this hell. To create me to get trapped like I did when I could have been free. To sacrifice me to save Earth like that. Don't tell me that. After all this I don't want to go all the way back to telling my poor dragon to pack us up forever and leave and if that's what's true if that's what you are I have to.

They show me one of those multi-bins restaurants put silverware in, a strawberry, a stork, a stethoscope, superman, a lamb, a pussy, seriously wicked jaws, Mickey Mouse ears, a vehicle with the wheels falling off, drops of rainbow-iridescent blood on the ground, a chess queen and pawn, the Waifu from above, Heartwarming bells, [ Verana ], the surfboard I was just mentioning, a cartoon twister, a bunch of different-colored hovercraft, a compass (like, for drawing circles), a row of lifeguards looking very Baywatchy, a jet engine, a pizza peel, and then I think that's the Sun card out of Copper's Marseilles deck.

So...to feed the Strawberries, dad sent kids, or at least he was going to until his doctors betrayed him. I ended up like Clark Kent as a baby alien with superpowers whose world died. I was going to be a sacrificial lamb spike you too Eden, but my dragon ate me real good and then we went to America where I was a Disney Princess until the reset crashed our tour bus and I got hurt really bad. The chess queen-pawn thing is something Sis said to comfort me as I got better and started to remember myself after that, we went and broke out daddy and my brother(?) out, I blacked out and woke up and it was Heartwarming Eve and we went to get my handmaidens and all that, then we were here and remembering about the Heart Church, I remembered myself and ranted about surfing the tide of hedonism, got my wrath on a bit with a wakeup call. Daddy made a bunch of us, all different, but same basic idea, and the plan was we'd be like kind of lifeguards for the Strawberry World, jet around and bring food and happy comforting stuff in the for humans (because the card's oldschool, it's trying to say I'm made to speak their language) wherever we were needed. We're hovercraft because we're fast over land and sea and we starrily float on air but the Earth is our home as much as the astral (or we'd be spaceships in this).

Okay. That would have been a nice plan. I'm happy to have Boobsong but I think she would have happened anyway.

Oh this is why I'm so insistent I'm not enough. I know inside I was supposed to be part of a team. Being Sade for America all by myself felt really weird. I tried to fix it with the Holidays, but it...didn't quite work I don't think. I wonder how much of an apology I owe them.

The Dreams show me a Heartwarming tree stand, and Boobsong's face--oh. That's right. She did the actual breaking up with them. But what if she and Grandmother Strawberry were just playing along with me because I'm so, so--I guess that's not my place to worry about, huh. Okay.

Okay then that plan just sounds like dad being nice and I'm already terrifying imagine if I'd been grown up and had my siblings along instead of what happened. We would've got that world in order in no time and it would've been cushy feeding it. But everything got all spiked up and it's just been bullshit one thing after another since then and that's just like, life, when stuff like what happened to daddy happens.

I know where the hacksaw goes, too. Turning me into a--making me be Sade is a jailbreak to get me out of Earth.

It's right, though. It's not just a means to an end.

Dreams time travel again I don't understand the monoliths like how daddy had one and you couldn't warn him more or something but I never understand but now I have to.

A mountain low and broad against a kind of eighties stylizes skyline and horizon and to the right is a big circle that could be a moon or plasma shell.

The...monolith daddy had was of a mountain far off. It couldn't show him detail. That's him in the foreground looking at a mountain far away.

Oh in the vision my Starlight Princess outfit was just a black shadow over me. I liked the cut but there was no detail. I felt so proud of myself then. That was one of my first sights of myself. The vision's a memory. Daddy's right there. Right everywhere, heh. Everything's okay and I feel so pretty.

Everything's so simple in this. I'm so simple. I'm just a little whiff of person that knows how to smile and see herself in a mirror and know that's her and feel pretty. There's almost nothing else to me yet in that memory. I'd fall right apart in milliseconds if I wasn't in his womb because I'm only just barely not a figment of his imagination yet.

Then all this happened. Stupid egregore. I'm glad I remember this. It's good to have.

Oh fizzpopping gnarlygum. The monoliths are that vase thing from The Matrix. Would daddy have made human kids if you hadn't--no that's a perfectly valid question. Dreams would he?

Is that like a TODO list? 

Oh I see, not green checkmark, but checkmark. Yes. He would have. Okay. Daddy just tried to be nice and Eden messed it all up for everyone and isn't that just typical.

So much heart healing. I've been so scared of what I'll find when I look in here. I was so scared it'd show up someone wasn't who I thought. Or some things in the Dreams' case.

Oh fizzfrozen--if I am Sade--Dreams I can go on thinking the whole Trinity thing from Christianity is really stupid at like a basic conceptual level and not just because it insults me and daddy, right?

A golf club, then like a black signature I can't quite read with rainbow glowing behind it, then that's like a man-in-the-moon face, the Disney After Dark logo.

Golf? Oh hur hur FOUR! But why--oh Rainbow you stupid bimbo. The Dreams are a Quaterntiy with the same is/is-not thing going on as in the Christian Trinity, just, you know, instead of being an image of narcissistic parenting it's how all four eigenvectors of Happily Ever After are Paradise but are not each other, which I should know being as I've been relating to them like that this whole time.

The swoopy thing is a very Sadish invitation to be a face of them like I'm the face of Disney After Dark, which beats my next question out of the soda spigot because I was going to ask what this even means because can't everyone say they are Sade as least some in that the Dreams are a reflection of human nature so everyone has all four of the Four inside them in a different mix, but I'm like, the mascot, like I guess in some official sense (vision of Mickey Mouse they say) as least for this Earth, and practically that means being Sade for the Heart Church so "Sade" can be a person they can talk to to and feel up and stuff (better send a different bristle than me if you don't want the superslutty face but that's the point of how this works I think).

Okay so now in this flood of heart-healing "being" Sade feels all weird and wrong. Like is it not Sade specifically? I'm still just me. That's all I can be. I have some of all four Dreams in me.

Like a really long stick sticking off something that looks like a scale is their answer.

I'll take that as yes, you are just you, and that's how you're supposed to be as mascot, but you are really Sade.

No arguments there I just can't be only Sade or represent only that part.

But now we're back to the beginning, because what am I to the Heart Church? I'm supposed to be, I guess like the Dreams incarnate to them which GULP but, like, complete the sentence, that makes me _____ of the Heart Church?

It can't be "mascot", because I would have remembered that with no drama.

The Dreams show me one of those plasma-globe things that have little streamers that're drawn to your hand when you touch it, which isn't a bad way to describe me, hehe.

Somehow, that makes me remember I'm their Star. Gulp again because that means it all orbits me but it feels right and I'm still drowning in the cold-hot flood of heart-healing in my chest and we were playing along with American pop culture so me being the Star makes perfect sense, the metaphors line up exactly.

This is so many questions answered. I've been wondering how candy comes so easily to me, but of course it does, it really is part of me to make stuff to help humans. Daddy made sure we wouldn't give them the wrong stuff by making us to grow up as human and then make things from compassion, so the stuff we made would always be happy and kind to humans. I'm supposed to be this silly and innocent so I'll be nonthreatening and my stuff will be kind, but I have really good machine instincts so I can make whatever's needed, even insanely complicated transformation candy. Those machine instincts kind of bubble up to my conscious mind, they're so much, which is why I like airplanes and computers and making toys and all that even though you'd think a bimbo like me would just be happy fucking and telling stupid jokes. I probably would but I get like, itchy, have to make stuff.

Game is there a way I can try this without, um, causing a flood or coming out of bullet time?

Try to make small things, here while you're slow. Your game will contain your flow.

Okay, um...replacement flight controllers for the RC plane I keep thinking of now. Oh but silly idea. Foom.

Tiny circuit boards just big enough for the servo plugs and battery and motor wires pour off the tip of my nose, piling up in the bullet time but my game keeps there from being a "clog". In the center of each is a little rice-grain of celestial engineering that does the job of all the electronics of the stock one.

There are...millions. It's a little like cumming, or sneezing maybe with where I decided they should come out, like, it's hard to stop myself. I know I can make lots of candy at once, but...I was made to mass produce. I have lots of light, so there's basically no limit. That...ought to be enough flight controllers to keep Earth flying little foam bush planes for a few thousand years. They complicated little things too, with a CPU smart enough to run both autopilot and stabilization program, and a frequency-hopping radio, and gyros and high-amp power transistors for motor control and the motor on that plane is brushless which means the computer has to directly control the magnetic fields that drive it by turning them on and off as the prop turns, hundreds of times a second.

Oh but the battery is the most annoying part of any electric plane. Can I just make some? 8.4 volts, that connector, big enough to last for years without charging (usually an electric plane empties its battery in about 8 minutes).

They come out no bigger than the connector, like the battery itself is a tiny speck.

And so we're back to the batteries and I get what you were all trying to show me with that. Ugh what a long way around to go. Stupid forgetting owned. I...this feels weird. My rules are right. Candy, toys, dress-up. That's all this makes. I should have those rules, they're right and good, but shouldn't I...wouldn't it be good to be able to make people...useful stuff I guess?

The answer's no, weird, but there it is.

Maybe in paradise the most useful thing you can give someone is a reminder that it's playtime now. Look how I got lost, after all.

The Dreams show me a hand drill Grampie gave me when I was small--you cranked it, and up-gearing would make the drillbit spin fast enough to drill. He painted it up prettily for me, with my name and stuff. I loved that drill, but I was a little kid, it was more toy than tool to me. So where's the line anyways? I'll need all sorts of stuff to work on my planes. I remember this beautiful ruby-handle'd gold Xacto knife I had. That's still a tool, right? I was using it for funtimes, though. Building with your hands feels so good.

Maybe work and play have more to do with what gives and takes life--

The Dreams show me a covering iron.

Working with Monokote's tricky, and cutting panels is stressful, but ironing it on is fun. The fumes make me sick, though, just a little bit, but enough I make out with Boobsong lots when I'm working with it. That's taking life, isn't it? The results make me so proud though. I guess that doesn't work either.

It feels like the concepts are something else. You could write books about this, I'm not going to figure it all out now. Maybe the important part here is "work" can be a shadow hiding the fact that even if what you're doing is amazing and important and uses all your skills, it can still be making your heart die, and calling stuff "work" makes us think that's okay a lot more than we should. Sometimes you're just plain stuck, but if so, pretending what you have to do to survive doesn't just feel like dying more slowly than if you didn't probably makes things a lot worse. 

I seem to remember getting myself in trouble with that pretty bad during the bad times. I worked as a software engineer and could barely write a single line of code most days. I muddled through, mostly, but it hurt like hell.

Yet, I also made the whole HeartFormer app that helped me remember about Boobsong's ability to "tear off" and save the beautiful skies of rainbow nebulas cumming in her paints across her pale white skin so we can start with a blank canvas, and it spewed out of me like those flight controllers just did.

One came from my heart's wish for Boobsong, and then the way she made me shine. The other...no light, no power, no output. Don't want me, just the code. That puts me out, like a candle snuffer.

The Dreams show me a milk carton with a picture on the side, like, have you seen me, missing person, but the picture is of Jupiter.

My faith and joy got lost, yeah. Weepy small crying--

The Dreams show me swirly Jupiter clouds with my name spelled on them in big balloon letters: RAINBOW.

Oh. I got lost.

What's that weird...oh The Horde, from Warcraft. My horde of fans is looking for me--unless you think that's your hoard, dragon?

That's them. See candy pill that's also screw head? Drive their screws, Dreams say.

Sure enough, they're showing me that, then a plastic tray that's for making fruit roll-ups, escalator (bottom at right).

Candy pill to get the party going (I have been saying rave slut outfit about my Starlight Princess getup) and get everyone horny, make some fruit leather hehe as in don my outfit, and make a dramatic getting-off-the-plane entrance (that's the kind of stairway you use to get off a plane).

Okay, then two last things. First, me and drugs. Is like, my junkie side frozen? Pills are yawn, but that's no surprise when I can make candy. I think...I like trips of other kinds. Caffeine and booze cover the mood-altering I want to do most of the time. And sugar obviously. Drugs are fine, with nectar and candy there's no real reason to smoke a pack an hour and shoot up an entire oil tanker worth of smack, but, like, that's so boring, at least to me. I like my coffee, though, so I can't talk.

Oh, I bet Bombshell could really use a smoke if she hasn't wished one up yet.

The Dreams show me white silk. And some appropriate lingerie. I kept seeing her in forties stuff before because that's what she wore. I can make her stuff, but I bet there's some fun gifts for her in that dieselpunk world the Dreams hinted at before.

I've got to remember our story, her and me. It's a good one.

Second...Dreams...I'm scared of this, but, like, being representative or mascot or whatever you'd call me, is--does the way we communicate feel a little weird because you had it so it was really part of me? Like I just know stuff and stuff?

Yes, they do, the answer's there like a gentle sexy light shining through me. It's wetly hot like being fucked, something other lovingly inside me, but doesn't feel like being filled. It doesn't change my shape, just come inside. If it feels like that, I won't make mistakes, or think I'm them, and this turns me on, but I'm still scared. I can't screw up. This is too important.

It's all so scary but there's so much heart healing in it.

As I think they show a vision, too, of a door in a white void. It's oddly armored, with a square window with that glass with wire inside, like at a school or something.

Now a marching band...of American revolutionaries. So the door is the worldgate, then?

...nnno. Same fuck, different shape, saying no. Then...they're looking around in my memory--I know the answer.

Come out to play. That's a school door, time for recess.

It's time to start a chain reaction. I should give the Sugarfreak, yes it will be a Sugarfreak, who takes our pizza order a push of some kind. Don't know what before seeing them.

I just know it all, like that same light shining through me as the yes and no before. This feels sexy. The Dreams are kind. I'm still me, though. I just have all they are to draw on. It's like a telescope extends your eyes, they tell me, the same way, or I should say I can see now. I was thinking Borg to be plugged into something like this but it's almost the opposite of that.

This is a little scary, ignorance really can be bliss, but--I know light and darkness, too. Will they just tell me everything this way? Nope. They can make a fun game of it, play teasing secrets with me like I was doing with Copper before, give me a landmark and a compass and a big dark forest to get lost in.

Or...they are doing that, here in Olympic Pizza. The first quest is, push that Sugarfreak.

It's still all dark and my game still has that game box in front of my face. I had stuff to say there, yeah. The dark's me shining. Chill out? Yeah, because I want to see Olympic Pizza again. I rein my light in a bit, and it comes back, around the edges of the game box.

This is such a deep ocean to swim in, with the Dreams like this, but I know my game will stop me if I'm not allowed.

This Nintendo CD game, then. If this is me and Boobsong, we'd have some bullet points like I was saying:

- 50+ dreamskins starring Rainbow, Boobsong, and others

- One doozy of a fourth wall break

- Based on true events and actual journeys to Paradise--

No, "Paradise" was too loaded in America, that's right. If anyone asked, Four Dreams, Paradise, same thing, call them whichever, but we always said "Four Dreams" so people wouldn't think of Christian Heaven. "Four Dreams of Paradise" to sound official.

- based on true events and actual journeys to the Four Dreams by Rainbow and Boobsong

Wait that box shape--oh but CDs were still in those silly tall boxes in the nineties. Did Nintendo do that--it depended on who was making the game. We put an end to the idea of closed platforms right quick. If a system existed you could make games for it from your basement, just Pirate Device up a devkit and get going. Come on, you might be about to make someone's dreamskin!

So I can't say from that, but, did we. I thought it was fun to open a big box. We put feelies in too, like Infocom in the eighties, and I made spectacular fancy gemstone or candy boxes for the Pirate Device to copy for everyone with my Lens.

Or...that feels right, but I can't do fancy printing, can I? Complexity, yes...I think if I can--plan it, is what comes to mind, and see pictures, I can copy stuff. It's like, hard to make it do exactly what I mean--oh my game could guide me, take a picture someone made and make me shine it like a printer. But I can shine pretty complicated stuff on my own, like that hexgrid I used to Unveil Magic from her Chik-fil-a uniform.

That's all hardwired into me, like my candy being good. It's really powerful. I have machines to make stuff that way, unconsciously, but they just do it, if I go to use them, it's not even a skill. Just like in doll-form I have machines to like massage clits and cry and stuff. Doll-form feels homey because it expresses that part of me in a way my human body doesn't.

Did--daddy's doctors just threw me in the trash, but--I'm okay, they didn't mess me up or leave traps in me or my stuff. I know it with the Dreams.

They tell me, too, like putting the knowledge in front of my face. It's the clearest loudest yet.

I...can be like a box of chocolates, though. Never quite know what you're going to get. Watch those flight controllers scan for trees using some kind of subspace radar and avoid them automatically--I lost the plane I was thinking of in a tree and it got all beat up.

With clear intention I can control it, like if I get really particular about exactly what I'm making. The fun comes in when I don't do that. My subconscious leaks in, though never in a way that contradicts what I'm trying to do. The cans of Tab I'm fixing to casually make while Boobsong orders pizza won't let you try on being a waif when that's the opposite of my point with them.

And there's the thing where...oh because...my compassion becomes part of what I make too, or just wanting to make people happy. It takes serious willpower to keep that out of my stuff. That's why unless I'm very particular my candy always does unexpected stuff, there's always a little part of me that's like, but what if there's a better version of this that would make them happier? That's by design, it must be, to make sure people get good stuff...ehh...did daddy make the Sugarfeast Fairy real, and that's me? Like was I pretty on target with the whole holidays thing? I don't seem to think they're all my siblings, but...maybe I was remembering something, or my game knew...oof, now I'm tangled up in a tangle-up.

Found my brother in that awful dark place, the Dreams are reminding me. The Holidays were missing at least him. I seem to think there's at least one other, and the Dreams aren't disagreeing with me.

I see the Laughing Man icon from Ghost in the Shell Stand Alone Complex when I think about it. Weird.

Daddy looked at the Strawberry World's holidays, and made their patrons real. I know that much with the Dreams'--but Boobsong--my tangle-up is getting tangled-er. Argh.

No that's right. Boobsong herself said she didn't invent Sugarfeast. If I'm made to be the Sugarfeast fairy, unexpected fun will be a basic part of everything I make. Like that's just how it works. I can make it not, but that's kind of like trying not to cum so loud. But the unexpected fun is kind, so it looks at what would be happy for who it's happening to, and adapts, usually with a silly tinge because I'm supposed to be fun.

That, makes me feel a little better, because it helps me see why the Dreams might want me for a...a...I'm a...s...sssstarrr...ish?...Siren.

Zero guesses what told the story Sirens are a bad thing. It also invented succubi that drain your life force away.

Anyway if I have making unexpected fun wired into me like my doll-machines in doll-form and I'm just supposed to sing an entrancing "song" (I am a fat lady according to American dressmakers, and you sure will think it's the apocalypse if I ever literally sing), it makes a little more sense of things because I'm just not this incredible amazing person you'd have to be to be the Dreams' representative I would think.

I...stop thinking like that, they're telling me. Like, they picked me for a reason, and it's me they want, like I was saying to Sex this morning about me wanting her. That...they gave me a situation where I'd tell her what I so wanted to hear myself, so they'd have that to draw on when we got here to tell back to me. I won't Siren to their satisfaction unless I bring my me. Not doing that is also kind of Jesusy, and I'm not totally sure Boobsong's collar of thorns won't get me if I go that way.

[!] Pain's too hard for you that way. Only when safe can you take spankings. Game will be very kind telling you if the Dreams stop, don't be Jesus be Rainbow.

Okay. Good.

I should get some good food now, I know the same way, and the game box disappears, and the bullet-time ends, and it kind of feels like I whip to look at Boobsong standing there at the counter suddenly even though I'm just doing it normally we're just not slow now.

New plan, then, dolly, just a large pepperoni to snarf on the tour bus with quadruple pepperoni, we'll be back for my handmaidens' pizzas and everything.


A cutely short and sweetly curvy girl with long black hair comes out of the back wearing a pizza-making-stained apron, her soft-looking skin, and, now, her dropped jaw of surprise to see Boobsong bouncing there so casually. She stops in the doorway and puts her hand on the frame.

This is such a great set piece. I kick back even more and slurp my grape booze like nothing at all interesting is happening. Oof, good and strong, this is more grape sherry than grape wine cooler.

"Grape soda sugar blocks and starlight ice cream forty ways, the Dreams set a fire in the Strawberry house!"

The voice is coming from the back room, high and sweet, cutely nasally-femme.

Wait a minute, is the Arlington house not just backstory!? When daddy took over Christianity, I would totally have begged him for the rectory near my favorite pizza shop to use as a vacation home--unless I just annexed it because conquering Strawberry--nah, wouldn't have kicked people out of their house--unless of course they left because they Pirated themselves a better one--


Says the girl in the door in a very even (and prettily softly flutish) voice, tearing in half between trying to stare at and me and Boobsong both. This is so great. I keep quaffing but can't help grinning around my soda can.

"Why yup, what'd you see?"

I put down my soda and put a shushing finger to my lips. The girl half turns and tries to act normal but her eyes are shining and she glances my way as she says:

"Just the light on Boobsong's hair."

Thumbs up and grin to you, Sugarfreak, good one. 

Let's play this normal until we've ordered or so to mindfuck backroom-girl, dolly. You're still clicked from before, yeah?

Order stays until you say done.

Look at girl so sweetly hi.

"Do you think they're here right now?"

Backroom's voice now sounds like it's on the news that the Bards are unexpectedly in town. Doorway girl replies:

"I think they're right close by. The Dreams made it seem like they were right here. Customers. Hi!"

Cover my mouth with my hand trying not to burst out laughing or like, squeak. Doorway girl is getting into it, like being in on our little prank is steadying her. She slowly comes out of the doorway to come up to the counter as she talks. 

Show the hands of Silent Sub. Then take menu. Open up, point at--this is so easy! That one there.

Silent--you sneaky little demon, well done.

"One Princess Starlight Ultimate."

This is adorable, Doorway girl is writing it out on an order slip and everything. A glance through Boobsong's eyes shows me the menu, with a specials section:

Princess Starlight Ultimate

4X Pepperoni Large. Just like Rainbow eats--

Wait! Click! Before I know what I'm doing I've had the plan and clicked wait at Doorway Girl as she tears the order slip off.

I think I can do the goddess-voice thing to any of them like I do Sex, but I don't wanna, this way is funner.

Doorway Girl (watch the Dreams turn this name into some kind of gigantic metaphor) stops and curtsies with her hands still on the pad and stands with downcast eyes looking so very hot with her mouth open and soft full  purple-glossed lips shining and curled back hornily.

Oh hell yes. What a treasure you are. So many ideas.

There's a scraping-chair sound from the kitchen, and Backroom's practically shouting, like more than she has to to be heard from the kitchen.

"Yow! Blazing ice cream bowls, aprons off, she's right outside! You feel that too?"

Doorway Girl's voice sounds far away when she answers:

"Just a little tingle..."

[Very soft] They noticed your eravahk.

Bring, I click Boobsong, at the order-sheet, to hurry this. It'll feel gross if I'm actually lying to Backroom, which we're already too close to. I just want to greet her funly.

Boobsong gets on tiptoe to reach better, and takes the chance of high-heels-ass to wave her pussy at me as she gently slips the pad out of Doorway Girl's hands and bounds silently up to me so it feels like the smile her cute expression and bouncy bouncy boobs in my face as she bends down to present the pad to me on open palms.

"You alright?"

Backroom's actually sounding concerned. I'll just blurt something if this starts sounding unfun. Doorway Girl is on it:

"Just, if they're here, that's, wow, totally pizza next, she'll be here for sure in no time flat! Silent sub's talking though."

Holy hard drive savers, clever Sugarfreak. Rewards for you--there's a thing there, um, I can click them fun? Candy, duh, no, some special thing. I mean click to cum, no doubt, but something else.


Backroom calls it louder, sheepish, like to say she's talking across the counter too.

Okay. Have to take hand off mouth for this. Don't squeak don't moan at all the sexy, sexy Boobsong right here. Her hair hangs down silvery and her lips look like just-sucked grape gummis and her breasts are hanging so anti-gravity nipply fun...

Deep breath. This is the "downside" of being a Fairy. There's a good chance I won't be able to hold any of that in, my emotions just come out, either as dramatically holding them in squirmiliy like this, or expressing myself, but having a game to play can help. This is also expressing myself, that gives some space to squirm in the awesome bondage of my fae nature. If I do blurt, well, that'll be a fun stupid way to announce myself.

My life would be so much less fun if I had one speck of dignity.

Hold, I click Boobsong, while thinking of what I want to do, and she puts the pad up vertically in front of my face. I take my hand away and make rainbow gilttery light-filled (so bright-glowing) fruit flavored and scented lip gloss (each rainbow stripe's a different fruit) on my lips and kiss a big sexy kiss-mark onto the pad, which looks like eighties computer stores and smells pleasantly inky like dot-matrix cash registers.

Then I wipe the very yummy edible lip gloss onto my fingertip and scrawl HI! with a heart-shaped exclamation point dot. Because I was thinking it would do that instead of making sense, the lip gloss from my finger makes beautiful rainbow swirls on the paper like I drew the HI with one of those color change pens, except the swirls are still swirling.

Put, I click Boobsong, pointing at the counter where Doorway Girl is still waiting so wetly patient.

Boobsong straightens but not before I can give her hard-nippled round-hanging breasts a good two-fisted squeeze--

Don't make sound must be good to this that girl back there's going to have some good time from THIS candy!

Boobsong doesn't make sound but she sure does make a great expression. She dances back to the counter swaying her ass so I can practically see my mark where it should be there. Need collar on her, too.

Oh dearie me, I think as Boobsong carefully slides the pad exactly where it was before, I've forgotten to intend any effect at all for my lip gloss. Whatever shall happen.

I lick the rest of it off my lips. Yum, fruit punch!

I make a go ahead motion--oh she can't see with her downcast eyes. Click, go ahead, but I will to not to set off whatever I did the last time. Which is what? LIke I read Harry Potter and thought the whole Dark Mark thing was totally metal so I did it because gravel between toes, right?

It's not from that, though. Weird. Did JK Rowling even bother finishing Harry Potter in the real history? I know he was really different after he transitioned...

I want to say it's a heart on their cheeks like Boobsong has right now, but Doorway Girl doesn't have one...oh. Right. It flares bright from her cheek when I look for it. After all, zillions of uses for unmarked followers, but they get sad not to have one. I can use this to call them, it tells them to get ready when I do something...click apparently...oh it gets their attention if I'm playing nearby and they don't know. I can sneak, though. Because I love doing stuff like this. It's always been a little like, unreal to me how happy they get to see me but blowing their minds with it never gets old.

Doorway girl looks up and then goes on tearing the page off the pad, stops, see my message, grins wickedly and meets my eyes and I fancy I can see my own rainbow irises--no that's a Dreams vision, that's right, I can ride their sight like Boobsong's!

Alright yeah me missing the look on her friend's face when this order comes in gets spiked.

As she turns to take the slip back I reach for her like dreamtalking but with the intention to ride her eyes and suddenly I'm much shorter than normal and headed through the door.

The homey scruftiness of the kitchen is just like I remember, complete with that same old fan stuck in the back window and the pizza oven opposite the door. Backroom is at the prep table to the right making a meatball pizza (and four thousand dickless-jokes by reference) (right, some of you started with this book. Um, just remember this when we explain why Olive Garden meat sauce is a thing) in a dark-blue pinstriped apron.

She looks up when Doorway Girl walks in, drops her pizza parts and runs around the table, stops halfway to throw her apron over her head revealing an almost Bombshell-ish blonde girl with a red-and-white checked dewrag holding her hair back. She has a red collar with a little golden bell on it, cute little pink-fuzzball-tipped butterfly antennas, pointy elf ears (she's way to exuberant for them to be Vulcan ears), hot big pink areolas on nice big soft breasts (last reminder, my game doesn't let me use Latin plurals because I sound more cutely bimbonic without them, after this areolaS you can just think I'm stupid) and a little (as in canonically-sized) cartoon Strawberry tatoo in the top-right corner of her perfectly-bare mound. She's even curvier than her friend, but taller, this is a most snuggly welcome committee. On her feet are the same kind of black pumps with the single strap over the open part I like over my rainbow stockings (diamond slippers are for bare feet really) but she doesn't wear the little rainbows I like to make.

I get a nice view of all of this, including shoes, because Doorway Girl checks her out real good as she charges. If they're not lovers, and Backroom doesn't act actively grossed out by Doorway Girl, they're going to be lovers when I get done with them, because damn, she's looking like I would.

Oh, shouldn't have worried. Backroom pauses again, does the bending-down-hands-to-face-holy-oh-my-goddess thing, then springs at Doorway Girl and the world is full of Backroom's collar followed by Backroom's blissful closed eyes and then nothing for a moment followed by Backroom's grinning face as they kiss.

Ooooh, Backroom felt her lover get clicked! Her Mommy? Something like, with the way Doorway Girl climbed up to kiss her.

Then they--hot! The ticket comes up and they both lick my kiss-mark together, tongues out to both reach at once. Backroom's lips and tongue are pink like her areolas (and clit, and inner lips, I bet).

They wait a moment to see if the candy does anything, then Backroom's eyes close and her mouth opens with lust and the view goes blurry as Doorway Girl's eyes go half-mast and I hear them both moan but weirdly from the other room where I actually am--Backroom's mouth opens wide and then the view goes black--hehe! Their moans turn into a shared scream that is definitely them both cumming. Surely that can't be all, right? I guess I must not have cum because no Boobsong--

Oooh! It makes kisses do fun stuff! Point, click, kiss, dolly!

I pop back to my own head to see her. She turns, bounces over smiling bright, climbs onto the table (game seems to have taken my soda) and gets on her knees and leans over so breastily and comes right up to kiss, lips shining, slippery soft purple joy slides over my lips and her candy tongue pushes in and worship from her and pouring from the kitchen floods me as I lean forward--


There's just time to get my hands on her breasts before a deepthroat face-reaming as hard and fast as a just-ripe jerking off turns the world into happy screaming that breaks our kiss with its snort-a-pixie-stick intensity I guessthecandyEFFECTISJUST--HHHAAHHH--FINDYOURBIGGESTPLEASUREBUTTONAND--GAASP--MASHSOYOUFRYTHATISWHAT--AAAH--IWASTHINKINGWHENIMADETHIIIIIISSSSSEEEEAAAAFFFFFFFUUU "MMMMFFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAAAAA..."


The blazing pleasure of pumping big spurts of candy cum into her whites everything out for a minute and when I come back from it instead of nebulas over her face she's getting rainbow lipstick scented with the candy-jizz smell of my cum, which anyone who knows the first thing about us will get the meaning of, and if not, oh, they'll figure out where this smell is comfing real fast.

I get back to making out as soon as I can do anything but cum screamingly.

Because I can't do anything else.

Not that I mind. Or had any intention of doing anything else. We're also fucking again, her ass this time, just as hard and faaaassst...


Holy fuck I can't even stop pounding to cuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMM "MMMMMHHHMMMMMMMMMMM..."

The world is candy lips and bouncy Boobsong ass and pounding and screaming from me (though at least I can keep kissing this time) and the Sugarfreaks in the kitchen and Boobsong's hungry-dragon kisses and the smell of my candy cum and Boobsong's artificial-grape-explosion nectar still distinct over it and throbbing white hot pleasure. Our fucking doesn't even slow down as it switches from drilling her ass from behind to pounding her pussy against her folded-up legs in front, so ball-smackingly wetly slippery perfectly lined up I can barely tell the difference between this orgasm and the last ooooOOOOONNNNNEEEEITSNOTEVENHARDTOCUMTHISFASTTHISMUCH "MMMMMMM..."


Sobs start to fight their way in over cumming when she thinks that because after everything it seems so hard to believe and as my brain starts to work again I can't help thinking this is just a little rest before the next nightmare, another moment the game doesn't actually start. I find myself thinking back to the last time we sat like this, sexily maybe stuck forever, with me on a chair and Boobsong on the table this way, aboard Isht Visht. Sis had that chess game set up and had just soothed me, because I felt crazy for thinking there was some big cosmic plot around me instead of my just being some random lost kid floating up with the broken bits of a smashed world to be saved by sexy Charon because that's just what she did, with the idea that when people go the kind of nuts I was worried about their delusion is they're a pawn becoming a queen, while I was a powerful something (we'd just found out how much damage I actually did on that scary scary ride across Limbo) turning into a helpless fuckdoll (I was just remembering my game then).

Well, here I am, queened. This whole world is waiting for me. It still makes me feel kind of nuts. I can't find the thing inside that'd make me special enough to have that place. Earth might be might-makes-right enough to put me on the throne if I have something like my game and deleting incoming nuclear warheads with my eravahk clicked at NORAD's situation-room screen (to say delete to my Acme Station here) saying "this is a boring show" but those two Sugarfreaks love us and I can feel it like kissing them wouldn't be exciting anonymous sluttery it'd be kissing someone I love because I'm somehow wired that this whole situation makes me love them back even though I'm calling them Doorway Girl and Backroom because I have no clue who they are beyond the rainbow hearts I can call out of their cheeks and the fact that there's no way Backroom isn't wearing that red-and-white checked dewrag in honor of how that pattern is important to me because of the curtains at Plowstar and the tablecloths at the Pizza Hut in Presque Isle.

Here I am, queened, and the board should be like a whole big candy store of different stuff I can do but that's so hard to believe. How can any of this be real should be my question but instead it's just my heart's inability to dare think what's ahead isn't more of the hard, sad roller coaster we've been on that seems like it only ever got happy long enough to make me not just have my dragon eat me and take me off the board forever.

Boobsong smashed whatever chessgame was going in Sis' ageplay nursery aboard Isht Visht, and then we went on the ride that took us back to Strawberry Home to flip that table. Now the only thing here for her to knock off was the can of grape booze I made to escape in the alcohol. I guess she is the game this time. I want to believe that but it's so hard.

That moment in Isht Visht was two or three nights ago. Sleeps you call them in Rl'yeh Sade where there's no universal day and night. It feels more like ten other lives. This morning with Sex and Auntie Lucifer feels like another life.

We've come so far and I don't know how to think this is the end, especially after how it seemed like the ending of Sis' vision quest and our flying through that, that title sequence to come home to the Camp again after her years of wandering and our fight across Limbo and being captured (for the first time I thought then) by my game made it seem like we were ending our wild ride, not starting the apocalypse. I thought after every step, this has to be it, and it never was. Why should I think that now?

The Dreams show me Voyager, but I know with Dreams-knowledge it's just about back to a Starbase. Because this is a voyage home and we're so close I can feel it.

I can. It feels like the Stamford house and Olympic Pizza and the Arlington house just a block away--it's right down the road from here.

These are the final steps now. Maybe just a block away--but that tour bus was home as much as any vacation house. I know what's missing still, if you ask me, anyway, how to do those Heartwarming rituals we should be happily rushing around to get ready for, what was happening in Starlight Princess (it's a serial, I want to make more of it), but I knew what was missing aboard Isht Visht sitting at that table possibly never to move again, too, and it was nothing. Everything I needed was right there, kissing me. Earth was shattered bits and Rl'yeh Sade an unknown wonderland and Sis still just a nice domme having a good time helping me adjust to my Fairy lifestyle before she turned me loose in Rl'yeh Sade proper. It was all wrong with my white lingerie and my plain flaxen blonde hair and blue eyes and blue butterfly wings that could barely move instead of my buzzy Fairy fun but I couldn't tell. It felt so much better than the boy I was when I started that journey, I thought that was everything. I didn't feel anywhere near home through all of it, but I thought that's because we had to make a new one out there with the kind monsters I could tell we were two of.

I want the fun we're having with these Sugarfreaks and each other and pizza and stage shows and partying with my handmaidens to just be life now. I want to live and have fun without stopping as soon as I remotely feel good to fight through nightmares that make me try to kill myself.

When I start to decide I'm just not going to believe it until I see it, until I settle into it for a few thousand years, the Dreams...it's that door again but it's nicer this time, like on a church...they're showing my the inside of the door out of the maze I've been lost in, these nightmares and nightmares. School, church, there's probably an office door here too if I keep looking, it's all those at once.

Come out of this hole you've been stuck in, they're saying, here's the door. They haven't shown me that yet...but I still don't know how to get up and walk through it!

Memory. A journey I did during the worst of the dark times--no, this is backstory, but just before the reset, right at the beginning or end depending on how you look at it. I did a journey to find out what was with a dream I had about a dreary old school. There was a person their, sad and beat down, who asked me, why are you here. There was a doorway behind her, but I didn't walk through it. I zoomed up through the roof and turned that whole universe inside out, remade it into an image of the Four Dreams.

It makes me think about the explosion we just rode--the fucking's stopped, and I'm resting forehead to forehead with Boobsong now, crying quietly, just tears running down while I pant and think.

My desires and wishes go into my candy, if they're compassionate or kind. I was so touched by those two Sugarfreaks still moaning in the kitchen now even being here at all, when I let my candy do whatever it gave them a huge explosion of fun-together because I just wanted them to have a good time that much. I was having visions of being nice to them all sorts of ways with candy to give them fun like this or softly-offered yes please grope me hugs or an invitation to come hang out at the Arlington house or on our bus that still might happen, but none felt right because they weren't this knock-you-on-your ass blast off the brilliant sunlight that pours in the window on a perfect Saturday morning so the spot it's shining isn't even whited out it's every wavelength like all the colors are there together packed like the crowd at a really god show but still individual so it seems like it's all dancing rainbow and you know only cartoons and candy and good times with your beloved are ahead and it's so exciting because Starlight Princess is on and there's a new episode, except not that, I want to be that bright but I want to hit like the starburst and crash of every instrument in the orchestra that starts out the Starlight Princess theme, not just walk out a door and say hi. I played this little game with the order slip because I wanted to surprise Backroom really hard making her think everything was normal so she'd learn we were here with the candy shining in her hand from the letdown of oh it's just normal customers.

The Dreams are inviting me to come out of this little hole. Here's the door, you got to the door, they say, but...I can't walk through it. If I walk through it I'll just be in another room of the maze.

This has to be big. It has to be huge. Bigger than picking up a showful of Sugarfreaks from DC to go to Strawberry Home with an really epic stage show where we skydive off Mir naked with on a hypertech flexible flyer built by the supposedly-mythical Strawberry people who, fine, are pretty much sexy Atlantis. That's just normally big for Boobsong and me. This has to make that hurricane look dinky. We'll put the Rockies back because they were pretty and if this is here my point is made now and it's time to something actually epic. It's going to take the whole band back together, as much as we can. Walt, Steve, Grandmother Strawberry, all of them, my most epic candy ever and Acme Station here doing something I don't know what but it starts with a World of Cardboard speech and gets bigger from there.

I can see that door again and it's open now and outside is a world so colorful it's bright even to my eyes.

This is paradise, we can just wish our way there, can't we? Right here right now? No. Whatever we do it's going to be so big even in paradise it takes getting ready for. A lot of it. This is going all the way.

Every Sugarfreak is going to have all sorts of things to do. FUN things. I refuse to do this any other way. Touring was fun. Stage shows were a blast, we never did any tedious like rehearsing or workshopping jokes painfully, just got up on stage and blurted stuff. My best material comes out when I don't think too much anyway. That was so much the key to everything.

I can see that little shopping-center Heart Church with the blonde wood now, from the front like I'm about to call dance. Guess I did that for those two Sugarfreaks in the kitchen just now, hehe.

Except Boobsong and me don't plan stuff. We just get up on stage and blurt things. Where's the stage here? Those two Sugarfreaks, and my wanting pizza. It could be Earth. We could get our pizza and march out the door headed for the Arlington house where apparently a fire is waiting and just see what kind of parade we collect. This has been a rail up to now, a roller coaster with one way to go, but now I'm not sure there is a right answer.

Has it ever been like that for us? It was all to open the worldgate. I feel like the only thing I know how to do is ask what's the next optimal step to that.

There are three monoliths, still, I guess in we're still doing that, then.

It's...not going to be found that way. The path. The monoliths are out there but the only way to find them is by just exploring for the joy of it. I know this as a Siren. I'm confused because Earth was always where I was fighting a war asking what's the next step to win even though my game had already taken over the world.

Can't we not be here, since it hasn't happened for us? If there are monoliths left to Boobsong and me isn't Earth not saved, to Boobsong and me?

"Holy zampow candy crullers there's a monolith."

The first thing I think to hear Doorway Girl hear it isn't what or oh my fizzpopping or HERE

It's I know.

"They're leaning like Heart Home got destroyed, what's this mean? Candy cock explosion bombs, her tears have her candy smell! Does that mean they're candy too?"

Backroom whispers, trying not to disturb us, it sounds like. She's making a fucking Axelay reference in her candy swear, with the "explosion bombs". Like five people played that game. How can they love me so much.

"Come lick them off for me and find out," I laugh through my tears, looking at Boobsong's wide eyes.

The door is blown away and the walls are cracking open, of my little room, and the world outside it is so bright and brilliantly colorful and happy I shake with tears seeing it. It's a vision but it seems as real as Olympic Pizza somehow.

There's a sound of a dropped apron, and then sweetly fruit-punch-smelling breath is on my face two hot wet tongues are licking up my cheeks so lovingly. I can feel them close but reverently not touch without being told.


The little room is shaking, tearing, coming apart the candy-colored hills outside so happy and inviting they hurt are shining with my light over the brilliance of the place now.

It wasn't just the table aboard Isht Visht. There was another moment, in my room in what I thought was the Stamford house, where Boobsong leaned over me like this to kiss, and I had no idea what was ahead.

"Everybody take Boobsong's hands and get snuggly."

In the vision a blazing surge of the opposite of a supernova out of me rips the whole top off my little room to reveal gorgeous rainbow sky. Everything in that world is joyful fire hotter than a big bang, hot enough to warm my stellar heart.

I take my hands off Boobsong's boobs and point to my own hand and click her grab, and she takes my held-out hands with first one hand and then the other so she's leaning on me instead of the table. Snuggly soft Sugarfreak squishes up to both sides of me, and their hands clasp ours, resting on top of Boobsong's.

"Here's a wham line for you."


A furious rainbow-rayed explosion in the vision annihilates all but stubby fragments of wall of the little room, and I'm rising up like flying. It's all so beautiful.


Boobsong just pops like a jump-cut and our hands are all piled up on the long handle of her hammerform, with her head resting on the table in front of us.

In the vision, as I rise, my light blows the floor of the little room away like ash to reveal pretty candy-color grass underneath, just like the rest of the hill it was on. Everything there looks so good. It's all so finally bright enough. I wish daddy could see this. He named me Ultrabrilliance and I think this is what he meant. This is such a vision. The landscape goes on forever with hills and valleys and soft-looking roads and forests all so brightly colored I feel alive just seeing them. If I didn't know better I'd say this was a real place my light was making.

We're like, inside the monolith right now, I can see its sides rotating like a spinning mirror around us and the pentagram around the bottom of it is centered on this table or so. 

The Sugarfreaks seem to be speechless. I stand, lift Boobsong's handle as I get up--

"Rainbow is the monolith?!"

"It's everyone! It's moving, see?"

I work my way out from behind the chair to stand with them, and raise Boobsong over my shoulder, ready. Let's have some fun, Acme Station.


Alright here's something I know as a Siren because I'm fizzblasting deciding it. If this is the real one this time, if this cake's not a lie like this morning's when the Holidays came to pick us up--dammit the Dreams were ahead of me Tuchyuh was baking it the whole time--I ate fifty stickybuns--no I stand by this. If this cake's not a lie there will be cake when we've hammered this, artificial and American-style. Tuchyuh's cake has a moment but this kind of cake comes when you want it to, that's the point of it, plastic-wrapped party in a packet ready to go, anytime. That, after all, is the American Way that was left after we refined all the bad stuff out.

Green checkmark. A huge blast of light from me that knocks my view sideways for a moment with its force in the vision splashes the the rainbow landscape into curls and arcs and flying candy blobs of land and water like the True and Painted Seas, a billion trillion different ups downs sideswayses and fun slides and falls and flights and climbs between them.

"How can we hit it? The angle won't work--"

With my Lens I make floating mirrors in front and back of us, big as doorways, but they reflect the brilliant world I'm seeing in my vision.

"That's beautiful! Are we going there?"

"What're you looking at right now? How can you see this?"

I level Boobsong at it, like to point, the Sugarfreaks keep their hands faithfully in place. They're holding each other's hands as much as mine or Boobsong's handle, good.

"That's a huge black mirror--"

Click, portal.

Sending portal stream out both ends....pyah! PORTALFIED!

Hehe, surprise, you're here!

The mirror turns into a doorway to just behind us, and I can see the monolith turning around us with Boobsong raised, and our three very curvaceous nice backsides, made of the scene, not in it.

"Understand yet?"

"That's your view of us here--Rainbow, I'm...just some Sugarfreak--"

It's Doorway Girl--hehe, here we go with her name being some big metaphor. Backroom, too.

"Do you know the real reason the Dreams made me a Siren? Why me?"

I can see her look at me through the portal.

"You're Rainbow Starshine Strawberry, of course they made you a Siren!"

"No. I'm just some kid. They did it to make me happy."

"And you did that for us. We're all Sirens now."

"That's the Dreams' to say, but you sure are Sugarfreaks, and you're hitting this monolith with me."

I raise Boobsong back, our target moves with us of course, I bring the portals a little closer so the distance will be right, make sure they're tall enough.

"Okay. You'll aim true, don't worry about precision. Worry about showing me that if one single thing I ever said or did meant the slightest thing to you you're hitting this with all your strength and then some. You don't need candy or super strength, just the fire in your heart, and all of you burn as bright as that world you just saw. That was how you look to me. I'm sure glad you're here, because the Four Dreams wouldn't be Paradise without you. Put that that you've been showing me since I laid eyes on you in here into your swing. Ready?"



In the vision, doors are opening in the sky, and people looking through them. Someone starts to climb down through one, and I'm not sure if it's because I want it to or think it should or make it or it's just happening but a swoopily-arched stairway comes up to meet them, and then everyone is coming through onto floating bridges and islands and stairways and roads to the beautiful landscape. Everything is still as gorgeous but the molten-gemstone fire has cooled so there's soothing shadow now, and it won't burn humans.

Dreams whatever--no, I'm a Siren--

Green checkmark, then a flipped table. These are the Strawberries, and all the other people of the Strawberry World, and the Dreams are way ahead of me, they're here. I meant my portals I cut for them to leave through to go to the Dreams, and here they are. Stars are coming out in the background, other worlds, the way to all of Paradise is open to them but...this is the Paradise their Grandmother Princess made them, if they want it.

In a way I think the Dreams can't not be here. We spent three thousand years preparing and Dreaming with a capital D and now the Strawberry people are carrying their Dreams of Paradise in through those portals just as surely as if I commanded them in to my new universe.

I raise Boobsong back and shift onto my back foot to wind up and then swing with all my strength and blast my wings out at the last second to push us all forward and Boobsong looks so beautiful in all of our hands arcing down like in slow motion and she lines up perfectly and hits the monolith with that weird soundless BOOM--

Explosion rushing out shockwave of everything like streaming rushing light the stone monolith at Strawberry Home that one Sugarfreak looking down to see the gravel tapping my tower to rescue Magic with her Magic The Gathering card looking up at the Painted Sea from my hottub Copper trying out her electro-spell and spreading tarot cards blasting ghosts at Ragnarok with Sparkledust the towering flames of the bookburning portal pulling back like curtains as we zoomed back out carry everyone sitting in a coffee shop editing a Starlight Princess book with Boobsong seeing Backroom's collar up close through Doorway Girl's eyes and then their kiss the order slip in front of me as I kiss my candy hello onto it Kaari's pride with the Power Suit and her putting the helmet on even though it weighed like four hundred pounds light furious brilliant every-wavelength blazing light with the dark black background of my anti-light behind making it seems so beautifully impossibly bright and then it's over and the portals are gone and we're all panting from screaming which we all were as we swung and Boobsong's hammer-head is resting on the edge of the table and there's a big chocolate-and-rainbow frosted four-tier square cake with the tiers on tall legs and a plastic Boobsong in ponyform rearing up on top with me riding her holding out my eravahk like I'm saying charge and the whole thing looks so yummily store-bought with its perfect icing and sugary smell.

I stare at the cake past Boobsong, challenging, daring it to not be actually there.

It stays.

Click. Boobsong rushing back into dollform in my hands and then our Predicament is pulling my hands to clutch her dolly-style for the microsecond I'm not grabbing her even faster mine my dolly. The Sugarfreaks let go as I grab her.


Capped so comfortably...for the next fifteen seconds with these two here!

If that long!

The sugarfreaks are all speechless. I stare at the cake some more as if to say come on, punk, make my day, but it obstinately sits there, just being a cake. I walk up and square off with it beside the table, the Sugarfreaks follow quite happy to stay snuggly until told otherwise. I lean in and smell the cake. It smells like whipped-sugar frosting and chocolate and storebought cake mix.

Can I do this special case, game? Sugarfreaks are here even if I just want my dolly, but I need the...touch. I reach out for the top tier like a naughty four year old and scoop--oh my fuck it's frozen. This is a huge Pepperidge Farm cake. Way to up the ante, Dreams, I love those! Eating them with your hands while while they're still frozen is the best. You can pick up the frosting in your fingers and break the layers apart and it's so much fun and so yummy. I quickly laser myself a huge corner piece and pick it out like I'm taking a book off the shelf and peel the frosting off the top by biting it and get a big slab like peeling ice up from a frozen puddle when you're a kid and I chomp it up appraisingly.

Real, good, sugary chocolatey yum. It melts as I chew into tasty frosting goo.

"Let us help you?"

It's Backroom, to my right, so cute with her boingy butterfly antenna. I hand her the slice with a grin, and open my mouth, and she very sweetly peels the rest of the top frosting off and pops it into my mouth and I close quickly to catch her fingers and lick them real good, then turn back to the cake.

My Lens can...make my light come out where I want it to, not just from me, and my...machinery...can make stuff like this come out right. Right? I laser each layer of the cake into sixteen (four by four) neat squares with sheets of light that exist only where they need to cut, arranged by my Lens. It feels really good and heart-healing to do that. Daddy's glue goes wild fixing stuff.

Really good, more please! Also more cake. I turn to Backroom and open wide again, and she peels at the top layer of the cake, but the huge slice is obstinate and when she gets it free it pops out of her fingers and lands in her cleavage--


I giggle as she fumbles for it catches it and holds it up, then take a silly-huge bite that gets chocolate all over my cheeks and look at her messy cleavage, smiling as I nom, considering the cake.

"Why is there a cake here,"

Asks poor forgotten Doorway Girl from behind me. I reach around and grab her waist with my free hand and put her beside her girlfriend, they kiss with Doorway Girl on tiptoe and pulling down on Backroom's collar, we all wait to see if my lip gloss goes off again but it doesn't, and they both turn to look at me again. Much better. And shoving them together was fun.

"Several trillion years ago by which I mean this morning I had a terrible flashback and then I thought there was birthday cake to comfort me but it was a lie, so I said to the Dreams if this one's for real if it's really party time now and this cake isn't a lie it'll literally be here American-style so here it is as a huge Pepperidge Farm--cake--oh my fizzfrozen double-chocolate sugarcookie dipping sauce. Pepperidge Farm remembers. Good one, Dreams."

"Did you forget something?"

It's Doorway Girl. They don't know.

"Boobsong's name," I sob.

Backroom just holds up cake, looking kind. I nom the rest of that layer, and she pushes it in to cram the whole piece. I'm sure she wants more finger-licks but I can tell, this girl knows what it looks like when a girlfriend needs chocolate. I lick her fingers and then munch the satisfying mouthful of icy fluffy chocolate goodness considering how I should be arranging one way or another for the frosting in her cleavage to get licked--

"The monolith we just hit, what number was that,"

asks Doorway Girl.

"Sixty-seven. Only two more now. This is like our future or something."

She looks at Backroom, looks me up and down, and they both glomp hugs onto either side of me.

"Cake for everyone," I mumble, and add, "I don't care what piece I'm eating as long as there's chocolate."

Then I make a candy that will go [ Somewhere Inside the Cake ], even I don't know where, but winner gets it...and to feel whatever my tongue's doing like it's pressed against her pussy until she cums next. It happens perfectly, just as I intend it to. The candy is somewhere in this cake, don't ask me where! I didn't say how it looks, but I think it came out as a jellybean for tradition's sake.

This has evil possibilities oh yes it does. Aaaaahahahaha! Why don't they just beam antimatter over there? Because that's a boring thing to beam!

I wait a long time, for the next thing to happen. It doesn't. We all just stand there hugging. Nobody bursts in, nothing gives me horrible flashbacks, I don't even think the Dreams are letting the cake melt, from how it was when I had some after staring it down for like twenty minutes.

"...wait, how could you not know what number monolith that was, there's no way you have a fizzbubbly red-and-white checked dewrag and you haven't seen the episodes I must be going to make of this! Oh fizzfrozen flamethrower pushpops you guys are now-now-ing me, aren't you."

"We haven't see you in seven years."

Doorway Girl is being very Not Upset With You but still!? For real what is going on here.

We're...this is really Earth and not a like little pocket Olympic Pizza close or something. Before the stage show that took everyone to Strawberry Home, though. Haven't made that big splash yet--wait WHAT!?

"SEVEN YEARS!? How could the Dreams let you go so long without me!? Isn't my future self out there epically dickwaving about how she opened the worldgate finally? Have you had not one new episode in all that time!?"

Guess my mommy instincts are working even if my ability to believe in this cake isn't.

"We only got to Rl'yeh Sade this afternoon! There was this scary shift like the Earth got moved and there we were. Here we are I guess. It wasn't like we missed you, our minds got raped with this dream where no magic except cards and sightseeing even sometimes worked, I forgot myself, I forgot my pet, like you forgot Boobsong's name--Rainbow, if it got you too, how are we here now?"

Hehe, Backroom is very pet. I ship these two so hard. I'm starting to see--oh. Is there kind of like, a reason we started with Sex and her particular kink about us? Because I'm like so horny to make these two even more in love. Literally it's like getting me off, this is the weirdest.

If you're going to be the springtime festival patron how can you not be that way?

The Dreams give me a green checkmark that's kind of random but I think I know why. I kind of want to, like, it's not like sex and her dolls, it's like, I can almost see, I've seen their love and I'm convinced I can file off that last little bit of self control that holds them back from losing themselves totally in the joy of each other...power yes fun (green checkmark), calling dance is great, but...I can make them go insane. I know that power's in me. Alien Sex Pollen as a trope is just me having a very uncreative day making candy. There's a real way to do this that's beautiful.

And, you know, nonconsensually (green checkmark) makes you a slave to your passions so you can have a good hot orgy or enjoy your lover like we just were...that's what that candy was, the order slip, that, distilled, like the sugar or maybe capsaicin and caffeine, yeah, I make my candy interesting with. Eat some and you just take person you want most as hard as you can, like me and Boobsong, until you're wrung out, was how that order slip ended up, because I'm SO pent up on this, aaaah!

Hehe I wonder what their hands were doing, these Sugarfreaks. It made them cum, whatever it was!

It was so nice with Boobsong, too. I like teasey slow sex and playing power games (obedience, bondage, pain, titles, I'm a Princess, it's all power games to me) but it's really nice to just go whole hog when you want something...oh you wouldn't know really, would you, dolly.

That's okay, your Boobsong has the only way you can know right here, super safe, all apart...want to see rainbow cum on Backroom's face? Too bad, your dragon's not in sharing headspace. SHE NEVER IS GRRREEAAAH!

Sweet Dragon, I love you too. I guess I can say I know what it's like to need to bite so hard you're just a box of candy...

Anyways poor Sugarfreaks.

"Umm...Sirening hang on...something's really weird with me. Starlight Princess gets back on the air...I do it from here though. In my future, your past. I'm timebending to get this one. Monolith. I wasn't sure before but you two are Sirens, at least for this. You showed me something the Dreams has for me I forgot and now I'm itching for it. Thank you. Wait--"

"Okay somehow--ooh. This world's un-reset--um, that mindrape thing. Fixed. That must be enough spoiler tag to keep me from getting tangled up in this being my future. Starlight Princess gets back on the air soon, your soon, not your past. Duh. The last two monoliths could be anywhere in the Four Dreams, and anywhen, I'm going exploring to find them, and...missing Sugarfreaks, who got lost during the bad stuff. Or whole...THAT'S WHAT THAT WAS!"

They look up so attentive-sheepfully--UGH I need like a head-wash to get all these Christian metaphors out--anyway they await their goddess' continued instruction. There.

"You guys won't believe this. I found Gorean Starfleet, like it seems to be all binary masc doms and binary femme subs, and they've never heard of su'khora. Somehow. Despite who they've been partying with which is the real wham line--there's whole like, groups like that, travelling the Dreams but lost like out of touch like they're in that Baptist joke--I tell that lots, right?"

"They think they're the only ones here!"

Hehe, nothing like a stereo chorus to say yes.

"Like I don't get how this can be but somehow that mindrape thing left them lost that way--it's like a Christmas Carol, they need like, a Siren who can speak their language. Which is me I guess if it's Gorean Starfleet."

"It's because they need Sugarfeast, not Openveil like you'd think they would, like we just kind of did really. They've never seen this stuff and it's not the Happiliest Ever After for them to not get a personal touch...and it is pretty great like I'm Q's horny cousin to the Gorean Starfleeters--wait what's this um...they...have something big in store, and it's bigger than what we just did which I'll get to while our pizza bakes but that's a little terrifying, like I'm going to need my full bigtime mass production powers...great house fallen into ruin...oh, just, I really need to go all out for this one, they're inviting me to see what I can really do, because there's something out there that needs Sugarfeast like a falling star the way America did, but I'll be projecting this time, no, they're here but their hearts are shut...it's that Baptist joke, wait, oh holy screaming fizzy grape Necco wafers, it's literally the Baptist joke..."

There's more but I can't focus on it, even though it's pressing with importance-now. Keeper...

Small quick zap.

Her collar seems to snap shut on my neck for a second like her jaws so choking-good, and something like a tractor beam yanks my head up, not painfully, but fast and unstoppably, and the same force hot in my chest forces my heart to thunder like it's just standing on my gas pedal, caffeine that's cutting out the middle man, and about a hundred cups of coffee. It's only for a moment, but it sure wakes me up and reminds me. The rush feels like rage pumping through me, the same sudden fury being hit on the head gets but she figured out how to do that without pain.

Alright, who wants some? What's this important thing the Dreams are bugging me about?

"They're here but something's wrong. The Heaven that's the only place they can see the only place the Dreams can bring them like, is...not good, no, it isn't working and it has to...it's a heaven of their own design with a false god made in their own image which is what they explicitly say they want saving from but they can't take the truth of what infinite love actually is and the conflict is tearing their souls apart...the ones who can think that far...the rest...they want the Christian god but that's Aveh or it's nothing, and they know enough to be stuck by that, like, Aveh didn't create the whole multiverse, but no one being did but they won't talk to anything else and it has them offline. What can I do, then? If they won't take him they won't take me, I'll just be the wrong god's kid! I...can get in. And then fuck shit up. Green checkmark. But not just antichrist scare them out...bring them sexy stuff...break their will. It's already compromised, they'll be more in control of themselves being run by their passions like I'll be doing to you two nice little candies soon enough, so my job is to just drop in there with Boobsong and destroy any hope they had of where they are being Christian Heaven or their being Saved."

Worship pouring in from all three of my followers here. They think this is completely metal.

"But...we're going to need some crazy dreamskins to make this work. Depths of Rl'yeh Sade to heights of Isla Virgo, to make them all. Starlight Princess marathon...of the complete series. Search For the Monoliths ends when the search for the monoliths ends, how about that--it's okay, not even the Dreams can stop us making porn! We'll just start a new show! The point is this isn't happening until that last monolith is found and Walt and me and Boobsong make awesome porn of every moment of the road there."

How could they. How can this cake be here if there's this ahead.

I find myself going back to that moment on the raft, three sleeps or five thousand lifetimes ago or whatever it was. In between fucking Boobsong that "first" time and being picked up by Sis and Boobsong's game turning our life into a roller-coaster that only goes away from my Happily Ever After--

That's not what I meant to think but it's how I feel about this all. Even though I have so much back. It just supports what I was thinking, though.

In between those inevitability-trains there was a moment, where the world felt as big and open and free and wonderful as the True Sea above us. I've been waiting to get back there this whole time. I'd never felt that before. My whole life had just been one thing or another's mission or prophecy or war or some such shit. Even the Dreams got in on it.

And then I saw that, and it all ended. Not because I forgot. Because I breathed clear air and I could never go back into the claustrophobic chokingness of halberd practice when the barbarians were up the river. Ever since then, my heart's been there on that raft, and all this has just been fighting through whatever it takes to get back there, only to have one more thing, one more thing, one more thing. The Dreams make it look like the end is here, over and over, so I'll keep going.

If I'm just a gun to them, however complicated a gun they want, why let me have that? Did they just screw up?

Maybe the cruel irony is, Eden's what gave me that one true moment of Paradise, with all its plans making the Dreams compromise just to get me here. The Dreams would be smart enough to not let me see what my life could be, if I wasn't just a gun.

If so, it worked good. I'm not doing this heaven thing. Especially after this lie. 

But why are the Dreams so clumsy about this? Why say again I have to go help my worst enemies like this? If you ask me, they can rot. They had their chance. They were insulting and cruel to their own let alone my people or me and Boobsong ourselves and if they're there now their hearts are as cold and dead as this makes me feel, and yes, I am better, because I never maimed or killed one single one of them. They have a lot more blood than I do, on their hands, even if you count the whole Strawberry Dynasty against me. Sugarfeast isn't the solution they need. There's one that is, and it's very final, and if they're the ones I think stuck in their Baptist joke there like that, they sat around with their thumbs up their asses while it burned across Europe.

I'm not helping these people any more than I'd help the traitor court. Find some other Siren for this if you insist on saving them that way, Dreams. Let my Siren guidance be that getting to be a person even when you're in a holy role like this means getting to have your hurts instead of pretending they're not real to get something done. Let my sermon be that's you're impersonal, Dreams, because only a non-person with no ego to defend can have perfect mercy.

I remember the rewrite, what being a Christian preacher's kid was like. Turn the other cheek has got to be one of the cruelest things Christianity ever taught. What a brilliant way to keep cycles of abuse going and make sure nobody ever finds out what deescalation actually is.

It makes me think about the Great Divorce, which I also read in the rewrite. Jack's Hell was full of people drifting apart forever until everyone would be alone because they wouldn't make up. He couldn't imagine that sometimes it's just not right to make people reconnect, even if you heal the hurts, because the petty hurts of his sheltered life were all he could imagine. He had no idea what a lifetime of abuse does. How naiive. I knew that at thirteen. Maybe me and Them could make up, but the first step would be erasing both our minds so we start again from scratch. If we have the experiences, even subconsciously, we'll have the pain, too. I remembered nothing when I did the Strawberry apocalypse, but I knew just what to say. The hurt might heal, but the healing is just that it ever sleeps, and won't wake up for every tiny sound.

Whatever's in that "Heaven", is the same for me. I could maybe go and heal some, maybe, by not being the victim, there, but the tool for that's a chainsaw, not a dreamskin.

It worries me, that daddy and me have this kind of hurt between us. I don't want us to never fix it, but I take comfort in the idea that our both wanting to makes the difference.

Nothing in any universe can make me want to fix it with the Christians. There's just nothing there. I don't know them. I never did. Let one of their own help them.

But why are we back here? We did this with the Laarhi thing.

"My father's stuck in that. Do we have to wait all time to save him?"

It's Backroom--

I look at the cake, taste the bits still in my mouth.

Green checkmark.

"No. Because I'm not doing it. This cake tells me that's done--hear me out."

She was about to talk, looks so scared. Where did Princess Starlight go? Right here.

"This morning the Dreams told me the last four monoliths are of it being over. I can't find them if there's this still to do. But I don't have to, and you don't have to wait, because what I can and will do is help my beloved precious treasure of a Sugarfreak get her daddy back. You want to, yeah? Me not doing this is a message. Official Siren thing. There's no duty. That's what it says. The Dreams will save him if you don't, and if you're not ready now they'll make the time work, so think carefully and listen to your domme if that's your relationship. Is saving him what you want to say here. That's the question. I just spent most of this afternoon going to one hell after another to rescue my handmaidens, because for me with the answer there is hell yes of course. I went through something else a lot like that for the Holidays, same reason. But these Christians, to me they're just the people who didn't listen to me or Boobsong or you all for thirty years. I have no connection to them and I'm so mad I'll scare them even further into their hole if I go. Maybe, though, your dad can listen to his beautiful sweet daughter. So. If the answer's no, this isn't what you want to say, let's eat cake and make pizza. If the answer's yes, you have me and Acme Station's help, if we can help, and you can probably get him right now--but I don't think I can go with you. I had to rescue one of my handmaidens from this, and...if I'd been a Sugarfreak and come to her with a me there watching over, there's no way she could have felt safe enough to come back to me. I'd have been doomed. I'm the antichrist to his eyes, yeah? He'll just shut down, if I'm there. I might be able to do something someday, but that's the long way, and what do I say about the long way?"

"The only time you take the long way is when the time it takes is a good thing."

"Yeah. Whatever you need to do to decide for now, let's do it."

"If I can go, can Aveh help me? That's my help I want. I know that's big though."

Deep breath.

"He and I got really messed up in all the drama. He helped me with my handmaidens, when it came up, but we can't talk without both freaking out, so I don't know how that was for him. I think...game, can you set this up? I meant what I said. If I can help, I wanna, but daddy and me are really--yeah."

This gets Doorway Girl's attention:

"You call Aveh daddy!? That's huge! Happy hug!"

"Your game will set this up. Don't worry, Aveh's help is here for this. He sends his love and gives happy rays to hear you ask."

"I send mine back, and say thanks, daddy."

And when the time comes Acme Station here will pick up the bricks of every Christian church and hold them for me while I melt them to glass and we form them into a crystal bridge into the sky I can walk up and stand at the top of while the rest of everyone who somehow managed to have a relationship with my real daddy follows me up and we all say hi to him and I get his hug and he gets mine and then what kept us apart for so long will at last have done its supposed job.

"Temple waffle pancakes, thank you! Aveh too please say thanks from me--call it game, okay, game. You lost its name, huh."

"Yeah. I only even remembered Boobsong's my Keeper like halfway through this day."

How are you feeling here, Acme Station?

Sugarfreaks are our family. If they need help give it yes.

"I'm officially smiting this. What else, this isn't some lame Greek myth where you only get one request. Do you want to talk plans? This is my eighth one of these today."

To Doorway girl:

"Would you like me to stop going over your head?"

In response Doorway Girl grabs her sub's collar and pulls her down to domme-glare her.

"Take her help, pussy-face."

Can't smile hard enough, not enough face. They are so cute I want to explode. I love these two.

"Yes Captain,"

says Backroom very obediently, and Doorway Girl pulls her even further down to kiss her forehead, then pushes her up to look at me, smiling.

"I'm...supposed to tell you about my escape from Limbo with Boobsong...how she woke me up...literally, she climbed in my bed and I felt her and--oh my name. She called me Lucy, but my head was so messed up--and my everything, I got turned into a boy by the mindrape thing, or like that's the hell I woke up in--anyway I was so messed up I thought she said cutie even though looking back I was so hungry to hear her say how pretty I was. He's...going to be like that. Messed up that way. Like you're dealing with something more like Alzheimer's, than just his not being able to see his worldview isn't true. Don't give up. He'll know his kid. He's here at all, you'll get this."

"Aveh's help might or might not work. I played really close to the edge with my handmaidens...um...play on his seeking the real truth. He'll have some instinct there's something scary and awesome behind the stuff he's believed in all his life. Play on that. Daddy'll definitely be able to help you there, but don't be afraid to get a little fucked up."

I know to stop there--the Dreams guide me with little mental nudges through all of this, like my other Siren-ing. Some even rise to the level of visions I barely see. It's terrifying, because it feels like a long, long practiced skill that's coming back like walking in high heels, except this is more like tightrope walking or flying a space shuttle--and I woke up in the middle of a launch!

Extremely don't try this at home, kids. I'm still not convinced should be trying it, at least not live-fire this decade.

Apparently I should, but AAAAAAAAH!

It's not like I have more access to the Dreams than you or something though, reader. You can ask them everything I can, just not do this thing where you get up and talk like you are the Dreams. That's what they're doing here, or letting me do, I should say, with all this mental stuff. Just ask and hear them answer how's right for you, you'll get the same stuff I do.

Unless of course you train like me. Apparently.

More nudging:

"We can give you some Acme Station fun, a spooky toy to get his attention with. Something to point him the right way. He has an interest, yeah? Numbers or something?"

"He loves--Aveh's not the real Christian God, though. Cumbuckets."

I give her a "go on anyway" look.

"Okay well I was thinking he might listen if he saw my name in the Bible like the Bible code but my name. I know that's a simple thing, but Aveh could give him the numbers and then I would be there and he'd listen. He likes to hear numbers from heaven, he calls them."

"You're hugging two real live angels, and oh yes we can go Biblically accurate. Just to start I've already done the beam-of-light thing today, and Boobsong makes a totally hot zillions-of-eyes-thing, you should see it. Can we use that, somehow? As a Siren I can honestly say I'm a messenger of Heaven with a capital H. Something with that, not the Christian god but a friend of his..."

"The Illuminati. He's a conspiracy guy, yeah?"

"Yes! Very much so! He hates them, they're the badguys, after all, the antichrist runs them. How can we use them?"

"This is tricky. I played sneaky games with my handmaidens, telling them the Dreams were the holy spirit and stuff like that, but I think that worked because they're my handmaidens. It felt really awful, but they were in such bad places...we can get him without tricks. We can show him a secret as spooky and weird as he's known is there this whole time, that brings his daughter back. TV show Friends--"

"Oh that stupid palmtop thing. He needs a secret code to tell him where to find Aveh--how can there be no tricks? He can't take the truth that's real."

My eyes go wide. I've been convinced daddy was trying to break it, that all his compliance with Eden's mind control was malicious...holy screaming grape sherry...

"Daddy wasn't willing. He messed the Bible up, the truth is in it! Where, how, um...I'm in Revelation, how's that help--could that help? Chapter sixteen describes me."

"That never helped before though--is he still stuck like we were? Doesn't remember you or magic? Maybe then he could see...I have rainbow stockings, maybe I could be...secret codes! The name on the leg is in a language no-one speaks! That's a challenge, to my dad!"

"Friends TV show. I can barely even see Boobsong they're so loud with that...say we're friends, he needs to find that name out. Bible code something, hidden there in the text, he needs a code to find the secret name of the rider on the white horse..."

(if you're lucky enough to not know this, reader, there's two of those in the book of Revelation, the horseman of the apocalypse, and another one who has a "name on his leg in a language no-one can read" which once you realize that's a rainbow stocking on a girl named Rainbow is a nearly exact description of me riding Boobsong--John of Patmos was reading a monolith like the one at Strawberry home, to write his book)

"...so if he has numbers from heaven already, that he thinks are from the Christian god, what we need is the mapping to tell him the secret name is Rainbow! Okay this is so close now. Palmtop, Acme Station can make that but it needs some more, something big, like...your name. The palmtop's to make your numbers work...unless...what's your name, to him--wait--okay this is nuts but it really might be as simple as getting him to put the pieces together. He has numbers that say my name already. He got them from daddy. He just has to know they go here."

"You're kidding me. That's all he needs? Okay his numbers make coordinates in the Bible. Every word has one. He gets the numbers and makes messages out of the words. I bet there's one with Rainbow in it! Then all we need is to make him believe that's the secret name!"

"It's something with that whole stand and the door and knock thing. He'll have something like Rainbow knocks or whatever and you need to tell him that's Jesus and go on the rider being possibly Jesus, and then, and then seduce...oh not sexually obviously okay get all mysterious like you know who Rainbow is but let him find me himself."

"That'll drive him Bazooka Joe Comic Strip nuts! His daughter can't tell him, the conspiracy's got her, have to find Rainbow, hurry! It's part of the secret plan in the Bible, and she's god's chosen herald, this must be big! He's going to love this! It's not even lies! Okay, send me there--hup!"

Doorway girl has her down by the collar again.

"Going somewhere, cocksleeve?"

Backroom gulps.

"Please may I go save my father? I'll be back in seconds!"

Doorway girl answers in a sweetly hard-domme voice:

"Go and get your father back, and he can come here to eat with us--if that's okay."

"It--huh...might take a while, he has an adventure to go on. Conspiracy quest thing, he'll like it."

That's where to stop talking, but...to shape the scene right, there is more to say, but it's time for her to go, and...good luck kiss, hell yes, but I don't want to step on Doorway Girl's toes, but the Sugarfreaks have mind-control, they'd know what I'll use it for, I would respect relationships...for Baskers. Sugarfreaks have marks that shock them when I get close, so they'll be ready for my fun.

Doorway Girl kisses Backroom hard, still holding her collar tight, then lets her go, and she stands up and I grab her arm and press my face into her big soft cleavage to lick off the frosting still there with lots of tongue and a squiggly path to get all of it. She moans a chorus with Doorway Girl--ooh, neat! I pinch her nipple hard--well, her areola, it like, doesn't have a distinct nipple--as I lick, and they both squeak.

Alright hang onto your tits then, Doorway Girl, because I'm about to! I grab Backroom's breast and run my hand over its big softness, feel how her areola is a big expanse of nubbly flesh with a little indent--oh, hehe. I lean in to kiss her, our lips meet and she opens softly, hopefully--ooh. Well fine then, twist my arm, hehe. I push my huge long tongue deep in and at the same time explore her inverted nipple gently with a finger, and fuck her face for a moment with my tongue. Her mouth expands like a pussy almost, letting me in, her tongue licks at mine lovingly, and I flick to third person from our right to see how Doorway Girl's fun. Her eyes are shut and her mouth is wide and she look so blissful with her hands right where they should be between her legs...which means...

Backroom cums on me suddenly, gasping and arching against me and I lean into her (which leaves Boobsong quite lost in a world of huge-to-her boobs and midriffs)--

[!] Not so lost, this dolly's found right where she's suppose to be, in Princess' arms as she plays with fans!

Well, then, good. I lean harder into Backroom and fuck her face good as she cums, flick back in my head to look at her pretty closed eyes move. She's panting hard through her nose--when I let her have air--let's go full Siren here, youuuuu with your beautiful red-blushing cheeks and your squeaky moans and rushing breath love breath control okay PLUNGE. She lets out a last little meep as I push my thongue nice and deep to cut off her breathing and keep it there in her slippery nice girl-flavored throat and her eyes crack and then roll back as she writhes up and down, squirming desperately, and I flick to a moment of third person to see what this is doing to Doorway Girl whose airway's free to see her with a hand still on her pussy but she's not breathing either and she has a hand at her neck like she's trying to feel how I'm choking her.

Back to first person! Backroom is too fun to watch. She's a squirmy squeezy wiggly soft girly desperate mess, and her flush is deep red now, just a little more, there. I pull my tongue out of her, leave drops of oxygenating candy on her tongue as I go that'll bring her only as far back as "pleasantly out of breath"--and she disappears.

"Off she goes! If she's all out of breath it helps this."

Stop talking right there? Doorway Girl is still going as I turn to check her out. She's a bit tan I notice, with her apron gone, and nicely soft.

"I think there's something we don't know, because I can't stop myself! What's her trip if I'm this hard stuck to touch myself? EeeeeEEEAAAAAAH--"

Doorway cums again, panting hot little squeaks and stumbling back to the counter to brace with her free hand but not even slowing down on herself. Her mouth is wide and face full of pleasure but I can see the confusion, too.

"Something with this being heaven...I'm supposed to make her mark flare..."

I turn it up. Heart-healing flows. I bet I know what to do...

"I'm about to summon her back, three, two, one--"

How much control? It's a call, not a teleport. Call, come.

Just as Doorway subsides and her shaky hand falls away from her pussy, Backroom reappears, facing her Captain, and Doorway's arms and legs appear wrapped around her--she's been climbed again, hehe.

It really is good to see our fans have fun like this. There really must be something to what Boobsong said about me being made to be a springtime festival goddess, because this feels great. I like my kinked up artificially-flavored version, though. Sex is for connecting to loved ones and funtimes first and foremost, oh yes.

can say I've reproduced at a fertility goddess speed, with our millions of kids in thiry years, nut again, su'khora are the ultimate superstimulus.

But again. Good mistake though.

Doorway Girl climbs down, leads Backroom up to the table, takes a piece of cake and peels the top off it.

"Say aah."

Backroom aahs, and Doorway feeds her a big bite of cake. When she swallows it, Doorway asks:

"Now what just happened there? Were you cumming the whole way through?"

Backroom gets kind of blushy, looks at Doorway with her eyes down.

"Yes, I was. I went to see Aveh! He called my dad up, my dad said what's that sound--this is so just weird--I told him hi dad like in between cum-screams, and his voice got weird like all hard and he asked who I'm with so I just said who do you think and he dropped his phone--like we actually called him up, on the phone, and he picked it up and was all sad because I'm gone and Aveh said she's alive, you hear that joy, and I said dad the rainbow and he said what and I said rainbow screamed because I couldn't stop I came so hard, and then you called and I came back."

Shaking with laughter and warm with imagining her cum-screams I make a medal, solid gold, with a rainbow ribbon and gripper-thing on the back that'll stick to skin smoothly and coolly like a magnet. It says:

Found a situation where screaming OH GOD as she cums would just make Rainbow laugh.

I hold it out, to show her, they both look at it, read carefully--

"I SHOULD HAVE ARGH! You trained us well, though, it didn't even cross my mind!"

"Well done, then."

She steps forward and stands up tall with her hands back and I stick the medal on the top of her left breast so the ribbon will hang over the curve prettily.

"It worked. He's off on his quest and it's epic, there's like motorbike chases and secret messages on the Declaration of Independence. He's...in a place where they couldn't know what the Four Dreams really are, but...it's time for that to change and he's at the center of it. He's starting like...this whole new cult, okay I guess it's working because somehow they're already worshipping me!? Yeah, that's the stuff...he must have got your clue fast, or time's all weird! I see a lady with silver hair, like kind of permed? Not Boobsong, oldish."

"That's my dad's girlfriend--he's divorced. His nightmare's stopped, the Dreams just said!"

I grin.

"Congratulations! He's...he'll be a bit yet, he has to see the Four Dreams' love and get their whole unpersonal thing, but he's on his way. We should just chill, he'll find you when he finds you. He will, too. He's on his daughter's trail and you're his guiding light, this is just bigger than he could possibly have imagined. Ever since he was small he knew there was a secret conspiracy of goodguys behind the church he could see, and he just found them. They're just like him. The Rider's friends."

"Oh my fuck, he'll love this, yeah. He's going to have stoooories!"

Gratitude floods off her so bright even I can feel it. She really loves her dad.

"How--I know you were cumming, but that you could see, how was my dad?"

"He was kind. The Dreams put me in his hand like where he holds stuff but it wasn't starry I felt like a hand holding me and the phone was real but like nineteen ten style. He picked it up and held it for me so I could stay all squirmy and talk. It's your dad, said this like feeling in my heart, and I knew that was him--Aveh. It's very weird--I guess you know. He seemed okay. It's hard to tell, he's not human, not at all nope! I think he liked your little friend and thought I was cute. That was it, I came and went--from Aveh's hand! That story'll blow some minds!"

A healing flood as I let the knowledge that daddy talks in heart-sounds take its right place.

And how inhuman he is. It's nothing like with Uncle Dagon or Auntie Lucifer. Humans who make myths about my family tend to make strange dark gods of us, and it's not that wrong with daddy.

"That sounds like him, yeah. Daddy loves toys. He...made you the kind of phone I like. Oh daddy."

Game am I just a bitch? Should I just call him? Half of what felt weird is not remembering he talks in heart-sounds.

You're still hurt, but this really helped.

...yeah. It still...ouch...

I have to stop thinking about it there.

Now have fun. That's all there is here to do. Even Them, that's over too, I'll never see Them, there's not some coda to their stuff.

Right? Yes. Really yes. Actually, really, yes.

Gulp. Please please be right.

Yeah. It is.

I look at Boobsong in my arms, at Olympic Pizza, at the cake, at my Sugarfreaks--Doorway Girl is feeding Backroom more cake.

I just wait a moment. To make sure. To drink it in. Take a deep, deep, shaky breath.

Nothing happens but Backroom getting the cake she deserves.

I was about to go out, thinking that Christian-heaven-busting thing was ahead of me, but this was fun--fine, I going to say, but fun, yes it was, it had me smiling the whole way. Thinking of Backroom's dad running around finding out just how deep the rabbit hole goes is warm fuzzies all the way. I hope we get to him in an epic way--hehe, some public performance of ours, on a ship if I'm getting this--no, there's no way, is there?

Spoilers. I don't get to know this way. Good, that'd be boring.

No it's defintely like, boats on water, no the USS Titan or anything like that.

This is all very National Treasure (the Nicholas Cage movie) flavored. That sounds fun.

But exploring that is just one more compass direction in all the different ways we could just set out now--yes, that's a way. The Illuminati working for us isn't made up.

Shot of hot intense heart-healing when I double-check on that? Ooh, worship, I turn my mind towards people and I can feel their worship and the Illuminati are intense, like whiskey or something, because they're a fanatical secret society trying to make the apocalypse happen. My Sugarfreaks aren't less intense but their worship is more, well, sugary-sweet and wet with emotion and love.

Except the Illuminati's job is done now, so they--oooh. How boring would that be? MUAAHAH time to go give some mysterious instructions soon. What can I do with a fanatical secret society who just finished making the apocalypse happen? This hard-stuff worship I'm feeling is the ones who still want to play We Are the Conspiracy after landing in Rl'yeh Sade. Keter-level uncontainable Mommy and her mythically accurate angel sidekick are coming, fans!

So why was saving Backroom's dad just good when I felt so betrayed to learn that Christian-heaven thing and made Not Doing It into an official Siren statement? Yes, because there's no duty. The Dreams have a way, and the question isn't if you're going to do your homework, it's if you want to play or not, this is true and important and bears saying again. My handmaidens would have been fine without me but there's no way I'm not having it be me who saved them, so down we went. Even that bookburning thing, really got my compassion up, yeah, but I've ever been trans (in the sense of having to find myself after she got buried until the wrong body and gender role), and my handmaidens were in there and like, I'm a brute force kind of girl. Never shoot where you can use grenades.

All that stuff works, because it's human. It can be a good thing, and good for your soul, for your recognition of your enemies' personhood to be bigger than how much you hate their guts. It's dangerous to forget that...but there are limits. It's inhuman to ask someone to keep sacrificing to help people who hurt them for decades, or force them to reconcile, like I've been saying about Them and the Christians. There's no Happily Ever After, that way. That was my Siren guidance about Not Doing the Christian Heaven thing.

But it's human to care about your loved ones and go through hell to get them out of a bad situation because you'll be damned if you're going to sit in a hot tub while they're stuck in hell. It's human to help your friend and I guess for me follower (you're on my crew, I find myself thinking of Backroom, like this is Firefly) and be happy with them when it works out. I found the energy for that in a heartbeat.

Helping my friend get her daddy back instead of one more pint of blood for my enemies. See the difference? There's always some kind of connection like that, the Dreams can use, and be the un-human world of ultimate mercy humans have to dream about or die of broken hearts, without being made of the un-humanity of making everyone act out more mercy than they can do.

I think we might have even just done the Christian-Heaven thing, if Backroom's dad is going to be like I'm understanding here. Blown the top off the whole conspiracy, lit a fire, you know the type. Yeah. Muahah. He really is going to have stories.

In which case if I hadn't been all messed up and traumatized, I would and should have just trusted the Dreams instead of all that about the cake and Not Doing It and everything because they would have just made it good like they did here and I would have known, right?

No. Never. Exactly, precisely not. One is still Paradise where a human can be themself like that little robot keeping its spacedock can be itself, while the other's a slaughterhouse. How you come to things matters. One is powered by your love of your family or even just herd, while the other just means leaving your heart behind to do what's Right.

Stars make light from their feelings like perpetual motion machines, but humans have the same kind of power in their way, or su'khora wouldn't feed on them. Paradise is built from that passion and love, and it's powerful like those feelings are. The alternative, is what Eden was. Grinding people up to keep going--and look what I said there: was. The herd has an impulse, as a whole, to sacrifice members to survive, but that's only for when it's in trouble. Mistaking that for the ultimate good, is mistaking a sneeze for an orgasm. Sneezing constantly forever isn't strength, it's a cold that you're dying of.

I'm saying this human-ly to get through to you. To play on your heartstrings. You almost definitely are human if you're reading this, but it works for su'khora, stars, everything. I include you in this, in my meaning of "human" here, if you're one of those instead. You might have some different feelings about stuff, but all those things and much more all have hearts, and hearts have love in them. That's their consciousness. Love makes you specific, gives you life, you can love lots of stuff and billions of people, but boundedness is part of consciousness. It's to see existence from a place, a point of view, to have things you like and don't like about it. To be a star in the sky, kinda.

The Christian idea of "God" builds hell right into existence. If the only real good is one single point, a star at the center of the sky, there's no way to not have some things be damned to be far from it, just because they're different. Even if every consciousness could be as close to "God" as it wanted, that would mean there was a basic choice between being you and some amount of damnation, or just existing as copies of god. That's not Heaven. That's that last fight scene at the end of the third Matrix movie.

Christian philosophers try to fix that by saying God's a circle whose center is everywhere and boundary is nowhere. That makes sense as an idea, believe it or not, but think about what that really is. They're just saying "everything". That's all of existence. That's not a person, because now there's no point of view. There's no self or ego because those are bounded things, and if there is, somewhere in this flood of existing stuff, now we're back to that center point. You can either believe in that center point under the covers of these words, and believe so much stuff is damn, just because of who it is, or believe there's no center point--but that's not a person, there's no God in that. It's just everything. It can't be your daddy, or even your dominant, because what point in it are you talking to, when you relate to those?

I'll tell you who. Me, or daddy, or these Sugarfreaks--we just said, that's everything. There's no meaning, see?

But there's another thing. It also means Them, and the Baptists. Hell is connection, sometimes. If there was a god, that was everything, if we were all part of some huge consciousness experiencing itself, it'd mean, for me, one day going back to having Christians not listen to me as they damn everyone for the sake of their own closed-mindedness, or being tossed around court at Strawberry Home like a stormy sea. Those experiences separate me from those people eternally, with the alternative of un-having the experiences that made that rift, which would be not being me anymore. I'll fight that to the death, and my ghost will keep going, but think of yourself here. Do you want that for your ultimate truth?

It doesn't matter, because I sure don't, and the Dreams will back me up, and you don't have the firepower to make me even without that help. As long as that's true, as long as one being like me exists, that "ultimate truth", can never be. You can't fix this by saying trauma is temporary, because my Fairy heart breaks to think my Keeper can't take charge of me over anything. Is that a scary thought? Yes. What if she keeps me wrong? She's good, but she's a person. Her point of view has limits, she might mess up, but my Keeper has to be a person, too, so I'm stuck with that, or my Fairy heart breaks. If she's as perfect as the Christian god supposedly is, no more person there, just an abstraction, and my heart dies. I'm one of those damned things, in the Christian world, just because of what I am. I have the wrong Keeper, you say? No, because if Boobsong isn't the Keeper for me, I'm not me. That's someone else.

I mean, unless we're both wrong, Christian, and Boobsong is God. But now that's your hell, see? Even if she loves you, you can't love her.

But aren't I damned, in a way, to Boobsong's eventual mistakes? One day she'll make them. Nothing is perfect...but she's a person, still, and she can be in relationship with other beings than me, and with a world outside herself. She can take advice from her family, and friends, and the Dreams, and use it, because she loves them and me. Those things can't constrain or coerce her, she can always leave like we've threatened here, but in the end, coercion and power, as much as I love a to play with them, aren't the way to Happily Ever After, they're toys in its hands. Love is the only hope of a good world. The alternative is rules that eventually fail someone, so bad it unravels them. It looks like rules can be enough on Earth, because a century of life isn't long enough for them to fail. I'll take a hand that slips sometimes, over those grinding gears and the clock ticking down to my turn to be eaten by them, any day.

Now, one last thing. A thing like Eden is still just a really complicated machine with lots of parts. Not alive, no love in it. You can say this about biology, sometimes, if you look carefully. It looks like a computer, solving the cold equation: how does this system keep going, and expand. We call that cancer, when it happens to people.

The un-human thing, you have to understand, to have Paradise, is even though that's true, there can still be loving hands, without a person there. That's what the Dreams are.

How the hell can that be? I just said love is consciousness.

The Dreams are like the herd, the huge abstract thing, that takes care of you. Humans put their love into that, but their love is for people, not an abstract. The Dreams are the herd of all good things, taking care of each member, each person, as a unique special individual, precious and loved, from the eternal infinite world they exist as, where there's no choosing between the good of the herd and the good of a person. To a human, that's a real thing. Humans live in that, touch that abstraction just as sure as the ground they stand on, for them it's as solid as daddy's pudding a human can't see is to me. Many stars can't, that's why they live in the astral plane and have shells made of plasma in math-worlds. They're too individual. Auntie Lucifer and others can, so they do, and you'll meet them in Paradise, because they like it there for the same reasons you will. They're human-ish.

Or maybe humans are starry. There's common ground, or we couldn't look up at them, or they down at us. Either way, out of that common ground, where human herd-love and individual-love come together as a starry-solid abstraction, Paradise springs as inevitable as the logic that makes the springs of Boobsong's jump-machine bounce us off number.

But look what happened here. You can see this, maybe, as I talk in the abstract terms, as lines and spaces on paper, or a network of thoughts in your head. Does it feel real to you? Not really, if you're honest, even though I've told the truth.

The only way humans or things like them (which is what I've meant by human here, really) find Paradise, is through stories, like the Five Pointed Star--or this one, I've been telling here, I can see with my Siren-sense.

That's hard thing to say. This day feels like hell as much as heaven, and I don't mean the parts that literally were hell because I was saving handmaidens, but waking up in hell, if the Dreams sent the wakup call to find their lost herd-member and bring her home, is still waking up in hell, and I've been coming back, this whole way. I thought it was done on that raft that day, because there it was, all around us, and in my arms, Heaven, but I was carrying so much hell with me, lies about who I am and what the Dreams are and...what it is to be part of something. I'm a star, people orbit me like these Sugarfreaks, and the Dreams aren't asking me not to be, but I have sweet and kind family my size, as they showed me as soon as I woke up from statue time this morning, too, with Auntie Lucifer outside that window, and...how many times today have I thought the only way to be safe is as me and Boobsong against everyone?

How many times have I come close to not even thinking it's me and Boobsong against everyone?

They've let me run, when I freak out. Sometimes that's the kindest thing you can do. Other times, we've fought our way out, or made it impossible for them to show me, they've been inviting me to come to the party, not be lost in the collective, this whole time. That's why the monolith in Strawberry Home has my birthday invitation on it. It's not replaced now, that was always part of the prophecy, just too far off to see clearly. Come play, they've been kindly, excitedly saying, this whole way. We want you here. As yourself, not a warm body or a gear for machines or to be professionally doing a job with your heart down cold. The very first thing this morning they did was put me and Boobsong with a person I could say that to, so I could see it from their side.

Am I a wind-up toy, then? Is Sex to me? I love her. She's a person with really weird kinks that are fun to me, and a complete weirdo, and works now even more weirdly than when I found her, but...I love those things about her. My life takes a shape it couldn't without her. The Dreams want to grow, just like a herd does, be as big as they can. The difference from Eden is, instead of destroying everything that won't become the exact gears it wants, Paradise says, come add your fun to our fun, and see how much more there is, than the sum of those parts.

That sounds like the Borg, yeah? Your technological and cultural distinctiveness will be added to our own--except the Borg don't mean that. In Borg-land, after me and Backroom's dad both get assimilated, we look like drones, with different arrangements of the same implants. Where is our technological and cultural distinctiveness there? Erased, gone. The Borg would look like the Dreams, if they meant what they say with that.

In the Four Dreams, the Illuminati are run by a girl named Rainbow and they've infiltrated Gorean Starfleet (I mean, who else are those fans on the bridge of the Titan going to be) to help her save her handmaiden from hell while also teaching the Gorean Starfleeters a valuable lesson about exploration and introducing them to the magic of Succubi who reproduce by making your waifu come to life, but to rescue that handmaiden they'll need the Skeksis' help which is okay because the Skeksis are goodguys actually they just need their Princess to come back but she doesn't know who they are or that she and they are the Chozo until she finds out they built her the Power Suit she'll need to rescue her other handmaiden and incidentally declare war on bad sex education as a concept and send the Chyajjoh army to deal with it and all of that's directed by a prophecy that's millions of years old that even the stars are following...and that's five minutes of one day here. That's the fun they've been inviting me and Boobsong to, the whole time--but there's that word They again. That's the hell I've been carrying. We fall into nightmares when I forget there's a difference between the They of the Dreams and the They of the traitorous court, or between Eden's Borg collective and the Dreams' party.

I can feel the Dreams around, now, touching, like a sheep must feel, or maybe a human at a football game at their team's stadium. If I stop clenching shut my eyes, I can feel the love in them, and how they can give me the empty space and solitude with just Boobsong, too, I need, without leaving that. Their love includes space for all--but it's the closeness, that's been so hard for me, and not becaus I'm a star that needs to shine. Even stars have stuff orbit them. The thing I need to remember, is we have happy fans, and friends and family who love us, but also, the strangers' kindness I was going to show Sex this morning before I knew she's my handmaiden. I'm not constantly buying our place in this with something I give. I exist, so I'm welcome here.

It's the smallest most flickery flame that'll go out in the slightest breeze, but thinking that I can look forward with horniness to that day a week when that's all we get, when our only way to fuck--Boobsong and me--is if others make us.

That was that wish before, to get lost in Rl'yeh Sade with nothing to my name but Boobsong and my eravahk, and no way to have more. We'd be okay like that. Even with no powers, no light or candy or Acme Station stuff or even shapeshifting.

That feels such a horny thought now. It's a way we could go from here, and it's important about it that it's a choice, now, I realize. We have everything, here in this moment. Phenomenal cosmic powers and a whole world of fans who adore us and will scream like these too did to see us back again, but we could set all that aside, and be no-one, find some part of Rl'yeh Sade where nobody knows our names and our powers are left behind and we're just two naked girls you can't even give clothes to and have that be wonderful. Have it not be insane to go there, from here, take that role in things, and know our fans and life will be waiting when we come back, instead of given away because we didn't constantly fight to keep them.

It's even a kind of hot thought that we might put all this down, and find we can never pick it up again. I don't think that will happen, because we'd have to stop loving all this stuff forever, but what if the Dreams just danced us so we never managed to own one single thing but each other, make a permanent home, even call dance like I do? Or even have anything but that love-of-the-herd, of strangers embracing us as we wander, just because we're people?

It's weird as a star to think of losing all your light and gravity, and not just go out to even imagine that, but...I think this is my human side saying it's hungry for the herd's love. This is important, though, because I think I might know where the last two monoliths are--no. Only...only one of them.

For one of the monoliths, we swear off every speck of the power that's been our life, even my Lens-stuff will get spiked most times, no Acme Station, not even shapeshifting for Boobsong, and set off into the darkness of Rl'yeh Sade bareassed, only knowing it's that wandering time, of nothing but the kindness of strangers in the moment we meet them, or the care of the Dreams themselves. That sounds lonesome, without family or friends, and I think at the end there won't be a way to even play family like strangers do on the road together, but the scary promise the Dreams make me now, is it won't be.

I suppose I can wish to start that, but my human heart needs a concrete door to see, to feel the fear and desire enough.

Facing out the door of the Rainbow Cathedral--no that's not what that is. The little chapel off the entrance, where you light candles to wish on Paradise, that's here now, but that black mirror floor it has for Rl'yeh Sade can finally open and swallow us, like we wanted, all those times, and we can be no-one. That's the way in, to that ride. Light the candle and wish there, and find ourselves going down through the looking glass, and up through the well.

Maybe it's not smart to plan this, but I can't help thinking there can't possibly be a more perfect final episode of Search for the Monoliths.

Which I guess means I'm hoping we'll find a way of filling this hunger without that absoluteness, that I can let myself have the love of the Sugarfreaks and Baskers and Strawberries and Heart Home and all of them, without thinking it's because I'm too scary to turn away from, or have too much to give to ignore me--because I don't, anymore. Even as a Siren, you can get everything I give other ways, and not just from other Sirens, except the personal touch, but there are as many of us as stars in the sky. In a way, we're already on that trip, because the only thing keeping my fans here now, is they love me. If I can realize that, they'll feel so much closer, even these two here whose devotion would burn me like fire even if I didn't feel it filling my chest like hot chocolate.

Oh. Fuck. I keep wanting to give them something really special, something to make their hearts sing, these two sweet little Sugarfreaks, but nothing seems right. Candy, a ride in the tour bus or Waifu, nectar from Boobsong or toys that my Lens makes. All that would feel good, but the closest thing so far has been helping Backroom save her dad, because it's us they're here for. Olympic Pizza is a way to be close to us by experiencing a favorite place of ours. Why else come here, on your first day of paradise, to make your Captain a pizza?

Rainbow come on, accept it. Let that be why.

We just found this all again. It'd be heartbreaking to walk away from it now--I mean right, dolly? For you too?

YES! Princess your Boobsong is hard long for the wish of going through that floor too, but our family, and Heartwarming presents to find, and pizza you ordered and fans by the millions and candy to make and give to give heart-stop fear you get off on, even Laarhi and THEM gone! Everything is perfect, let's stay, have fun!

Yeah. Well said, dolly.

If I do fill that hunger this way, will that change where that monolith is, or make the path shorter? It...could, yes. The future's not set, there's no fate but what we make.

You know, saying that, I think I've been over-explaining this Dreams thing. Read the story, you'll see...Mister Rogers wins again here, where all these different people and worlds come together in harmony, because his message is what the Dreams are saying, have been, this whole time, as kindly and softly as he always did, and as wholesome, even when it's as dark and monstrous as I've just been describing. This whole big prophecy, all that fate, still makes room for the people it's meant for, bends around them, as gently as Fred Rogers changing his shoes. It's all just the Dreams saying...won't you be our neighbor?

That's right, reader. This is the Crossover of Ultimate Destiny.

Welcome to Paradise.