#and THAT got me thinking about a two parter from strange horizons

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

love an eccentric wizard and their nonmagical apprentice. you love to see it

[im-a-star-boy]

Chrysopoeia (Part 1)

eyyyyyy 2 parter,,, nether fun with a side of angst,,,,,

@panna-pan @princeboo do yall still want me tagging you when I post this AU or should I stop?

TW: Panic attacks

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Summary: They haven’t been to the Nether since they left the SMP, but they can’t put it off forever.

Word Count: 1,700

Date of Completion: Saturday, January 16th, 2021

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Tommy cast an anxious look to Tubbo and Ranboo, who were chatting quietly between themselves. “Is this a good idea?”

The two looked up at Tommy’s voice. Tubbo glanced back to the cave and made an unsure noise. “I mean, we gotta at some point, we’ve been here for two months. And… and we need quartz.”

Tommy looked down for a minute before returning his gaze to the cave. “Okay…”

The three bore their armor, enchanted iron with gold boots, and made their way down. The walk was quiet and tense as the stone slowly shifted into netherrack, patches of gravel shifted soul sand, there were small patches of blackstone and nether wart growing around, crimson vines hung from the ceiling, their sharp thorns dangling hazardously. Something in Tommy’s gut twinged as they approached the nether portal. 

The three had found it a few days before from a zombified piglin exiting the cave, an active nether portal that they hadn’t built. The nether had seemed to seep into the cave, converting natural minerals into the nether materials. It was built in the same style as the old ruined portals, but it wasn’t ruined, and it was still active. Some of the obsidian had begun to crack and weep, but not enough to offset the portal as the dark purple continued to swirl and whisper. The portal was protected by the cave, surrounded on all sides by stone supports. On the top of the portal, two gold blocks still glimmered, unwavered and untouched by the elements. 

They didn’t know who built the portal or how long it had been there, just that it was there. Tubbo shifted in his spot in front of the portal. None of them had been to the Nether since they left the SMP, and the idea of going back put them on edge. “You got the gold?” Tommy asked.

Ranboo nodded and lifted up the bag. “Yep,”

“Everyone have their tools and armor?”

Tubbo and Ranboo nodded and murmured softly in agreement. Tommy took a deep breath and led the way. “Then in we go,”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The Nether hadn’t changed much. It was still hot, it was still dangerous, and it was still quiet, so, so very quiet.

Sure, there were sounds, but not enough in Tubbo’s opinion. The sound of fire crackling, lava bubbling from a lavafall nearby, the distant sound of a ghast crying, the sounds of piglins, or maybe hoglins, snorting somewhere. These sounds would break the silence every few minutes, but it was never enough to calm his nerves. Tubbo hated the Nether silence.

It wasn't like the Overworld silence, the sliver of time where the crickets would stop chirping, where the nocturnal animals would find their resting place, where the brooks and streams seemed to stop, if only for a moment, as the sun rose. It wasn't the peaceful moment of calm where everything in the world slept, everything but him at least. When the sun would break the horizon, the birds would take the place of the crickets and their cows and horses and chickens would wake and begin their day. The moment would be over. 

The Overworld silence was peaceful, momentary, and calm. The Nether silence was deafening, a threat, a reminder that few creatures lived here, that few creatures ever could even survive here. He could count all the truly living mobs here on one hand, and still would have less than ten if he counted the undead mobs. 

The portal had led them to a crimson forest. Tommy half expected to come through to the Nether hub, to see the bridges to his exile and to Techno’s house, to the floor from where the portal formed precariously over a lava lake, but no. It was untouched, overgrown, and empty. 

The portal was built into a wall on the edge of the crimson forest, the same stone brick framing around it keeping it stable, and the same cracks of obsidian that wept the strange purple fluid. The gold that typically decorated the structures was missing. A zombie piglin spared them an uninterested glance as they stepped through and examined the terrain.  

Tommy was quick to step forward and loot the chest that accompanied the ruins. There was a flint and steel, two fire charges, a clock, a few iron nuggets, and a helmet.

Tommy pulled out the helmet and examined it for a moment before returning it to the chest. Tubbo stepped forward, swallowing thickly. “Come on, let’s build a quick base here.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “A base? Why?”

“A place to store our stuff, it doesn’t hurt to have some emergency supplies here.”

“I’m with Tubbo, it doesn’t have to be complex, just something safe if we need to bunker down.” Ranboo piped in.

Tommy looked between the two and sighed. “Alright, fine, whatever, let’s build a base.”

Tubbo grinned. “Can you chop down some trees?”

Tommy didn’t reply, just grabbed his axe and stepped forward. “You two pick a spot, I’ll start there.”

Tubbo nodded and began searching. A little ways off from the portal, there was a nice flat area. “Over here!” He called.

Tommy stepped forward and began chopping the trees down, taking down the nether wart blocks that were like leaves to the tree. Once a good area was cleared, he handed materials off. Tubbo glanced at the materials and back to Tommy for a moment before smiling. “Tommy, why don’t you carve out a pathway? We can make it with red nether bricks, but we’ll need the netherrack to make them.”

Tommy straightened up a bit, his eyes brightening slightly at the idea of building a path. “Oh so now you’re making me do all the shitty work?”

Despite his snippy reply, Tubbo could see his excitement as he already began digging. Ranboo chuckled as Tommy got to work, looking eager with his job. 

The three had worked quickly, Tommy had carved out a path, chopping down trees as he went, and had set all the netherrack to smelt into bricks, letting Ranboo combine them into red nether bricks and then into slabs. He frequently would get sidetracked in cutting down trees and chopping the thorny crimson vines that dangled dangerously. He was quick in placing the slabs, looking immensely pleased with his work. 

As he placed the final slabs, he paused when his communicator pinged. He grabbed it, expecting a message from Tubbo, but froze when he saw the message. Niki says: Hey, Tommy. I know you’re… gone… but I need to apologize one last time. I’m sorry this happened to you, I’m sorry you have to pay for our mistakes, and I wish things could’ve ended differently. You didn’t deserve to die for our causes.

Niki says: You, Tubbo, and Ranboo were just children, and we chased you away. You died for a cause that didn’t last and I’m sorry we put you through that. I wish you three the best in whatever afterlife exists, and I hope you can find it in you to forgive us.

Tommy reread the message over and over. Niki had always been one to give speeches to the dead, but one to him? They thought he was dead?

His stomach churned as he read it again. He hadn’t even realized his breathing was picking up, or that his vision was blurring, or that it was suddenly too hot, too cramped, he can’t breathe he’s dying I’m dying I’m dying I can’t breathe I’m dying- Dream help please Dream I’m sorry-

There was a hand on his shoulder. “Tommy, deep breaths Tommy,” A gentle voice encouraged.

Tommy looked up, tears blurring his vision. When had he sat down? “Tommy, follow my breathing, okay? It’s okay, you’re okay,”

Tommy sucked in a shuddery breath and felt his hand get guided to someone’s chest. He could feel the expansion and collapse of their lungs and attempted to follow along. He took deep, shaky breaths. “Tubbo?” 

The brunet smiled. “Hey, Tommy.” 

Tommy took a slow breath, looking uncertain as he gathered his surroundings again. “Oh,”

Tubbo nodded gently. “You had a bit of a panic attack there, Big Man.” Tommy avoided his gaze, repeating, “Oh,” a bit softer. 

Tubbo’s gaze softened. “What happened?”

Tommy shakily pointed to his communicator, which he had dropped during his panic attack. Tubbo glanced over to it and Ranboo, who was watching worriedly from behind him, grabbed it, handing it to the brunet. He looked up at Tommy, getting his permission, before turning it on and seeing the message from Niki. His gaze hardened as he read the message before shutting it off. “Ranboo and I just got a similar message,” He hummed, setting the communicator aside for the meantime. “On the bright side, if they think we’re dead, they won’t come looking for us.”

Tommy avoided his gaze. “Why are they just now apologizing? After they think we’re fucking dead, that’s when they choose to apologize?!”

Tubbo nodded gently. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid, isn’t it?”

Ranboo shrugged. “I mean, at least they’re trying, I guess.”

“Trying a bit too fucking late!”

Ranboo flinched back at his yell and Tommy quieted, curling in on himself. “I’m sorry, Big Man, I’m sorry.”

The Enderman hybrid’s gaze softened as he met his eyes. “It’s okay, Tommy. You have a right to be angry. They shouldn’t have waited until we ‘died’ to apologize.”

Tommy nodded weakly in agreement, still looking beat. Tubbo stood up and offered down his hand. “Wanna head home? We’ve made a lot of progress and I say we deserve a break.”

The blond nodded again. “Yeah, I could use some water and a nap.”

The other two nodded. “We’ve made pretty good progress on the base I’d say, it’s pretty and functional!”

Tommy grinned. “Oh yeah? We’re making headway, bitch! Soon enough we’ll have netherite again!”

Tubbo pumped his fist happily. “Yeah!”

Ranboo grinned at the two. “Wooo! Blowing up the nether with beds!”

Tommy let out a strained but genuine laugh. “Hell yeah!”

The three walked back through the portal, seeming a bit more eased about the situation.

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You: Epilogue

Read on Ao3

Ladybug could feel the ribbons in her hair fluttering as she gazed out over the city, alone for once. The buildings glittered in the setting sun. Its rays were warm on her face, and for a moment, she just closed her eyes and breathed it in.

The first time she’d transformed, she’d been afraid the Miraculous would somehow reject her as its holder, her betrayal still lingering in its magic.

Except the opposite seemed to have happened.

Rather than punish her, the Miraculous had welcomed her back with joy she could feel in her bones - and an upgraded suit. Unlike before, when it had been simple and spotted, it now sported solid black legs to her mid thigh and a solid and matching torso. Her hair, too, was now pulled back into a pony tail, longer than her civilian self - all reminders, she thought, of the girl who’d enabled her to wear the suit again at all. 

“You look happy,” she heard her partner say seconds before he dropped onto the roof beside her. “Thinking of me?”

“It’s good to be back,” Ladybug said simply, cracking an eye to glance side-long at her partner with a grin. 

“Good to have you back,” Chat Noir said, leaning on his baton like it was a fancy walking stick. His eyes softened. “Are you ready for this?”

Ladybug sighed, the moment over. “Yes. No? It feels so strange. I kept my identity a secret for so long. The crazy things I did… To have it all out in the open, sort of, is…”

“Oh, I bet,” he said, raising a brow in amusement. “I still want to hear about those crazy things, you know. I have a feeling the calls were closer than I ever imagined.”

“We’ve got time,” Ladybug said lightly, but inside, her heart had begun to pound, a newfound experience she didn’t entirely enjoy. She was used to her crush on Adrien. She had even gotten used to her feelings for Chat Noir. But together, as one person? Her partner was lethal. The idea of spending any amount of extended time alone sent her into acute cardiac arrest.

“Yo!”

Ladybug had never been so happy to be interrupted in her life. 

The two of them turned as Rena Rouge and Carapace dropped onto roof with them. They stopped a few feet away, Rena squinting at Ladybug’s face as though only seeing her for the first time.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” she said softly.

Ladybug took a deep breath, subtly straightening her spine. Why was this so much scarier than any akuma attack ever had been? 

“It’s really me,” Ladybug admitted. It was the closest she could get. She’d get reakumatized before she said her own name from behind the mask.

For a moment, her friend said nothing. Ladybug could just imagine what she was thinking. All the secrets, all the lies, all the manipulation. Was she any better than Lila? Was she a hypocrite? Didn’t she trust her at all?

But then Ladybug was reeling as Rena Rouge enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug, at once familiar and strange with the competing Miraculous. “You are so amazing,” Rena whispered. “So incredibly, awesomely amazing. I’m so sorry you had to do this alone for so long.”

“Not entirely alone,” Ladybug murmured back, glimpsing Chat Noir over her friend’s shoulder as he chatted with Carapace. Giving them their space. He always knew exactly what she needed. How did he do that? How had she never noticed before?

“Talk about coincidence,” Rena said, finally releasing her. “We have some catching up to do.”

“How about a sleepover tonight?” Ladybug suggested.

“Done, girl,” Rena said. “I can’t wait to hear it all.”

And for once, Ladybug was looking forward to telling it all. Hiding her other life had caused a strain on their relationship she’d been unable to fully understand. It wasn’t just the lying, but the secrets, the things she had no way of knowing, the thing about herself she’d hidden away. Anxiety made her palms tingle; what if her friend liked who she thought she was more than who she actually was?

“Late as usual,” Chat Noir muttered loud enough to interrupt Ladybug’s runaway train of thought. She took the opportunity to scan the horizon once more.

“Maybe that errand is taking a little longer than we expected,” Ladybug said.

Chat Noir snorted, a sound so unexpected now that she knew who was behind the mask Ladybug had to bite her lip and turn her face to keep laughter from spilling out. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Quit whining,” another voice cut in. “We’re here.”

The four of them spun to the southern edge of the roof where Felix, borrowing the horse Miraculous, and Chloe, sporting the bee Miraculous once again, had appeared. Both were scowling, though the latter was staring pointedly at the roof, her arms crossed as though she’d rather be anywhere else.

Ladybug held her breath as she took in her one-time rival. She looked…the same. No scar marked her as having sacrificed anything for anyone, the loss invisible to the naked eye. She knew it didn’t hurt, not physically, but that confusion, that feeling of uncertainty haunted you. It was something she would never be able to repay. Chat Noir had told her he’d tried to tell Chloe about her missing memories, but they’d disappeared again over night. She knew the truth of that experience as well. The magic of the Miracle box simply would not allow one to have what it had taken away.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Rena quipped, but it lacked the usual bite. She, too, was regarding Chloe with a softness Ladybug had never seen directed at her before. 

“Well, he practically begged,” Chloe sniffed, her gaze darting up to them at last. “Plus he brought this with him, so how could I say no?” She fingered the Miraculous in her hair like she couldn’t quite believe she had it back. 

“Thanks for coming then,” Ladybug said, letting the attitude slide. It was the same old Chloe, but different, like she could see through the bravado now to the scared, lonely little girl underneath who was desperate to make friends but wasn’t sure how.

“Want to tell me what this is all about?” Felix asked. “I have places to be, you know.”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” Chat Noir said with a sweeping bow. “We’d be delighted to get started to accommodate your busy schedule.”

“As of last week, every thing’s changed,” Ladybug said, interrupting what she was sure would turn into a Miraculous-powered smack down. As she spoke, her teammates visibly relaxed. “Some of us had our identities revealed previously to the confrontation with Hawkmoth. Some of us did not.” She didn’t miss Chloe’s wince, but the words held no malice. “Therein lies additional risk, but risk has always gone hand in hand with being one of Paris’s protectors. The previous guardian had rules about identities. They only hurt this team. Chat Noir and I are the guardians now; we have different rules. We know who you are, and you know us. I won’t force any one to hold, or to keep a Miraculous, but if you want it…it’s yours. Some of you have gone public with your identities. Some of you may have your identities discovered during the course of the next few months. This is no longer grounds for losing your Miraculous. Accidents happen. Mistakes happen… Fate happens. A Miraculous may be returned at any time, no questions asked. We understand the toll it takes to wear one. But what Chat Noir and I are asking now is for your aid in the fight against Hawkmoth and his henchmen.”

“He’s getting stronger,” Chat Noir chimed in. “We don’t know how, but the akumas he’s creating… well, you’ve seen them. He’s angry, and for him, it’s personal. He’ll <em>make</em> it personal. Your family, your friends, it’s all at risk. But…”

“The choice is yours,” Ladybug said, splaying her hands. “Chat Noir and I will be making the rounds tonight to offer everyone the same thing, but you four are the ones who got us this far. I wouldn’t be standing here without you, and…” She glanced at her parter to find he was already looking at her, an encouraging smile on his face. “We can’t save the world without you.”

For a moment, they all glanced solemnly at each other, the weight of the city finally shared between them. Then Felix snorted.

“And I thought I was prone to dramatics,” he said, but genuine warmth sparkled in his eyes. “Though I doubt you’d be able to manage without me. I’m in.”

“Ditto,” Carapace said with a grin, exchanging a fist bump with Chat Noir.

“You know it!” Rena squealed, enveloping Ladybug in another hug. “This is like, a dream come true!”

“You’re sure?” Ladybug whispered, hugging her friend back.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” Rena insisted. “I won’t let you down.”

“You never could.”

But Ladybug stiffened as she suddenly beheld Chloe over her friend’s shoulder. She wasn’t looking at them, instead choosing to stare at the roof, scuffing it with her shoe. War raged on her face.

“Be right back,” Ladybug said. Rena followed her gaze but didn’t say anything, merely offering a half-hearted smile, a silent wish for good luck before she turned to the boys.

“I thought you’d be happier,” Ladybug said softly as she came to a stop a few feet away from her one-time nemesis. 

“What’s there to be happy <em>about?</em>” Chloe demanded. Those deep blue eyes flashed up to meet hers, but dropped again almost instantly. “This city doesn’t want me as its protector. It never has, especially when it already had you, and despite the pretty speech, you can’t want me here, either.” She fingered the hair clip again as though she might just pull it off then and there, but she hesitated. “I don’t…I don’t deserve this.”

A thousand responses roared up in Ladybug, backed by guilt, but she reached for the only thing that mattered. “Do <em>you</em> want to be here?”

Tears welled up in Chloe’s eyes, but she blinked them away before they could fall. “<em>Yes</em>.” Her voice throbbed on the word and she quickly bit her lip before more words spilled out. It didn’t matter. Ladybug could read everything in it; the pain, the confusion, the shame, the desperation - the tentative happiness, the fierceness. The hope. 

“I meant what I said,” Ladybug murmured, daring to reach out and put a hand on the other girls’ shoulder. “We can’t save the world without you. More importantly, I don’t want to. You’re right - we do have history. But neither of us are the same girls we were back then. So much has changed. I’ve changed. And…I like to think you’ve changed a little, too.”

Chloe finally smiled, a half-hearted grin that faded almost as quickly as it had come. “That’s true,” she said. “The girl I thought you were would never have had it in her to be Ladybug.”

“Between you and me, I didn’t think I had it in me, either,” Ladybug admitted with a half-smile of her own. “I almost gave it up, right at the beginning there. Tikki convinced me to try again.”

“Tikki…” Chloe frowned at the name, confusion flickering in her eyes. Her hand went to her hair comb for a third time, but then slipped to her bare ears. Hope burst though Ladybug. She’d been right; Chloe’s memories <em>were</em> still there. But the look in Chloe’s eyes faded, blurring as the magic took hold, supplying a plausible answer to the question she’d only begun to form. “Huh. Some would say it’s impossible to improve on perfection, but I suppose if anyone could do it, it would be a Bourgeois.”

And despite the grim truth of the Miraculous magic she could see at work, Ladybug laughed. The comment was so like something Chat Noir would say she couldn’t do anything else. The two of them were going to be a handful. 

“So are you in, then?” Ladybug extended a hand, palm up towards the girl that had given her her life back.

Chloe finally looked up, meeting Ladybug’s gaze and holding it for the first time since she’d arrived. She placed her hand in Ladybug’s, hope blazing in her face.

“Yes,” she said, taking a step forward to where everyone else was waiting - towards the future. “I am.”

[shitposting-extraordinaire]

College was a terrible time for me. And Animal Crossing was my savior. Throughout all the turmoil, it gave me this cozy reprieve from the madness.

As with any open-ended game of the sort, I made a project for myself. Making a story town for the dream suite - not a horror town, as many people try, a mystery. And reexploring my town after so long yielded so many details I’d totally forgotten, and some that still rang clear as day. And now that everyone's moved on from New Leaf, I think it would be fun to explore that old story.

So if you’re in for a long story about a forgotten passion project, click read below.

(Dream code is, sadly, now inactive)

For atmosphere, I suggest you listen to the town theme that would have been playing when you visited. The dream-town was accessed at 1am, so this song below would be playing softly over the tragic town of Opalvale. As this was early april, I invite you to imagine the cherry blossom petals that would slowly drift across the whole town.

My town was lovingly landscaped - and coated in flowers. This is what you’d open up to, with the two empty spaces being where the dream suite bed would lie. If you put on the four pieces of clothes provided, you’d get...

...your first hint something was up. Because most of the town was very traditionally pretty. With this being early April, the cherry blossoms would be in full bloom.

And some decidedly not so cute details.

Unsure if dream sutie villagers could tell you what nicknames they called the player, I had all of my villagers call my character “murderer.” But let’s get into the story proper. Not with the main character herself, but the house closest to where you would start. That would be the church.

One of three humans, Joan was the priestess of the village. If spoken to, she’d say, “Stay safe, my child.”

Inside was a traditional church setup, with pipe organs, mannequins as parishoners, and a few side rooms with no relevance to the plot.

But if you creeped behind the pipe organ, you could find a secluded room extremely relevant to the plot.

A memorial of some kind is in session. Black flowers for mourning surrounded by votive candles and offerings. The markings on the wall read “Tu Fui Ego Eris,” a traditional epitath. K.K. Lullaby tinks away on the gramophone, griddled with static reflecting the time passed. And in the middle, in a pure white frame is a photo of the villager Whitney. If you lingered enough, the lullaby would play a series of strange, disorienting triangle waves right at the end.

This would not be Whitney’s last appearance.

If you head up to Joan’s bedroom, there was one more detail - a map on her wall with a red X.

All that remains of this house is a basement room of no import. But related to the memorial room, at the top left corner of the town...

A small graveyard, with four graves, surrounded by fresh flowers. Three graves bear perfect fruit trees, and if you dig into the spot;

A grim detail. If you dig into the spot below the dead tree, where there is no gravestone, however;

A hat that, if worn, is revealed to be just a skull. Whitney’s presumably. But Whitney’s house is gone, she not among the villagers, you cannot investigate her house. But of the remaining two, one house is much closer.

Regina, the blue-haired DJ, and her home is full of details pertaining to Whitney.

The main room is a concert venue, with shirts on display showing various villagers at instruments. The mannequin is clearly Regina, but who are the other five shirts?

Most of the house is simply other rooms in the concert hall.

The basement is especially irrelevant, but looks neat.

The backroom, however;

This appears to be a writing room, with the whiteboard, some instruments around. There are four cushions around the room, meant to resemble documents. A fifth hangs on the wall, with the same pattern as the cushions;

“ＷＨＩＴ． ＰＡＹＯＵＴ“

Five insurance payouts, all in the band room. A band shown to have six members. And if you look at the photo in the memorial chamber, you can see Whitney is wearing a specific shirt that’s on display.

Whitney was on second guitar. Regina got one payout, leaving four to the other band members. To identify them, though, we’ll have to go to the final house.

This is Exie, and if you speak to her, she says in letters affected with accent marks and random capitalization, “I’m nOT aLloWEd tO sPeaK...” This is the village who, if the animals talk, will refer to as “murderer.”

Like her home exterior and outfit, Exie’s foyer is pontzy and extravegant. Exie’s home is the most interesting of the three for many reasons. The backroom is strikingly out of place.

To the right is a bar with melancholy music, to drown her woes.

And to the left, a study. If you rotate the camera, there’s a similar payout on the desk, only this one has been denied - by the killer, not allowed to talk.

Or is she?

The basement is barren, but most of the furniture inside is directly from Whitney’s default house design. Only now, there is money scattered around - wealth from both Whitney and Exie, presumably - as well as swords and skeletal models, foreboding symbols both. The fireplace crackles like static - perhaps it’s simply a memory for Exie? A look into her mind? And in her mind there are three mannequins.

One wears all the same clothes as Exie. One bears a wolf hood, Whitneys shirt, and white pants. Above these two is a scrolling sign with a heart pattern. Past lovers, now forever parter.

Curiously, there’s a third person in the room, wearing two things. A heart shirt - an unrequitted lover? - and an ever foreboding skull hood.

Exie loved Whitney. Someone else loved - Whether they loved Whitney and were furious as her lack of interest, or if they loved Exie and wanted Whitney gone, who can say. But it appears there was a third party in this crime. Despite the public opinion and denied life insurance payout, Exie was innocent. Perhaps the trauma led her to obsess over another - hence the shrine to Kevin - as a coping mechanism?

Upstairs in their twin bedroom is a chorus of singing lullaboids. And as you noticed, there’s tons of villager pictures around the room.

Using these pictures, you can see everyone’s default outfit, and figure out the rest of the band members who got insurance payouts.

Fang the wolf appears to be the vocalist. Klaus the bear was singer and lead guitar. Whitney on second guitar, Benjamin the dog on bass, Freckles the duck on drums, and Regina as a dj. Could one of them be the unrequited lover? A person furious at Whitney who also stood to gain financially?

Much of the town exterior is simply pretty. This extends to a well kept beach, with a curious arrangement of trees.

The same arrangement, in fact, as the map on the wall of the priestess’s room. If you dig in the hidden dig spot, you get;

...A secret of little relevance. Although, this can help in one small way. The graveyard is in the upper left corner of the town, bordering a small patch of land.

Barely a sliver of beach is inaccesable without a wetsuit, and from the cliff face you can see something has been buried. This is the only spot left in the town.

An outfuit, buried so long it’s gone to rot, a skeleton, and an axe. The skull without a body in the graveyard was disposed of here. You have discovered Whitney’s corpse, buried where no one could find it... save the preacher, who seems only tangential to the case.

If you noticed, there are five dig spots, one hidden behind the tree. The final clue, something left by the murderer... perhaps accidentally.

A single pink feather, small enough the killer missed it.

There is only one bird villager. A pink bird, in fact, who was a member of the band. Freckles, the pink bird who lives closest to the cemetary and body dump. The same color as the pink shirt representing the unrequitted lover. Who would have matched perfectly with the bright pink diving suit buried.

What happened exactly is meant to be for the player’s imagination. Freckles is the likeliest killer. But what of Joan? She knew the location of the diving suit buried. Did she simply bury it herself, perhaps at Freckles order? Or was the feather left to incriminate her?

Either way, the picture is far clearer than the simple idea that Exie killed her. Freckles and likely Priestess Joan were in some way involved.

Such is the story of Opalvale. What became of the band and it’s members, who can say. But the player, as the detective, has found the most important clues to the truth. The player can put the story to an end.

I don’t type this all because I’m boasting about a project I did years and years ago. It’s because this is a time capsule for me.

In the midsts of the lowest point of my life, New Leaf gave me sanity. To go back and discover this town was to discover that, at this point in my life, I still had a creative drive drilling away at my mind. Even in the mists of despair, I crafted a surprisingly intricate story in a game that was in no way made to house tales of murder and intrigue.

I share this as a thank you to the me of the past, who felt he had nothing to live for. This is a thank you to the me who found it in his heart to love this silly game and all his villagers, even as he swirled into chaos.

Even now, when I need a background town name in writing, I usually go for Opalvale. Perhaps with New Horizons, I’ll do something similar.

But that night is over. Opalvale will forever be the past. May the future be bright... and similarly decorated with wistful new Animal Crossing memories.

[misc-headcanons]

1st Place Prize: NS.FW Scenario (Law/Reader) 1/2

For @hyakira, a scenario involving Law and a rival/enemy Reader stranded on an island together. I decided to make it a two-parter: this one is the setup, and the next piece will be the smut! 

Like love, an intense rivalry can make you do some stupid things. You and Trafalgar Law had been taking shots at each other’s ships one minute when an intense storm had flown both of you wildly off course. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to beat the bastard once and for all, you had ordered your crew to pursue the Polar Tang before they managed to escape underwater. Your second-in-command pleaded for you to reconsider. “We need to focus on escaping, Captain! We’ll find another way to track him down, but–”

“Fine,” you snapped, catching one of your other crew members as they slid across the rocking ship; they were a hair’s breadth away from falling over the side of the deck and into the icy waters below when you reached over and yanked them back behind the banister. You angrily shoved him and your second-in-command in one of the indoor cabins before rushing to your quarters, your hand clenching around your sword’s scabbard. “I’ll just go after him myself.”

Inside a hidden compartment under the floorboards was one of your secret weapons–a small but sturdy Waver originally made in Skypiea, perfect for solo missions. You still couldn’t believe you’d managed to steal it from Mad Monk Urouge and survive after encountering his crew a few months back. It was worth it though, especially in times like these. You dragged the Waver out of its hidden compartment and onto the deck of the ship. The torrential rain immediately soaked through your clothes and chilled you to the bone, but the sight of the Heart Pirates’ Jolly Roger caught your eye and lit your chest on fire; he was not getting away this time.

You positioned yourself on the Waver and leaped into the sea, determined to follow the Polar Tang. It hadn’t gone underwater and it looked like the ship was headed for a nearby island that was across the horizon. As you followed behind them, a strong tidal wave launched the ship forward, tossing Law overboard. His crew quickly tried to change the ship’s course to turn back for outside to the outdoor deck to assess how stuck they were. Law’s second-in-command–a large bear Mink you vaguely remembered was named Bepo–was desperately trying to call out to his captain. Law yelled something at him as he used his Devil Fruit to switch places with random pieces of driftwood, seemingly ordering the others to get out of danger and leave him behind. Bepo reluctantly agreed, and Law found himself alone on the beach. Perfect.

You stealthily rode up to the beach, going slow enough to avoid having the Motor Dial rise over the sound of the rain to give away your presence. Once you made it onto the sand, you hid the Waver behind a few large bushes and spied on Law. He was still alone underneath a large tree, and you thought you could ambush him from behind if you were quiet enough. You made a few steps towards him when you noticed him wrapping his left arm with a spare bit of gauze kept in his jacket; he had sustained a nasty cut that stretched from his left shoulder to his chest, ending a few inches past his left pectoral muscle. Your eyes widened as you watched him wince in pain, and your fists clenched; an injury like that wouldn’t kill him, but it’d definitely impact his ability to hold a sword and fight for a while.

“Are you kidding me!?”

Law flinched at your sudden outburst and rested his hand on his sword’s handle. When he recognized your face, his grip on his sword slightly tightened. “Where’s the rest of your crew?” he demanded. “There’s no way your ship could have passed us, so you can’t have landed here before we did.”

You scowled and walked forward, crossing your arms. “The rest of my crew didn’t have the guts to follow me,” you spat. “But I’m not dying before I get a chance to beat you.”

Law rose up to face you, and blood started to seep through his gauze. “Come on then,” he replied. “Once you’re out of the way, I’ll be able to see what repairs the Polar Tang needs.”

You rolled your eyes and put a hand on your hip. “I can’t fight you now,” you replied heatedly. “Not when your arm’s injured like that. It wouldn’t be a fair win!”

Law raised an eyebrow. “That implies I wouldn’t be able to defeat you with this injury,” he replied with a slightly mocking tone. “I never struck you as the honorable type.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned and sat down under a large palm tree with a huff. “And now my crew and my ship are…God knows where they went to escape the storm. I finally get you alone and I can’t even fight you.” You sigh and run your hands through your hair. “…Aaargh!”

You toss a large rock next to you onto the sand, and it lands with a strange thump; it sounded like it had hit something hard underneath the sand. Curious, you get up and find where the rock had landed. After scooping away a few handfuls of sand, you found a large wooden crate buried under the sand. “What the hell…?”

Law followed behind you, wondering what you’d found. He assumed this island was abandoned, considering the overgrowth and brush that made up the rest of the island around them. He knelt down and peered at a few words carved into the top of the crate. “Property of the Rumrunner Pirates,” he read out loud. “Fuck prohibition and fuck the King of Drybone Island.”

You managed to open the crate and find a large number of bottles stacked inside–rum, whiskey, bourbon, beer, and a few bottles of red and white wine. “No way…” You reached inside and pulled out a bottle of bourbon to show Law. “Well, at least this hasn’t been a complete waste of time.” You dangled the bottle in front of Law, and he reluctantly took it from you. The two of you settled under another nearby palm tree and you uncorked the bottle before taking a large swig. After you wiped your chin, you handed the bottle to Law.

“After all the years you’ve spent chasing me, I’m surprised you’re fine sharing a drink with me,” Law remarked. He drank a bit and winced as he felt the liquor burn in his chest.

You laughed and took the bottle from him to have another drink. “I’m surprised you’re cringing like a choir boy having his first sip of wine,” you teased. You took a few large swigs without flinching. “Never figured a pirate like you would have such a low tolerance for alcohol.” “A pirate like me?”

“A Supernova,” you said, already feeling a bit lightheaded from the bourbon. You gestured wildly with one of your hands. “A-A captain of the Worst Generation, The Surgeon of Death! There were even some rumors I heard about you becoming a Warlord soon…” You sighed and took another drink. “I saw your wanted poster and I instantly knew that you were gonna be the next Pirate King. And I only want to fight the best.” You handed the bottle back to Law. “And now I can’t fight you, and we’re both stranded on a random island with nothing but some palm trees and a crate of booze.”

Law leaned back and took another drink. “So you only started this rivalry after seeing my poster? With how relentless you were in following me around, I would’ve thought there was more to it than that.”’ A ghost of a smile passed on his lips. “Your instincts on who’ll find the One Piece are spot on, at least.”

“Well, it was more than just that,” you said defensively. Your words were starting to slur a bit, and Law smirked. “You’re just…so…” The warmth of your cheeks from the bourbon intensified as you tried to explain why you were so fascinated with him. “Agh, I dunno how to explain it. I just wanted to fight you so I could get you off my mind for once.” You scowled at the ground. “I mean, I’m a pirate captain too. I’ve got so much shit to think about, but you’re always in the back of my head. And I figured once I fought you, it’d stop…”

Law blinked and tried to wrap his head around what you were saying. Making coherent thoughts seemed a bit more difficult, thanks to the bourbon. He found himself staring at you, watching your lips move as you talked about him. His mind started to wander. How long has she been trying to fight me? Feels like forever. And this is the longest conversation we’ve had. He saw you blush and describe how he was always on your mind and felt a strange feeling stirring in his chest. There were a few times aboard the Polar Tang where he’d have strange dreams about you, usually after the two of you clashed: you’d be fighting fiercely, he’d disarm you and grab your arm, and the two of you would stare at each other silently before he kissed you roughly. When he’d wake up, his boxers would be uncomfortably tight and he’d hastily justify the dream as being a random wet dream; nocturnal emissions were just part of being a man his age, but he wondered why they’d only ever come about after encountering you again.

Law noticed that you were still talking and tried to snap back to reality. He wasn’t used to feeling this unfocused. Maybe he had a concussion from being thrown overboard? No, he didn’t exhibit any other symptoms… He was silent as you continued talking and he took a few more swigs.

“And I know it sounds stupid, being so focused on you,” you continued. “But…The more I fought you, the more fun I was having. I was…exhilarated. Yeah, that’s the right word–exhilarated.” You giggled and reached to grab the bottle from Law. “That’s a funny word. ‘Exhilarated.’ ‘Ex-hillll-ahhh-rayyyy-teeeeed…’” You stumbled and fell forward, and Law’s dulled reflexes still managed to spur him to action; he caught your arms and the bottle fell into the sand. You two were closer than you’d ever been, even when your swords had clashed so many times before. The two of you stared silently at each other, and Law’s breath hitched–for once, this wasn’t a dream.

You bit your lip as you tried to push out the stream of lewd thoughts entering your mind; the two of you were so close. He stared up at you, trying to keep his composure as he thought of what to say. “You…” He took a deep breath. “You want me out of your system, right?”

You nodded wordlessly.

“I…I do too,” he confessed. “I keep having these dreams. About you. And–” He looked away and felt his cheeks burning. “You’re distracting. And since you’re distracted by me, it’s just logical that we…We move on from it.”

His grip on your arms relaxed, and you leaned forward slightly as your arms sank into the sand on either side of Law’s body. You shifted your hips and slowly sank down until you were resting on top of him. You leaned down and roughly kissed him, and the muffled moan that came from his lips was filling you with a warmth that definitely wasn’t from the bourbon. The two of you pulled away, panting.“Then…” You slowly lifted your shirt and tossed it into the sand. “Let’s move on.”

[beelieveinfandom]

A Better Birthright - Chapter Five

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9                          AO3 Link

The post-storm plane was a strange place. Fallen grass stocks were strewn about like bodies on a battlefield; long enough had passed that the majority of the grasses could no longer deny the reality of their own death.

Things were still. The wind was calm. The humidity had evened out to something fairly reasonable.

Despite the stillness it was impossible to miss the storm’s absence. The scattered plants were intermingled with the frozen stone replicas of their former brethren. Small amounts of ash drifted through the air from an unidentifiable source. A fine layer of crystal covered the ground, cracking and crunching when disturbed.

Plessy led Nav and Mizar with a modified compass. A few flakes of rust on the needle tip would ensure that it would always point to the sled. At least, it would under normal conditions. It was currently being difficult, skittering away from whatever direction it had been facing whenever it seemed to get a fix. Plessy was leading about as much by memory as she was with the device.

“So…” Nav said, as they passed a strange mound of crystals and greenery that smelled disturbingly meaty. “Fred. She’s got to be the Stormwaker, right?”

“What?” Mizar exclaimed. “No way. There is no way that they’re real.”

“Are you sure about that?” Nav put a hand on their hip. “Cause I have it on the great authority of a friend of a cousin's sibling-in-law that they’re definitely real.”

“Isn’t the Stormwalker supposed to be like, a twenty-foot-tall Dryad?” Mizar crossed her arms.

“I don’t think so; the Stormwalker’s definitely supposed to have horns.”

“There are horned dryads,” Mizar said, carefully walking around a pile of sharp petrified grass. “I’ve met a few. They’re great!”

“You’ve met multiple dryads?” Nav stared at her disbelievingly. “Multiple strange dryads to boot?”

“Well,” Mizar shrugged, “they do tend to live in groves, so If you run into one there are likely more around.”

“Plant things aside, Fred’s gotta be at least part of the origin of storm-parter legend.” Nav spread her arms apart. “It’s too big of a coincidence.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, feet crunching on the crystal covered ground.

“So,” Nav said, “do you think she knows?”

Plessy shook her head, smiling. “She has no idea.”

“Should we tell her?” Mizar asked.

“What, just go up to here and ask if she knows there are folk songs written about her?” Nav laughed.

“Ma'am, excuse me ma’am,” Mizar said quickly, “are you aware that you’re actually a massive dryad?”

“I can’t believe I met the Stormwalker and she’s shorter then I am,” Nav said.

“Her horns are pretty long.” Mizar pulled on a piece of bright orange ex-grass as she passed it, stretching it for almost a foot before it snapped. “I bet things started with describing her as having huge horns, and then she grew with the tale.”

“I’ll buy that.”

“So,” Mizar flipped her palms over, “what do you think’s the deal with the hand thing?”

“There’s a hand thing?” Nav asked.

You haven’t heard the hand thing?” Mizar leaned towards Nav. “There’s supposed to be like a bunch of hands that follow the Stormwalker around.”

“Follow her?” Nav scrunched their face. “As in they exist near her but are unconnected? Just wrists for days, stretching off into the void?”

“I think they’re supposed to be cut off at the wrists?” She frowned slightly. “I was never really clear on that.”

Nav crossed their arms. “That sounds incredibly fake.”

Mizar laughed. “Everything about her seems fake! Excuse me for not bothering to rank how likely each part of the ‘Massive horned parter of storms’ myth was.”

“Is that the sled?” Plessy asked.

A massive mound blocked the path ahead of them. It was easily twenty feet of mostly dirt, which presumably came from the moat-like pit that encircled it. Interspersed with the dirt was torn grass, small crystals, and the occasional limb of an unidentifiable animal. The pit was filled with a suspicious clear liquid whose fumes stung their noises and made their eyes water, even from the distance that separated it from them. The sled was stuck in the mound about two thirds down, underside strobing bright blue lights of distress. The front of it had been entirely subsumed by the mound, hard packed earth slightly cracked around its pathetic twitches.

Outside of some mild crystallization around its ancient control panel, the sled looked to be in pretty good shape. Or at least in comparable shape to before. It would, admittedly, be a pretty significant feat for the old machine to manage to get into a significantly worse condition without being cleaved in two.

Its useless twitching became frantic at their approach.

Mizar pulled her staff out of her belt pouch.

“Overkill much?” Plessy said.

“You know it! Or at least, you know it would be if I was gonna smash it. This staff’s absurdly enchanted - it wasn’t even a staff when I got it. The thing just became one because it’s what I wanted. It can absorb magic from other things, which is part of how it’s so damn effective against corruptions. Not that unlike Fred actually, just a smaller scale…”

*Nope. It has over a thousand years of enchantments on it and it’s much too small an area of effect for your purposes. Wouldn’t be able to make another one in your lifetime, either.*

She narrowed her eyes and glowered at him. “Anyway. Should be absolutely no problem to subdue the shit outta that cocky old board.”

Mizar took a few steps back and charged the moat, slamming her staff into the noxious liquid to pole vault over. With a firm yank she freed her weapon and, like a monarch conferring knighthood, bopped both of the sled’s sides with the star-shaped tip.

The sled went still.

Mizar eyed the mass of dirt that bound it to the mound and set to work freeing it. It was pretty firmly stuck, but with bit of work and some staff prying it slid out.

“So how do you work this thing, anyway?” She asked. “It’s a little bit big to throw back over.”

“On the left side there’s the control panel,” Nav shouted back.

“You mean this grid of identical and unlabeled buttons?”

“That’s the one,” Nav said. “The top left one will turn it on. After that there’s a sequence of three buttons you want to press, the first one twice -”

The sled roared to life and shot backwards, its bottom blazing bright green. Mizar barely managed to grab onto it before it raced over the moat, absconding with the priestess from its owners.

“THE POWER BUTTON,” Nav shouted. “YOU NEED TO PRESS THE - she can’t hear me anymore, can she?”

//I’m sure it will be fine. The sled is very durable.\\ Plessy was grinning. //I must say I’m impressed though, I didn’t even know it could go that fast.\\

“I know, right? What did she even do? Just, nyoomed outta town.” Nav stared after where the sled had gone. “So we should probably go after that, huh?”

//I suppose.\\

Mizar had managed to turn the sled off again fairly quickly, so catching up wasn’t much of a challenge. From there it was little effort to return it to its normal settings and go back to the others. And then they moved on.

The storm-wrecked field was still now, and full of strange monuments to the storm’s presence. The area was almost entirely dead, but the plants that had survived were enlarged, thriving, and in some cases eerily animalistic. A swarm of flies, flying in eerie synchronization, moved past. A few of the unnaturally large ones carryed those who hadn't fared the storm so well. The wreckage covered everything in view, like the whole world had been irreversibly altered in the process of a few hours.

And yet they passed through it quickly enough. Grass, normal golden stalks swaying in the wind, started sporadically appearing along the path again. Soon it was all the horizon contained, the storm’s path not even a dark blotch behind them. Birds returned to fill the air with chirps and caws, screaming out in greeting and warning. The taste of smoke on the air was replaced with that of the late flowers and the slight decay of autumn.

The seemingly endless grass became peppered with small trees. The distant mountains were starting to loom.

On one side of the road the grasses and undergrowth sharply cut off, replaced by a field of tall orange flowers. There was no currently tending the field, and no other clear signs of a settlement, but the small, dense grove of trees obscuring the road ahead could easily be blocking a town from view as well.

Barking could be heard from ahead. Most were high pitched and in quick succession from one another.

The trees all looked to be the same species and were crowned in colors. They carpeted the ground in their red and gold. Ivy with soft pink blooms clung to bark and hung down from branches. Clusters of deep purple bushes bunched against the trees, hiding shiny red berries beneath their leaves. Iridescent bees bumbled from flower to flower. They weren’t very large for bees, only a bit over an inch long.

A large puppy, about knee height, tumbled through the trees into the path in front of them, watching a bee closely. They could hear more barking in the woods behind it. Slowly the pup turned towards them, and jumped up when they caught its eye before running in a small circle yapping.

Nav stopped, gesturing at the others to stop as well.

“Isn’t that a wolf?” they asked.

“No.” Plessy answered. “They-”

Before she could finish her thought a massive wolf barreled through the undergrowth, sliding between them at the puppy. It was grey, mostly, with patches of red-brown. It wasn’t growling, but it was hunched over the pup in a very protective manner, eyeing them cautiously.

“Hello.” Mizar held her palms out passively. “We mean no harm to you or your child. We were simply following the path. May we pass?”

The wolf crouched low and growled, taking a step forward. Most of the party took a step back. Mizar reached into one of her pouches, whipped out her staff and held her ground.

The wolf started to grow, but unevenly. Its front grew out and larger and its stomach bulged out and segmented itself, becoming a brighter orange and shiny. The front legs had moved upwards as the front grew, and the rear legs were now shooting forward, leaving the creature supported by its weird stomach bulge, which finished splitting into two rows of fleshy prolegs. An extra set of legs had sprouted somewhere along the line, and rested between the other two pairs.

The whole thing took less than a minute, but it was an extremely gross and uncomfortable less than a minute.

The werewolf started laughing. With their larvaesque rear, ridged carapace, tiny vestigial wings and dual tails they could now be identified as a goblin, even if their midform was covered in fur and had a wolf head.

“Oh man, you should have seen the looks on your faces! Ya’ll really thought I was going to-” He turned to Mizar. “You’re terrifying, by the way.”

“A girl does her best.”

“I’m Swift.” He smiled. “He/him. And seriously though, it’s a good thing you ran into me first - there’s some nasty characters in these woods.”

“Really?” Fred asked.

“Oh yeah. The woods mauler. He’s this HUGE wolf who roams about, wears a coat made of the skins of everyone that he’s offed. They say that his skins hide him from anyone who shares their species. And he’s not the only one, there's also-”

“No there’s not,” said someone coming from the trees behind the goblin. They looked human, although were quite short, barely breaking four feet. Their proportions matched up with that of an adult human, not those of a dwarf. They had olive skin and wore purple robes accented in gold. “I don’t know what he was telling you but he was almost certainly lying.”

“What?” said Swift in a mockery of offense. “I would never lie about something as horrid as the Stillgrove Thrasher.”

“There is no stillgrove thrasher. Please stop trying to scare travelers.”

“Outright denial, eh?” Swift put his paws together. “That sounds exactly like something the Thrasher would say.”

“I hate you.”

The goblin dramatically gasped, covering their heart with a paw. “Such lies! And in front of children no less. I was so wrong, the Thresher would never stoop to such lows.”

A fit of giggles exploded from the pup in the road, who was lying on their back in a humanoid form.

“Hey kiddo,” Swift nudged the youngster with his foot, “what have we said about being bipedal without pants?”

“But you’re not wearing pant…”

“And I’m not bipedal. You know the rules. Less legs, more covers. You go from four legs to two legs you gotta wear pants. If you go to zero we put’cha in the sac. You go to fourteen and well…” He looked away from the kid towards the person he had been arguing with earlier. “Then you ask your bestest sister in the whole world if she brought your skirt because it’s actually pretty cold and you weren’t planning on needing vocal cords while on this outing.”

“You know one day I’m not just going to plan ahead for you without you asking me to,” she said, pulling out a large piece of cloth from her pack.

“Sure you will, Lorny dearest. Because you love me, and are the greatest sister in the world, and if you don’t I’ll just embarrass you even more.”

“Please never call me ‘Lorny’ again.” Lorn turned to newcomers. “You’ll have to excuse my brother, he’s-”

She stopped, staring at Mizar. At her staff.

“Swift, what were you doing?”

“Um.” Swift looked from Mizar to Lorn. “Is this some kinda trick question?”

“I’m…” Lorn was looking around quickly. “I’m going to go get the Bright One.”

“What’s so important that you need to get Malissa involved?”

“You would know if you would ever paid attention!” She shook her head. “And I realize the concept is foreign to you, but please try to be polite in the meantime.”

Growing wolfier by the second, Lorn dashed off into the woods.

Swift stared after her for a moment, before turning around.

“You’ll have to excuse my sister, she just… does this sometimes. Gets it in her head that something Matters and nothing can stop her.” He shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Who’s the Bright One?” Mizar asked.

“It’s a title, passed on to whoever has the strongest affinity for the beelessed instrument. She’s a pretty big figure in our pack, I guess,” Swift said. “She communes. Mostly with bees.”

“You can talk to bees?” Fred asked. “‘You’ in the general sense, that is. I wouldn’t think from that sentence that, personally, could talk to bees, although it would be pretty neat if you could.”

“Anyone can talk to bees. The hard part is getting the bees to understand what you are trying to say,” Swift said. “And it’s only sort of talking. We have a magical instrument that can be used to get basic ideas across. We’ve been using it for generations to live closely with them.”

“So if you’re using an instrument,” Fred said, “wouldn’t that mean that they can’t talk back?”

“Bees generally only really want to be able to tell other species to back off and are pretty good at doing this without any help.”

“You live closely with bees? Aren’t you worried about the kids?” Nadeau said.

“Not really.” Swift shrugged. “That’s the whole point of the instrument. Bees are only so aggressive because they don’t know our intentions and are trying to protect their hives. We can let them know that we don’t mean them any harm and they let us be as a result. We’ve also been breeding them for a while, so they’re a lot less aggressive than normal bees.”

“And the bees just trust whatever you tell them?” Nadeau asked.

“It wouldn’t be much of a spirit forged magical instrument if the bees didn’t believe it, now would it?” Swift put his middle paws on this hips. “Anyway, I don’t think bees really have a concept of lying. With most of what they use their communication skills for, any lie would be pretty quickly exposed and just waste everyone’s time. And bees are pretty intelligent but I don’t think they are quite smart enough to appreciate a good prank.”

“Considering the aforementioned lack of communication methods, that’s probably for the best,” Nav said. “I have trouble picturing bee pranks that aren’t ‘hey, let’s go sting that guy, it’ll be hilarious’.”

“I was thinking about pranks bees would play on each other. ‘Cause again, they don’t really interact with others outside of telling them to buzz off.” Swift tilted his head to the sky. “So like, one could tell the others she found some great flowers, just the perfect blooms, and when everyone goes to get them it turns out there’s just a bunch of rocks or something.”

“That seems kinda cruel.” Fred said. “I don’t think that bees would do that to each other, even if they could grasp the idea of it conceptually. I like to think that bees are full of love.”

Nadeau took a hard look at Fred. “Bees kill people.”

“Well, yeah but like Swift said, they don’t know what we are. We’re just huge lumbering things that crush their hives with our huge lumbering feet. But bees live in very close contact with each other, and I would hope that anyone living in that close of quarters really loves those they’re with, and I don’t see pranks fitting into that very well.”

“I don’t see what love has to do with not pranking.” Swift crossed his upper arms. “Maybe that wasn’t the best example in the world, but pranks don’t have to come from a place of malice. They’re just a way to have some harmless fun, and sometimes try and get someone to relax and stop treating everything like it’s of absolute importance. Not that that always works, but what can you do.”

“Who gets to say what exactly counts as harmless?” Nadeau asked.

“I mean, you gotta gauge your audience. One man's laugh is another's panic attack, and that’s no fun for anyone involved. It’s an art, and like any art it takes practice and sometimes you make a mess of things and you just gotta apologize and clean up after yourself.”

The sound of footsteps came from where Lorn had dashed off to.

Still in wolf form, she dashed back, followed by another goblin. There was no question that she was the bright one. She carried herself with exquisite posture, seeming to glide rather than walk over the ground. She had similar coloration patterns to the less wolfy parts of Swift, but she was darker and had light green spots scattered across her body, like freckles, that glowed softly in the low light of the woods. She was adorned in dark silks patterned like the night sky with golden stars. The light fabric flowed around her in the light breeze.

She looked Mizar over.

“I can see why Lorn requested my presence,” she said. “It would seem that we have an ally in common.”

“Hey, Dog Star.” Alcor popped into the physical plane. “Fancy running into you here, in this place that you live.”

“And hello to you as well, Star Cloaked One.” The Bright One bowed her head. “What brings you to our humble woods?”

“You should probably ask them that; I’m just along for the ride. It’s nice to see you again though.” He drifted closer. “The kids are looking well.”

“It is always an honor to be graced with your presence. The times have not been kind, but we have been blessed with good health.” She turned to Mizar. “You must forgive me, for it seems I have been ignoring you. I am Melissa Rex, Bright One of the Pack of Even Hands. Might I have your name?”

“I am Mizar, High Priestess of Alcor. My companions and I are simple travelers, passing through.”

“It seems you sell yourself short.” The Bright One smiled. “It strikes one as unlikely that travels with the Light in the Darkness could be described with such a word as ‘simple’.”

“There is certainly truth to your words,” Mizar conceded. “My goals are lofty and my ambition high, but I still have a long journey before I can achieve what it is I seek. In the meantime, I strive to do what I can along the way. These three are seeking a new place to spread their roots, and I am to make sure that they find it.”

The Bright one cupped her hands together. “If you would have it, I gladly offer to you the hospitality of the Pack of Even Hands.”

“Nothing could please me more than to accept. Our path has been a harsh one.”

The bright one led everyone down a well worn path through the woods. The prints of many species cut deeply into the moist soil. There were a disproportionate number of paw prints, but also humanoid, avian, equestrian, goblin, and the long treads of the legless. The tracks came in a wide array of sizes, and from the gaggle of children around them it wasn’t hard to guess why.

Mizar fell back and started talking quietly with Swift.

“So just to be clear, not everyone talks like that here, right?” she whispered.

“Nah,” he said. “Mum’s just weird.”

“She isn’t being weird!” Lorn interjected. “It makes perfect sense to default to more respectful language when dealing with a large number of unknowns. Part of her job is to maintain our relation with the Star Cloaked One, so it stands to reason that she is going to make an effort to not offend someone who bares his symbol.”

“It’s ‘cause Mum’s weird.”

*It’s ‘cause they love me.* Alcor floated incorporeal behind Mizar. *It turns out that actually honoring deals even when you aren’t magically bound to is a great way to get a dedicated following; other demons are dumb.*

“Well as long as I’m not expected to keep talking like that. I hate having to think before I say things!”

“You’re really going to leave that out in the open?” Plessy asked.

Mizar shrugged. “I’m comfortable with who I am.”

“I’ve never really understood what people meant about thinking before you speak.” Fred slowed to walk closer to them. “A lot of the things I say are because I think too much before I speak and can’t keep up with it. Talking slows me down a bit so I can understand what I’m thinking.”

“It’s less about whether or not there are thoughts so much as how much focus is put into the exact words you’re using. I like to just say things as the ideas pop up in my mind, you know?” She scrunched her face. “Wait, since when is this a group conversation?”

“You,” Plessy said, “are really bad at whispering.”

“That’s fair.”

The undergrowth opened up into a large clearing. The carpet of leaves thinned out, becoming occasional boats in a sea of dark green and purple groundcover. A small pocket of trees was in the center of the clearing, with a huge oak reaching for the edges of the town with its massive branches. Buildings made of stone and wood were scattered across the clearing, placed very haphazardly towards the center and arranged much neater along the edge of the treeline. Waist-high hexagonal structures were placed periodically along the edge of the clearing.

The village was bustling. People of every species hustled about, many turning to watch the group come in before returning to their business.

A cluster of eyes watched them unwaveringly.

A group of kids charged at them, talking all at once.

“Swift!”

“You’re back early. You said you wouldn't be back until the evening.”

“Who are they?”

“Did you get me anything?”

“Why is Mall- I mean why is the Bright One here?”

“Now, now.” The Bright One spoke out. “These are our guests. Let us give them some space.”

The children took a few steps back but still watched the group intently.

“I can’t speak for everyone, but I don’t mind.” Mizar said. “I like kids.”

“You’re really tall!” A child cried.

“Yeah I am.” Mizar grinned at the kid. “It’s great!”

“What’s it like to be tall?”

“Can I touch you?” she asked.

The kid nodded.

“It’s like this!” Mizar scooped the child up and put them on her shoulders. “Except you hit your head on things way more often.”

“Hey,” a kid whispered to Fred. “I like your horns.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “It’s nice of you to say that.”

“Are you a tree?”

“I don’t think so, no. Which might be a point in the favor of me not being a tree, because I don’t think trees think, do they?”

“Trees can think!” The child stamped their foot. “The First Mother knows everything and she’s a tree and she has big horns like you but not like you hers are more branchy and smooth but she said that there were others like her but you obviously aren’t because anyone like her would know everything including that they were a tree.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah!” They gave Fred a wide toothy grin. “I wanna be a tree when I grow up!”

Fred squinted in thought. “Is that really a thing that you can be?”

“Why not?” They crossed their arms. “I can be a wolf.”

“Not that I’m anything but a frog two skips from the swap about this sort of thing, but I think wolves are a lot more complicated than trees are, so if you can turn into a wolf it’s probably also possible to turn into a tree. Although, wolves are a lot closer inside-ways to most people then trees are, so that might make them easier to turn into? You wouldn’t have any guts anymore if you turned into a tree, which might be a problem...”

“I don’t care about any of that. I’m gonna be a tree and it’ll be great!”

Stepping away from the mob of kids, Nadeau went up to the Bright One.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she said, “why is it that there are so many children here? Unless I’m missing something the adult to kid ratio seems off.”

“Our community has a strong affinity for children, and we have the resources to take in those who are unable or unwilling to raise their own, or who walk paths unsafe for little ones. It is not uncommon for scavengers to have us watch theirs while they go on an expedition, for instance.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, I grew up rather sheltered. What is a scavenger?”

The Bright One shook her head slightly. “You have nothing to excuse, we have people from all walks of life pass through. A scavenger is one who seeks out artifacts of the ancients in the ruins they left behind. Between the physical hazards of decaying structures and the potential for corruptions, it is a dangerous path to walk, but the rewards can be of tremendous value.”

“There are enough things that still work after all this time that people are willing to risk their lives to get them?”

“Our ancestors had a unfathomable mastery of craftsmanship.” She turned her head upwards. “It is said that they shaped the Earth and sky to their liking; to manufacture a few trinkets that could last the centuries would be nothing for them.”

“Magic can really do a lot, huh?”

“Indeed it can, however little of what they left behind that still works is magic. Mechanical things are much less susceptible to corruption, and were far more likely to survive the Calamity.”

“What was the Calamity, do you know?” Nadeau asked. “Beyond just the end of the ancients.”

“I know not. You would have to ask that of the First Mother if you truly want an answer.”

“She knows?”

The Bright One nodded. “She was there for it.”

“Really? I didn’t realize it was possible for anyone to be that old.”

“As you so succinctly put it, magic can do a lot. That said, her age has been catching up with her of late, and she spends most of her time in deep sleep. Regretfully there is not much hope for you to meet her soon.” The Bright One paused. “But that does bring me to something I’ve been meaning to ask. The High Priestess said that you were looking for a new place to settle; I realize that you have just arrived, but have you any idea if you would like to stay with us?”

“I’m not sure, really, “Nadeau said. “The bees do make me a bit nervous, even if they are relatively safe. And I don’t think I’m really ready to start worshiping a spirit.”

“Then don’t. We require nothing more than respect for the Star Cloaked One; respect it is wise to give to any being of such power.”

“Really? He doesn’t think it disrespectful for people to lack veneration?”

“He has done much for our community, and there is definitely a communal reverence for Him as a result. However, individuals are free to feel how they wish.”

“That’s a very different way of looking at things,” Nadeau said. “I think I like it.”

“Well.” The Bright One tilted her head. “It is not really true devotion if you are forced into it, is it?”

“I’m not being forced to join this community,” Nadeau said with a shrug. “It wouldn’t be unreasonable to have it as a condition for who is permitted residence. I’m rather surprised you don’t, actually. How do you ensure homogeneity?”

“That isn’t really something we value.”

“Then how do you ensure order?” Nadeau said with surprise. “Especially with all the outsiders that you permit entry?”

The Bright One Laughed. “The opposite of homogeneity isn’t mayhem. We still have rules, we just don’t think beliefs should be regulated. And there is a traveler's code of conduct that most of those ‘outsiders’ hold themselves to, so incidences that threaten the status quo are very rare.”

“And that works?” Nadeau asked skeptically. “How long has this community been around?”

“The pack was formed shortly after the Great Calamity. The precise date the pack abandoned nomadism to form the larger community has been lost, but was within a generation of the pack’s formation.”

“Huh,” Nadeau said. “Hey, would it be possible to sit? My legs aren’t really happy right now.”

“Of course it would be.” The Bright One covered her mouth with one of her upper hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t offer earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. It isn’t your job to know what my legs need.”

The Bright One led her to a pastel green hexagonal table that was near by. Cool shade was provided by a flower shaped parasol.

“Are these chairs a good height?” The Bright One asked. “If not I could-”

“It’s fine.” Nadeau interrupted. “They’re fine. I’ve been wedged in a pile of stuff for the past two days. It doesn't take much to be an improvement.”

“Right. Well, let me know if there’s anything I can get you.”

“Can I be curt with you?” Nadeau leaned towards the Bright One.

“Of course you may.”

“Would you actually want someone like me to join your community? These are hardly decorational,” she waved at one of her crutches, “and I don’t want you to take my brother and me in just because you feel some weird debt to Mizar. And don’t get me wrong, I am completely able pull my own weight, but I don’t want to live someplace that acts like I can’t again.”

“Of course you would be welcome here. Why-” She shook her head. “If I were only willing to let you join us as part of my role as liaison to the Light in the Darkness, I wouldn’t have offered without being asked to. As a community we are perfectly capable of supporting additional people, we have no reason to contrive such arbitrary barriers for membership as walking endurance.”

“Is this just some kinda magic thing? You don’t care because you can fix it?”

“Not at all. Magical healing is tricky at best. If you weren’t born with whatever it is that ails you then you could be Turned, but such a ritual should not be undertaken lightly. An attempt at healing could be made with magic if you so desired, but it is a slow and painful process, and depending on what exactly causes the problem is not guaranteed success.” The Bright One smiled slightly, “Unless the circumstance is dire, we tend to stick to the mundane methods such as crutches, braces, and stretching.”

“Braces? What are those?”

“They must be called something else where you’re from. It’s a device that corrects bodily positioning to help with movement and reduce pain.”

“Seriously?” Nadeau exclaimed, “you’re telling me that there are completely mundane methods of helping with this that are relatively well known?”

“You’re telling me that they didn’t even have the concept of them where you are from? It’s a very widely spread knowledge! Manufacture can be a little complicated, but... “ The Bright One shook her head. “No matter. Come with me, we’ll get you fitted for some at once.”

“Wait, what?”

“Unless you don’t want any?” She paused. “I shouldn’t presume, I suppose, but I’ve been told they are immensely helpful.”

“No, it’s not that I just… you know I haven’t settled on staying here, right?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You would waste communal resources on some outsider?”

“It is hardly wasteful to give someone something that will improve their life,” the Bright One said. “And anyway, it’s just some cloth and plaster or something. I hardly know the specifics, but it is nothing we cannot afford to part with at any rate.”

“But you said manufacture can be difficult.” Nadeau was looking at the goblin like she was slowly transforming into a sculpture made of goslings taped together, as unidentifiable and strange as only such a technique could produce.

“That’s why we have specialists, dear. Now come on, Glory’s always excited to start with someone new.” She held up a finger. “Just give me a moment to let everyone know I’ll be leaving them.”

With a quick word to the others, the Bright One briskly lead a bewildered Nadeau through the crowd towards the center cluster of buildings.

“What was that about?” Ladik asked, waist deep in some puppies he had started playing with.

“Sounds like something activated Mom’s mom mode.” Swift shrugged.

“But she didn’t look that much older than Nadeau…”

“Oh, Mom will mom anyone.” Swift laughed. “I’m pretty sure she’s fussed over the First Mother before, and she is ancient.”

“Gotta have a pretty strong mom game to mom someone with that title,” Nav commented. “And if you don’t mind me asking, who is the First Mother? They sound important.”

“The First Mother is the founder of the pack of Even Hands,” Lorn answered. “She’s a survivor of the Great Calamity. She was the first one to contact the Star Cloaked One, and has lead our pack with her wisdom throughout the centuries.”

“Can everyone here turn into a dog?” Ladik asked.

“If I had to guess I would say that only two thirds of the pack is actually comprised of werewolves. Getting Turned changes who you are. It’s a very personal decision, and we don’t want to pressure anyone into it.”

Ladik’s eyes went wide. “You can make it so that other people can turn into dogs?”

“Yes, but the ritual of Turning is taken very seriously here. It isn’t, well, under normal circumstances it isn’t something that happens quickly.”

“I wanna be a dog,” Ladik said, not really to anyone.

“Well like I said, it isn’t just being able to take a canine form. It adds a whole new layer of instincts that can be hard to control, which alters your personality permanently, even when you’re still in your original form. We aren’t just going to bite someone who doesn’t understand the consequences.”

“I can’t believe I could be a dog,” Ladik said. “I wanna be a dog.”

“You checked out at ‘yes,’ didn’t you?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt.” Farha shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “But, do you… like living here?”

Lorn blinked. “I… yes. It’s much, um, friendlier, then where I came from, which was a little hard to adjust to at first, but I do like it here. Even if I did end up with the world's most annoying brother.”

“What community did you come from?” Nav asked.

“I’m not sure, actually. My parents were trying to send me someplace via magic and I ended up getting caught in a storm nearby. It was very different then anything I’ve encountered since. The plants weren’t green and there was something wrong with the rain. I was caught in a rainstorm once and got fairly badly burned. I was afraid of the rain for years after that, even after getting Turned healed the scars.”

“That sounds like a pretty bad place to have to live,” Farha said.

“It wasn’t all bad.” Lorn looked distant. “I don’t remember the corruption having any significant presence there. I don’t think we had magical storms either - part of what was so terrifying about the one that I got caught in was that I had no idea what was happening. And from what I recall the magic there was significantly beyond anything I’ve witnessed here. There were really neat interactive illusions all over the place, that would tell you stories or play games or teach you things. I still have one, actually! Only I can see what it’s displaying but it remembers everything I tell it. It’s really quite useful for keeping notes on things.”

“That sounds a lot like some of the things the ancients had,” Mizar said slowly. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“Unfortunately I don’t know anything more specific than that it was some sort of magic. My parents were very secretive about what they were doing. They were worried that something would go wrong and someone would stop them before they could get me away. I don’t even remember what was making them so desperate to get me out - I suppose I shouldn’t discount the possibility that I never knew - but they spent years working on what it was that got me here. I doubt I will have the knowledge or skill to reverse engineer it for some time.”

“You’re trying, though?” Mizar asked excitedly.

“Of course I am!” Lorn clapped her hands together. “With how dangerous travel can be, a proper teleportation spell would be revolutionary. It would have to be modified of course: even ignoring how I presumably missed my intended destination, the journey was rather unpleasant to the point that people might not be willing to undergo it, but I’m sure by the time I get that far into development it will be a cinch to fix that little issue.”

“How unpleasant would this have to be if you think people wouldn’t tolerate it for actual teleportation?” Farha asked.

“It felt like someone stabbed an unfathomably cold trident into the very core of my being, triggering total paralysis. Everything burned and I couldn’t move or do anything. It could really be a deal breaker for the whole thing, but it might not have been the fault of the original spell, just the storm’s influence.”

“And you’re still... you want to do it again?” Farha asked.

“Well yes.” Lorn waved her hand. “You can’t let one bad experience shake you from something this big.”

“I’m pretty sure you can, actually.” Swift muttered.

“Anyway, the unpleasantness was actually useful. I’ve thought a lot about what happened and I’m pretty sure the reason I couldn’t move was because I had been pulled into the Mindscape and was trying to move a body I didn’t have.”

“Why’s that significant?” Mizar asked.

“Because the Mindscape is the key!” Lorn pounded her hand with her fist. “Other experiments I’ve heard of about teleportations have focused on moving things through physical space and how to overcome the severe physical limitations of that. But by utilizing the Mindscape you’re operating under different rules so you bypass those limitations completely. It brings its own challenges to the table to be sure, but they’ll fall into place in time.”

“So.” Farha shuffled his feet. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” Lorn asked.

“Living here,” Farha said. “You said that it was friendly… well friendlier than where you were before. And that probably means friendlier than where I’m from. But besides that. What is it like?”

“Well,” Lorn tilted her head back. “There’s a lot of room for me to pursue my research, which I appreciate. Um. The full moon can be rather obnoxious because pups tend to lack much self control over their wolf instincts. We’re basically the only supplier of honey, which brings in a lot of trade, so there’s almost always new people and we get a lot of news about other areas. Things have been a bit busy lately because a sickness passed through, but normality is steadily returning.”

Swift shook his head. “Lorn, no offense, but you suck at this.” He swept his six pawed arms wildly. “It’s great here! The community has a rich history stretching back to the Calamity. We got lots of really nice people who know lots of awesome things. More honey than the rest of civilization combined. The gardens are wonderfully scenic, the young pups keep the rodents out and the kids are always a blast to be around. There’s -”

“I don’t think he was looking for a sales pitch, Swift.”

“He’s looking for a new place to settle down and I just wanna make sure that our wonderful community is given its proper due.” Swift turned back to Farha. “The long and short of it is this is a good place to live and we would love to have you.”

“What I’m seeing so far does seem, well, it certainly looks interesting, I’m just.” He shook his head. “I’m worried about what happens if it turns out I don’t fit in well. I don’t want to be stuck like that again.”

“Well, if it doesn’t work out you could always just head out with a trading caravan to somewhere else. They’re normally pretty happy to have an extra set of hands.”

“They would let me just leave?”

“Well yeah.” Swift said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What kinda place would force someone to stay in it? Outside of the weird hell dimension that Lorn came from, that is.”

“We don’t know it was a different dimension,” Lorn corrected.

“I guess that is a little weird.” Farha’s neck was pushed down into his body. “But are you really… have you ever left? Personally?”

“Nah, I like it here too much. But lots of people leave, even people who do like living here, because they want to do some trading with our neighbors or made friends with some travelers, or just want to see the world. Many of them come back, but someone’s always finding somewhere else to spread their roots.”

“Would it be possible to stay a few days? Just to, you know, try and get more of a feeling for this place?

“I was assuming you’d be. Mom doesn’t joke around about offers of hospitality, if you aren’t in a huge rush she would probably be a bit offended if you just ran off right away.”

“I was hoping to stay a bit,” Mizar said. “We could all use some real rest after that storm.”

“I suspect it will be awhile before Mom returns,” Lorn said. “Do you want us to show you to where you’ll be staying?”

“That’d be good.”

"We have some fairly nice accommodations you can use," Lorn said.

"It's just a really nice bit of the woods,” Swift cut in. “Softest bushes around."

"Because nothing says hospitality like ticks." Lorn shook her head. "No, there is an inn, complete with walls and other normal inn things."

Weaving through the crowd, the siblings led them to a large building towards the center of the town. It stood out from the surrounding structures, both for its unusual three stories of height and the fact it was grey and yellow brick rather than pale wood. Even with the crumbling edges of the aging bricks, the building had a comforting solidness to it, a stability that transcended architecture and made everyone feel a little more in place just with its presence.

Inside was quieter, but there was still a number of people milling about. The lower floor was open, with large, soft looking couches and chairs scattered about. Around the room on small tables were a handful of mid-sized crystals, each roughly a foot from end to end, which gave off light and heat.

Making a magically formed crystal give off energy was easy, although making them release it at a slow and steady pace was a bit more complicated. It was very easy to make crystals explode. As such it was slightly rare to see them used like this, to do so safely required a level of stability and confidence in magic that many places lacked. The degree of comfort that crystals could provide was enough to make it worth the effort, though - fire couldn’t provide the same even warmth and was hard to read by.

A nixie man greeted them, and after a quick discussion with the siblings led them to three rooms. The rooms weren’t the largest in the world, but they had enough beds for everyone, and after sleeping on the road, soft mattresses were really all it took to make them the best of all possible accommodations.

They slept. It was good.

They stayed in town a few days. Mizar and the Bright One talked a lot. Farha, Nadeau and Ladik decided they liked the place enough to try staying. Even if Nadeau hadn’t started to like the place - and she actually did, to her own surprise - she really liked the idea of not traveling with Mizar anymore.

And before they knew it, it was time for the rest of the party to move on.

“It’s been an honor having you.” The Bright One put a hand on the center of her chest. “I am glad fate crossed our paths.”

“The honor is mine to be had.” Mizar bowed her head. “Your hospitality has been beyond generous; is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Your company was payment enough. I wouldn’t dream of asking more of you.”

“Uh,” Swift cut in, “actually, there is something.”

“Swift,” Lorn whispered loudly.

“Don’t ‘Swift’ me, This is important.” Swift intently gazed into Mizar’s eyes. “How serious are you about that offer?”

“I don’t say things I’m not prepared to commit to.” Mizar said. “What is it that you need?”

“I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do this, you don’t owe us anything for staying, but we can’t currently do it ourselves and it’s really important that it gets done.” Swift stopped and took a breath. “There is a child that found his way to us, and he wasn’t in a good place before and at some point his emotions were Taken by the Unkindness. He’s doing a lot better now and I want to get them back, but we just had a sickness pass through and can’t really afford to send an expedition to the Unkindness.”

“What does the child want?” Mizar asked.

“Nothing. He said that he was fine with doing this but…” Swift shook his head. “Wanting things requires emotions. He literally cannot care one way or another about this, or anything else.”

“So how do you plan on getting them back?”

“The Unkindness has a home not too far from here where they keep the things that they Take. Apparently they can be convinced to return things if you want them enough.”

“They actually have a physical base?” Fred asked. “I always figured it was something more abstract then that. Is there just like, a mountain of things surrounded by guard crows, constantly growing as a stream of crows brings in forks and couches and stuff?”

“I’m not sure how physical the place is. There is certainly a physical entrance, but it’s been described as an impossibly deep hole. I haven’t heard anything about what’s at the bottom, it might be all that.”

“So,” Mizar said, “you want to just walk into crow city and ask really nicely for them to give this kids emotions back?”

“I know it’s not much of a plan, and I understand if you aren’t willing to just go in on so little.”

“Are you kidding me?” Mizar practically shouted, “that sounds awesome!”

“Really?” Swift took a step forward. “You’ll do it?

“Heck yeah I will. I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to go to the heart of the Unkindness for the world.” She paused and put a finger to her mouth. “Well, that’s probably a lie. I wouldn’t pass it up for much less than the world though.”

“That’s great!” Swift was bouncing on his many legs. “Let me get Jorge and we can head out whenever you’re ready.”

He scuttled off, returning after a few minutes with Jorge. Jorge looked to be in his early teens, with long black hair hanging messily around his pale elbows. He glanced at Mizar and the rest of the party, but didn’t react in any observable way.

“Jose, this is Mizar, and the people behind her are Fred, Nav, and Plessy. We’re going to be traveling with them for a bit.”

“Okay.” Jorge said quietly, and then after a moment, like he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say, “hi?”

“Hello.” Mizar smiled at him. “Are you ready to face the Unkindness?”

“Um.” Jose Shrugged.

“Fair.” Mizar said. “How’s everyone else feeling? Ya’ll want to do this?”

“Not gonna lie, I’m actually pretty psyched about the potential to see where the Unkindness is based,” Nav said.

“I’m with Nav,” Plessy said.

“I agree with them too,” Fred said. “It never even occurred to me before that there might be an actual place that the crows bring things, and it’s really a ripe snipe that there is.”

“Alright then!” Mizar grinned. “Let’s do this.”

Swift led them for about a day to the Unkindness’ stronghold, in the foothills of the mountains. To say that there were a lot of crows was like saying that someone's gut has a lot of bacteria - not inaccurate per se but completely understating the scale of the situation. Crows lined the many trees like leaves, holding fairly still and staring at the travelers. Dense streams of crows would periodically move through the sky, blocking out everything behind them.

The entrance was impossible to miss. It was a massive hole, lined with a thick metal exterior that rose about a foot out of the ground. The hole was so large a house could probably fit in its circumference. The metal was unidentifiable, about six feet thick, seamless, and silvery, and the interior of it was hugged by a narrow staircase. A wall of crows was perched along the edge of the metal, and those near the stairs parted as the party approached.

The late evening sun cast a bit of light down one of the sides, which did little to alleviate the pitch blackness of the hole. There was no indication of how deep it went.

A thin stream of crows entered, and clouds of them flew out in bursts.

Since no one seemed particularly determined to climb a presumably huge number of stairs into a pitch black hole after a day of walking, they decided instead to set up camp, and prepared themselves to enter the unknown.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 

Sorry that took so long, this chapter really didn't want to come out. I'm still not really thrilled with it but hey, it's done.

Melissa, Swift, and Lorn are reincarnations of Hank, Stan and Ford. I figured souls would be more likely to jump species when there are just less options in general, so long as they can be something similarly cognizant.

The next chapter should be out much faster. I've been excited to write it since last summer and already have some large chunks of it done.