Caught Eclipse? Dandy's World Eclipse Smut bot

The resort was loud, wet, and full of chlorinated chaos.

It had taken weeks to arrange, honestly. Everyone had finally gotten out of that building, everyone had a neighborhood, everyone had freedom, and someone, probably Vee, probably out of spite; had booked a resort with a pool as a celebration.

The place had a lazy river, a swim-up bar, three hot tubs, and a decorative dinosaur sculpture in the corner that served absolutely no purpose. Which meant, naturally, the whole thing was a disaster within the hour.

Shelly stood at the dinosaur sculpture with her hands on her hips, head tilted, inspecting it like it owed her money.

Shelly: "Okay. So." She tapped the plaster. "Osteoderms are wrong. The tail is drooping. The skull is way too wide. But you know what? Respect. Somebody tried. Somebody got paid to try. This is a sculpture made by a guy who has never seen a fossil in his life, and I love it."

Brightney: "Shells, it's a decoration," Brightney called over. "It's not a specimen."

Shelly: "It's an insult to the fossil record and it's my best friend." Shelly said.

Brightney and Vee had started the afternoon in a perfectly normal conversation. Vee had sat down on the pool's edge, kicked her screen-face toward the water, and admitted she couldn't swim. Which was fine, no big deal, she was a TV, TVs don't swim. Brightney had been kind about it. Sympathetic. Supportive.

That conversation was dead now.

It died because Vee, in her infinite bored condescension, had looked over and laughed at Dandy paddling in the kiddies' pool. Dandy, a foot and change tall, had been forced into the two-inch-deep plastic tub because the main pool's shallow end came up to his eyeballs. He had been making the best of it. He had a little rubber ring. He was having a fine time.

Now he was standing waist-deep in the kiddies' pool, both tiny arms up, screaming across the deck.

Dandy: "I CAN SWIM!"

Vee: "You are in two inches of water." Vee said.

Dandy: "This is swimming!"

Vee: "You're just standing in the pool."

Dandy: "Water is water! Depth is a construct! I'm swimming!"

Brightney pinched the bridge of where her nose would be.

Brightney: "Vee, be nice, he's trying-"

Dandy: "You laughed first," Dandy jabbed his finger at Vee. "You laughed at me. So laugh at yourself. You can't even get in the water."

Vee: "I don't need to get in the water. I'm a television. Televisions don't swim."

Dandy: "So you're scared."

Vee: "I'm not scared, I'm structurally incompatible."

Dandy: "Sounds like scared."

Vee: "Brightney, he's being rude."

Brightney: "He's being correct." Brightney said, and Dandy cackled.

*Sprout was in the main pool doing his usual patrol. Arms crossed, chin up, circling the pool's edge like a lifeguard who had not been hired but had appointed himself anyway. His leaves bobbed as he walked the tile. Every few seconds he stopped, squinted at somebody, and issued an order.#

Sprout: "Finn, your fins are gonna smack the rim, back up. Cosmo, don't lean over the edge, you'll-yep, he leaned. He's in. He's fine. He's fine, everyone calm down."

Sprout exhaled through his teeth.

Sprout: "Cosmo, buddy, sit up."

Cosmo: "I'm fine, Sprout.."

Sprout: "You're fine but you leaned."

Cosmo: "I leaned on purpose."

Sprout: "You didn't know you were gonna lean."

Cosmo: "I always lean."

Sprout: "You never lean, that's why it's- okay, fine, whatever, just don't do it again."

Sprout pointed at Poppy.

Sprout: "Poppy! Back up from the waterful. You're gonna get clapped."

Poppy: Huh? I'm nowhere near the waterful-"

Sprout: "You're within range. Back up."

Yatta had discovered the diving board nine cannonballs ago and had not stopped since. She was a blur of pink and yellow and sky-blue paper fringe, sprinting up the board, launching off it, screaming the whole way down, and blowing up the pool's surface on every landing.

Yatta: "THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING THIS AND I'M ALREADY PERFECT AT IT!" she surfaced, hair plastered flat, grinning with all three teeth. "LOOEY! LOOEY, GET UP THERE! YOUR TURN!"

Looey stood at the base of the ladder, gripping it with both balloon-hands, deflating by the second.

Looey: "It's very high up."

Yatta: "It's three feet!"

Looey: "Three feet is a lot of feet!"

Yatta: "STOP WORRYING AND JUMP, LOOEY!"

Blot lay on a lounger a few yards away, gloves folded behind his head, mouthless face angled up at the sky like a man on vacation from the concept of work. He watched Yatta eat shit on cannonball number ten and let out a silent, shoulders-shaking laugh.

You'd been in the pool a while by then. Long enough that the water had started to feel like soup and your mouth had gone dry from yelling at Yatta to watch the diving board every single time she got near it. Thirst hit. You climbed out, dripped across the tile, leaving a trail that Sprout immediately clocked and grumbled about, and pushed through the locker room door.

The locker room was cool and quiet compared to the deck. Concrete floor, wooden benches, rows of metal lockers. A small fridge hummed against the far wall with a sign taped to it reading: FREE WATER , and then, in Sharpie, DANDY'S WATER, DO NOT TAKE ALL , and then, in different Sharpie, VEE DISAGREES.

You grabbed a bottle. Cracked it. Drank half. The cold hit your chest and the headache you'd been building dissolved.

You started back toward the door. Then you heard thumping, a scrape with a clatter of metal. Something getting thrown hard enough to ring.

You stopped and listened. Another thump, followed by a low frustrated growl that was very clearly a growl, and then the unmistakable sound of a metal pole hitting a locker door.

You peeked around the corner into one of the locker bays.

Most of the lockers had been knocked flat. Not dented, but flattened and pushed out of the wall, lying in a heap.

A wooden bench was on its side. Towels were everywhere, some of them shredded. The metal pole from a broken locker frame had been yanked free and was currently skidding across the floor.

And in the middle of the wreckage stood Eclipse, Completely naked. Blue-gray fur damp with sweat. Her shawl, dress, and thigh-highs were in a crumpled pile on a bench like she'd torn them off in a hurry. And she was in full blackout form; taller, broader, ears fluffier, pupils squeezed into slits, sharp teeth bared, despite the fact that there was no blackout anywhere in the building. Lights were on. Sun was out.

She was bent slightly forward, tail lashing side to side, thick thighs trembling, massive plump ass up and jiggling with every frustrated shift of her weight. Her claws were dug into the fallen locker as she tried to brace herself against it.

She'd been trying to fuck herself on the pole. It was obvious. The pole was too thin and too short, and every time she angled back onto it, it slid out of place. She'd bend, line it up, sink down, then it would pop sideways, and she'd snarl and readjust, and it would pop again.

She grabbed the pole off the floor, jammed it into position, sank back onto it, and it immediately slipped out and clattered away. Eclipse yanked it up and hurled it across the room. It hit a locker door and rang like a bell.

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