#I'm so done with this movie for now

[pixlerelish]

[chalkrub]

challenging myself by engaging in the ancient art known as "dynamic poses", but making it harder on myself by ignoring the noble practice of "using references"

featuring belvedere and florawell

[einaudis]

ALL OF US STRANGERS (2023) dir. ANDREW HAIGH

[duhsty1]

he did in fact come back

[grxceful-ly]

peter bringing mayday with him to do spider stuff because yeah, he had things to live for before--but now he has a child and he is going to raise this child and be there for her and maybe if she’s there, strapped to his chest, he’ll be more careful. he’ll consider his life almost as precious as hers. maybe bringing mayday to work is a precaution. 

[little-pup-pip]

25 Days of Agere Moodboards! Day 11: Character I'd want as a CG!!

[justanotherwriter140]

Kung Fu Panda 4 - The Movie

The last really, really long discussion post (for now).

Major spoilers ahead!

This review is full of spoilers, so please refrain from reading through it until you've watched KFP4. I would highly suggest doing so, as I want everyone to form their own opinions without my influence. The movie has its flaws (some of which admittedly being a bit distracting), but it's a fun film that has things to offer.

Kung Fu Panda 4 is a fun movie (take that as you will) that takes its audience on an action-packed, surprisingly funny, yet relatively contained adventure on which Po doesn't really do much. It's an inconsequential, safe sequel that doesn't really hurt the franchise but adds close to nothing.

I had a good time watching the movie. It was obviously produced with its theater experience in mind and the action scenes especially reflected that priority. The humor was actually funny sometimes and I enjoyed Po and Zhen's dynamic. During the film, I was able to put most (most!) of my grievances aside and take the movie for what it is. I've discovered that the best way to watch KFP4 is with low expectations and an open mind.

I have a lot of things to say about KFP4, both complaints and compliments (though the former might be taking the forefront in this review), and I hope this review can help those of you who have seen the movie organize your thoughts. I've been having a lot of trouble with that specific aspect of things myself. Those who get it get it.

With that said, let's get into my full review of KFP4! I've been waiting for nearly 2 years to write this and I'm so excited to share every single thought.

I'm going to follow the format of my first discussion post and curate a bulleted list of my thoughts, followed by an analysis of each of these points. Keep in mind that everything I say is IMO and this is more of a rant post than anything else.

Here are my main points:

The Furious Five's role is comically minuscule in the context of the film. Their actions are inconsequential and add nothing to the plot (a confirmed last-minute add), and they have 30~ seconds of screen time. Shifu is also largely irrelevant.

Mr. Ping and Li's presence has little to no effect on the movie (though I won't complain too much because they were pretty fun to watch and this movie has bigger problems). In almost any scenario, I am adamantly against having characters present that don't add anything to the narrative; however, Mr. Ping is an exception. I love Mr. Ping. James Hong is a gem.

Zhen's screen time is not utilized well and her character is underdeveloped. She definitely wasn't annoying, but I didn't find her either compelling or funny enough to warrant the screen time she was given, especially considering it wasn't used to establish a backstory/strong motives. This makes me feel bad for the character because the movie kind of screwed her out of any substantial development.

The Chameleon, while complimented greatly by Viola Davis, is an underwhelming villain. Viola Davis is amazing in this film and I would suggest watching it for her performance if for nothing else, but the Chameleon is underwhelming considering the super cool concept behind the character.

The film feels very rushed. Apologies to those who disagree, but I think the pacing is atrocious and the final fight is anticlimactic. The movie felt like a word-vomit with no discernible intermissions that stops abruptly when the film ends.

I felt as though Po didn't change/grow as a person and the audience never had a chance to either bond with or relate to his character. His internal struggle is kept to a minimum and we don't spend a moment alone with him as an audience, which is disorienting and distracting. Watching the film felt like running into an old friend at the store who's too in a rush to have a real conversation.

The action scenes were strong with few exceptions. Creative art direction was utilized and I thought the martial arts choreography was entertaining and dynamic. I love the color palette of the film and many scenes were very impressive visually.

With my main points established, I do believe it's ranting time. Strap in, folks.

Let's start strong with the Furious Five: I'm gutted. Chagrined, despondent, crestfallen, etc.

The lack of the Furious Five negatively affects KFP4 so much, because not only does their absence hurt the atmospheric integrity of KFP as a franchise, it also forces KFP4 to bring in a slew of different characters—all while still noncommittally including the FF at the very end because I believe the marketing team required it—that clog up the cast a bit. It all goes to show how important strong, established side characters are.

The Furious Five are side characters, but the role of "side character" does not equate to being irrelevant, expendable, or exchangeable. I recognize that the Furious Five aren't super developed as characters beyond a handful of lines that allude to traits sprinkled sparingly among the members; however, I believe that the tiny bits of development we have been given have proved impactful in the past. Tigress's development in KFP2 is a prime example of how much narratively conscious changes (however small they may be) can positively affect these movies.

Because of limited runtimes, the Furious Five often operate as more of a singular unit than five individuals. Even so, I don't think discarding them is valid. They're so important to the KFP universe (to Po's universe!) and not having them with him feels so wrong. The Furious Five are fully integral to the heart of Kung Fu Panda, which is why I believe a lot of those who have seen the new movie have expressed something feeling "off" or something being missing.

I agree with this sentiment. To me, KFP4 didn't feel like a KFP movie. I don't need a Furious Five spin-off movie and I can be fully content with a KFP5 centered around Po's journey as an individual as was intended from the beginning, but he can't carry an entire movie on his back. As strong as he is in every sense of the word, he is only one character. He's the centerpiece of the franchise, but a centerpiece can only go so far without the rest of the design, so to speak.

For me, the Furious Five's absence is one of this film's biggest faults. It's huge and glaring. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, either, because the friends with whom I saw the film refused to talk about any other aspect of the movie after seeing it. Seeing them at the end was better than nothing, of course, but it was a disappointing culmination after eight years of waiting.

That all is to say I feel robbed. Despite all of this, though, I understand that there were reasons why the Furious Five weren't included in the movie. I don't believe the production team would exclude the Furious Five unless they weren't given a choice.

Shifu and Po's dynamic continues to be thoroughly delightful but their interactions are short and simplified. I would have loved to see more of them in this film, especially considering the extreme relevance of teacher-student relationships in KFP4. I (somewhat) digress, though, because the idea of Shifu having to live at the Jade Palace with only Po for an extended period of time is hilarious enough on its own. Maybe that's what the short film is about!

The comedy is odd but has some jokes that stand out. Po maintains a healthy relationship with his inner sass, which I think makes him more fun to watch and kind of eradicates the man-child verdict. Some jokes don't land, of course, but I genuinely thought KFP4 had some funny moments. Mr. Ping was consistently awesome and Po had some good lines sprinkled throughout the film.

As for Mr. Ping, he and Li Shan are the subjects of the film's B-plot as they follow Po to Juniper City out of shared concern for their son's safety. In my mind, they don't add anything to the story that couldn't have been brought about by other characters, but they had their moments of being entertaining. I enjoyed their silliness and thought they had a cute dynamic if nothing else.

Speaking of other characters, I want to discuss KFP4's deuteragonist and why I genuinely feel bad about the way her character was treated.

I want to let it be known that I'm still not on board with Po passing the Dragon Warrior torch to another character. While I agree that his arc is now calling for him to have a student, I disagree with the notion of him retiring from his DW role.

As I stated in my first discussion post:

Didn’t the initial significance and nuance of the title come from the fact that there is only one person who can be the Dragon Warrior, because the concept of the “Dragon Warrior” isn’t so much a title as it is Po himself? The universe (Oogway) must choose the Dragon Warrior because they are a singular being of legend. It is one person, and that person is Po. Wasn’t the point of the first film that the title ultimately doesn’t really matter because there is no “secret ingredient,” so to speak? The title doesn’t actually give Po anything. “It’s just you,” Po says, and that was the resolution.

When it comes to Zhen as a character, contrary to what I predicted I would think of her, I thought she was okay. While I was still a bit distracted by how out-of-place her design looks, I wasn't truly annoyed by her at any point and she and Po had some cute moments. Even so, I think their relationship could have been a bit more refined and developed.

While it's evident that Po and Zhen are meant to have a teacher-student/mentor-apprentice dynamic, I think their relationship feels half-baked. There were parallels that contradicted one another and ended up being confusing come the film's conclusion, and the nature of their relationship seems to vacillate depending on the scene. Additionally, the strength of their bond goes from zero to one hundred within thirty-ish minutes and left me with a bit of whiplash.

We're shown that Po and Zhen care about one another, but we're never shown why. They have a brief conversation during which they bond over being orphans, and Zhen says at one point, "You're actually a good guy," but that's it. This obvious lack of development is a bit disorienting because we're later led to believe that Zhen and Po care very deeply for one another when there's almost nothing to back it up.

A scene that sticks out to me when discussing this is when Zhen attack-hugs Po in a way that explicitly mirrors Tigress's hug from KFP2. This happens around the beginning of the third act, and while it had the potential to be an endearing moment, I think it fell flat.

The impact of Tigress's hug was brought on by her character's hardcore nature and reputation of being heartless, further strengthened with the knowledge that she was hugging Po (which was obviously way outside her comfort zone) as a show of companionship and fundamental understanding. Tigress hugged Po because he needed someone to recognize his strive for closure.

Zhen's hug had little to no impact because she had no reason to do it and it didn't indicate growth. She hugs Po because she's sorry for betraying him and doesn't want him to be killed by the Chameleon, but neither of these things are newly-established via this hug; we have already gathered by now that Zhen regrets betraying Po and doesn't want him to get hurt.

The hug is far from the movie's weakest point, but I think it's unnecessary given the context. I'm big on hugs in movies (an underutilized form of platonic affection, in my opinion), but it didn't fit here. I don't hate it, and I see it as an honest effort to bring emotionality to Po and Zhen's relationship, but it seems arbitrary.

Zhen and Po's relationship has a lot of potential and I'd be open to seeing more of them in the future, but I think some more thoughtful development needs to occur before I can humor it further. Even so, I can see myself featuring Zhen in some future post-KFP4 one-shots—sparingly, of course, because we have a lot of Furious Five content to compensate for.

Overall, they had a cute dynamic and some sweet moments but I'm not attached. I'm on board with Po having a student but I think their relationship needs a lot more development, something that this film unfortunately didn't give them time to either accomplish or earn.

Now, onto the Chameleon!

The concept of the Chameleon's character is admittedly super interesting. She's the deuteragonist's fastidious mother figure who feels that Zhen owes her a debt and as a result holds her to an impossible standard. That dynamic had the potential to be so interesting but I didn't think it was explored at all. There is no indication of Zhen having any internal conflict about fighting the Chameleon, no emotional complexity between them at all; it's disappointing because I think it would've added a bit of earnestness to the film.

Additionally, the idea of a shape-shifting villain is versatile. A shape-shifting villain gives those telling the story a lot of room to experiment with the protagonist and different ways in which the main character can be challenged and tested. It's yet another good idea utilized poorly. Just one idea: the Chameleon could have disguised herself as one (or several) of Po's family, friends, etc. and brought to fruition a new arc with his character (seeing as he arguably doesn't have one in this film), but she only disguises herself as Zhen very briefly in the movie.

Furthermore, the Chameleon completely relies on the powers of previous villains to pose any sort of threat to the main characters. She summons Po's former nemeses from the Spirit Realm (despite there being little logic in doing so considering Kai's literal evisceration) and takes their kung fu abilities for herself.

An excerpt from my first KFP4 discussion post that I think is relevant to the point I'm trying to make:

I don’t think it would be in the best interest of anyone if the past villains were to come back in any way that’s not a flashback (even then, I’m not sure I’d see the point). In all honesty, I thought that the whole point of the villains was that they died and stayed dead. They were defeated by Po once and for all as a testament to the idea of establishing Po's character growth and journey as a person through the bad things he’s able to overcome. It’d be highly contradictory to the messages of the other films if these villains were to suddenly come back.

While there was an honest effort made to portray the Chameleon as intimidating, I never felt as though any of the characters were endangered by either her or her army of lizard henchman. She's a visually appealing character (aside from her eyes, which I thought more resembled those of a gecko than a chameleon) and I greatly enjoyed Davis's performance, but overall I don't see the Chameleon as a notable villain.

The return of Tai Lung (had he been on his own) had the makings to be an excellent story, especially considering the importance of teacher-student dynamics in KFP4. To see him interacting with Shifu would have been incredible and could have led to further closure on Tai Lung's end (because I think that's kind of what the team was going for anyway), but it didn't happen.

It was nice to see Ian McShane reprise his role, but I wish Tai Lung's characterization had been more reminiscent of the way he was in the first film and more complimentary of his overall character arc. Tai Lung isn't a one-dimensional villain with a singular goal and motivation, and I couldn't help but feel as though the complexity of his character was simplified for the sake of KFP4's narrative.

Tai Lung's presence in KFP4 may be odd, but Shen and Kai's appearances are even more so. Kai, if I remember correctly, was fully obliterated by Po, reduced to literal particles on screen (which is kind of wild now that I think about it). Shen being in the Spirit Realm makes sense all things considered; however, Po and Li had no visible reaction to his presence, which seemed a bit unlikely considering Shen's deeds. This plot hole can likely be attributed to the fact that Shen and Kai's cameos (to my knowledge) were last-minute additions to the movie.

I have to talk about the pacing. I have to. I'm sorry, bear with me.

To me, the film's pacing is erratic and disconcerting. While I can appreciate a quick-moving narrative that doesn't dawdle on storylines that aren't interesting/important, KFP4 kind of flings itself too far in the opposite direction and ends up being frighteningly fast-paced. Once the credits began, I felt like I had been holding my breath for the entire movie.

KFP4 is confusing because while the runtime is standard for a KFP movie, it feels incredibly short. At the same time, the film's story moves at a breakneck speed and leaves little time for heart and development. These things culminate into a barreling boulder of a movie that simply doesn't have time to let its characters, story, or audience take a breath.

A fast pace is not inherently negative, but I don't think it worked in the favor of KFP4. The KFP franchise has always been very emotionally grounded (and just very grounded in general), so to see a film in which emotion/heart takes an aggressive backseat in comparison to action and comedy is jarring. While I think it's unreasonable for fans to expect the same emotional integrity as the original films to be present in the current and upcoming ones, I still think there's room for Po to grow and I felt as though the notion of him developing further was brushed aside in this film.

As for Po's growth, I felt it was nearly nonexistent. The previous trilogy wrapped up his character's journey beautifully and I know that KFP4 was bound to struggle with this particular aspect of making another KFP film; however, just because the strongest pillars of Po's character are established doesn't serve as a valid excuse to reverse his development and repeat what he learned in KFP3.

In KFP3, Po learned firsthand that he is capable of spreading wisdom and teaching kung fu. He also learns that he is constantly growing and that change is inevitable; there is always something more to learn.

"If you only do what you can do, you will never be more than you are now."

"I don't want to be anything more, I like who I am!"

In KFP4, Po pushes against this narrative despite fully accepting it in KFP3, actively reversing crucial parts of his character development achieved in the latter. KFP3 was non-ambiguously about learning to cope with change and responsibility, and I can't help but feel like KFP4 is simply copying this message while not adding anything to it.

Additionally, I felt that KFP4's Po generally felt less personal than he has in the past. In every KFP movie up to the franchise's most recent addition, I felt very connected to Po as an audience member. I felt like I was truly seeing the world of KFP through his eyes. I consider this to be one of the franchise's most impressive feats; it's incredibly difficult to build a universe around a character without making the audience feel limited to one perspective and one part of the world.

With KFP4, I felt both limited and disconnected. The world didn't feel as vast and all-encompassing as it has in the past and Po didn't seem fully like himself. This could be me nitpicking (as I'm prone to do), but I can't recall a single moment in the movie in which Po was alone on screen. Scenes like these are crucial for me because I see them as a meet-cute between the character and the audience, a moment for us to cross the bridge into their world in a way that's silent and intuitive. These little bonding moments are absolutely integral to feeling connected to a character.

Po's dream sequence in the first KFP movie is one of the best examples of this. It presents his aspirations, alludes to his way of life up to the point of the movie, and showcases his personality. During Po's dream sequence, the audience is quite literally inside Po's mind; we're there with him, seeing what he sees, subsequently feeling what he feels. Po is a dreamer at heart and makes the audience feel like dreamers, too.

In KFP4, I felt like I little to no point of reference when it comes to how Po was feeling. I didn't feel immersed in him and his world.

I know I've been very "doom and gloom" throughout this post, which is an exhausting mindset for everyone involved. I want to end my critique with something positive because I think some praise is deserved. Let's just say the movie could have been a lot worse, the details of which I'm sure you're all well aware.

The color palette of the movie is beautiful and somewhat reminiscent of the first film. While the animation style of KFP4 is far more simplistic than its predecessors, I was very impressed with its use of shadow and light. Po's many faces were also hysterical, props to those who helped make him as expressive as he is.

Additionally, the movie's action sequences were clearly thought out and discussed in great detail. The experimentation with camera angles was really fun to watch and I enjoyed the majority of the film's fight scenes. They were fun, bouncy, and entertaining, and quite likely reinstated audiences's love of watching a cuddly panda kick butt.

Congratulations, you've reached the end! Thank you so much to all of you who took the time to read this unnecessarily long and detailed review. As long as I help someone translate their conflicted feelings into coherent thoughts, I'll call it a win.

I want to reiterate that I don't hate Kung Fu Panda 4 and I had fun while watching the film. It has its flaws and there are a lot of aspects that I dislike, but the effort of the crew is obvious and I greatly admire and respect the hard work put into the film by those who worked on it. This does not at all excuse my issues with the movie, but it's worth saying.

As for the future of the series, I only hope that the next installment is more considerate of the franchise's origins and why Po's story is being told in the first place. I fully believe that another sequel could be good given a strong, passionate crew with a great understanding of the characters and world (and I wouldn't be averse to some previous directors returning, just to put it out there).

Thanks again to those who took the time to read this crazy excuse for a movie review. Feel free to either disagree with me or add things in the replies/reblogs, I'm always looking for more thoughts to think.

Until next time!

[croakings]

i apologize for mithrunposting incessantly but honestly if any of you expected better of me you shouldn't have

anyway i get it and some of the failguy jokes are funny. i can tell that nothing i've run into is even malicious. but also it would be really cool and awesome if there were simply less posts calling a disabled person a failure or baby or a dog or whatever for needing accommodation or extra help, especially when like. hey did you know the source material very on purpose did not do anything remotely like that. critical thinking question: could there be some reasons these phrases are not great, potentially

[every-sanji]

[aethersea]

devastating to go into the tag for an obscure vampire movie I've been quietly obsessed with for years to find mostly gifsets of minor characters (played by big-name actors) and review blogs saying they didn't like it :(

@ everyone who made a post saying "I liked it :)" I am blowing you a kiss. everyone who made a lovely gifset or photoset of the cinematography I am tipping my hat. that one poster that said "bro did y'all just miss the Entire Message about class and race or???" I am shaking your hand with enthusiasm there was SUCH a message about class and race

anyway everybody should watch Night Teeth and revel in glitzy flashy modern vampires in LA with me

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

no ok but in part 1 when paul first has his vision of the holy war and quietly says "someone please help me" ---my heart is BROKEN . This is a kid who is terrified of what he might become and then Becomes It. And was doomed to always become it. this is why i'm not fully on board with the "paul is 100% a villain" discourse -- because he never wanted to be. still haven't read dune messiah i just Know Stuff but sure he BECOMES a coked up religious figurehead dictator responsible for billions(?) of deaths, but I will never forget that he absolutely did not start out that way. Paul is a tragedy. And the child he was deserved so much more than what he was made to be later. Whatever crazy bullshit he pulls next, a part of me will always be sympathetic to some degree. this is the horror story he's the killer and the final girl all at once. Never forget the kid who, when able to choose whatever name he liked for himself, named himself after a mouse.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 15

We are set to arrive on Fendaar in two cycles. As we are currently stuck on the SIIR Noxos, I have concluded that the passages of time that I am free of duties would be best spent continuing to observe the human. The human, on the other hand, seemed to have different plans in that matter, as it took me an unusually long amount of time to locate her.

As I eventually found her, she seemed to be working on one of the control panels in the main control room, so I may excuse her absence with duties she had to attend to. As she saw me, although, she seemed rather…excited (this is obviously mere speculation, as the study of the Terran so far has provided far too little evidence to prove such theories)?

As she rolled out from under the control board and sighted me, her face once again split into a wide opening revealing her horrifying amount of teeth.

"Hey! Dude!", she said, raising to her full height and stepping towards me, still baring her teeth, although I did not recoil, as I did not want to seem impolite. She raised her arms, each pointing into a different direction, away from their connection to the human's body.

"Human Quinn. How are you?"

"Me? I‘m fine, the whole 'wandering around in space' thing just made me throw up, I honestly don‘t know why they insisted on keeping me there for two whole days."

The ends of her fingers, studded with claw-like (rather short and rounded instead of sharp, perhaps they were not meant to function as claws at all, or perhaps the beings on Terra were far different from what I knew, and therefore a shape like this was far more useful to hunt) protuberances, scraped over the back of the connection between her head and her upper body. If I interpreted her facial expression correctly, she seemed to be thinking.

"Maybe I got a light concussion too, I’m not entirely sure. But it's improbable, because I’m fine now."

I decided to focus on one piece of information at a time. "Well, this "throwing up" can certainly not be a healthy nor normal process, otherwise, it would not seem so violently painful and involuntary, would it?"

"Well it‘s not…unnatural, it‘s just something that can happen. And about health, it‘s not unhealthy, it usually helps us to get rid of stuff that is bad for our bodies!", she eludicated, moving one of her arms in a rather random manner.

"The scientists have concluded that this fluid is highly acidic. If this 'stuff' is so harmful to you, wouldn‘t it just dissolve in this fluid before being able to cause any further harm?"

Quinn seemed to think about that. 

"Well, just because it gets dissolved, doesn‘t mean it‘s gone, you know? It's still in our bodies, and we have to get rid of it somehow. And if it needs to be fast, we throw up. Honestly, I‘d definitely explain this further to you, but Biology‘s never really been my strongest subject, ya know what I mean?"

I did not, in fact, know what she meant, but I decided against questioning her further.

After a pause the Terran spoke up again: "So, this planet we're landing on..." "Fendaar.", I clarified. "Right. So, this planet that we‘re going to, it‘s a desert, right?" "That is correct." "So, is it a sand, an ice or, I guess you could also count rock desert? 'Cuz on my planet, we‘ve got all of those types."

"Fendaar‘s ecosystem is mostly made up out of sandlike landscapes with rather scarce vegetation and biodiversity. Most of the planets in system 36-54 have rather extreme temperature ranges, and Fendaar is no exception.", I eludicated.

"Alright, cool.", she spoke, rolling back under the underside of the control panel she had been working on previously. She seemed to be sitting, or rather lying, on a piece of metal with four small wheels attached to it, allowing her to move it around.

"Your planet.", I initiated. 

"Yeah?", she responded, while continuing her work on the wiring.

"Am I assuming correctly that your planet has a far bigger biodiversity?"

"Oh, yeah.", there was a small spring in her voice, as if she had let out air in the middle of speaking. "Big biodiversity. We‘ve got deserts and rainforests, coral reefs and permafrost - although perhaps not for that long anymore - mountain ranges and all that stuff."

"Interesting.", I supplied, for lack of a better response. If Terra had such differences in temperature and landscapes, it was a logical conclusion that the humans had evolved to survive under such circumstances.

"Yeah."

It was unusually quiet for some time. That was, until Quinn rolled out from the underside of the control panels.

"Alright, I‘m done." She took a deep breath before opening her mouth once again. Then, all of a sudden, the muscles of her face started contracting as if she was plagued by an invisible pain. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let out horrifying noise, holding an arm angled in front of her nose and mouth. The noise itself was not particularly loud or long, but I recoiled either way, as a measure of safety. I could not be certain if this gesture was meant to harm me, after all.

Quinn‘s arm sank down again as her other hand rubbed at her nose. She huffed, a sound far less threatening than the one she had produced a moment ago. One of the hair patches above her visual organs raised itself, prompting the question to arise if human hair was controlled by muscles or if it had a mind of its own, although this was a question that could be further investigated later. One of the corners of her mouth raised, revealing the seemingly sharpest teeth in her mouth.

"I guess dust is an inter-galactic thing, huh?"

I did not respond. Her face muscles contracted, causing the skin above her visual organs to crease.

"Hey, you okay? You‘re looking a little spooked over there."

"Human, I do not wish to cause you discomfort, but, if I may ask, what was the purpose of the noise you just uttered?"

She did not respond for a moment, blinking with both of her eyes as she stared at me. It was quite unsettling, considering her previous explanation, that most humans preferred not being stared at. 

"I…sneezed?" The creases in the skin above her eyes deepened.

My front pliers uttered another rattling sound. "What is this 'sneezing'? What purpose does it serve?" I admit, I was quite curious. Terrans seemed much more complex than I had previously assumed.

She paused, seemingly to think of an answer. "Well, it‘s like…if something is bothering us at or in out nose, like dust, for example, it‘s kind of the natural response to that. To keep things out of our bodies that don‘t belong there."

"Human bodies seem to require a lot of defense mechanisms.", I commented.

She raised and lowered the connection of her arms to her upper body, baring her teeth once again while raising herself to her full height, using one of her arms as support.

"Y’know, it’s surprisingly hard to explain something you’re so used to to someone who’s never heard of it. I guess I still have to work on the whole 'awareness that I‘m around aliens' thing. S‘ kind of surreal."

She patted off her clothing, as if to remove non-existent filth once again. I had noticed the past few cycles that most of her clothing seemed to consist of several, usually differently-coloured, pieces of fabric. 

Her clothes usually covered her body from the connection between her arms and torso to the connection between her legs and, presumably, her feet. Her feet were usually also covered, although I could not determine the purpose it was supposed to serve in the environment we are currently in, although the theory that the conditions on Earth are vastly different compared to the ones on the SIIR Noxos is gaining more probability, based on the Terran's narrations.

The human seemed to evaluate a question she wanted to ask (this is, of course, a mere speculation based on previous observations: her face muscles were contracted to form a crease over her visual organs, which could so far most likely be interpreted as confusion, thoughtfulness or discomfort; her head was both slightly raised and tilted to one side at the same time, a gesture that was most likely supposed to convey an ongoing thought process).

Although, before she could utter a noise, V-7 informed us of a request from the Vitrichl to gather for a matter of importance.

The purpose of his summoning was to divide the crew into several smaller groups that were to be assigned with different tasks to fulfill once we sucessfully landed on Fendaar.

I was grouped with the Terran, which was unsurprising, as well as Tkzt, a member of the species that is widely known across the galaxies as Ctzas (it is to note that the Ctzas have not evolved any form of written language and communicate exclusively through clicking and chittering sounds. The written forms of, for example, names of this species, are written by other species to produce approximately the same sound as the Ctzas make when recited verbally).

Tkzt, as a member of the unit controlling supply chains and keeping a list of the stock of the SIIR Noxos, would make a helpful addition in our task of seeking out the nearest settlement in order to stock up on supplies.

After all matters of importance were settled, the crew dissipated, continuing their respective tasks. The Terran was ordered to stay and to assist the Vitrichl in another matter, which is the reason I did not cross paths with the human again for the rest of this cycle.

Despite this, I am positive that accompanying the human on an foreign planet will give me a further insight into the species' mannerisms and interaction manners with foreign species, which will prove to be helpful further on in studying the human.

[razzle-zazzle]

dude, i think your mech is haunted

8077 Words; Cleaved AU (Movie)

TW for mild violence, mild body horror (ghost has holes), vomiting

AO3 ver

Generally, Cole never really gave much thought to whether he believed in ghosts.

He’d never seen any himself, sure, but he also lived in a world with Serpentine and Garmadon and Master Builders. It wasn’t that he particularly cared one way or the other—he just never really gave the idea of ghosts much thought outside of when he was directly asked.

Recently, though? He was starting to think his home might be haunted.

It started with the record player. Cole’s family had a long love of music; it was all musicians as far back as anyone in their family could trace. Cole’s dad was no exception—between the records and CDs of their favorite bands and albums was every song the Royal Blacksmiths had ever made. Cole would never be able to get the classics out of his head; they were written so deeply into his bones from a childhood spent listening to those at-the-time-new albums with his mom. Music was just a part of Cole’s life, and he liked it that way—the Earth Mech wouldn’t have had a DJ setup for the control panel if he didn’t.

But back to the maybe-haunting. Cole had gotten home after a long day of school and then hanging with the rest of the Secret Ninja Force. Part of it was training—Master Wu was determined that they would all learn how to be “proper ninja,” even though their mechs were perfectly suited for handling Garmadon attacks—but most of it was just hanging out with his friends. The ache in Cole’s body from the physical conditioning was vaguely satisfying, thanks to the fact that he’d been hanging out with his friends during.

Before he’d even put his bag away Cole moved to get the record player going. He grabbed an album, pulled out a record, and flipped it onto the player and set the needle with practiced ease. Within moments, The Fold’s music began to fill the apartment as Cole finally slung his backpack onto the couch.

There was a note on the counter from his dad—a late night with his bandmates, and a reminder to take out the trash squished between the reminders to call him in case of emergency and that he loved his son. Cole set the note back down and turned to open the fridge for those leftover wings mentioned in his dad’s note.

“Jump up kick back whip around and spin,” Cole sang along with the song, “and then you—”

A sudden clatter from the doorway had Cole spinning around to stare at the entryway. Countless records spilled across the floor and shoes from where they had been knocked off the shelf by… actually, Cole wasn’t sure. The shelf looked fine.

“Shit.” Cole groused as he moved to clean up the mess. The song kept cheerfully playing on as he worked—he wasn’t gonna just put them back on there willy-nilly. There was a system to the selection of music by the door, just like there was a system to the main shelf of records, CDs, and talent show trophies in the living room.

That was pretty much the whole incident—barely even anything to really worry about. Besides, Cole had homework to ignore and trash to take out.

+=+=+=+=+

“Fly Me to the Moon!” Cole jolted in his seat at the sudden clatter from the kitchen, turning around to look over the back of the couch. His father, one arm still holding the cabinet door, looked down at the floor in a mixture of frustration and astonishment. Though Cole couldn’t see through the counter, he could guess as to what had happened—

“That was the good china!” Lou lamented. Yep, just what Cole figured.

“How’d it even fall out anyway?” Cole asked, as his father let go of the cabinet and went for the broom. He glanced up at the cabinet, surprised to see the whole stack of plates that only ever came out when the Royal Blacksmiths had a successful show completely gone. Weird, how did a whole stack of plates randomly fall out of a cabinet?

“Caesar must have put them away wrong Tuesday night.” Lou guessed, already sweeping up the shards. Cole nodded, and turned back to his laptop. Well, maybe laptop was a generous word—it was a computer provided by the school, in case a Garmadon attack forced them to switch to online lessons. It barely worked like a normal computer, and was little more than a glorified e-reader for teachers to put homework on.

Lou sighed. “I suppose I can’t be too mad,” he added quietly. “Lilly always did hate these plates.” He chuckled, before sighing. “Mom loved them, though.”

Despite the agonizing english homework filling the screen in front of him, Cole snorted.

+=+=+=+=+

“I swear, I have no idea how it fell over!” Cole kneeled down, pressing a towel into the section of the carpet that looked the most soaked. The shattered pieces of the former vase still littered the floor, the sad dying irises wet and limp where they laid in the middle of the puddle.

“I’m not going to be mad at you.” Lou promised, carefully picking up the pieces of vase big enough to grab and putting them in the dustpan.

“I didn’t do it!” Cole protested. He hadn’t. He really hadn’t. The vase had just flung itself off the coffee table—somehow. Cole wasn’t entirely sure how, but—he watched it fall! He didn’t touch it!

His father took a moment to look at him, eyebrow raised in quiet disbelief.

Cole groaned. “It just fell.” He repeated, knowing there was no convincing his father. So what if the irises were tacky? Cole wasn’t going to break a vase just because the flowers inside were ugly. They had been a gift from one of his father’s bandmates, too—Brendan kept a garden, and often gave out flowers as they grew in. And zucchini. So much zucchini.

But still. Cole didn’t knock over the vase, on purpose or otherwise.

Lou sighed. “It was in the middle of the table.” He pointed out.

“And I didn’t touch it!” Cole responded. He pressed the towel down for emphasis—all it did was make his hands damp. His father opened his mouth to say something—

The record, which had been playing an old rock song from before Cole was even born, made a sound that could only be described as wailing. Cole and Lou flinched at the sound, Lou moving to stand up—

Just as quickly as it started, it was over. Silence filled the apartment—true silence, without any music playing in the background.

Cole looked at his father, who had walked over to the record player to inspect it. “Do you think I did that, too?” He asked. Part of him was worried the record player was broken—but most of him was just plain annoyed.

“Cole.” Lou’s tone of voice was sharp. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and reset the needle, music filling the room once more.

Cole made a face. “It’s a valid question.” He groused.

+=+=+=+=+

Ghosts were very much not on Cole’s mind a week later. Despite several things falling over for seemingly no reason, or the record player skipping in the middle of songs, the idea of ghosts hadn’t really entered Cole’s mind. Not when he had Garmadon attacks—or, even worse, school—to worry about.

The history project due tomorrow taunted him through the screen. Were it not for the music blasting from his boombox, Cole would have pulled his hair out by now. Why did citing sources have to be so annoying? Why did finding sources have to be even worse?

Cole glanced at his phone, then back at his still unfinished project. He’d been picking away at it for what felt like forever, now—surely he deserved a break. With that thought in mind, Cole grabbed his phone and pulled up the group chat.

wateryoudoing: did any of you guys finish your essays yet greenmachine: yes! wateryoudoing: besides lloyd greenmachine: :( rocknroll: fsm i wish 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: i havent even started lol greenmachine: guys its not that hard greenmachine: its literally only 600 words wateryoudoing: easy for you to say rocknroll: not evryone can remember this stuff liek you greenmachine: the serpentine war is NOT boring guys wateryoudoing: its not even that the war is boring its just that this assignemtn SUCKS greenmachine: its not that bad rocknroll: yeah it is 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: yeah it is wateryoudoing: see lloyd wateryoudoing: everyone agrees greenmachine: is this bc mr marsh wouldnt let you write about irondragon

Cole closed out of the groupchat. As much fun as it might be to watch Nya and Lloyd argue over whether their history teacher was any good at his job or not, he was hoping for a more fun distraction. He navigated to that one sudoku app he got a while ago, and started up a game. He started a second game five minutes later—and then another when he finished that one, too. It was starting to get boring, but Cole couldn’t put his phone down.

He glanced at his unfinished essay. Back at his phone. The time was 8:43. He could keep taking this break for just a little longer, right?

Cole looked back at the sudoku, entering the last numbers needed to complete the game. The “continue” button appeared, but he didn’t press it.

The assignment was haunting him. Masterdammit. He didn’t want to work on it anymore—but he couldn’t just leave it unfinished. It’d show in his grades and then his dad would get on his ass about it when he already had enough to worry about with the hospital bills—

Cole flinched as harsh static grated against his ears. He fumbled for his boombox, wincing at the noise it was making. First the record, now this? The noise took on that wailing quality, harsh and discordant against Cole’s ears. Despite turning the volume all the way down, the noise continued, scratching against Cole’s brain like nails on a chalkboard.

And then it stopped.

Cole exhaled the breath he hadn’t realize he was holding. Slowly, he turned the volume knob back—

A few seconds of static, then nothing. Cole groaned.

His phone buzzed. Cole grabbed it, opening the group chat to see what was happening now.

FI-YEAHHHH: you guys are not gonna believe what i found 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: 👀 wateryoudoing: your “missing” science hw? FI-YEAHHHH: no even better than that crimedoer: okay i’ll bite crimedoer: WHO CHANGED MY NAME FI-YEAHHHH: so i’m at doomsday comix, as you do greenmachine: you went to doomsday w/o me 🥺 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: 😲😲😲 crimedoer: KAI WAS IT YOU FI-YEAHHHH: uhhhhhh FI-YEAHHHH: okay lloyd i was looking for a bday gift for you FI-YEAHHHH: didnt wanna spoil the surprise greenmachine: my birthday’s not for another 4 months??? crimedoer has changed their name to jetstream wateryoudoing: we’re getting off topic guys wateryoudoing: kai what did you find FI-YEAHHHH: jay change your name back FI-YEAHHHH: okay so i’m looking at the figurines right jetstream: no FI-YEAHHHH: and LOOK at what i found!!!

Kai sent a picture to the groupchat of a Lady IronDragon figurine in his hand, slightly scuffed—and missing a weapon judging by the shape of her hand. The price tag was visible: $10.99.

Cole smiled, texted a quick “cool” and put his phone back down. It continued to buzz as the conversation continued, but Cole’s focus was already back on the boombox. It didn’t look broken. He flicked it back on—

Music blared out like it had never stopped working in the first place. Cole leaned back in his chair with a groan. “First Master…” Between this, the plates, the vase, and the record player—there was something weird going on. Cole just wished it would blow over. Of course, knowing his luck, it probably wouldn’t.

And he still needed to finish that essay!

+=+=+=+=+

“Hey, dude, you doing okay?” Kai’s voice cut through the usual cacophony of the halls before classes. He was leaning against Cole’s locker, and moved over to allow Cole access. “You look kinda…” He waved his hands in a vague approximation of whatever was prompting his concern.

Cole shrugged. “It’s been a weird week.” The noise of the other students was already giving him a headache. He hadn’t brought his boombox today, for fear of it making that awful noise in his locker, but he did still have his headphones—

Uh. Wait—where were his headphones?

“Cole?” Kai leaned over.

“I can’t find my headphones.” Cole said, his voice much more calm than he felt. He sat down to dig into his backpack proper, pulling everything out one by one. He couldn’t find his headphones—where were they? He never left home without them—

“Hello fellow teens!” Zane greeted, wheeling over. He turned to Cole. “Did you ever finish your history essay?”

“Cole can’t find his headphones.” Kai explained to Zane—and Nya and Jay, who had just arrived.

“Oof,” Jay said, brushing his fingers over the fabric of his scarf. “That sucks.”

Cole wasn’t listening. His headphones—he needed his headphones! Without his music—

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his rising panic. “Hey,” Lloyd said, kneeling beside Cole. “I know it’s not the same, but…” he reached into his own backpack, pulling out a pair of earbuds, “will these work for you?”

Something in Cole softened at the gesture, even as the rest of him recoiled at the notion of using earbuds. He forced the protests down with a swallow, and took a breath. “It’ll do.” He conceded, taking the earbuds. It was way different from his boombox and headphones, but he’d rather have the earbuds than no music at all.

He still couldn’t believe he’d forgotten them. He never left home without his headphones!

“Where’s your boombox, anyway?” Nya asked, as Cole began to pick all his stuff back up and Kai and Jay and Zane all began to help him.

“It’s been acting weird lately.” Cole responded, standing up and shoving his bag into his locker. “Making weird noises.”

“Ohhh, like the record player?” Jay asked, “You said it made a weird noise on Monday.”

Cole nodded, plugging the earbuds into his walkman. He put one bud in one ear and left the other out so he could follow the conversation, and started towards his first class. The halls were emptying out, now, as the start of classes approached.

Kai, Jay, and Nya didn’t share the same first period, and peeled off to get to their respective classes. Cole leaned against Zane as they walked, and turned to Lloyd. “Thanks.” He murmured, before popping in the other earbud.

Lloyd nodded. “Of course.”

+=+=+=+=+

Garmadon attacks were all the same. Get to the hideout, get in their mechs, get out there and kick ass. Sure, there was definitely stress in how the attacks constantly interrupted their lives and put the whole city in danger, but it was a stress they were all used to. Before long, Garmadon was retreating from the crater Lloyd had made, and they were all pulling back into the hideout to relax and decompress.

Cole hopped out of the Earth Mech and beelined straight for the jukebox. His headphones may not have turned up, but at least their secret base was never lacking in terms of music players. He looked through the music they had on hand before selecting an old Three Days Grace song. The music blared, and Cole sat down heavily, pressing his cheek into the cool plastic of the jukebox as the vibrations washed over him.

“—across all of our battles, Lloyd has done significantly more damage to the city than Garmadon!” Zane was saying when Cole tuned back into the conversation.

Lloyd winced. “I—” He grunted, then went over the couch and sat on it. “I should work on that.” He finished, a bit lamely.

“Yeah, but he looked so cool doing it!” Kai put in, also taking a seat on the couch. “And besides, the city doesn’t give a damn, and they bully us all the time, so why should we care if things get a little broken?”

“That’s not very ninja of you.” Cole pointed out, still leaning against the jukebox. From where he was sitting, he watched as Jay started up a game on the TV, handing a controller to Kai. Kai took the controller, and grabbed one to offer to Lloyd, who shrugged and waved it off. Zane wheeled over to Cole and sat down next to him

“Oh, who cares!” Nya declared, hopping up over the back of the couch and landing next to Jay. “Lloyd’ll work on his ‘use every missile in his arsenal on Garmadon’ habit and we’ll continue protecting the city. Not that hard!”

Cole smiled. Yeah, Garmadon attacks sucked, but at least the aftermath was always great. Being here, hanging out in this sickass secret hideout with the rest of the Secret Ninja Force—

The jukebox shrieked. Cole stumbled back as that same awful static hissed out of it, grating against his ears. Across the room, Jay yelled, falling off the couch and taking Kai down with him.

“Dude!” Lloyd’s hands were over his ears as he winced at the noise. Zane’s head was spinning—

“Ha!” Nya stood triumphantly, unplugged power cord for the jukebox in hand—

Except the noise continued, screeching despite the loss of power. Cole winced, covering his ears with his hands and scooting further away from the jukebox. Nya similarly backed away—

And then

the noise

stopped.

Everyone stared at the jukebox. Cole lowered his hands, and groaned. “Not again.” He muttered, glaring at the poor jukebox. Now he was three for three on weird noises.

“Uh, that’s not the noise your record player and boombox made, is it?” Jay asked as he and Kai untangled themselves.

Cole grimaced, which was answer enough.

“I think you might be cursed, bro.” Kai suggested, coming over to put his hand on Cole’s other shoulder.

“Gasp!” Zane gasped. “Cole’s headphones disappeared too! I hope he’s not cursed to never enjoy music again.”

Cole stared at Zane in horror. “Never say that again, please.” Nope. No way. If Cole was cursed in some way that prevented him from listening to music, he was going to walk into the sea and never come back. He couldn’t give up music. Not for anything.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Lloyd said, in a tone of voice that suggested nothing was fine. “Maybe Garmadon’s planning something with radios and… stuff.” He didn’t quite look like he believed what he was saying, but he pushed on anyway. “And then when he attacks again we’ll find out what he was planning and put a stop to it.”

Cole snorted. “And then we beat him up?”

Nya nodded sagely. “And then we beat him up.” She agreed. “And alllll of your music problems will end.” She sounded so sure of herself, like always—Cole couldn’t help the grin starting to split his face. He stood, ambling over and plugging the jukebox in. Thankfully, when he started the song, no weird noises came out. Cole still moved over to one of the bean bags near the couch just in case.

With that, Jay and Kai started the game anew, and everyone began to properly kill time until Master Wu showed up.

+=+=+=+=+

Garmadon didn’t often attack every single day, but back-to-back attacks were nothing new, either. Weekends tended to be particularly nasty, as this one was proving to be. Still, the Secret Ninja Force were up to the task, rolling out in their mechs to defend the city as they always did.

“Guys, I think my house is haunted.” Cole commented, directing the Earth Mech around a sharp corner. The intercoms crackled slightly as the others began to reply—

Ethereal green spun into the corner of his vision, leaking face and half-there body lighting up the cockpit. “It’s not your house, dude.”

The Earth Mech slammed straight into a wall. Cole screamed, and in the same instant the—well, it really couldn’t be anything other than a ghost—disappeared, the green glow gone as soon as it had appeared. The world spun and Cole groaned, struggling to regain his bearings.  The Earth Mech was halfway into the wall.

“Please tell me you guys heard that.” Cole sighed, spinning the records to back the Earth Mech out of the newly-created hole in the wall.

“If you mean you screaming and crashing into a wall, then yes!” Zane chirped. Cole buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Let’s try and focus on the battle at hand, guys.” Lloyd commented. “We can talk about the ghost thing later.”

“Yeah,” Cole agreed, getting back into the groove. “Let’s do that.”

+=+=+=+=+

Despite Lloyd’s comment, they all had things they needed to go do at home post-battle, so everyone split up after a few minutes spent cooling down. Cole made his way to the bus stop, pulling out his fare. Twenty minutes later, he was getting off, and started making his way through his neighborhood.

Cole’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out, and opened the group chat.

IHATEMYDAD: doomsday wont let me in :( wateryoudoing: omw bro crimedoer: lloyd your name :( 💒😲🐦: todays atk was p rough crimedoer: MOTHRFUCKER crimedoer has changed their name to bluedabbade bluedabbade: ENOUGH FI-YEAHHHH: bro whats that even supposed to mean bluedabbade: you are not being serious rn rocknroll: the song right? bluedabbade: see! cole gets it!

Cole snorted, reaching for his keys. The door opened easily, and he switched his shoes before reaching to start the record player. The moment the music started, he walked off, not wanting whatever was going on with him to break the record player (again). Sitting down on the couch, he opened the group chat up again.

FI-YEAHHHH: but your name is literally a crime 💒😲🐦: very true 💒😲🐦: jay walking is a very srs crime bluedabbade: IM NOT A CRIIMNLA FI-YEAHHHH: criimnla IHATEMYDAD: criimnla wateryoudoing: criimnla bluedabbade: JSFLDGKFHGJH bluedabbade has changed FI-YEAHHHH’s name to fi-YUCK fi-YUCK: jay wtf bluedabbade: how does it feel bluedabbade: sucks doesn’t it fi-YUCK: okay fine ig i deserve it IHATEMYDAD: nya got us banned from doomsday for a week btw wateryoudoing: it’s not my fault the manager was a jerk! rocknroll: lol IHATEMYDAD: oh yeah cole you doing alright? IHATEMYDAD: what were we supposed to hear anyway rocknroll: istfsm SOMETHING appeared in my mech rocknroll: and said it wasnt just home that was haunted bluedabbade: what, like a ghost? rocknroll: i hope not rocknroll: life is hectic enough as is fi-YUCK: amen 🙏

+=+=+=+=+

Green light crept in under the door. Cole stared at it, but it stayed firmly green instead of the hallway light’s usual yellow. Not that the hallway light should even be on, at this hour, when Cole’s dad was asleep in his room and Cole was supposed to also be asleep.

Oh, First Master, Cole did not want to get up to deal with this. Not at ass o’clock in the morning. But he was a ninja, so he sat up and rolled off the bed as quietly as possible. If someone was stupid enough to try and break in here then they were in for a surprise. But really, why green? It wasn’t even the vibrant green of Lloyd’s mech and gi—it was paler, almost sickly, maybe even lifeless.

Cole sleepily made his way to the door and rested his hand on the handle, ready to burst it open and take whoever was shining ominous green light in the hallway by surprise—

And then it was gone. Like it had never been there in the first place. Because maybe it never had.

Cole blinked. He sighed. Tiredness clung to his shoulders like a coat, and his bed was calling for him. Still, he turned the knob and opened the door just to check—

Nothing.

“Ughhhh.” Cole groaned, turning back to his bed. He was probably just seeing things. Probably.

Green light filtered into his room through the open door. Cole whirled around towards the source.

Standing at the other end of the hallway was… a ghost? It was a pale, unearthly green, slightly transparent. Holes opened and closed throughout it, and its face was too indistinct for Cole to fully make out. Okay, definitely a ghost.

Fuck. Cole practically dove towards his nightstand, snatching his phone and fumbling to unlock it. Squinting against the glaring light of the screen, he opened the camera app, turned back to the hallway, and aimed at the ghost.

The flash lit up the entire hallway. Cole cursed, hurrying to turn it off, and aimed the camera again. He opened the group chat and sent the picture.

rocknroll: i swear to teh fuckign first master criminal: is that a fucking ghost criminal: WHO THE FUCK FI-YEAHHHH: okay so coles ass is haunted criminal: KAI WAS IT YOU wateryoudoing: guys why are you up at 2 am FI-YEAHHHH: why are YOU up at two AM 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠: shockedface.jpeg

The ghost just… stood there, staring at the wall. Cole finally found the brightness settings and lowered them, keeping the ghost in his peripheral vision as he did. “What do you want from me?” He asked, not expecting a response.

The ghost turned to face him. It stared, its mouth opening. “I shou—e—ask—g—you—that.” Its voice had a crackly, echoey quality, like a skipping record or damaged cassette.

Cole bristled. “Dude,” he hissed, not really caring that he was trying to argue with a ghost, “you’re haunting me.”

The ghost crossed its arms, but the motion accidentally bumped the wall. Cole snapped another photo at exactly the same moment as the pictures on the wall fell down.

“Uh—” The ghost drifted back, “Oops.”

Cole buried his face in his hands. The group chat was still open on his phone.

rocknroll: IT WONT LEAVE ME ALONE

He sent the picture, then shoved his phone into his pocket and moved to pick up the photos. None of the frames seemed to be damaged, at least, but Cole still grumbled as he held up a photo of the Royal Blacksmiths holding the Blade Cup.

“Oh, I—rememb—that.” The ghost commented, bright green glow lighting up the photo as it leaned over Cole. Cole glared at the ghost. There was something familiar about its face, but its features kept flickering in and out, missing-unmissing in a way that kept Cole from recognizing why it looked familiar.

“It’s way too late for this.” Cole grumbled, once the wall was fixed. He supposed he could at least thank the ghost for providing light to see by—but he was too tired for that. So he settled for walking back towards his room, glaring at nothing while the ghost hovered behind him. He made it just past his door when the green light disappeared entirely.

Cole looked around, and, when he realized the ghost was seemingly gone, he sat down on his bed and opened up the group chat.

criminal has changed their name to supersonic FI-YEAHHHH: alright bro im comin over FI-YEAHHHH: gonna get all ghostbusters on this guy for you wateryoudoing: kai you are NOT going out at 2 am FI-YEAHHHH: also jay change your name back wateryoudoing: KAI supersonic: NUH UH 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠 has changed supersonic’s name to jaywalkingisacrime jaywalkingisacrime: ZANE jaywalkingisacrime: I DO NT JAYWALK FI-YEAHHHH: its in your name rocknroll: it’s gone rocknroll: for now rocknroll: kai you don’t need to come over FI-YEAHHHH: good bc i changed my mind FI-YEAHHHH: nya totally didnt drag me back inside jaywalkingisacrime has changed their name to NOTACRIMINAL 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠: sus FI-YEAHHHH: sus rocknroll: sus wateryoudoing: sus NOTACRIMINAL: i hate it here greenmachine: can you all GO TO BED

Cole closed the chat and turned off his phone, setting it on his nightstand. He flopped back onto his bed, arms spread wide and staring at the ceiling. Without the light of his phone or the ghost, he couldn’t make out any details, but he wasn’t exactly looking for anything in particular.

So he was haunted. Great. And if the jukebox at the hideout was any indication, then the ghost was following him around. Maybe even all the time.

Cole glared at the darkness. He had no idea where the ghost went, but it clearly had to be able to turn invisible given recent events. After a moment more of glaring around his room, he sighed, throwing an arm over his face.

First Master, this sucked.

+=+=+=+=+

“Hey, Garmadorks!”

As one, the Secret Ninja Force glanced over at Chen and his cronies. Cole frowned, adjusting his hold on his boombox.

Lloyd winced. “Yeah, Chen?” He tried for a smile, but it came out just as pained and awkward as always.

Chen and the other cheerleaders glared at them all. “Your dad’s last attack totalled my mom’s insurance firm.” He bit out.

“So what?” Nya asked, leaning over the table to glare at Chen directly. “Lloyd had nothing to do with that.”

“Uh, he totally did?” One of the cheerleaders objected. “It was his dad’s invasion. That’s like, involvement enough.” She twirled some of her hair around her finger as she spoke.

“Yeah!” Added another cheerleader. “And he hasn’t done anything to make up for his dad’s invasions, either.” She flipped her hair. “He totally owes the whole city reparations and stuff.”

“That makes zero sense!” Zane pointed out. “Lloyd and his father do not have contact.”

“Yeah!” Kai agreed, leaning up against Lloyd in a show of support. “Just lay off, Chen. Go back to braiding each other’s hair.” He sneered.

“Ugh, of course Garmadon hides behind his goons,” Chen groused, stepping forwards. “Real evil villain behav—”

“What—h—uck?” A new voice asked from behind Chen. A voice that was crackly and echoey in a familiar way—

Everyone jolted as a glowing green ghost appeared behind Chen, arms crossed and face missing. Nya grabbed a fork and held it threateningly, Jay shrunk back into his scarf, and Cole gripped his boombox a little tighter.

Chen and the other two turned around to face the new voice, and Chen scoffed. “Oh, yeah, real clever!” He bluffed. “But everyone knows that ghosts aren’t real—” Chen froze, his finger halfway into the ghost’s chest. Cole could only imagine the face Chen was making.

“Uhhhh, we gotta go!” Chen decided, as the other two cheerleaders nodded. “We’ve got practice, so…” And with that, they left.

Everyone stared. The majority of the lunchroom was still as active as ever, most people paying no attention to the literal ghost just feet away from Lloyd’s table. The ghost stared at them all, face flickering in and out of visibility, missing-unmissing features still frustratingly familiar but unrecognizable.

“Why are you haunting Cole?” Nya demanded, brandishing her fork in one hand and grabbing a milk carton in the other.

The ghost vanished.

Cole’s forehead hit the table with a quiet thud. He groaned in frustration. Zane’s cool hand rubbed at his back.

“Sooooo… that happened.” Lloyd said, as Kai reached over to pat Cole’s shoulder.

“I can look up how to perform an exorcism!” Zane suggested cheerfully. Cole sat up, opening his mouth to reply—

The Garmadon Alarm went off. Of all the possible timings—

“We’ll ask Master Wu later.” Lloyd suggested. “For now, we gotta get to our lockers!”

+=+=+=+=+

The texture of the record spinning under his fingers was exactly what Cole needed after weeks of being haunted. For all that Garmadon attacks sucked and made everything a thousand times harder for Lloyd, Cole could admit to finding some comfort in the familiarity of knocking about Garmadon’s generals with his mech.

“Kai, Zane, Cole, downtown!” Lloyd ordered, “I’m going after Garmadon.” It was the same setup as always, but it worked, so none of them complained. Cole rolled his mech along, knocking down as many generals on the way to the main action as he could.

Barely halfway through the horde, the music playing in the Earth Mech’s cockpit cut off with a familiar screeching sound. Cole flinched back, gripping his hood as his mech spun out of control. “No no no—”

With a final shuddering wail, the Earth Mech shut down, its one wheel spinning for a moment before the whole thing toppled over.

“Cole’s down!” Jay’s voice crackled over the radio. “On fourth street and blondo!”

“I’m on it!” Kai said, but last Cole remembered Kai was towards the other side of the city.

“Shit.” The ghost spun into existence besides Cole. “I didn—ean t—o that.”

“Yeah, well, you did.” Cole snapped, struggling with his mech’s lifeless controls. He needed to restart his mech, and fast—

Too late. One of Garmadon’s generals had already made it to the cockpit, banging on the glass. Cole barely had a moment to register the cracks spider webbing across before he had to raise his arms to protect his face from falling shards. Gloved hands grabbed his arms and hauled him out of his mech before he could do anything, tossing him towards the pavement.

Cole rolled, came to a stop, and groaned before forcing himself to sit up. The general was already on him, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him back as more generals rushed over.

“Wh—get off me!” Cole kicked, as another general grabbed his other shoulder. The ghost flickered into visibility beside him, only to disappear a moment later.

“Garmadon said to unmask him!” A general declared, and hands were reaching for Cole’s mask. No no no—

He wrenched one arm free and used to punch the general holding him, before darting off. Another general tackled him, and they grappled on the pavement.

The ghost became visible again. “Use sp—tsu!” It urged, hands passing through the generals uselessly.

“Use what?” What was the ghost talking about? Cole only half knew how to fight—the Secret Ninja Force used mechs!

A general grabbed Cole’s mask and yanked. Cole shoved forwards, slamming his head against their glass bubble thing and grabbing at their hand. Too late—another general grabbed his mask and pulled it off completely, revealing his face for all to see. He could hear all the other ninja yelling on the radio, could see Kai’s fire mech approaching the scene—which, uh, Cole would rather not be barbequed, thanks—but there were so many generals. There were too many of them! Cole needed his mech!

“Ugh, just let me—” And then the green glow phased into Cole, and—

PAIN!

The world tumbled as his head pounded. Lights flashed in front of his eyes, noise and motion pummeling his senses. I don’t want you to be sick anymore Cole did it! I caused the cave in Bequeath bequeath bequeath Nice to meet you kid Ninja never quit We don’t always get what we want That’s not a coconut ZANE! Twinkletoes couldn’t deliver the goods You know blue! Try fire dork I know who I am! I should’ve bowed out long ago It was to protect him Ninja never quit This macho stuff is making you both look like fools Don’t tell me I have to ride this like a broomstick I got the scroll! That’s not fair I’M GONNA BITE YOU Make a mockery of our family legacy! SHOW YOURSELF! I didn’t see motormouth on it You look white! It’s a bug You need to remember Grief takes many shapes and forms Ninja never quit This isn’t about numbers No problem with that HEEEEELLLLP I’d love to visit! Is that why you ran away? My dad was a blacksmith Fair isn’t a word where I come from! Close the circle Don’t think you can lie to me We’re a team Brother sharpens brother Let’s burn these memories from my head Ninja never quit Maybe you belong together! WHY WOULD YOU TOUCH THE SCARY PICTURE JAY I was gonna eat that I can make a little extra if I do the human piñata Light as a feather Pinky! Rawr Ninja never quit I’m not strong enough! But we’re UNDERGROUND Eat dirt Bluebelle! I get it Close the circle I DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD DO THAT COLE You like my bed! Be the key! Some sing and dance It was supposed to be my day off I am the MC I’ll turn you black and blue! Ninja never quit I should have bowed out long ago This is about family! There are reputable performers that attend clown college Close the circle We’re in this together I promised to protect him! Ninja never quit JUST TAKE THE FLIER You didn’t make it out in time The mighty Cole! A prank? Really? Direct from the business end of your own weapon! Close the circle I know you too well Promise me you’ll always stand up I’m a… ghost! This dance ain’t over There’s magic in the air I saw you stand up for what is right! Close the circle Wow Lloyd’s going through puberty It’s now or never! Close the circle Win this thing See you’re missing? Close the circle Why don’t you make like a ghost and vanish? You received my message Close the circle Ha, Look at you! Some climb mountains Close the circle Not to a ghost! To those who are cruel and unjust I can’t see my reflection Close the circle Settling my debt Where is my reflection You can barely see yourself! Close the circle What are you even fighting for? Your friends have abandoned you! Your master has abandoned you! You are all ALONE!

Just one more lonely ghost, not a friend in the world—

The pavement was rough and uneven against Cole’s hands and knees, his whole body convulsing as the green glow pulled off. He retched, burning in this throat and bitterness on his lips. The world tilted as he heaved, cracked pavement coming up to slam his shoulder and side. Cole shuddered.

After a moment, the spinning slowed enough that Cole could push himself up. The green glow—the ghost—rippled where it stood amongst dismembered bones. It was as unstable as ever, but with the jumble of images and voices still rattling Cole’s brain, he could finally recognize the missing-unmissing features.

The pavement all around him was cracked, uneven, in several spider-webbing radiuses from several points. Where before Garmadon’s many generals had stood proudly, ready to fight, there were only a few of them laying across the pavement, groaning in pain or outright unconscious. Cole looked the ghost—who kept flickering like a bad lamp, rude—in the eye and spoke.

“You’re me.”

“COLE!” And then there was the rest of the Secret Ninja Force, picking their way over cracked concrete and down-for-the-count generals. Kai was the first to reach him, warm hands on Cole’s shoulders helping to steady the still-shaking world.

“What did you do to our friend?!” Nya demanded, charging at the ghost—Cole’s ghost? No, no, just calling him the ghost was fine. The ghost vanished with a crackly yelp, then flickered back into view a few feet to the left.

Cole’s head was pounding. Nausea had settled into his throat like a contented frog—he couldn’t swallow it down. The world was no longer spinning, thankfully, but he was dizzy all the same.

“I believe we have just witnessed a real-life possession!” Zane suggested. “And you should put your mask back on!”

Oh, fuck. “Right.” Cole fumbled for his mask for a moment, before Kai leaned in and helped him get it off. It was too late anyway—Cole could hear murmuring towards the edges of the street. Witnesses, no doubt. He chanced a glance, and—yep. Phones.

Fuck.

“Let’s get out of here.” Lloyd decided, still on his mech. “And quickly.”

“Yeah.” Cole nodded, still leaning on Kai. “Please.”

+=+=+=+=+

Thankfully, nobody had followed them back to the secret hideout, nor did anyone seem to have paid attention to where their mechs were going. Everyone was too busy with Cole’s identity reveal, apparently.

Cole sat down by the jukebox, leaning against Zane, face buried in his hands. His head was killing him, throbbing with constant pain as all the disjointed memories rattled around in his head. His whole body felt like a wrung-out towel.

The ghost’s soft glow was just barely visible through his fingers. Nya had the thing at spearpoint, and though its voice had somehow become clearer since the possession, its answers weren’t making any sense.

“I see someone has had their identity revealed.” Master Wu’s voice cut through the doom and gloom, everyone paying attention as their sensei entered the hideout.

“It’s not his fault!” Lloyd hurriedly defended, among a chorus of agreement from the others. “His mech broke down, because of the ghost—” He pointed at the ghost in question, who flickered in what might have been shame.

“We n—ver had to—ide our identi—ies.” The ghost said, crossing its arms. “And I—elped.”

“You have a rift in your head.” Master Wu stepped back as he spoke. “It’s no wonder you’re so unstable.”

The ghost’s mouth flickered from closed to opened, but no words came out—just formless sound that flickered in and out as the ghost’s form melted and reformed, holes opening and closing throughout him.

“And familiar, as well.” Master Wu looked astounded—if such a thing was even possible.

“When he possessed me,” Cole started, wincing as a new wave of pain spiked through his head, “I saw… memories. Or something like that.” He grimaced, gripping Zane’s arm tightly. “He’s me.”

“WHAT?!” The response from the others was immediate. Cole flinched back from the noise.

Master Wu smacked his staff against the ground, and everyone calmed down. “You’re sure?” He asked.

Cole nodded. “Except…” He fumbled for the words he needed, “it’s not quite the same.”

“I—ould—hope not.” The ghost grumbled. “This plac—s—azy.”

“So it’s some… Cole from another world?” Jay asked, sounding just as lost as Cole felt.

“Perhaps.” Master Wu said, sizing the ghost up. “Regardless, it is clear that he and Cole are… cleaved.” He lightly smacked Cole’s arm, and the ghost flinched in tandem. “The longer he is here, the more closely tied you two will become.”

Cole rubbed at his arm. “So we just gotta send him home, right?” Even though he had no idea how to do that.

“There are ways to travel to other worlds—” Master Wu began—

“Realms.” The ghost’s voice crackled. “It’s—ealms.”

“For you, maybe.” Master Wu groused. “Hmm… that complicates things.” He lifted his staff, and played the chorus of “Home” by… Daughtry, if Cole remembered right.

The ghost turned and gave Cole a helpless sort of look—just before its face flickered out of existence for a moment. Cole shrugged, not sure what the ghost was looking for.

A fresh wave of pain rolled through Cole’s head. He hissed through grit teeth—it felt like his head was splitting in two!

“Master…” Lloyd started, “If Cole and the ghost are ‘cleaved’, and the ghost has a rift in his head…” He cast a helpless look to Wu, “What’ll happen to Cole if the rift opens?”

Master Wu frowned, then grabbed his flute and played a snatch of music. Since Cole was in too much pain to identify the song, Zane spoke up instead.

“That song is ‘Explode’ by Mother Mother!” He confirmed after a moment’s search. Immediately, his smile morphed into a frown. “That is terrible news!”

Jay gasped. “COLE’S GONNA EXPLODE?!”

“If this ghost cannot be sent home,” Master Wu began, “then probably.”

“Then we gotta send this ghost home!” Nya declared, to general agreement.

“Looking up all forms of interdimensional travel!” Zane stated, a loading bar appearing over his face.

Master Wu hummed. “There is reference material on the Bounty. Lloyd, Jay, and Nya, with me.” The three hurriedly stood. “Kai and Zane, continue to monitor Cole and the ghost.” Kai nodded, holding onto Cole’s arm.

Wu turned his attention to the ghost. “Try not to rip apart.” He suggested.

+=+=+=+=+

“So this circle will send Ghost home?” Lloyd asked, looking at the chalk lines rendered by Zane’s careful hand, then at the candles Master Wu had helped to set up. The ghost was standing next to Cole, who had managed to stand—mostly by leaning most of his weight onto Kai, who stood between him and the ghost.

Master Wu looked the circle over. “It… might.” He confirmed. Everyone stared at him. “What? I’ve traveled between worlds, not to wherever he’s from.”

“L—t’s—ust—urr—p.” The ghost said, his voice having gotten worse over the past two hours. His form wavered, barely visible at all but for the brightly glowing rift on his head. He walked to the center of the circle, and looked at Lloyd. “Ligh—t—up.”

Lloyd nodded, brandishing a lighter he had found on the Bounty. He kneeled down, pressing the flame to the chalk. It caught, and the whole circle began to glow.

A hole through the ghost’s chest grew wide, more holes appearing throughout it. Everyone watched as the glow from the circle grew in intensity…

And then it didn’t. Everyone looked on in horror as the ghost flickered in place and the circle’s glow dimmed down to nearly nothing.

“No…” Lloyd said.

“C’mon, work!” Kai urged, but the circle remained inert.

“It’s ho—peless.” The ghost lamented. “I’m going to fade—fade away.” Its voice echoed with a deep sort of pain that Cole felt even if he didn’t fully understand.

“No, you’re not.” Cole protested, stumbling forwards onto the circle. “Because ninja never quit.” Recognition flashed in the ghost’s eyes, and for a moment, his body was solid enough for Cole to recognize his own face staring back at him.

“Bro—” Kai stepped into the circle to grab Cole’s shoulder. The circle began to glow softly.

“Wait…” Lloyd looked at the circle. “Everyone, get in the circle!” He ordered. Nya jumped in without hesitation, Jay hesitating before stepping within it as well. Zane wheeled forwards, and the circle’s glow brightened even further.

Lloyd stepped forwards, and the circle lit up fully with an ominous hum—

A tearing sound rang out through the hideout as a sudden wind buffeted them all. The ground shook, the whole floor lit up, the ghost’s arms lit up orange, his hands hot against Cole’s arms—

The ground disappeared from under Cole—it felt like he was pushed through a hole too small, but without being crushed in any way. The nothingness around him spun, then Cole felt a sudden twist—

Cole grunted as he impacted what felt like an old wooden floor—and as Kai landed directly on top of him. Four more impacts sounded out, and Cole squinted against the bright green glow. It looked like they had been dropped into some old building in the middle of the night—but the ghost’s green illuminated the scene just well enough. When Cole finally processed what he was looking at, his jaw dropped.

He knew the ghost was some… alternate version of him. Probably. But, if he was being honest, he hadn’t really had any expectations for what would happen beyond the vague hope that it would all work out and the ghost would no longer need to haunt him.

This was… well.

Cole watched as the ghost floated towards—it looked like a corpse, if he was being honest, skin pulled taut over the flesh. A nasty-looking hole lined with green light in the guy’s chest caught Cole’s eyes, and he winced. More off-putting than that, though, was the empty stare set into a very familiar face. His face.

The corpse stumbled forwards, and then it and the ghost both raised a hand. They reached out, and Cole wriggled in an attempt to get out from under a squirming Kai and turned-around Zane as the ghost’s fingers met the corpse’—

There was a very bright explosion.

Cole and the others were all thrown back onto a set of stairs, the hard edge digging into Cole’s gut as his chin slammed against another stair. Ow, that hurt, and now all of Zane’s weight was on top of him instead of just his legs—

Cole shoved Zane off of him, and looked around. The secret hideout was gone, replaced with an old… temple? that Cole didn’t recognize. The floor at ground level was scorched in a vaguely circular shape, two massive doors across the room were wide open, revealing a grassy field and night sky—

And there were six figures all in a heap on the floor, the one in the center sobbing with laughter. Six familiar figures, who all slowly stood while still pressed together.

Lloyd spoke first. “Hey, wait!”

The six strangers turned their attention onto the Secret Ninja Force. For a moment, nobody moved or spoke. Then—

“What the fuck?!”

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

monster high (live action) + text posts (pt 5)

(1 2 3 4)

[still-living-like-im-trying]

Sketch of Ambrosius from my Obsidian Gold AU

[factorialsotherfandoms]

And done! Mostly archivists, some Roier, Fit, and the rest of deathfam at the end. TW: aftermath of torture, major character injuries, fantasy sickness, ooc warning for probs everyone but the situation is fucked so who knows. It's 6638 words please just take it as it is and love it or at least the idea for me <3

The doorbell rings, and it pulls Cellbit from his sleep. He’s curled on the floor of the fear room, having never quite made it to bed last night. With a bit of effort he pulls himself to his feet, cursing out whomever decided to wake him at this hour.

If it isn’t important, he’s starting another murder spree.

“Coming!” he calls, unsure if it will reach, as he takes the elevator up and then stalks down the hallways.

He gets to the doorway, and rips it open. With a sigh he prepares to berate them, only to freeze as he opens the door.

It’s Philza.

Philza. Who has been missing for a little over two months.

Philza, dressed in rags and smelling of blood.

“Philza?” He asks, looking over him, looking for his wounds. “We missed you; where've you been?”

And it doesn't matter that Cellbit had been asleep, because Philza is somehow alive and somehow back, even after so long. He can’t be angry, not seeing him wide eyed and like this.

He doesn't get a reply, just a shake of Philza's head. He sways in place, stumbling into the wall. Cellbit reaches out, taking his arm and trying to support him.

Philza looks at him, and there's a purple taint to his eyes.

Some sort of void sickness?

What the fuck.

Cellbit wants to ask, wants to scream and to shout, but there are clearly much more pressing problems here. Instead he takes a deep breath, and tries to position himself to take more of Philza's weight.

Cellbit is a wet tissue of a man, strength wise but he could swear Philza was never this light before.

Philza, who flinches at the touch, then all but collapses against Cellbit's side.

“Do you have a warpstone?” Cellbit asks, already thinking through if he has the supplies to make a spare. “We should probably get you to the infirmary…”

The weight on Cellbit's side is suddenly gone. A trail of bloody footprints stain the stonework as Philza stumbles backwards, rapidly shaking his head. All until he's pressed against the wall and the… then he just shakes.

And, fuck, Philza is usually a sensible one. But it's been months, and he's wounded, and Cellbit can see the signs of torture and knows the obvious culprits but…

“Okay,” he thinks, and thinks again. “Okay. My drawing room then. I have the first aid kit Mike made for Richas somewhere.”

Philza calms, and hesitantly nods, and goes as if to stand before leaning back against the wall, and offering out hands instead.

Why isn't he speaking? Void-sickness, possibly, but if so Cellbit would expect the taint to be visible on his lips or throat. Roier would probably say something about trauma, but Roier isn't here right now - he's taken Richas and Pepito for a sleepover at Foolish's dragon and, hell, at least the children aren't here to see the blood on the floor.

He'll have to clean before they get home.

Still, Cellbit takes Philza's arm, helping him drape his weight across Cellbit. He drags more than carries him, and most of their movement is kept going only by Cellbit.

Beneath his hands, Cellbit can feel things - too thin, but then the Federation has probably starved him (why is he void-sick, if the Federation took him? That doesn't add up but who else would it be?). There's dried blood beneath his fingers, and some tacky like the scabs have not quite been able to set. There are ridges, too, new scars born across his skin. Philza’s own fingers are weak against Cellbit’s arm, hurting and blistered and the skin scraped like he had been scrabbling in gravel.

Torture. Cellbit knows what torture is.

He wonders if Philza remembers any of it, or if he is like him.

Either way, Cellbit is going to find Cucurucho, and rip his spine through his neck.

With a trail of bloody footprints they make it to the drawing room. Cellbit helps Philza sit, making sure he is steady before letting go. There's a water jug left on the table, so he gets Philza a glass, and hands it to him.

Cellbit doesn’t ask ‘where the fuck have you been’ like he wants to, nor does he comment on the man’s state, instead he says “wait there. I’ll get some potions” before turning and sprinting back up the stairs.

Potions, bandages, stuff for stitches, water and soup - he grabs two buckets of water and a bottle or three of antiseptic, too, just to be sure. Did the Federation have him? It’s the only answer Cellbit can think of - from just a brief look Cellbit could see he was covered in wounds, friction burns on his ankles and wrists while his feet bled, and he looks half-starved. He’s pale, too, too pale, and he isn’t sure whether to hope it’s blood loss or lack of sunlight as both options suck.

He messages Roier, just in case - Missa he’ll worry about later, once he knows what is going on. No need to worry Philza’s loved ones in the middle of the night, and certainly not when they’re surrounded by people.

HIs knife goes in his belt - there’s no room for mistakes.

And then it’s sprinting back to his front room, only to find Philza is… gone?

He would call it a hallucination, if not for the bloody footprints still all over his carpet, and the still-full glass of water beside the sofa.

“Philza?” he calls, swallowing the crack in his voice.

Did the Feds steal him back from his own damned house?!

There’s a shuffling nearby. Cellbit turns, looks up, sees Philza perched on his toes, bloodying the top of his bookshelf.

“Sit back down and let me see where you’re hurt,” Cellbit points to the chair.

Philza looks about and around, curling tighter into himself. He stares at the window.

Jumps down.

Bolts towards it.

Crashes into the glass.

There’s a very definite noise of main, but it’s muffled and something about it is /wrong/.

Cellbit grabs his shoulder, steadying him, leading him back to the sofa. His own hands are shaking, and Philza keeps glancing back to the window.

What about the window is wrong…?

As soon as he sits down, Cellbit goes to examine it. He cannot see anything odd, but pulls tight the curtains just in case. 

“Better?” Cellbit asks.

He does not get a response, so he just hopes that he is.

The next question is… What first… Philza’s body is an itinerary of injuries - his face and his wings suspiciously intact but for the exhaustion and the void-sickness in his eyes, the stain also dappled across his nails and small patches of skin - but Cellbit knows what he wants first.

Everything is bad, but it is Philza’s feet that are bleeding.

So he grabs everything and kneels before the sofa. Carefully, watching Philza as closely as he is watched in return, he takes one of his feet. Cellbit has to pick the remains of utterly ruined shoes away, just tiny scraps of the fabric which once made up the uppers and soles. Beneath that are the wounds, and around it the blood.

Some of it is stones, and mud, and sticks, and dirt.

Some of it is blisters, a mark of how long Philza must have been walking.

Some of it looks suspiciously like very, very deliberate slash marks - all across the soles of his feet, and across the backs of his ankles. They’re deep, and surrounded by cross-hatched scars of equally thin slashes, like the wounds have been applied again and again and again.

If Cellbit were to cut someone’s feet like that, it would be to stop them from running. With how deep the slashes are… He doesn’t think that Philza was ever supposed to walk again.

“Fuck,” he feels himself swear and this… this doesn’t look like the Federation at all.

The friction burns around his wrists and ankles, looking like chains, sure, but the slicing…? They’d trust their bars, and they’d torture with something bigger, and if you are genuinely a flight risk they lock you away. Not… Not this.

It’s just as cruel, but not really in their style.

So he’s killing Cucurucho and someone else, then. Just got to work out who, because he cannot think of anything else on the Island which would trap someone in the void.

Still he slowly works on picking out the debris, doing his best to clean the wounds with a cloth dipped in clean water and antiseptic poured on it as he goes. The wounds are so extensive, though, and dirty, that…

Well, Cellbit isn’t a doctor; he pours the entire other bottle of antiseptic into one of the water buckets. Once he’s done all he can with his fingers and the cloth, he shoves Philza’s foot into the bucket.

Philza makes a strange noise; Cellbit checks, but he is gestured at to continue, so… So he repeats the actions.

The second foot is, somehow, worse; the cuts are shallower, but there’s barely skin between them.

Cellbit is out of his depth, he’s so far out of his depth, but they need treating now, and Roier has yet to answer the message - he’s probably, like everyone else, already asleep.

He picks out the gravel, and places this foot more carefully into the antiseptic bucket, and prays it’s enough to avoid an infection.

From there he moves to where he felt blood before, tracking the wounds. These ones are smaller, simpler, much more like their usual issues. Cellbit knows how to clean up a cut and bandage an awkward shoulder wound - he’s done it before. He can bandage to give pressure to a sprained wrist, and he’s certainly had his fair share of blistered fingers in his life.

The quantity is wrong, all wrong, but actually tending the wounds is something anyone of the island could have done.

And then… And then he must get carried away, too busy charting them, too busy tracking the black-ish stains on Philza’s stress and trying to calculate how bad the void-sickness is, too occupied to be taking proper care.

Because he does not mean to scrape a blister on his palm, tearing it open and letting the fluid leak out.

But he does.

Philza screams, but it does not come fully out. Neither do his lips open, the sound trapped in his throat and his nose, and Cellbit…

Cellbit has a horrible realisation.

“Philza,” he asks. “Philza, can you open your mouth for me?”

Philza shakes his head.

Wait, English is ambiguous, maybe… Maybe he’s not…

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

One shaking finger is raised.

And Cellbit slowly nods.

He’s known things like this before, he’s seen it before - he’s done it to people before - but think of it being done to someone who has only ever trusted him, only ever tried to help or be his friend…

“Can I touch your lips?” he asks.

Philza doesn’t react at all. He stares at Cellbit and barely even breathes.

Still Cellbit approaches, hesitant hands reaching out. He cannot see anything, not like this, so…

So if he’s right…

It’s not glue.

He’d be able to feel it if it were glue.

Slowly, carefully, he pushes a finger between Philza’s lips

and there, at the back, he finds the stitches. Thin but strong, pulled extremely tight and narrowly sewn. There’s not even space for a straw, and Cellbit knows how to fix this but he’s not sure he /can/.

He doesn’t even know who he needs to dissect.

“I…” he stares at it, leans closer to look, examines the thread - it was white, once, but it’s brown with dried blood and spit. They’re set so far back that they’re sewn more into Philza’s gums than the skin of his lips.

Cellbit pulls his hands away, “I don’t think I can help without hurting you.”

Philza tilts his head to the side, and gestures with bandaged hands.

He seems… resigned. Like he expected this.

Scared, too, glancing now at the door.

Who can Cellbit ask for help? Philza would probably want Missa, or maybe Fit or Etoiles or… Someone else early. But Fit is helping Missa protect Chayanne and Tallulah, and Etoiles is knee deep in /something/, which…

Roier might know. Pac and Mike are scientists, they could. Foolish has all sorts of strange skills, as does Bad.

He could just put a message in the general chat, but he really, really doesn’t want to do that…

And, there is also the problem that everyone is asleep.

“I’m going to get you some pyjamas,” Cellbit decides on, rather than making a decision before he’s worked out the right answer. “Will you be alright?”

Philza nods, his eyes already drifting to the door.

Cellbit hates it, hates how wrong this all is; Philza should not be curled on his sofa, clutching at himself, injured and shaking in fear. But, he is, and there is very little that Cellbit can do about it.

Something to wear is a start though - he heads back to his room, leaving Cellbit behind. Nobody on the island has a lot of spare clothes, but he manages to find a clean and relatively soft nightshirt at the bottom of a chest. He shakes out the worst of the creases, deems it serviceable enough, and heads back.

Philza is gone.

Again.

This time Cellbit checks for the footsteps - wet and still slightly tinged pink. Cursing the man and everything else he runs after, hoping he didn’t get too far.

He finds him very close to the bridge’s warp plate. Cellbit grabs his arm and, this time, Philza fights back.

It’s not a long fight, only seconds before Philza is limp in his grip and doing his best to snarl despite his sewn together lips.

The stitches don’t tear, but his skin does.

“Stop that!” Cellbit tries. “You’re making it worse.”

Philza /freezes/ when Cellbit yells, and his heart drops somehow further into his feet.

“Just… Come back inside? Please?”

Cellbit is so fucking tired.

Philza… Shakes his head.

“Philza.”

He pulls away his arm, and tries to run.

It’s not…

“Why are you running?”

It is far from the tone that Cellbit usually asks that question in, but it’s still one.

Philza… Does pause. He can’t even mouth his words, but he gestures to his eyes, and then to the darkness around them, glancing over his shoulder as he does.

He’s been looking around a lot…

“You’re being chased?”

Given someone was clearly trying to keep him wherever he was, it’s the obvious conclusion.

He nods - once, twice, gestures harder at the darkness and makes to keep running.

And then his eyes catch on a rose.

Missa had mentioned something about roses, how they were supposed to protect the family. There had been a garden of roses, the children asleep and Philza and Missa sat talking beneath the moon. And then Phil just… Dropped through the floor mid-sentence. Gone, before Missa could grab him. Gone, just like that, from a garden that should have been a sanctuary but whose leaves were withered now.

They’d looked and they’d searched and they’d hunted, and all that could be found was a small hole, with purple-touched darkness beneath.

Much the same colour as the void-taint in Philza’s eyes.

Cellbit picks a rose from the bush, and hands it to Philza, “Missa mentioned they’re… protection charms for you?”

At the mention of Missa, Philza's eyes snap from the flower to Cellbit, eyes suddenly much wider and Cellbit…

Cellbit maybe should have said sooner, because all he would want to know if he’d been tortured is if Roier and Richarlyson were safe.

“He’s safe,” Cellbit promises. “Foolish is hosting a sleepover for the Eggs tonight - he took Chayanne and Tallulah.” 

Philza doesn’t look like he believes him.

So, Cellbit presses on.

“He showed me the rose garden, though the flowers were dead,” he continues. “And the… hole? Portal? Void-patch?”

Philza wriggles his hand, holds up three fingers, and huh. Between the rose and talk of Missa, he at least seems to have calmed a tiny bit. The talk of a dead garden seems upsetting, but he clings to the rose in bandaged hands like something precious.

“It was very small, very precise. Clearly whatever took you only wants you,” and Cellbit is spitballing, only hoping he is on the right track both emotionally and logically as he still pieces it together. “It hasn’t taken anyone else, either; even if you stay in my house, it’s unlikely it will take me.”

Frankly, Cellbit doesn’t care if it does - all the more chance to create a distraction for one of them to kill it - but he knows Philza will.

Because it’s Philza, and he’s a better person than Cellbit ever had the chance to be.

“So, please, come back inside?”

Philza looks at the rose, then at Cellbit’s hand, then hesitantly, very hesitantly, takes it.

It’s hard work, leading Philza back into the safety of the castle. He’s edgier than before, and keeps being startled by the slightest sounds. He is usually vigilant, noticing the smallest of oddities, but to jump at every animal scurrying in the underbush…

Cellbit sees him reach for an axe which is not there, and maybe that’s part of the problem too.

They make it back to safety, and Philza clings to the rose even as his feet are cleaned again - bandaged this time - and he is helped into the nightshirt. Cellbit has always been the taller of the two, but they were once of similar builds - it should not hang nearly as loosely as it does.

With his lips sewn shut… Cellbit isn’t sure he can help.

“They’re probably asleep, but do you want me to text Missa? So he can bring Chayanne and Tallulah in the morning?”

Philza hesitates - if he’s still being chased… Well, Cellbit can guess why the concern.

“I can put some wards down, and ask them to come with Roier? He’ll look after them.”

He gets a nod this time, though it is slow.

Cellbit pulls out his communicator, focused as he tries to think of how to tell Missa - it’s not even a case of what would he want to know if Roier was in Philza’s situation, because Missa… Cellbit doesn’t know the man well, but they certainly have very different personalities.

In the end he settles on ‘Philza appeared at my place last night. He’s hurt, but I’ve been looking after him. Get Roier to show you over. Doesn’t have a communicator or anything.’

He shows it to Philza, who hits send, and then with clumsy, bandaged fingers writes ‘Did HE hurt you? Be safe - HE still wants me.’

That message is sent, then another is typed. It’s just as slow, Philza obviously frustrated as he has to delete duplicated letters. Still, he turns Cellbit’s communicator towards him, and shows him the message.

‘Cut it’

That those words took three minutes and clear /pain/ to write cuts deeply into Cellbit.

Just being stabbed is too kind for whatever did this. Cellbit will tear it apart with his /teeth/.

“Cut what?” he asks.

Philza hesitates, before stealing Cellbit’s knife, and bringing it to his lips.

“Stop!” Cellbit grabs his wrist, disarming him far more easily than he should have been able to. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

The reply he gets is a withering glare.

It’s good to see him have some confidence back, whatever the roses mean, but if he’s going to use it to hurt himself…

“I don’t… Think I can do this,” Cellbit licks his own lips, running a thumb of Philza’s.

His hand with the knife in it is grabbed, and tugged on.

“Fine!” If he doesn’t, Philza’s going to do it as soon as his back is turned, isn’t he? “God, I’ll try. But just enough to drink something, okay? I don’t trust myself.”

There’s a long pause, but eventually Philza nods. Cellbit swaps his knife for a smaller switchblade, flicking it open and peeling Philza’s lips open. He aims for the centre where there is least risk of damaging other things, carefully slotting the knife through…

Fuck.

He manages to cut a few of the strings, but in doing so he catches Philza’s lip. It’s not a deep cut, but he can see the blood bubbling.

He wants to lick it.

He presses a tissue there instead.

“Hold this, just let me get you a straw.”

Cellbit waits to make sure Philza has the tissue held in place - he’s smiling at him, how is Philza smiling at him when he /cut/ and /torture victim/ - before running to the kitchens.

How is he being trusted like this? He’s a fucking murderer, a heartless, cruel man; he isn’t…

He isn’t someone you fucking trust with a knife near your face.

What has this island done to him? He doesn’t mind it, doesn’t… He doesn’t hate it, he actually likes it - the having friends, the having family, the people relying on him.

It’s fucking terrifying, though.

This has only proved that.

He still needs some moments to calm down. His hands shake with the memory of blood on Philza’s lip, and it’s all he can do to pour some soup into a saucepan, and set it on the hob. Half-remembering the last time he starved he adds extra water, thinning it down. While it cooks he makes himself tea, and fetches Philza water, apple juice, and a selection of straws.

It takes a few minutes to warm the soup through. Once it has, Cellbit has just about found his footing again. He serves it up, and carries everything through.

“Here, sorry about the wait,” he says.

Philza has somehow found a second rose, and is awkwardly braiding them together. With his hands it is loose, but Cellbit can see what he’s trying for.

His lip has stopped bleeding, at least.

Neither is put down as he’s handed the glass of water. It takes Cellbit a few moments to work out the problem, but eventually realises; with his own fully functional hands he helps Philza angle the straw through the gap in the stitching, and lets him drink.

He drinks like a dying man, and Cellbit supposes it’s close enough to true. He doubts either of them have any idea how long his lips have been stitched together, but it’s long enough that the thread is stained…

Philza manages the water, then looks curiously at the rest of the tray. Cellbit offers it to him; he hesitates over the juice, but points at the soup.

Cellbit checks the temperature first - drinking the water had been slow enough to cool it down a little at least - before helping Philza once again. This time he has to help support the bowl as well as the straw. It’s awkward, but they manage it between them.

About a third of the watery soup is managed before Philza refuses more.

Cellbit has no idea if that’s good or not.

Still, they’re both exhausted, and it’s something to keep him going, and Roier will be here in the morning. Roier isn’t a doctor, of course, but Cellbit trusts him with significantly more delicate things than himself.

Cellbit can be dexterous, but delicate is for investigations not handiwork.

Forcing Philza to walk again on his injured feet seems needlessly cruel; the sofa is not the comfiest place to sleep, but Cellbit would put money on it being the comfiest place he’s slept in a long while.

“Sleep here - I’ll go grab some blankets,” Cellbit says, and he leaves, and by the time he returns Philza has already passed out on the couch.

He tucks the blankets around him, making sure he will stay warm overnight; the castle is draughty at the best of times, and when someone is sick and injured is not the time to tempt fate.

Then he sits on the floor beside the bed, knife in his lap, meaning to think and meaning to keep guard.

Most of Philza’s injuries are just torture wounds. They say little about his captor, or what they want. He’s clearly been in the End or the Void for too long - his eyes have a hint more purple, there’s dappled stains across his skin, and Cellbit isn’t sure which symptoms he has but it will probably make him struggle for warmth and fuck with his brain. That should be something like proof against this being a Federation ploy - they don’t seem to have easy access to other dimensions - but is not definitive.

The slicing on his feet despite the lack of it on his wings also is not definitive, but does not fit their usual goal. Unusual location and unusual goals? Probably not them. Stitching inside his mouth… Adds to that, really, the Federation are more cut your tongue out or sedate people sorts, not sew them up.

A goal, a goal… Philza’s face and his wings are mostly untouched, which would imply some awful… display piece, Cellbit supposes. The rags of his clothes would count against it, but perhaps he was only allowed to wear them when he was needed. Despite that appearance he could not have been that highly valued - the stitching in his mouth prevents drinking, so he would have died in another few days. Mentally scattered, but does seem to recognise people and places still - Cellbit rules out brainwashing, or at least if they tried it they failed. The injuries don’t imply anything sexual, which leaves…

Cellbit runs through it all again. Nothing quite makes sense, except…

End entities don’t like water, do they? Maybe they don’t need to drink.

Do they even need to eat? Or do they exist on some other sort of sustenance?

If he was held captive by something with no need to eat or drink, the sewn up mouth is no longer incompatible with the idea of a trophy, or a prize…

---

At some point Cellbit must have fallen back to sleep, because he wakes up to yelling. He doesn’t even think - he grabs the closest item - bucket of water - and throws it in the direction of the assailant.

He recognises the voice about three seconds later, when Roier shrieks.

“Fuck! Sorry!” Cellbit’s awake now, hair stuck to the side of his face as he scrambles up.

“Bitch!” Roier shakes off the water then, realising Cellbit is getting up, latches onto him.

Now they are both wet.

“Are you okay?! Roier’s revenge is had, or maybe not as wet hands trail all over him. “Fuck, Gatinho, don’t message me asking for medical advice at 3am and leave blood on the carpet! Come wake me up next time!”

“I’m fine!” he promises back. “I’m sorry, I’m okay, I’m fine - is Missa with you?”

“Missa?”

Roier left before Missa was awake. Fuck. Hopefully he works it out, because Cellbit’s too asleep for this.

“It’s Philza,” Cellbit replies, dropping his voice at the secret. “He woke me up last night, looking for help. I think?”

Roier’s lips form a perfect O, as he turns and finally spots Philza still sleeping on the couch. Cellbit watches as he looks him over - most of the injuries are beneath the blankets, but he is still clearly unwell - and then sees the straw in the part-finished bowl of watery soup.

A rose is still clutched in Philza’s hand, just visible where it slips out from the blanket.

“How bad is it?” Roier asks, quiet.

“They sewed his fucking mouth shut,” Cellbit replies. “I cut a little so he could drink, but stopped when I caught his lip. Cuff burns on his wrists and ankles, fucked hands, they sliced up his /feet/ so he couldn’t run, then he ran on them barefoot anyway.”

“Stupid Feds,” Roier’s nose twitches.

Cellbit shakes his head, “there’s void-taint on his chest and in his eyes. No idea how sick he is, but the Feds don’t have End access.”

“That we know about.”

And Cellbit has to concede that point - still, he talks Roier quietly through Philza’s other injuries, and explains what he did. At the end, his husband looks about as helpless as he feels, but does pull a small pair of scissors out of a pocket.

“We should probably give him, I dunno, antibiotics or something,” Roier pulls a face. “For his feet. How do we treat void-sickness? Is it just keep him away from it?”

Cellbit has no idea - it’s not like he has spent prolonged periods of time in the End, “someone will know, right? Maybe when Missa gets here?”

Roier raises an eyebrow and, fair, Missa also has likely never been to the End, but Cellbit thinks the man deserves more credit than he ever gets. If it’s for Philza, he can probably brute force his way into the answer by sheer stubbornness alone.

That entire family is a bit like that.

“If not… We can at least ask who they want telling,” Cellbit concedes. “I didn’t want to just put anything in general and have everyone on my house.”

“We’re going to murder whoever did this, right?”

“Of course.”

Roier kisses his cheek, and once Cellbit is done blushing he finds Philza watching them.

“Morning,” he says, as Roier notices and waves.

“Hey Philza,” Roier drawls on the name. “Cellbo says you got something stuck in your mouth?”

Philza flips him off. It’s a clear struggle for him to sit up, but he manages it.

“Is it okay if Roier takes the stitches out?” Cellbit asks, getting a withering look from both of them at how soft his voice turned as he said it.

Despite that, Philza nods. Roier nudges him into a different position, and sits opposite on the sofa; he actually remembers to wash his hands before peeling back Philza’s lips, and Cellbit feels a bit stupid for not thinking of that.

As he watches Roier carefully use the tiny scissors to cut the threads, Cellbit keeps guard. His fingers flick back and forth over his knife but there’s no target, nobody who isn’t dear to him here to use it on.

He’s helpless, and he knows it; hopefully between them they can work out who he needs to kill and how.

The threads are cut, and Philza is allowed a drink as Roier finds the tweezers in the first aid kit. Pulling out the threads comes with flinching and bleeding wounds, and there’s only so much that antiseptic-soaked cotton wool can do.

The thread-holes are small enough that they stop bleeding quickly, but the blood from Philza’s mouth is horrific.

There’s a thread or two left to remove when Cellbit hears the door, and remembers he should have checked his comms. He leaves Roier treating Philza to head down.

This time he opens the door to find Missa, Chayanne and Tallulah - and an awkward looking FitMC, hanging towards the back.

And Cellbit suddenly realises it’d be a really bad idea to let the children see their father while Roier’s still treating him.

“Is Phil…?” Missa asks.

“Roier’s treating some of his injuries,” Cellbit replies. “Do you want to help me make breakfast for everyone?”

The sign Chayanne slammed down is put away in favour of nodding, and grabbing his sister’s hand. If Missa bought Fit, even if only for directions, Cellbit is happy enough to let him in - he gestures for him to follow, and leads everyone to the kitchen.

It’s awkward, and quiet, and nobody seems to know how to break it. Still, Cellbit shows them around and admits “they sewed his mouth shut. Roier’s fixing it, but we need light and easy food, okay?”

For all he nods, Chayanne seems to misunderstand. There is some simple stuff, yes, but a flurry of activity and complicated dishes too. Tallulah arranges them on the plate with extreme focus, and Cellbit…

Cellbit takes the two adults, and uses the stove.

Quietly, while the children are occupied, he explains what he knows. They listen, Missa frets, and Fit’s face is grim.

“I want to check with him first,” Fit looks at Missa, who gives him a nod. “But I think I know what bullshit he got himself into.”

“You do?” Cellbit asks.

Fit shrugs, looks uncomfortable. “He was scared, thought he was being threatened… We’ll explain later.”

And that’s the sort of shit Cellbit could have done with knowing before this shit happened. He’d like to strange someone, but he knows why he wasn’t told; Purgatory was… rough, to say the least.

“We didn’t tell anyone,” Missa adds, in Spanish, Fit glancing at his wrist to read the translations. “Fit only knows because it started when I was gone and the kids were missing.”

Cellbit doesn’t feel much better - the egg cracks with a little too much force, and he imagines it’s a skull.

It takes a little while for breakfast to be ready, and Cellbit hopes it gave Roier enough time. He warns the children their father is probably hurting, so be gentle, and also his mouth and hands hurt so he may not say much.

They consider him with far too much seriousness for their age; Tallulah writes a sign for them both, simply reading ‘I know’.

He leads them back through. Philza is holding some gauze to his lip, curled up in the corner of the sofa and watching the room. Roier sits on the other corner, sword clearly in grabbing range even as he tries to keep up low and playful chatter. It goes quiet when everyone else enters.

Chayanne and Tallulah move first, running to their father’s side. Neither of them touch him, though, waiting for the quiet ‘hello’ spoken in a deeply hoarse voice, and for Philza to offer them each a hand. Missa follows, taking the middle spot on the sofa. He hesitates, barely risking moving, but Philza leans his head on his shoulder and so Missa snakes an arm behind his back.

Every one of the four of them is either carrying or wearing a rose. Now he looks, Fit has one too.

“Was it him?” Fit asks, sitting heavily on a chair opposite.

Philza nods.

“Well, fuck,” Fit sighs, and looks around. “I’m gonna guess you need stuff for void-sickness? Anything else I should ask Pac e Mike for?”

And of course Tazercraft are the obvious people to ask. Scientists with a habit of breaking reality have likely seen this before.

“Antibiotics,” Roier adds. “For preventing infection in wounds dirty for too long? And painkillers.”

Philza gives him a withering glare at painkillers, but his hands are busy with his children and even if his lips are now free, it must /hurt/.

Chayanne distracts him by placing a huge amount of food both on his lap, and the floor all around. Missa laughs and Philza looks fond, but shakes his head softly. Missa takes one of the broths, though, and offers it to him.

Despite having his mouth free, Philza still reaches for a straw.

And Cellbit, Cellbit wants answers, but Fit is texting his boyfriend who Cellbit hopes has Richarlyson, so there’s not really anyone to ask.

Roier pulls a silly face at him.

Cellbit likes to think he’s above pulling one back, but whatever he does, Roier laughs anyway.

But, he does have breakfast for everyone else, so he hands it around and drinks his coffee and waits impatiently patiently for the family to quietly sort themselves out.

Eventually, Philza looks at Cellbit, mouthing ‘thank you’ and then, “I… you want to know?”

“Yes.”

Philza looks at Missa, then Fit - both of them nod.

“Fit,” Missa says. “Can you? I am not sure all of how to say it in English.”

Fit sighs again, puts his communicator away, and nods.

“What do you know of the Ender King?” He asks.

It’s a name that Cellbit has never heard before, but ideas are already forming; Roier is also shaking his head, a shrug on his arms and confusion in his eyes.

“Right,” Fit pulls a series of faces. “Now, I don’t know a lot. But, couple of months ago, Phil called me over to his house. It’s happened a few times - seeing messages and structural changes in the bunker I couldn’t see. One time Pac was with me, and he was just weirded out-”

Philza butts in, with a quiet, “it was Rose.”

“Rose?”

Philza nods, Chayanne slams down a sign.

‘She looks after us!’ the boy writes. ‘All of our familia.’

“She’s a goddess,” Missa adds, slowly, clearly thinking about his words. “But her powers are weak here… She looks after four, King only wants one.”

Tallulah adds ‘it’s why the bad things can’t find us’, and Cellbit isn’t quite sure which bad things Tallulah means, but it has to mean something.

Eye workers, maybe.

The idea of a goddess protecting a family is… Not exactly strange to Cellbit; he’s dabbled in the occult enough to know what sort of entities would do that, at least.

“She’s my,” Philza coughs, harsh, his throat not really ready for talking. “Spawn goddess. Where I come from.”

That’s stranger, but explains why she might like that.

“Right,” Fit says. “That one turned out to be less a problem, but the one that followed… When I went over Philza was in the middle of a panic attack, only not crying because Chayanne and Tallulah were there. He said a being from his dreams had contacted him, one more powerful than anything, against which there’s nothing we can ever do. Something about a war, and wanting Phil for himself. Phil made me promise to look after the kids if he was taken, that he’d find some way back but we were /not/ to go after him.”

And they listened? Cellbit is mostly surprised that they listened, but then Philza and his friends are more practical sorts than himself and Roier.

“There were more letters,” Missa says. “He started… corrupting Rose’s letters? Because he couldn’t find Philza.”

“And then he found you.” Cellbit finishes.

And it’s not the whole story, he knows it isn’t the whole story, but he’s got enough for the themes - a being which calls itself a god wants Philza for some reason is hunting him. That being comes from wherever Philza was before here, and has plans for him. Perhaps he is trapped as a pawn in a war between the gods and a war prisoner you are trying to sell makes sense for his treatment.

Perhaps he did something to piss off the god.

“My memory is,” Philza gestures to his head, and Cellbit knows the amnesia affecting many islanders touched him too, so he nods. “I don’t remember but…”

There’s a sign, turned to Philza where Cellbit cannot see.

Philza’s face shifts, and softens, and he reaches out for his children again as he says “I promised, didn’t I?”

“Does he have weaknesses,” Roier asks. “Everything has weaknesses!”

Philza laughs, bitter and dry. It turns into another coughing fit, one that leaves him shaking and leaning on Missa for support.

Cellbit notes Fit texting again, and has his suspicions as to what it says.

Once Philza recovers, he says, “the Ender King is fucking dead, mate. Water burnt him, but now he has no body… He’s weaker, can’t steal entire cities anymore, but he lost his weaknesses to.”

Worse than a god, it is the ghost of a god.

Has no body, though?

Cellbit looks at Philza again, and wonders - the void sickness has clearly done more to his mind than his body, and a deity of the End could likely manipulate it. If it had left him a functional body but empty mental shell…

War prisoner or flesh suit, either way Cellbit needs to work out how to kill a god’s ghost.

[Notes - void sickness. I’ve not really developed it but tldr overworld bodies are not well adapted to other realms. Too long in the void (also the End, where the atmosphere is void) fucks you up. Purple rash-like staining across skin, purple tint getting into your eyes. Common symptoms include dissociation, derealisation, and a susceptibility to the cold. If it reaches organs it can cause them to shut down, though always works from the outside in (or if caused by eating too much chorus fruit, which is an option, from your digestive tract out). The comment about Philza’s lips or throat with not speaking is if the taint had reached either his voice box or the muscles controlling his lips. Philza’s actually pretty fucking resistant to it, by a combination of genetics and very slowly increasing his exposure over time. Most people would be dead from that long, he’s just… It’s deep enough to cause muscle weakness in places, but it isn’t yet deep enough to cause damage like ‘lungs cease functioning’. The ‘bonus’ of his mouth sewn shut is they couldn’t feed him end-food, so it was only working out-in not in-out. Much like with fairies if you eat of the end bad shit happens.]