#because of those intense emotions

[good-beanswrites]

Another Truman show thing: the scene where Truman gets kinda physically violent, maybe with mu, she would break character maybe at one point (T3)

This was such an interesting concept, thank you!! OUGH I didn't realize my silly fix-it was capable of such angst until I started writing 😭😭😭 There's no graphic violence/gore, but still warning for Es pushing Muu around.

Muu’s tears for Haruka may not have been real, but these ones were definitely genuine. If anything, she’d been jealous that Haruka got to spend the majority of this trial in the plushy facility rooms with good meals, while the others were still in these cold cells. However, face-to-face with Es, who was grieving someone she cared just as deeply about, she found her sobs came easily.

“You could have stopped him.” Everything about Es was shaking – their voice, their hands, and as she would soon realize, their composure. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I d-didn’t know…” She covered her mouth, shaking her head frantically. “I didn’t -hic- think he would…”

“But you did!” Es’s arm flung out, knocking over their chair. The clatter rattled in Muu’s ears. “You knew, because we all knew!”

Muu leapt up, in part due to the clatter startling her, and in part to speak her piece. “Then why didn’t you stop it? If you -hic- if you had just –”

“If I had just what? Forgiven you?” They roared.

“O-o-or him!” 

“You’re trying to pin the blame on me? How dare you!”

Es shoved her backwards. She gasped as she hit the concrete wall.

“But why -hic- why is it my fault? You let it happen, and he did, and Shidou, and everyone!” 

“You really can’t take an ounce of responsibility, can you?” 

Muu tried to flee, but as emphasis on their last words, Es pushed her again. She went flailing and grabbed onto Es’s uniform. The pair went tumbling to the ground, Es still trying to jerk her around. Muu winced at the pain as she slammed into the cold stone.

“Why are you doing this to me? -hic- It wasn’t me, I swear!”

“It was all you!”

Es was on top of her, their voice shrill and their eyes wild. She had always thought it was an exaggeration when Jackalope gave them notes to make their eyes look so intense and frenzied in their videos. 

All of the sudden, she realized that people really do have that look when they’re ready to kill you.

“You monster!” 

Muu’s vision sparked as Es’s palm struck her cheek. She’d never been slapped before. The sting seemed to seep all the way under her skin. 

“People like you are –!” 

Their words were cut short as Muu delivered a slap of her own. She hadn’t meant to. She’d been so focused on keeping her mouth shut, and not blurting out the best defense (“he’s not dead!”), she hadn’t even considered her self preservation instincts would kick in. Her whole body itched to throw Es off, to hurt them before they could hurt her. In all honesty, it was a miracle she’d only tried a slap.

The pair stared at each other with wide eyes. The shock had snapped Es out of their fury.

“But you… how…”

The prison bell rang, far earlier than it should have.

Muu shook her head. “I… don’t know…” 

As the room changed shape around them – revealing intricate parts of machine that did absolutely nothing – she lay there crying. Crying about what Es had said. Crying from fear of them. Crying that she may have ruined the whole experiment. Crying because in every way, she had failed the people she wanted to help.

Es rose, stumbling away from her. 

“Muu.” Their voice was hoarse. “I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand.” Their eyes flicked nervously to her, wondering what had caused this sudden breach of the prison’s main restriction. “Perhaps… Milgram makes exceptions when I’ve taken things too far. I… I didn’t mean to push you to that point.”

She nodded weakly, rising off the ground. She took her seat again. 

There was a moment where they both sat in heavy silence; both afraid of what Es was capable of. 

“Prisoner 004, sing your sins.”

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

TF One D-16

[lunarharp]

when an obsessed orufrey person plays ace attorney for the first time in a while

[stefisdoingthings]

Nightow. Hey Nightow. Thank you for making men cry in various situations. Doing God’s work.

[krotiation]

this soundtrack genuinely makes me so emotional like damn. the jack vs fiona scene at the end of ep 2 is already so perfect and then they had to go make this beautiful as hell ost with it too. those bastards

[crownedwille]

I've come to the conclusion that loving young royals doesn't mean I can't be critical about it, maybe especially bc I love the show so much I have such strong feelings about it, good and bad and I can love parts of canon and agree with it and appreciate it but I don't have to love it all. I have accepted that it's okay if I don't accept the ending and I don't have to force myself to support it. It's okay to not agree with all of canon and it's okay to not side with all of the creators' intentions/views. Loving a show doesn't mean you have to take everything the writers say on face value and that's the only version that is allowed to exist. Canon isn't everything and fandom is about curating your own experience that makes you happy and not miserable. You don't have to dismiss canon in every aspect and ignore it entirely, that's certainly not what I want but there is a fine line between being canon respectful, allowing some parts to exist and sometimes, yes, you just have to say "fuck canon" and move on for your own sanity and wellbeing

[kuruk]

oh my god I know like it sounds weird to say this when it's just avatar but the original show has aang go back to the southern air temple to show katara and sokka his home only to find evidence of the genocide of his people and the loss of his loved ones and it's quiet until you see his grief and his rage but you just see the aftermath a hundred years later and the netflix adaptation makes it feel like they wanted it to be a cool action movie with an epic scene showing the fighting and running of the airbenders like that side by side with aang running away and it's like ??? okay it's "darker" congratulations I can see that's what the goal is based on the differences in firebending and early on screen deaths go and focus on every bit of violence for the audience's lazy sadistic pleasure instead of any of the characters personal narratives especially the women that can all be taken right out + the discovery of different places all over the world in the earth kingdom and outside of it. put everything in omashu so they don't get to meet people and see the diversity of the world and each town and SEE what life is like for them under war and have these experiences with all these people build up to something bigger at the end

[brittlebutch]

actually first ep of Voyager where Janeway talks to Tuvok about how his family misses him is that when she says they Worry about him Tuvok contradicts her and claims that Vulcans don't do that but when she corrects and says they Miss him he accepts this and admits he misses them too; implying perhaps a pedantic difference between 'Vulcans do not Feel Emotions' (false) and 'Vulcans do not Act Out of Emotion' (accurate) -> 'Miss/Longing' is an emotion, but 'Worry' is an action one does out of emotion -> one Vulcans do; one Vulcans do not.

[snowthornes]

➸ Avriel | @uroboros-if

✦ Moment of Creation 🍂

In the all-encompassing cradle of the universe, Avriel came into existence within the embrace of light. They first felt pain. The universe wracked every thread of their existence with the agony of every being, all at once — then soothed the fractures left behind with the love of all that ever was and ever will be. Upon his first time laying eyes on another being, he attempted to replicate her smile. The first... emotion he ever felt in the waking world was curiosity.

✦ Pieces of a Soul 🍂

➸ Avriel stands at 5'9. He sits with his knees curled against his chest whenever he can get away with it, making him appear to be smaller than he actually is. 🍂

➸ He can be quite contradictory in the sense that while he approaches the world with an unrelenting — sometimes reckless — optimism, he’s always very surprised whenever someone seems to enjoy or even want his company. Years of subtle, minor, rejections have trailed him since his creation, as if the waking world was determined to wear him down little by little. As a result, he has a severely low view of himself when it comes to his worth as a friend or as company.

Despite that, he persists with dogged optimism and continues to seek out the company of other beings. He keeps trying, keeps hoping, but he never really… expects to actually get anything back. 🍂

➸ Rarely holds grudges. He could be called forgiving at best, and overly passive at worst. 🍂

➸ Not one to hide his emotions, he often speaks without thinking. Fortunately, for what he lacks in tact, he makes up for in intuition. He’s quick to sense the emotions of others, including discomfort or distress, and will immediately back off and apologize if he feels he was the cause. He’ll attempt to make amends, but whether he's successful or not is a different matter. 🍂

➸ Avriel loves to dance! He started learning when he was young and picked up different styles by observing other mortals and deities, though Rafaele was also a very willing (and delighted) teacher. Would be all for dipping his dance partner in a dance! In fact, it's at the top of his bucket list! 🍂

➸ Has a sword he often uses in his dances. Avriel picked up sword dancing when he was young. Years of diligently honing his skills in the art have made him skilled in the dance of the sword, able to move his body and blade with the lightness of a swallow. 🍂

➸ Like most beings, Avriel has his personal preferences. He particularly likes eating meat. His favorite flower is the Krio firosafa. Delicate and enduring, they are often overlooked because they are always there, as if there would never come a day when the streets would truly lay bare of them — Avriel thinks there is much worth treasuring in that. 🍂

➸ Extremely affectionate. He makes it incredibly obvious when he's happy to see someone, whether platonic or romantic, and will perk up with sparkling eyes upon seeing them approach. Loves pestering friends once they've gotten close enough — a befriended (or romanced!) Ciocana may find that a happy and secure Avriel can be even more of a menace than they are. Although he would settle down somewhat when with a more reticient friend, content to accompany them in quieter activities. As long as he's given a sense of security and acceptance, Avriel is happy to follow their lead.

It's uncertain what the ettiquette is in Galaio in regards to skinship, but if Avriel were a being in the modern world he would be the type to affectionately link arms with his friends or drape himself over their shoulders. 🍂

➸ Becomes quiet and subdued when upset. It is rare that something affects him to this extent, but when it does, he shuts down like a flower withered in winter. There is an off-putting silence in his expression, in his downcast eyes. It is best not to leave him alone when in this state. 🍂

➸ Is very active, and prefers to take the longer, more creative route rather than simply using the streets. He often climbs, leaps, and bounds his way around Lucidio in an effort to add some fun to his hectic yet rather repetitive schedule. It works, most times! He appears to be drawn to high places, and can often be seen crouching on a pillar or making himself at home on a roof. 🍂

➸ Is actually quite content with his current life. While he’d probably definitely fall over from shock and joy if he got even a single offering from a mortal, his lack of power or recognition isn't something that weighs on his mind, not anymore. He’s long come to terms with his status and makes the best of it — though the mockery occasionally thrown at him still affects him.

Although it would be nice if the world wouldn’t look upon him so harshly, Avriel’s dearest wish is to have meaningful relationships with other beings — bonds where he can safely go to them and know that they want him there. If he were able to have such relationships one day… well. Who could ask for anything more? 🍂

➸ His fathers are his anchors. Avriel is a being who thrives off love and attention; his fathers have always given him the steadfast, unwavering love and acceptance that the world so often withheld from him. Even now, he actively seeks out them out when the endless streams of errands in Lucidio start to make him feel a bit too lonely, a bit too isolated. He adores their frequent visits very much, and is always noticeably livelier than usual for a few days afterwards. Avriel loves them dearly. 🍂

✦ Height Chart

✦ Afterword from Distant Lands

You’ve reached the end of this monstrously long post. Congratulations! You survived 😌✨ I really appreciate the time you’ve taken to see this little person that I made, so. Thank you. Thank you very much. Ahead is an afterword elaborating a little more on the background of Avriel’s relationship with the others. I tried to make it short, but… it appears I’m not very good at this short and sweet thing. 🫡

When I started forming Avriel, I wanted to make it clear that he had imperfections of his own. He has qualities that will make him clash with the other characters of Uroboros — at the beginning, anyway. 

(In case you missed the link at the top of the post, Avriel is my MC for Uroboros by @uroboros-if !)

Due to his passive tendencies and his subconscious wish to preserve the “peace” that he has carved out for himself, Avriel will initially be extremely wary of Alessi and everything they stand for. The fall of the reign of the gods? He really doesn’t like the sound of that. But passive he may be, Avriel carries a heart that stubbornly longs to love the world and all its beings. The things Alessi will show him may just break Avriel out of the passive shell he's unknowingly created 🫡 I’m looking forward to seeing how they will clash and develop together in the future.

Avriel will have to look past the lens of his hero worship for Luciel in order to truly understand the person they are — imperfections and all. Though come what may, you can rest assured that Avriel will always be Luciel’s number one supporter! But to close that distance between them, Avriel will have to do his part and understand that putting the other person on a pedestal will only do more harm than good to a relationship.

His relationship with Luciel is inspired by the ‘looking’ scene with them. I imagine Avriel halting in place and staring Very Starry-eyed at Luciel during the times he meets them as the text from the Looking scene skitters through his head at the speed of light, a scenario I find extremely funny and will hold onto till the day I die. The MC talks about Luciel’s eyes and kindness a lot, and I took that fact and ran with it.

Salvatore… Avriel's relationship with him is quite complex. I’ll wait to see how future chapters develop before I write more about their relationship. However, I will say that I pounced on these paragraphs from the game to use as a foundation:

He opens and closes his mouth, tasting the words on his tongue before deciding. "Please, let's speak another time! I wish to hear more from you." You see a glimpse of his younger self—Salvatore from a bygone era, when things seemed less complicated, less troubling. You think time has robbed him a part of his spirit. He has become busy. So very busy.

I suppose I felt a faint sense of regret from that last paragraph. The regret of standing before a person once so very close to you, and now so changed. For the better, most people would say, but Avriel secretly wishes that Salvatore could have stayed as happy and carefree as in the past. Though Avriel doesn’t really know that. He’s not one for introspection. He just feels very complicated whenever he meets Salvatore, though he still does his best to regale the deity with comedic retellings of his errands in Lucidio. Just to make Salvatore laugh.

As for Ciocana, I’ll also wait to see how future chapters develop before further shaping his relationship with Avriel. I feel that Ciocana has a lot of hidden depth that we have yet to see. But going off of initial impressions alone, I can say that Avriel definitely had a very good first impression of the other deity. It was an instant squish, if you will. Avriel’s boundless energy syncs quite well with Ciocana’s mischief, and if given enough time to develop, I feel their dynamic has the potential to become the “ride or die (enthusiastic)” kind. 🫡✨

Aaand, that’s all. Thank you for reading this far (again). If you've somehow managed to read this far, then 💐🥺💍hand in marriage pls. Avriel was a joy to create, and I’m really looking forward to seeing how he develops in the future. The world within Uroboros is so wonderfully crafted, its characters so vividly alive; Avriel would not have existed without it. I’m very grateful to the author for sharing their world with us. Thank you. Have a very good day, and may you all have as much fun writing and creating your characters as I did!

➸ Picrew:

[unopenablebox]

i'm fighting demons but the demon is making biweekly posts about how perfect 🌸 is

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

yeah these guys were never friends and only see each other as coworkers

[mejomonster]

I hate panic attacks

[void-and-virtue]

OP I LOVED UR ANDREIL POST GOING CRAZY THINKING ABOUT IT if you have anything else in that amazing brain of yours on this take please do share because i absolutely LOVED how you articulated this aspect about andreil. its something i particularily appreciate about their dynamic and relationship with anger and Their Issues TM. your post will cross my mind whenever ill think about it from now on.

I don’t think I have ever gotten an ask and this is kind of making me go insane??? I hope you know that you made my day and also, I’m so glad people share in my endless brainrot bc when it comes to this series and these characters I simply cannot stop

It really isn’t nearly talked about enough that the thing that got Andrew to actually look at Neil and become interested was (as cited by Neil himself at some point tho I can’t remember in which book that scene is from the top of my head) Neil’s bone-deep jealousy of Kevin. It’s—it ties into that whole epiphany that Neil has at some point, when he looks at Andrew and realizes that while he is hurtling towards his own breaking point and about to burn out and shatter into something he’s not sure he’d recognize if he survived the encounter, Andrew hit that point and broke from it years ago. And that’s an understanding that goes both ways between them—in a fucked up way, it feels like Andrew might be the future that Neil has waiting for him if he doesn’t end the year six feet under: hollow and drifting, passionless after everything he had to rip away from himself to be able to survive. At the same time, Neil probably reminds Andrew of how he used to be, back when he had hope for things only to have that hope rip him apart—which is exactly where Neil seems to be headed for the majority of the story.

I think that a lot of Andrew’s understanding of Neil comes from the fact that he knows intimately what it feels like to be caught between a rock and a hard place and cut his own lifeline, only to then fail to die on impact. Neil hasn’t had to resort to that yet, but he is hanging by a thread. You’d think that watching him struggle would only serve to drive it home for Andrew that he made the right choice in closing himself off, except… well. His expectations of life and the people in it are so bleak, it’s no wonder he finds himself drawn to Neil’s messy emotions and every unexpected show of spine like a moth to a flame.

Neil, for all of his issues and scars, can still feel things—can still want something so badly it defies all logic. Can want something with such visceral, fucked-up intensity that it resonates where it shouldn’t. It’s an ability that Andrew thinks he’s either lost or cut out of himself to stay somewhat safe, sane and alive a long time ago, but that remains as the most fundamental crack in the foundation of his being. It’s a fascination that seems to come out every time he’s sober and eventually ties into him wanting Neil—wanting something worth wanting and putting a name to it once he finds it. They look at each other and don’t want a watered-down version of the person in front of them. It creates a relationship that embraces issues big and small and accepts (even values!) the messy parts of being human. It means that any space shared between them immediately becomes safe once they settle into something comfortable together. The way they handle the uglier sides of each other’s personality honestly makes me feral because it’s always done with understanding and acceptance and they even find positives or comforts there that the other can’t see and that’s probably a reason for why 1) their chemistry is so off the charts and 2) their relationship is so damn healthy (in addition to their communication being stupidly good when it comes to each other).

Andrew wants something real and Neil wants to be real. And then they get to have exactly that.

[excelsior9173]

you know you’re in a very emotionally fragile state when fucking nickelback of all bands is making you cry lmao

i am… having a night. gotta stop reading romance novels before bed. but anyways. this song came on the radio and i had a mild crisis over it. there’s “gotta be somebody for me out there” right?

[dogearedheart]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)

[vapemaster42069]

Part 1 | Part 2 (you are here!) | Part 3 | Part 4

“So you’re telling me,” Pearl giggled, trying to speak through her amusement, “that you two–don’t laugh at me, I’m serious!-- that you two got kidnapped, and you,” She pointed to Scar with her stick, a half-toasted marshmallow impaled on the end, “convinced them you were soulbound, which saved you from turning into drumsticks,” the stick jerked over to Grian and the marshmallow slipped a little from the force, now dangling onto the tip with and half-hearted corner, slowly oozing it’s way to the floor, “and the experience actually soulbound you?”

“I– well, what else was I supposed to do?” Scar stammered, a grin cracking his face almost in two. Grian cackled, falling over onto him, knocking the marshmallow into his hair with an impressive display of balance, his feet flailing, hands clutching his stomach, lower end nearly slipping off the one of the logs they had dragged around the fire earlier.

“Maybe–” Grian snorted, pausing to compose himself while Scar grabbed his shoulder, doubling over, “--maybe. Don’t! Fall in love with the bird!” He leaned back, clumsily squirming so he was leaning his back on Scar’s front. It was quite an effort, as Scar was still struggling to breathe around his laughter.

“I couldn’t help it! You’re just too cute!” He hugged Grian to his chest, resting his chin in his messy hair.

“Scar! Stop that!” Grian’s cheeks burned red, the blush only half-masked by the low lighting. “I am not cute!” 

“You’re a little cute.”

“Pearl! Don’t join his side!,” He grabbed Scar’s hand in his own, “See, you’ve even turned my sister against me!”

“They’re not wrong, though,” Mumbo called from where he lounged by their cave entrance, keeping watch on the surrounding forest through the blizzard flurries, his back to the fire, “You are pretty adorable, especially when you– oh, look, he’s doing it now! When you get all annoyed, and your face scrunches, and–,” He ducked, dodging a marshmallow viscously targeted at his head, “-- And your fathers get all poofy–,” He dodged again, laughing, “Stop wasting the marshmallows! There better be some left when my shift is done!”

“Impossible!” Impulse grabbed the bag, snatching four marshmallows and spearing them on the tip of one of Scar’s arrows, “Knights, new mission: eat all of the marshmallows in the next 10 minutes!” He tossed the bag over the fire, across the circle to where Pearl sat on her tree stump. She was wrapped in Mumbo’s coat, which miraculously didn’t have any marshmallow bits on it, a seemingly-anti-marshmallow-debris aura surrounding Pearl and about two feet on either side of her.

“Aye, aye!” Pearl saluted him, catching the bag and loading another marshmallow onto her stick.

“Oh– You jerk!” Mumbo glanced away from the dark forest in front of him, towards Impulse, “Treason!”

Impulse raised a fist, turning as well, “I serve the king!”

“I don’t,” A hooded figure, previously hidden in the shadow of a tree, stepped into the light, brushing snow from their shoulders.

“I– WAAAAAAH–!” Pearl yelped, slipping backwards off her stump and landing shoulders-first on the cave floor. She reached for a sword that wasn’t there before glancing up, suddenly acutely aware of her party’s casual lack of armor. All but Mumbo, on guard, and Scar, who didn’t wear much armor as a marksman anyways, had settled down and disrobed their heavy guards and weapons.

“Oh, hi, Cub!” Scar called. 

Mumbo held out a hand, fistbumping Cub as he passed, “That was a good one, we finally got someone!” His mustache wiggled mischievously.

“You two–” Pearl hoisted herself up onto her elbows, “-- are spoons.”

“Yep!” Cub slid his hood off, shaking the length of his white cape to get the remaining snow off. It wasn’t a knight’s cape, but it did bear the crest of the king on the lapel. Several potion bottles clinked under his light blue robes. “You the newbie?”

“Yeah, uh. I’m Dame Moon, or Pearl. Boatem sect, Eighth season, this idiot’s–” she nudged Grian with a foot, “--older sister.”

“Cub. Nice to meet you.” He turned back to the cave entrance, beckoning with a gloved hand. “X!”

“Heyo,” a shape in the dark responded.

“Stop that!” Pearl, from her spot on the floor, startled again. Grian grinned at her.

“L.”

“I hate you,”

“Awww, you love me.” 

Pearl rolled her eyes, hauling herself back onto her seat. The figure in the dark ducked into the cave, stooping a little to fit. He kept his hood up, unlike Cub, but his cloak required no brushing; even in the dying firelight, the knights recognised it as a mage cloak, specifically one for a bone mage.The garment, made of a black fabric as deep as the void, was lined with white runic patterns that met and convoluted on various points just above the fade-point– the part where the cape began dissolving into mist, gradually becoming more shadow than fabric. The hood, which sat low over the mage’s eyes, altered specifically for this mage, was similarly filigreed, with long slits down its length that revealed a pale white inner lining, a cowl resting over the lower half of his face. “‘Sup.”

“Hey, X!”

“Impy.” he nodded. His voice was soft, a contrast to his looming figure and noticeable, gigantic iron cavalry sword strapped to his side.

“Impulse, you know Isuma?” Mumbo shifted, turning so he could both see out into the forest and into the mouth of the cave.

“Impy?” Scar mouthed at Impulse.

“Shut up,” He mouthed back. “Yeah, I worked with him a while ago, slew a dragon. You still got that egg, X?”

“Hatched last winter. She’s doing well, hanging around the Lunar Mountains for now.”

“Nice.”

Cub stepped forward, “We’re here because of a rogue mage that’s been terrorizing the locals over the mountains. They’re probably a bonemage, like X here, but we’re not certain. They could be a lost mobborn too, like an illage-humanr or piglin-human mix, something with supernatural strength and speed. Not one of us, though,” He nodded to Scar, “I checked.”

“So you’ve met them?” Scar leaned forward, lifting his chin off Grian’s head, “What bonemage is powerful enough to fight off a vexborn alone?”

“Not alone– it was a vexborn, a bonemage, and a small but enthusiastic dragon named Suzie. And we’re working on that second part. In fact, that's why we’re here! And for your marshmallows, of course.” He stepped towards Pearl, who offered the bag of sweets to X and him.

“How magical are we talking here? They would have had to have a decent amount for you to assume a born or mage, but is it more innate or drawn from something?” Pearl warily glanced to Grian, determinedly keeping her voice nonchalant. They hadn’t teamed up in their Watcher forms for a long time, but if this person was as powerful as Cub made them seem, they might be forced to.

“X, you got this one, you got closer.” Cub’s response was muffled by an indeterminable number of marshmallows in his mouth.

X stepped forward, shifting the low trim of his hood out of his face with an annoyed flick of his head. The firelight flickered over his face, casting shadows that danced from the curves of his cowl up to his eyes, which flashed in the night. “Oh, sure! I got the impression that it was more innate, nothing like a Bonemage, where we have to borrow power from whoever’s around us. But, however they functioned, they weren’t really like any born I’d met,” He swiveled a little, glancing down to retrieve a book from his pocket. “I’ve been doing some research, and there’s a possibility– only a possibility at this point, so there’s no need to panic– that this individual could be a Watcher.”

Pearl again glanced to Grian. The Order probably knew about Grian’s Watcher form, but Pearl had neglected to tell them– and the Order didn’t take kindly to being lied to. She had been able to mask her magic with the help of an inhibitor necklace, hidden under her tunic, but nothing would be able to mask the look of a biblically-accurate sphere of eyes and rays of divine light. Probably. She’d burn that bridge when she got to it.

“So let’s say we’ve got a Watcher on our hands,” Impulse leaned in, “because we both know you wouldn’t have called us if they were anything else. Or brought in Isuma, for that matter. What sent them off the edge? And what can we do about it? We could take this person down without force if we can snap them out of whatever triggered them,”

Grian nodded. “Watchers nearly never go full-angel-mode unless we’re provoked. If we’re dealing with an open, full Watcher, something bigger is almost certainly happening behind the scenes that we have to be ready for.”

“That was my thought, too,” X sighed.

“So what do we do about it?” Mumbo said, still peering out into the dark, “Or, what is it that we’re dealing with?”

“That’s why I’m here. There’s something stirring here, something old. The bones of the earth herself are shifting. I fear something may awake,” He gently grabbed a marshmallow and chomped into it with gusto, ignoring the tension in the air, “and me personally, I don’t want to encounter something that can vaporize us by thinking about it.”

“I’ve noticed that too,” Grian reached into his pockets, taking out a mossy stone, “The grass has been telling me her secrets.”

“... the grass has what?”

“The grasses hold the key, I’m telling you. There's this tall grass, one I’ve been searching for, one that the trees whisper about when you walk past them really quietly. They hold knowledge, these grasses.”

“Grian, have you been talking to the grass?”

“Yes?” Silence.

“... uh. Ok. Let’s table that revelation for now,” Impulse sideyed him, “Game plan. Do we go for the Watcher–”

“--Probably Watcher–”

“--Yes, thank you X. Do we go for the Probably Watcher, or for the ancient stirrings of the world itself, first?”

“I’m going to be honest, neither of those sound like good options,” Scar wrapped his arms more tightly around Grian’s torso. “I’m more worried about– Well. If one Watcher got triggered out by this great stirring, who’s to say that it won’t trigger another? Is it the best plan to get close to this situation, knowing we could make it worse?”

Cub glanced at X, his eyes shifting between him and the knights’ seats. “That’s… the difficult part of this. We need your help, but we can’t get any other Watchers too close. Gods know we don’t want to fight anyone who gets taken over by this thing,” He paused meaningfully, looking Grian in the eyes, “we need the knights, but we need anyone fey out of action. That includes me,” he turned to Scar, “you, your soulbound,” to Pearl, “and any other Watchers who may or may not be in the room with us right now.”

“No.”

“I– no? Mumbo?”

“If they’re out, I’m out. I don’t know about the others here, but I took an oath with the Order to stick together.” He looked at Cub, defiant, but his eyes softened at the worry on his old friend’s face. “I’m not fighting for something that’s going to put my fa– my friends– in danger.”

Pearl nodded. “I’m with him.”

“I’m out too. We fight together, or not at all,” Impulse said. He eyed Cub. “And more of us are fey here than you seem to think. You’ve managed to approach the most fay-filled section of the Order that there is, dude.”

Cub sighed. “I guessed as much. You’ll have to investigate the backside of this, then, if you’re still down to help. Find who this person is, what they want, what’s causing all of this, while X keeps them from destroying the entire countryside.”

“Will you be able to hold your own?” Pearl plunked another marshmallow onto her stick, “You already said this person managed to hold you two off, how will you keep them back?”

“I should be okay,” X said. “I’ve already messaged a few mages from sects in the area. We should end up with one of each of the branches, if everything goes smoothly, with an extra Stonemage to spare.”

Impulse stood, marshmallows abandoned. The arrow he had them speared on was smoldering. He ignored it. “Good luck then, X.” He shook his hand. “And you, Cub. We’re a call away if things go bottoms-up.”

Cub smiled, adjusted his glasses. “You always are. Best of luck to you, knights. We’ll be off, we have some Stone–” he glanced at X, who shook his head, “Soul–” 

“Nope.”

“-- Earth?”

“Bingo.”

“Yep, Earthmages to meet.”