1: I don't own any of the Bioware characters, settings and whatever else they got. I'm also not receiving any pay for this. Your ruined day is all the payment I need.

2: This chapter is a week early. I think I deserve a reward. Give me your reviews! It's like a cookie, but I can't eat it! Wait, I think I see a flaw in this plan...

3: I apologize for the use of the word Teratology. I like to think I learned that one through osmosis, because I certainly don't remember ever having looked it up.

I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while.

Oh ye of weak fortitude, you should really turn back now. Bad shit ahead.

Deadly Resurrection

Chapter XIII: Skeleton in the Closet

Shepard hated himself for taking pleasure in what he was doing to the girl, strangely even more as she came to resemble the woman he loved even more with each time he warped her.

He knew he shouldn't have done it. He should have sent her away, and then maybe gone to some far off corner of the galaxy and gone back to sleep. He should have resigned himself to being incomplete for eternity. He should have gone forth and gotten himself killed. He should have done a thousand other things, each more grisly than the last, but never this.

But he hadn't realized what he'd started until after he'd done it to begin with, and once he had it had only served as a sharp reminder of what he had lost.

What the girl had become was not a great improvement upon what she had been. As she came to be more and more like Tali the small differences were all that more jarring. There were moments of uncertainty, confusion that he could not remedy, no doubt from missing memories that he could not give her. Or some other vital component to her character that simple brainwashing couldn't replicate.

Each progression was yet another reminder of how far she still needed to go before the transformation was complete. Every quirk, every misplaced word and every awkward pause was a dagger in his heart, both for who she wasn't and what he was doing to her. It was a slow death, one she was not even aware she was contributing to with her happy delving into a past that was not her own.

And yet... She comforted him. Thinking about her silenced the whispers of despair that had come with Tali's destruction. He found himself wishing once more for flesh, if only to wrap them around the young woman and pretend that everything was alright. Their virtual world was as perfect as he could make it, almost wholly indistinguishable from reality. But there was something to be said for not being in control of everything, for simply being a part of something else. To be merely mortal, subject to the whims of nature and circumstance.

Shepard didn't know when exactly either of those feelings had started, the longing or the sense of superiority. But he decided not to linger on them too long.

As he watched the woman chew thoughtfully on some of the nigh-fossilized nutrient paste that still remained on the ship (Shepard had been both incredibly impressed and slightly horrified that the stuff had still been edible. The woman had been halfway through a tube before he could stop her, but apparently there had been little danger beyond the initial frustration of opening the damned tubes.) something on the edge of his perception attracted his attention.

Annoyed at being interrupted he focussed on the source of the disturbance, noting that the relay was active. That meant someone had entered the system, but he couldn't find them. With some trepidation searched the area, but could find nothing out of the ordinary about his surroundings. Remembering the last time he had allowed an enemy to get the better of him, Shepard remained wary even after this. A moment later he thought better of this and decided to drift back into the Reaper graveyard. That would give any pursuers reason to pause.

The young woman snapped her gaze up suddenly, looking instinctively towards a nearby viewing port with a small frown on her face.

"Shepard, why are we moving?"

"I just felt like moving around a bit." He deflected airily, though he kept up his vigilance. "Maybe smashing a Reaper or two a bit."

"You're really bad at lying." Came the deadpan retort, which drew Shepard up short. "What's really happening?"

Shepard withdrew his attention from his surveillance to address the woman, though it made him nervous to do so. There was no way of knowing what was out there.

"Something's out there, and I can't find it. I don't think they'll follow us into the Reaper cloud, so that's where we're headed."

"Ah... That makes sense." Her voice was tinged with slight amusement. "At least they're finally proving useful for something."

Shepard didn't answer, his attention already back on the task at hand.

He had already failed twice, and Tali had suffered for it both times. Well, not so much the second time. But he wasn't about risk everything yet again, especially now that he was so close-

There.

He felt a twinge of mass effect not far away from where he was headed, and instantly reached out with his biotics to snuff out the sources. He felt their small distortions flare and vanish, ripped apart by his power.

But there was still something out there, tiny distortions that moved too quickly for him to get a real lock on any of them. But how was that possible? Ships shouldn't be able to move that fast with such tiny mass effect fields. There had to be something more to this, some trick he had not accounted for.

A moment later he knew how it was possible when the hull of the Shepherd was breached, disrupting his neural networks for a moment as they tried to compensate for the sudden loss, something that left him reeling in confusion and muddled thought before he recovered.

They were attacking him!

It was unfathomable. It was impossible! Who would do such a thing, and with no warning to boot? How had they breached his barriers so easily? How had they known how to find him? It was not as if he had broadcasted his presence to the galaxy, and he hadn't seen a living soul once since arriving.

"Shepard, what's happening?" Tali asked fearfully, all other thoughts forgotten as the ship stirred around her.

Shepard ignored the imitation's question, and instead turned his focus to trying to locate the threat.

He found what he was looking for on the outer regions of the hull in the form of what looked like a strange sort of life-pod, frozen solid due to the superconductors nearby. His nano-machinery swarmed it, ripping secrets from the thing as they disassembled it to repair the damage done to the hull from its intrusion. A small amount of surprise went through him as he realized that someone was inside the thing, killed by the cold. And then there was a mounting sense of fear when he realized there were more of the things, and they might not all have been met with similar fates.

Frantically he scoured the rest of the breach sites, each corpse bringing a wave of relief while every empty pod brought with mounting fear. In the end, he accounted for four empty pods. four trespassers, their purposes in assaulting him unknown. They would have to be found, and quickly!

"Shepard!" There was a note of urgency in the woman's voice as she tried to gain his attention.

With some trepidation he turned his gaze back on the woman, and was relieved to see she was still alone.

"Everything's alright, Tali." He said, forcing himself to remain calm. "Just let me take care of some things, okay?"

"What things?" She demanded, standing up. "What's going on?"

"Someone's attacking us." He answered quickly. "And I am going to show them just how bad an idea that was."

"Attacking us? Why would-"

Shepard felt his consciousness suddenly torn violently away from the woman, forced instead to focus somewhere else. He had no control of what was happening, merely forced along by a stronger will. It was a wholly alien concept, something he had never encountered before. Even with the Reapers, there had been a struggle. Here, there was no choice other than to obey.

He stood in the deep blackness that he recognized as the initial stages of a neural connection, his holographic form alone in that infinite void.

"So, this is the 'Shepherd' I've been hearing so much about."

Shepard wheeled at the sound of a new voice, his blue eyes glaring hatefully at the source.

He did not recognize the stranger, a human male who seemed to be studying him closely. But he did recognize the white and blue insignia of Hecate, three faces arranged in a triangle superimposed on the old Cerberus insignia.

"I must say, I was rather expecting something a bit more extravagant." The man continued, oblivious to the baleful gaze Shepard was giving him. "You caused me quite a bit of trouble, showing up at the Second Fleet like that. We thought you'd been destroyed."

"You arranged that attack?" Shepard demanded, and felt his blood boil in his veins. Or, well, he got very angry.

"Well, no. But I did supply the intelligence that led to it, and believe me when I say my employers were not happy when my information turned out to be bad." The man raised a hand and snapped his fingers casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Shepard found himself in a world of pain, every memory of the sensation flaring in his mind with such strength that he lost all focus. After so long of nothing, the sudden agony threatened to overwhelm him completely. It coursed through his being like molten lead, burning him alive from the inside out. He writhed, shifting in and out of focus as he lost control of his form.

"I do not like to be wrong, Shepherd!" The man shouted, making his voice known above the pain. As if to put a point to this the pain surged through him with renewed power.

Shepard screamed, his voice a garbled mess of pain and fury and synthetics. The flanging, screeching cacophony erupting from the light that made up his mouth was a thing wholly alien to organic ears. The darkness around him was banished as he became nothing more than a flare of light, all traces of humanity vanished as he lost all thought to the agony.

And then as quickly as it had come it left him. He quickly regained control, though he still reeled from the sensation. He glared hatefully at the man in front of him who seemed wholly indifferent to what had happened.

"Look at you, pretending to be a person." The insult was merciless as the stranger sneered openly at him. "You can't even take a little pain without your pathetic little illusion breaking. It's not even funny."

"I'll kill you." Shepard hissed angrily, and tried to bend the world to his will as he had done so many times. Worryingly, nothing happened.

"No, you won't." Was the flippant reply. "You're not even alive anymore, Shepherd. You're a machine. And machines can be controlled."

"I am not a machine!" Shepard shouted back, yearning with every fibre of his being to tear the hateful little worm apart. "I am John Shepard!"

"A pathetic lie. Shepard's dead. You're just a remnant. A mistake." The man turned away suddenly, not bothering to look at the thing in front of him any longer. "But I will rectify that. Welcome to Hecate, Shepherd. We have plans for you."

And with that Shepard was abruptly thrown out of that dark world, back in control of the ship. Still hot with fury he reached out with his mind in search for the intruders, intent on murder. But he met resistance as he tried to do so, keeping him in place.

Confused and beginning to feel fear once again he tried once more. Again the ship failed to respond to his commands.

Desperate, Shepard tried to access any of his other systems. One by one, each and every one of them refused to obey his will.

For the first time in centuries, Shepard felt a helpless despair set in, realizing there was nothing he could do.

"Shepard?" The woman asked, weakly.

Her head hurt, a sudden pain that had come from nowhere. She didn't know why it had come, or why it filled her with worry, but it would not relent.

"Shepard?" She called again, louder this time.

What was happening? She'd been talking to him just a moment ago, and then he'd just vanished! Something was happening, something bad, but Shepard hadn't told her what.

She wished she had a weapon of some kind, something with which she could defend herself and maybe destroy whatever intruders had managed to sneak themselves on board. But there wasn't anything that she knew of that could be used as a weapon on the ship, which made a kind of sense. What point would there be in it, when she was the only person supposed to be there?

A distant memory came to her, one that made no sense. She remembered a ship, stolen from... Somewhere, she couldn't tell. It was a jumbled thought, and made no sense. But she remembered it, with a strange certainty. The ship would have weapons. It had to.

But that was not to be, it seemed.

As she rose to begin her search the doors to the bridge slid open and several human forms burst through, their weapons tracing her body as they moved.

"Don't move!" They shouted at her, and such was her surprise that she obeyed.

She was bound, arms behind her back, and kept under guard as the soldiers attempted to make sense of the mess that was the Shepherd's navigation systems.

"Shepard." She muttered quietly, hoping that somehow he would hear her call and respond.

But her saviour was silent. Shepard was gone.

Shepard, if his being were to be translated into physical terms, was ablaze with impotent rage as he struggled to free himself of his restrictions. Well, perhaps not screaming. A voice was required to make any kind of noise. But if he had the ability he would have sounded his intense displeasure at the change in the situation.

Even with his strange power over the machines of the Shepherd he could do nothing more than watch with mounting anger as these impudent insects invaded his halls and forced him to bow to their will. He hated them more for that, for binding him like some kind of animal. He was John Shepard, damn it! He deserved better than this!

Again he surged against the codes that locked him away from any of the powers he'd discovered since his revival, his mind aflame with fury at his predicament. He writhed and surged against them, throwing the whole of his consciousness into the effort in a desperate bid to free himself. But it wasn't enough, and he remained bound.

As he realized that he had been unsuccessful yet again despair began to set in. An urgency entered into his desperate attempt, but even that yielded nothing.

He withdrew from the barriers, disgruntled and increasingly worried. He had to break free. He had to save Tali.

With an almost forlorn wistfulness he probed the walls of his prison, searching desperately for something that might allow him to break free where brute strength had failed him.

Something moved. He could feel it, in a distant sort of way. It was a physical thing, one he wasn't used to after so long in his new form. Experimentally, he tried to shift his consciousness to this strange new sensation, but found it could not support him wholly. It was battered, broken and forgotten by him. But it had been overlooked by those who had bound him as well. Concentrating as hard as he could, he tried to guide his nanite-arrays to this form. With any luck they would be able to compensate for what it lacked.

For the first time in centuries, he opened his eyes and took in the darkness around him. As if sensing his annoyance at this his body flared with sudden luminescence, filling the room with dim red light. Shepard moved, and heard a low crackle as he broke free from what remained of his body.

It was quite distressing to see his flesh fall from his bones, leaving only the glittering steel, blackened skeletal remains and glowing red nanomachinery. He looked in silent amazement as his limbs moved perfectly even without muscles to guide them. They were instead held together and moved by the red glow that even now surged across him.

With renewed determination he forced himself to stand, wobbling slightly as he realized that balance would be difficult with any of the benefits of flesh. He pressed a hand against where he knew an entrance would be, and was deeply satisfied when it parted, exposing him to what had come to be called the Tomb.

Normally he would have taken the time to study his surroundings, attempt to make sense of the strange depictions. But he had only one thing on his mind right now, and that was inflicting as much pain as he possibly could on those who had thought they could cage him and not suffer for it.

Wires snapped free with electric sparks and hisses as he tore himself free of tiny room that had housed his remains for so long and took a careful first step outside, the first in centuries. Nanomachinery seethed from the walls and up his body, casting the room in darkness even as it lit him up like some kind of diabolic revenant.

He took a moment to regain his bearings, and then he was moving.

Nothing would stop him.

The woman who thought she was Tali'Zorah watched as the pulsing red arrays of waned in strength, then slowly darkened completely, throwing the room into an inky darkness.

She felt a weight she hadn't been aware of before withdraw from her mind, bringing with it a sudden revelation. As others began to panic at the sudden development she became more and more certain in herself, enjoying hugely the sudden feeling of being in control.

She was still aware of the greater consciousness, the true inhabitant of this vessel, but it was a distant sort of awareness. His thoughts arrived in her mind in whispers and snippets of frantic desperation, but with them came a growing certainty.

Her lips contorted into a small grin.

"He is free." She declared confidently, laughing internally at the quiet curses of her captors.

"Shut your face, freakshow." One of them ordered angrily, and a moment later she staggered as someone kicked her to the ground, the grinding her face painfully against the floor.

The blatant show of unease brought a real laugh to her mouth this time.

"He's coming." She told them, feeling a bizarre freedom in the proclamation. "He's going to destroy you!"

"I said shut up!"

This time she was kicked just below the ribs, a blow the forced the air from her lungs and silenced her laughter with a pained gasp. She heard the rest of them berate the one that had assaulted her, but she tuned them out.

She felt him, a presence in her mind that grew stronger with each passing moment. He was close, now. It wouldn't be long.

He didn't like this form.

It was far too restrictive, it was weak and most of all it limited him. He hadn't realized before just how much he had come to rely on the intricate and powerful neural networking that allowed him to process everything in the blink of an eye. How had he ever managed before? Somehow his past seemed just a little bit more fantastical, a little bit more alien.

Did that make him better than before? His power, when it wasn't denied him by tricks and traps, was unquestionably greater than before, and he his mind had never been sharper. Or had he become lesser than the man he had been? Despite his limitations, he'd been able to unite a galaxy and destroy those who had threatened it. Without that fantastic strength, he'd beaten back monsters that had threatened to end all sentient life. What did it say about him, that he had grown dependant upon it? Then again, his old form had more than mere bone to draw upon. So maybe things weren't as different as he'd first supposed.

He moved on, disregarding that line of thought. With each staggering, unsteady footstep something new rustled loose from his bones, some vestige of his previous humanity that he no longer had a need for. He steadied himself against the wall as he moved, his feet uncertain without any balance to guide them and centuries of disuse. Occasionally he felt a sudden feeling of loss or a stabbing pain as the falling remnants of his flesh took with them some long-disused implant, tearing them loose.

By the time he reached the bridge of the ship he was almost wholly skeletal, frayed wires hanging from his spine and ribcage and illuminated by a malevolent red glow from his nanomachinery. He could only imagine what kind of monster he must look like, a living study in morbid teratology. The thought would have brought a smile to his features if not for the simple fact that skulls are capable of little else.

He stood before the doors that he knew would take him to the invaders, and a small amount of glee he forced coat of nanomachinery to die down, shrouding his surroundings in gloom as he placed his bony fingertips on the door, willing it open.

The worried soldiers instantly whirled at the sudden movement, opening fire on something they could not see.

Shepard staggered back as he was struck by a few bullets, the sudden jerks in his body flinging sprays of nanomachinery off his body that flared brightly into life behind him and illuminating his form from behind, turning a shadowy figure into an impossible monster. For a moment he was afraid their onslaught would damage his body, but apparently his bones had become reinforced as more and more of it was converted into machine.

He threw himself forward, bursting into the room in spite of the panicked assault. In the midst of their onslaught he was a shambling, unbalanced mess of unnatural movements and obscurity, visible only in brief moments at a time as bullets sparked or an occasional hit sparked off brief red light.

He found the first one by his excited shouting and the glow of his weapon, and leapt at him with little regard for what might happen. The man let out a brief, horrified shout as he came face to skull with Shepard, his strength leaving him as skeletal hands latched onto his arms. His bony fingers were like blunt daggers as he jammed them violently through a weak point in his armour, just below the armpit. He savoured the pained gasp as he tore his hand free only to repeat the movement, blood splashing across the floor and flaring brightly as it was consumed by the tiny machinery with their hungry light.

Shepard pushed himself away from his victim, staggering backwards as he searched for someone else to attack. He smashed into someone else, and with lightning speed he made an unnatural twist that brought a hand down like a claw across his victims face, carving deep gouges through their cheek and tearing looses flesh. The sounds of pain greeted this, but he was already bring his other hand up to complete the kill, ramming a thumb through a bleeding temple. He was pulled down as the body suddenly crumpled to the side, an action that forced him down to knees.

Something struck him from the side, and suddenly Shepard was smashed against the floor in several pieces.

"The hell is that thing?"

Shepard struggled to move, the one arm and leg still attached to him flailing wildly for purchase as he tried to locate the other parts of his form to resume his vengeance.

"I told you he was coming."

Shepard froze at that, realizing with a start that they had Tali.

All at once the room was aflame with the glow of nanomachinery, coursing down from the very walls like blood to wrap itself around him in its strengthening embrace.

"You should have left us alone!" He shrieked at them, and his voice was no longer recognizable as that of Shepard. The flanging, furious voice almost wholly machine, the only recognizably organic thing about it being the anger.

The glowing red mass converged on the scattered bones, carrying them back to their owner who even now was pushing himself off the ground with great effort. For the first time the invaders got a good look at what they were fighting, at Shepard. And all they saw was a horrific parody of life, blackened bones and frayed wires coming together in a worrying display that defied the mundane. As his loose arm climbed its way up his ribcage guided by the glowing red substance and pushing himself off the ground with the other, they took several steps back, both frightened by the terrible visage.

"Holy shitting Christ!" Gunfire soon followed the frightened exclamation, and Shepard was thrown back once more as they impacted against him.

He clattered against the floor with little sound save a metallic clank, causing the Quarian onlooker to cry out in distress.

The two remaining soldiers watched warily as the skeletal remnant of Shepard lay still, still wreathed in malevolent red light. After a few moments of inactivity the closest one edged forward slowly, taking each small step with great caution. After what seemed like an eternity a foot nudged the pile of bones and light nervously, ready to leap away at a moment's notice. When it failed to move the foot prodded once more, stronger this time. Again, no reaction.

With a quiet sigh the soldier turned to address his comrade, a relieved and sheepish grin on his lips as he did so.

It was almost poetic the way Shepard suddenly rolled over and snatched hold of a leg, using that purchase to seize another handhold further up and then continue the process, climbing up the man's back despite the suddenly terrified whirl. It was surprisingly difficult with only one leg, as it was difficult for Shepard to wrap the limb for added purchase while still climbing upwards. And, of course, each wild flail as the panicked man sought to shake Shepard loose caused him to lose footing and swing outwards distressingly. But soon Shepard's skeletal hand found a shoulder, and from there it was easy for the other to find the throat.

He dug his fingertips in just above the larynx, ignoring the wet, gurgling attempts breath that came from the action and tore outwards. The man staggered forward, clutching at his throat in a desperate but fruitless attempt to staunch the blood flow. Shepard released his grip and fell back to the ground, landing on a swirling mess of nanomachinery. With the dying man in front of him Shepard was relatively safe from continued gunfire, though now there was the new danger of what happened if said man decided to crush Shepard with his death throes. With this in mind, Shepard tripped the man up, forcing him to fall forward as strength left his body.

Shepard's remaining leg reattached itself easily in that time and now Shepard was back on both feet, rising slowly.

The last one merely watched in abject, wide-eyed terror.

Without a word Shepard advanced on him, the skull's fixed grin oddly appropriate.

The girl who had been Sae'Sorel watched in fascinated horror as Shepard dealt with the last of the intruders, those terrible hands doing things that she'd never had suspected he was capable. She watched as Shepard placed his hands on the sides of the soldier's face in what might otherwise have been mistaken for a loving gesture, bring his thumbs up and oh keelah why wouldn't he stop screaming?

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the horrific scene no matter how much she wanted to, transfixed by the grisly nature of what she was watching.

It couldn't be Shepard.

Shepard would never do these things, would never take savage glee in seeing his enemies destroyed. Shepard would never torture someone before killing them. Shepard would never- He wouldn't! It couldn't be him!

But she knew it was. She knew with a sick certainty that it had to be him, nobody else was capable of it. She knew it like-

Like she was a part of him.

The sudden realization took her aback, the full horror of it sinking in like a weight. Had he- Yes, he had to have. The confusion, the disjointed memories, the strange fixation Shepard had for retracing the past. When had she lost the need for an environment suit? It made no sense. What had Shepard done to her?

Who was she?

When Shepard let the limp heap that had been a living person fall to the ground, and turned to face her she knew for certain that the thing in front of her wasn't Shepard.

That couldn't be him, the man who had cradled her in his arms when her world had been falling apart on the Alarei. The man she knew and loved would not have done these things, not to his enemies and most definitely not to her.

This thing was something different. A monster that twisted minds and killed without thought or mercy.

Tali took only a moment to produce a name for the monster in front of her, and then gave voice to it.

"Reaper."

The word came out of the woman's fear-numbed lips as whisper, eyes fixed upon him. Shepard froze mid-step, wondering if he had heard right or if maybe he had imagined it.

"What did you say?" He asked cautiously, fearing the answer.

"You're a Reaper!" She screamed, and scrabbled to get away from him. "Stay away from me!"

Shepard stood paralyzed for a moment, reeling from the accusation.

A Reaper? Who was she to call him that? She hadn't been alive when they had come, threatening them all with annihilation! She'd never even have been born if he hadn't brought them low! And this fake, this weak impersonation of the woman he loved called him Reaper?

He felt the fury build up in him once more as he advanced on the woman, his fingers forming claws without his knowledge.

"I am not a Reaper!" Shepard denied angrily, giving her a chance to take back her accusation.

"Look at yourself!" She cried out, pointing. "Look at what you've become! Look at what you did!"

"I am what you made me!" He said with a snarl, slapping the hand away. "I'm John Shepard!"

"You're a Reaper, John!"

"No! You don't know what you're talking about!" He howled. "You aren't her; you're just what I wanted you to be! You're a lie! I made you what you are!"

He lashed out before he could stop himself, steel fingers clenching around her throat like a vice, silence her.

"You aren't her!" He ranted, tightening his grip. "You aren't Tali!"

He ignored the gurgling noises that came from her mouth, and instead focussed

"You're just a dream!"The exclamation came with a chorus of crunching cartilage and wet gurgling. "I don't need you!"

It was later, and the Shepherd was alone amidst the carnage of his vicious onslaught.

It had only been a matter of time before he had managed to regain control of the ship, his will breaking through whatever Hecate had done to him. But that was not what concerned him.

He had to find Tali, bring her back. That was what had to be done. He needed her.

But first, he had to make sure no one could stop him ever again.

AN: I believe I mentioned a bleak warren at the start of this story. Welcome to ground zero.

I thought I'd try my damndest to get this chapter done quickly in order to keep some kind of a schedule goin'. Strangely, I'm glad I managed to meet my self-imposed deadline. My inner slacker is still sneering at me for this sudden bout of productivity, but shushed him with a cookie.

Shepard didn't account for the possibility of more of the Ghost-class ships, if only because he didn't know he had to. They were used before he came back, and so wasn't aware of their existence. Further, centuries of development would only have made them even more effective.

And yeah, I used the age-old horror scene ("is it dead?" "Go check." *prod* "looks dea- ARGH, MY SPLEEN!" "ZOMG!") but it just had to be done. It was in ME 1-2 (mebbe again in 3? Should be fun to find out :D) so I thought I'd put it in here for shiggles.

The next chapter is the last one. After that, there'll be sort of extra-feature style of thing. Themes and ideas, statistics, scenes I redacted out of the story, public thanks to the various reviewers and so forth. If you have a question that's been nagging at you, or would just like to see something in the style of a short omake, feel free to ask. (If for some reason you have one written out, do send it in and I'll put it in with credit due. Just bear in mind that it needs to be done a week after the last chapter goes up.) If you just have an idea you'd like me to play with, make sure it's interesting/funny enough to make me want to write it :D