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thedo0zyslider · 1 year ago

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And The Universe Said - 9k Words

Once upon a time, there was a player

Or: Empires Season 2 endings and some bits afterwards, but with a little inspiration from the end poem sprinkled in

A03 Link

“And the universe said I love you.”

Animalia was bustling that day, and Lizzie was absolutely beaming with joy.

Her tail flicked against the stone roads of her empire happily, watching as everyone set up for the show. She wasn’t sure the exact reason she’d decided to have a show, it just felt appropriate. It felt like the end of an era for the empires in some sense, so why not celebrate? Also, not only were shows fun , they brought in revenue . And she could show off her talented little citizens!

She reached the main area, near where the stage was set up, and observed the final preparations. All of the emperor's friends, minus the ever elusive False, had accepted their invitations. Now all eleven of them were sitting around, talking and laughing. Even some who supposedly hated each other seemed to be tolerant of their enemies presence, just for the night anyways.

Before she moved forward, Lizzie did something she’d thought she’d never do. She reached up to the sides of her face, and unhooked her mask.

The feline wasn’t sure why she’d kept it a secret for all this time, well except for the beginning. Though after a few months keeping the mask on had seemed pointless, yet she'd continued doing it anyway for her own sense of comfort. Everyone could tell she was a cat, despite (in her opinion) the rather good human disguise. Lizzie had ears and a very obvious tail, for goodness sake!

The mayor supposed she was doing it now because no one had seemed to care. They had shown no hint of cruelty that her ancestors had faced, everyone had let her wear the disguise; they’d let her talk about it when she was ready. No one had pressured her into taking it off, or asking questions about why she was so obviously hiding her cat-like face. And now, well she was ready to show it, so her friend’s patience had paid off in the end.

She set the mask inside a spare barrel, fully intending to leave it there and never touch it again, before joining the little group at the foot of the stage.

Fwhip waved her over, his own tail flicking as well, and the mayor hurried to join him. Lizzie took a seat next to her fellow critter, her best friend, and more people began to gradually fill up the little show area. Before she knew it, after about ten minutes of conversation and teasing a certain Sheriff, the show was ready to start. To her delight, her true face was not made into a big deal. It seemed to be an accepted fact that Lizzie had taken the mask off, and that was that.

She watched the wonderful show in the setting sun, laughing as Oli was lightheartedly booed off stage, and as her star Ariana Goatee replaced him. Yep, this was definitely a new era for their little empires. And it felt like it was gonna be a good one.

“And the universe said you have played the game well.”

Joey hummed, watching as the waves lightly crashed into the side of his docks. He was setting up his ship currently, planning to go on yet another sea-bering expedition. He wasn’t sure when he’d return to eversea, but he probably would. Unless something went wrong of course, but Joey was a very skilled pirate! Nothing would go wrong under his watch!

He looked at his crew, most of them beginning to gather on the boat with a tense smile. They were one sort now. A certain first-mate-who-shall-not-be-named was a traitor, and it still stung, even after all these weeks of processing and trying to successfully get over it. Maybe Joey just had to accept that the sting would never go away, and that’s what being betrayed by your best friend did to your heart. Didn’t mean he had to like it though.

Though that day he’d been captured and lost a friend also had some positive sides he supposed. Because that day he’d finally settled his differences with Shelby and Katherine, his two wonderful friends who’d saved him when he thought no one else would. It was nice, the pirate found, having two fellow emperors who actually liked him and enjoyed his company. He still had a little crush on Katherine of course, and so did Shelby, but Joey was learning to handle that better and more….naturally than he had before. He learned that whoever Katherine chose, or if she chose no one at all, that it would be fine, because he would still have friends waiting for him when he returned home from sea.

That reminded him! He’d promised to bring said wonderful friends some shiny treasure back! So he’d best be off soon, these little expeditions could take quite a while. Shelby said she might be leaving within the year, and he was not going to miss saying goodbye to his favorite little witch! Even if she was the only witch he actually knew.

Joey clammored on board, calling out greetings to his crew, and darted enthusiastically for the ship’s wheel. His comrades joined in his eagerness, all them excited to be out at sea after…hell years of being landlocked.

The pirate gave a dramatic tip of his hat to his new first mate, and set sail from Eversea for the first time. His home, his beautiful empire faded into the distance, and he hoped he’d be returning in time.

“And the universe said everything you need is within you.”

Katherine stood at her balcony, staring down at her kingdom with a smile. The curse was lifted, the land was healed, and now her people rejoiced below her. The Princess observed fondly as her citizens mingled below her, enjoying the celebration festival she’d ordered to be set up. It was the happiest her empire had been…well since she was born probably.

Despite her seemingly boundless joy, the Princess of Glimmer Grove still felt like a fool. The solution to her home’s curse had been right in front of her for so long, since her first day ruling in fact. She would’ve never thought the fairies were capable of lifting the disease affecting her lands, and no one else she’d consulted had thought that either. Hell, her own people had never even thought to ask the magical creatures so close by them for so many years. That made her feel less stupid, less, not fully smart. She thinks everyone could’ve been smarter, instead of blaming a poor newborn baby for a curse because she’d been born at the same time. That had just been a dumb coincidence!

Katherine shook herself, determined not to get too sour over that fact. She’d always loved her people unconditionally, no matter what nasty words they’d thrown at her. If she hadn’t then she wouldn’t have wasted so long trying to find such an obvious cure. It wasn’t the first time that wondered if her birth was meant to be an omen, one that she could cure this mysterious curse; and that it had just been very easy to interpret wrong. Though despite that she frowned with a huff, as a part of her did have to wonder what would have happened if she didn’t, if she chose to not fix her lands and focus on other things instead. She was going to get coffee with Shelby in a few days….

Her mother’s voice jerked the Princess out of her thoughts, and her vibrant smile returned in full force. She spun around to meet her parents downstairs, battle axe comfortably resting against her back. Her kingdom being healed didn’t stop monsters from spawning, and after the festival's end she planned to stay up all night slaying monsters! She would have so many stories to tell her favorite little witch over coffee!

Katherine ran down her castle stairs as fast as she dared, and stepped out into the next part of her story.

“And the universe said you are stronger than you know.”

A light drizzle fell over the world, seemingly caused by the presence of a very peculiar witch. She smiled as she flew home on her broomstick, the gentle breeze whipping at her face, running through her pure white hair and the raindrops feeling nice on her face. The Storm Witch always liked to think on broom rides like this.

She thought of how she’d basically become the new Supreme Witch, well technically. Shelby had come second to Scott in the final battle, but that latter had ended up giving away his powers to bring a loved one back to life. She was quite happy that the necromancer had completed his goal, having seen how much her friend had been suffering before. The world of witches had become sort of a mess since the tournament, so when El brought the Supreme’s crown back it had been handed to Shelby for the time being. Until Bertha could be found, she had all the power any witch could ever want.

It was kinda funny in hindsight, how weak she thought she used to be. Back when she first visited what would become the Evermoore, Shelby had been a weaker witch, and probably hadn’t been giving herself enough credit. She had only been a beginner back then, yet managed to shift dimensions and create a successful potion business from it.

Thinking of her first days as a witch always gave Shelby a big sense of nostalgia. She thinks she should visit soon, after this stop of course. The Storm Witch often missed her old stomping grounds, as it still felt like home; even ten years after leaving it for good. Her last proper visit had been….well a good year or two before the tournament had started, so a trip by was definitely a little overdue. Shelby smiled softly as she flew, hearing a crack of thunder in the distance. She wondered vaguely if it was from Joel, just as she did with every thunderstorm that occurred these days.

Speaking of her emperor friends, she wondered how Sausage was doing. The Storm Witch missed that man a great deal, they’d become best friends during those two years after all. Though he kept in contact the best he could, always getting Hermes to send a message and making the boy live up to his name. Or he’d get Joel to strike her house with lightning, which was rude. She wondered if he’d gone to see Fwhip often enough, knowing how lonely the little goblin could get sometimes. She wondered if Scott would be at Chromia this time of year, and if he’d be interested in some of the new shiny things she’d gotten over the past few weeks.

Shelby landed at her destination soon after, ceasing almost all thoughts and memories of her old friends. She’d see them soon enough, but first she had to see her again.

“And the universe said you are the daylight.” (gem)

Gem strolled through the streets of dawn, watching as the street lights began to slowly light up for the night. Behind her the sun was setting into the ocean, and around her citizens were starting to head in for the night. Though a few groups were making their way to the tavern, and the Princess was sure that place would always be filled to the brim with drunkards; no matter who led the kingdom.

She turned to watch the sunset for a final time, and didn’t hate the darkness as much as she had before. It was nice to stand in it, but only sometimes. And she certainly wasn’t leaving this word under the cover of the night. Nope , Gem was gonna leave in full view of everyone, sun reflecting off her wings and everything. Make her last moments in her empire memorable and full of light.

There was a sudden blue spark on the floor, and the princess smiled. At least the darkness made her little wisp friends shine a bit brighter than they did in the sun.

“Alright, alright, I’m going !” She laughed, little blue fires swarming around her feet. Gem walked back to her house as fast as she could with the little guys swarming her, giggling all the way. They were very impatient to get her back on Hermitcraft, it seemed.

Gem laid in her bed, and turned this world's night to day for the final time.

The sun was rising just a minute after it had set, and it wasn’t for the first time the princess wondered if it ever got tired. Though calling herself a princess didn’t feel right anymore, because she was never a real princess. She was still a high elf, deep down. A high elf with two very lovely, but very annoying neighbors waiting for her back at home. Gem shuddered to think at what pranks had befallen her beloved Hermitcraft base during her absence.

She exited her house for the final time, and took a good look around Dawn; the empire she'd built up from nothing. Gem still wondered how exactly she strolled into this world, and why she had. She didn’t regret in the slightest, not at all. These past ten months had been amazing, yet at the same time far too short; though in this world ten months was like, a few years? She wasn’t sure, time worked differently in different worlds. Like timezone, Gem supposed, but extra confusing and weird. All she knew was that in Hermitcraft land it had been a rather standard ten months, and in Empires at least a few years had gone by. Which made sense really, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither was any empire here. Though the time stuff had led to some awkward conversations of just how long ago certain events had happened with her fellow emperors.

And oh, her friends! She was gonna miss her friends so much! Gem had already said goodbye to Sausage and Oli, who understandably didn’t react very well. So she’d decided that maybe no more goodbye were necessary. Those two would tell everyone else where she went! Probably. Hopefully . She had told the most…erm, reliable people she was leaving, now had she? Both of them were sure to dramatize it, and the ginger let out an amused huff at the thought.

Distantly, the former princess wondered if she’d see them again in some lifetime, other than False. She knew she’d always keep seeing False on Hermitcraft. And Pearl, since she seemed connected to this world somehow. Part of her had always wondered if there had been some other Gem here before her. She was content not to know the answer to that one, just hoped that if that Gem had existed, that she got out okay. (Even if the current Gem really doubted that, based on the brief history she’d heard from Pix. So not fully okay, just getting out semi-okay would work, she supposed.) Gem began moving through her streets for the last time, towards her nether portal. It felt poetic to disappear in front of there, for some reason. Maybe her people would just assume she went to the nether and never returned if she did that.

“C’mon boy,” She mumbled to her beloved bear, Apollo, once she reached him. “Let’s go for one last ride okay?” Apollo just gave a friendly yet tired huff, letting the ginger clamber onto his back for the dozenth time. She gave him a light scratch behind the ears, and he began slowly moving through the empire, stopping to sniff a fair amount of things. Usually Gem liked him to travel faster, but today a slightly slower pace would do. The wisps, still floating nearby, were seemingly tolerating it. Maybe they understood the sentiment of this goodbye.

They strode through the city at a steady place, allowing Gem to take it all in one last time. She waved at the few villagers as they passed, exchanging smiles and good mornings with the people she’d come to know so well. She was sure she’d remember all their names and faces, even when she was gone. She admired her builds, the beautiful gradient texture of the roofs and the glory of her sun church, which reminded her to stop and return her sunglasses. Regrettably, Gem couldn’t take those with her.

Apollo was left by her bees, because she wanted a glimpse of them and the Beekeepers before she departed. The sweet little bear even got some honeycomb, munching on it as Gem removed his harness and saddle. He wouldn’t have anyone to carry around, now that she was gone, but the former princess was certain Apollo would stay. She ignored the squeezing in her chest at the thought of leaving her beloved companion for good, and knew that she was gonna miss his cute little face dearly.

Gem flew the rest of the way there, using her monarch butterfly like wings one last time. They were pretty, and she was going to miss them as well. Maybe she could customize an elytra to look like them when she was back home. Maybe a future base could have some Dawn inspired architecture. Yep, that sounded good, but in a few seasons; when she wouldn’t miss it quite as much and could get all nostalgic. Maybe she’ll have seen her friends again by that point.

It was hard to leave, but she knew it was for the best. She wasn’t supposed to be here anyways. Just because you could travel between worlds doesn’t mean you should .

Gem stood in front of the swirling, purple nether portal, and vanished back home. To anyone else, it would look like she’d just walked through and never reemerged. She was back on Hermitcraft, back in her castle and an elf once more. The wisps floated around her happily, and she giggled as their flames tickled and brushed against her skin. Well, that was her time on Empires done it seemed.

She didn’t let herself linger on that thought, mainly because Gem was running to her front door, checking for any more new additions to her home. And maybe also getting ready to slay Impulse if he had done any more pranking, for funsies of course!

“And the universe said you are the night.”

A goblin looked on the paper at his desk, hands shaking a little as he glanced over it a few more times. It was a notice of retirement. His retirement. Fwhip was retiring, and he'd be announcing it tomorrow. He would've liked to do it today, rip the bandaid off before he gets too nervous. But it's late, he's spent all night writing this, and he needs a drink. Badly

The goblin ruler, well soon to be former ruler, stood from his office desk. He went over how exactly he'd do the announcement one more time. Fwhip had figured he'd tell the few other goblins that worked with him in the more government-like positions, then let them tell the rest of the people afterwards. That seemed good enough, and he could just retire to his house peacefully and ignore all the questions his citizens might have.

He'd walked the path to the bar plenty of times, probably too many times to be healthy really. He found the building quickly and easily, and soon found himself sitting on a bar stool; downing the first of probably many drinks that night. The bartender, far too used to seeing Fwhip here, didn't even raise an eyebrow, and would go on to just wordlessly refill his glass as the hours ticked by.

Fwhip sat in silence, listening to the ambience of the bar and thinking of how he failed as a ruler.

His people probably didn't think he'd failed, because he did what they'd wanted. He'd expanded the empire, made it prosperous, and filled the vault full of gold. But other than those three things, one could argue he'd done a pretty horrible job at leading. Probably because he hadn’t even wanted to lead in the first place.

Fwhip had only been appointed as leader because he was the tallest goblin, not because he showed any actual leaders skills. He was the tallest by like, an inch anyways, and in his opinion other goblins; even some shorter ones; were better suited for the job then he was. Well, Fwhip had some capabilities, but his personal flaws outweighed them greatly. His failed allyship with the Sheriff was a prime example of that.

He took another swig of his drink at the thought. Fwhip had been so obsessive when it came to that man, co-dependent even; which stemmed from a list of problems that only gave him a headache when he thought about them. Everything else had become second priority to Jimmy, to his loyalty to the Sheriff, to his…. affection for him one could call it. Goblands was even pushed to the side, and during their partnership he'd spent most of his time above ground, in Tumble Town with Jimmy. Now Fwhip could hardly stand being in the sunlight for long, much preferring the cool darkness of his cave home.

He thought of the damn house he'd built for Jimmy in Gobland. The house he'd wasted precious gold on, that now sat abandoned and untouched by everyone. No citizen wanted to move in, because it was tailor made for someone else; not to mention the sour air that hung over the building.

That whole friendship had been so…well Fwhip didn’t want to use the word toxic , but he couldn’t think of any other word. Jimmy had his own issues, like demanding respect when doing nothing to earn it ever. His misplaced sense of authority. And Fwhip’s codependency had only made all that worse. They’d made each other's worst traits more horrible, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when they had a big falling out. He cringed to think of how horribly he'd taken that, basically acting like a jealous ex boyfriend.

The goblin started on his third drink, now starting to feel just a bit tipsy. If he knew all the hurt that relationship would cause, he probably would've tried to avoid Jimmy, and then failed because his past self found that man irresistible. Now the two preferred to keep this distance, and god weren't they fucking pathetic ? It had been months and they couldn't even give each other proper apologies, just tense truces for the sake of their own empires.

A man sat down next to him suddenly, and Fwhip looked over with a blink. As fate would have it, his seatmate was the Old Sheriff. Jimmy’s honestly sad attempt at replacing his former deputies. Listen, Fwhip still cared about the blonde, but he could do better than a senile, sixty-something-year old man he found in a cave. He could also use someone who'd give a bit of a wake up call, to fix himself and be the better person everyone knew he could be, and Old Sheriff was probably doing the opposite of that. (Distantly, Fwhip was a little disappointed in himself that he couldn't even be that person for his Sheriff. He beat the thought down to the back of his mind.)

"Hey," He grumbled a greeting to the Old Sheriff. The man glanced at him, and Fwhip could tell he'd entered the bar absolutely hammered . He caught the bartender's eye, and gave a slight shake of his head. It was a signal to not give the older man anything else, mainly because Fwhip doubted he'd pay for it.

The other goblin nodded in acknowledgment. They also seemed to sense what kind of conversation was about to occur, one that should not be overheard, and silently slipped into the back. Fwhip really had to remember their name one day, because that was going on the ever expanding, long list of things he needed to thank them for.

"What is it?" Old Sheriff asked, and Fwhip was surprised his words weren't slurred. The goblin king didn't know why he was about to do this, it was probably the alcohol talking really. Yet still, he opened his mouth and got all sentimental to a man he barely knew.

"Can you pass a message on to Jimmy?" Fwhip began, and had to stop himself before he started anxiety rambling.

"Eh, why not!" The man next to him shrugged. "What'll it be?"

Fwhip took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Tell him I've decided to retire as ruler of Gobland, and as deputy," He almost laughed at himself, really he did. He should've done the last one months ago, for both their sakes. "And I have something that is rightfully he is." Fwhip finished his little speech by passing a piece of paper to the elderly man, one with coordinates hastily yet legibly scribbled down.

They were the coords to the original deputy badge, the one he'd stolen. They were also the coords to his old Sheriff shrine. God the shrine . Fwhip had cringed just thinking of it earlier, and almost did the same now.

The Old Sheriff looked at the paper, then nodded. "Yep, got it." He said, and somehow Fwhip he didn't have it and would ruin this.

"Tell him I'm here, if he ever wants to talk." The only response to that was a grunt, and Fwhip drowned himself in cocktails for the rest of the night. He thought it was cocktails, because he woke up the next morning slumped over the Counter with a headache.

He decided around midday, after he'd officially retired, that he'd invite some friends over to celebrate. He'd never done enough of that before, spending time with his friends. Fwhip felt as if a lot of them would be leaving soon, for some reason, so any time spent with them was looking to be time well spent.

The goblin almost reached out to Jimmy with an invite, but decided against it. The Sheriff would come down when he was ready. And for now Fwhip could focus on other things, like enjoying his newly retired life.

“And the universe said the darkness you fight is within you.”

Cogsmeade, an empire most thought had been abandoned by its ruler, still had its mechanical cogs turning. False liked to think they turned in spite of all the nasty whispers about her. Not much had happened to her after that whole Rift fiasco, not really. She hadn’t vanished, just stayed at home a lot more. And by a lot more she meant one hundred percent of the time.

It was a lot to process really, meeting an alternate version of yourself, having her stalk your home for two months, then finding out you're basically a clone of her who had to be thrown away to another world because of violent tendencies. That would mentally fuck with even Sausage , and False knew he’d been through some messed up dimension hopping stuff; despite not really seeing him in almost a year. It kinda became big news when an emperor started messing with the space time continuum, okay?

She was over all that now, really she was. She’d managed to wrangle those um….borderline homicidal urges in. Really she had! She hadn’t tried to kill anyone since Pix and Jevin back during Rift times. Though she would argue past her hadn’t really been trying to kill them per say, just knock them out and give them some slight amnesia. Though she probably would’ve tried if she had the chance. It didn’t matter in the end, because her idea had worked and they remembered nothing of her weird doppelganger stuff. She thought that's what she wanted the two to forget anyways, False was really blocking out memories of that time.

Her empire had grown as well, becoming more flushed out than it had ever been. The inventor was proud of it, so so proud of it. This place hadn’t started out feeling like home, but now it did. Cogsmeade was home , and her life was going better. She was happier, despite all the unpleasant memories, ones that seemed very persistent at popping up today.

No one liked to remember bad times in their lives, and Cogsmeade’s ruler was just the same in that regard. She hadn’t been able to get rid of that head room per say, but she had locked it up. It kinda disturbed her even thinking about it now, which was progress! No longer wanting to decapitate things was good! Really good!

That was really all that had happened, now that False thought over it. All she’d done was better herself as a person, so the time when she’d “gone missing” was time well spent. She was even considering leaving again, going to make some trades. False liked her solitude just fine, but even loners got well… lonely sometimes.

Trades, yeah that’s a good idea. She thought, making her way back up to her house for the day. False felt like she could trust herself around others again, so maybe she’d go see one of her neighbors. Maybe Scott, maybe Joel, maybe she’d even go all the way down to the Goblands if she was feeling real adventurous.

It didn’t have to be tomorrow though, it could be any day. Whenever she was ready.

“And the universe said the light you seek is within you.”

Sausage hummed, sitting at the empty bar, and ran a hand through his now graying hair. Damn, he was old.

He might be at a bar, but he was drinking juice. Apple juice to be exact. Sanctuary’s ruler didn’t drink as much as he used to back in the day. Even if back in the day had been less than twenty years ago. Though back in the day he had more pressing problems, and now he only had to deal with a teenager. Well, a teenager who’s soon to be an adult.

That put into perspective exactly how many years it had been, because back in the day Hermes had been now older than five. Now he was seventeen, going on eighteen, and begging to use his dads old staff of Sanctuary. It didn’t feel like that long ago really, that Hermes was basically a baby and Sausage was off doing, well god knows what he was doing. He didn’t regret it though. The brunette was still the same man as he had been in his younger years, just more laid back.

He was this close to giving Hermes that staff too, because he was weak for his kid. The little guy had always loved Sausage’s stories about his multiversal travels, his many lives; even if some of them hurt too much to be told. But those things wouldn’t happen to Hermes, because he wasn’t living multiple lives, he was just stopping by. And the young demigod had both Sausage and Bubbles, both more experienced dimension hoppers who would look out for him. (Inwardly, Sausage still shuddered at the thought of Hermes finding one of his old worlds especially. He didn’t know… how he’d answer any questions about a demon or an empire full of blood red sheep, or why one kingdom was now a large explosion hole and why all the water was drained. He just had to hope the kid never found that one.)

Sanctuary’s ruler decided to move his thoughts to something else, like when his friends would next visit. Or when he’d pester them first. A lot of them had left, but a good half of the original thirteen emperors still remained. He especially wanted to know when Shelby’s next visit from the Witch’s Academy would be. They hadn’t seen her in months ! Almost a year ! The brunette thought it was fair to say he missed his best friend a whole lot. He really wanted her to see Hermes again, she was always so excited to see the little guy.

Sausage also wanted Hermes to show off a little bit with his old staff, the one he’d be getting tonight. Was that an impulse decision? Yes, yes it was. But he was sure it would be fine! Hermes knew how to be responsible, and would probably be much more responsible (which did not seem like a typical teenager quality) than Sausage himself had cared to be.

He stood with a hum, yet again running his fingers through new strands of gray hair. Blegh , it felt like he was aging ten years by the minute! He waved goodbye to Bruno, the bartender, and walked outside to get some fresh air.

His feet took him to the church almost on instinct, like she was calling him there. Sausage giggled, finding himself near the chapel’s door and standing in a field of sunflowers. He leaned down with a smile, gently picking one. He’d give this to Hermes later, for good luck. And also a reminder of home, and to look inside himself when he needed too.

That last part sounded really cheesy, but it was true! (He was so going to tell Hermes that and embarrass him later!) All of Sausage’s solutions back in the day seemed to be because of him. Those strange memories of sunflowers? Of a woman in a green dress? The answer was inside him all along, in the form of unlocked little memories of….himself. The Evil King slash His Birth Dad problem? The answer had been himself, multiple versions that is. The Evil Sausage problem? That one was solved by literally merging with a different version of him, so in a way the answer was himself again. The brunette knew he was simplifying this a lot probably, but it worked! It made sense to him!

He picked a few more sunflowers, before deciding not to dawdle around the church for too much longer, lest he age and turn to dust before dinner. He had to get to Eddie and Maria’s for a family dinner soon, with the kid of course. And he needed to swing by and grab the staff from the castle before seeing his son again. He could come visit Santa Perla in the morning anyways, like he always did. She shouldn’t miss him too terribly in the meantime.

Sausage waved goodbye to the church with a smile, sunflowers delicately clutched in his hand, and headed back up the path.

“And the universe said you are not alone.”

Jimmy grumbled something to himself, quickly packing up cat food. He was packing because he was leaving. No, they were leaving. Him and the Old Sheriff were getting the hell out of dodge.

If there was anyone still living in this damn town, they would wonder why their Sheriff was leaving them. It was a long time coming really, but in short? Everything had crumbled around Jimmy’s head, then he had pissed off the fae, and now they were taking over his land. Slowly but surely of course, but the little patch of strange blue grass had almost tripled. It hadn’t even been half a day since he found it either. A lot of things had happened in that half a day actually, and his mind was currently whirring as he packed up as much as he could carry.

Besides finding the fae’s corruption that morning, Fwhip had also given him his deputy badge back. Fwhip , the obsessive little nuisance of a goblin, had actually said sorry and given it back. After months of the two just seeming to tolerate each other. The blonde almost couldn’t believe it, he really couldn’t. Part of the Sheriff still wanted to hate Fwhip too, to hate him and blame all his problems on someone else. But you couldn’t really do that if they said sorry , now could you?

Jimmy was also ignoring the part that wanted so badly to stay , to see his old deputy again and be friends once more. He couldn’t stay, he couldn’t fix anything anymore. He’d been damaged too badly, caused too much damage. It wasn’t healthy for him to stay, to be around all these friends of his. He had to leave . The Sheriff had to start over somewhere new.

He sighed, seeing that dusty, newly regained deputy badge resting at the bottom of his bag. Leaving should hurt. Leaving all this should be harder, because this place had been his life; his home; his pride and joy for almost two and a half years now. Leaving it shouldn’t feel like the easiest thing in the world.

Jimmy reckons he’s good at running. Because this feels like running away, away from his problems so he doesn’t need to actually untangle them. He wonders if he’s always been good at running, in past lives; if those exist. Part of him says he always is.

Running was easy because he could remember. He could remember how Joel had taunted him, how everyone had joined the god in taunting him. Bullying him, that was a better term for it. He remembers how horrible he was to Fwhip, how Fwhip was to him. Remembers why the goblin was fired in the first place, for his general life threatening pranks; pranks he played because it was funny. Because putting a warden near a town that had been full of civilians was funny ; was a gift .

Running was so easy because he remembered how Tumble Town had been empty for months. He remembered how he’d driven all his people away. Remembered how Gem, his friend, his ally since the start, who was supposedly a pacifist had pushed him off the Great Bridge. Running was easy because he didn’t have friends anymore. There was nothing left for him here, hadn’t been for a while.

He did have one friend, he supposed. Old Sheriff was okay, Jimmy guessed. He was more senile and spouted nonsense, but he was funny sometimes. He seemed to care when things got serious, so he was alright. Jimmy was kidding himself really, he was attached to the man. Badly attached. It’s what loneliness does to a person, it makes you attached to the first person willing to tolerate you; even if that person is some guy you found in a cave.

The Old Sheriff had started to call for him, yelling about how he had to hurry up before the faeries at them or something. Jimmy huffed in amusement, and made sure his bag was packed with everything he could possibly need. He adjusted his hat, grabbed Norman the cat, and walked out of his old house for the last time. Flick, Norman’s little brother, started trailing behind him towards the horses.

The two rode off in whatever direction seemed best, cats in tow and bags full of as many supplies as possible. Well, Jimmy’s was. There was a ninety percent chance the Old Sheriff had brought liquor, and only liquor. It was a good thing he’d expected that then.

Running was easy, Jimmy found. There was no tug of pain in his heart as he left. The Sheriff didn’t even spare a glance back to his former empire, the home he’d built from the ground up. And why would he?

There was nothing left for him there.

“And the universe said you are not separate from every other thing.”

Joel was having a really weird day. And that was saying something, because as a god he’d had a lot of weird days.

It was weird because some guy, who looked quite a lot like himself, had descended from the heavens like an angel or something. Apparently he hadn’t been a god this whole time. These past few years had been a test, and the brunette had passed with flying colors. Now he was going to be an actual god. He was going to disappear from the mortal realm as well, which was not preferable. But what could he do about that? Joel, despite all his glory, didn’t think he could control that.

So he’d spent his last few hours saying goodbye. He’d said goodbye to Sausage, to Hermes, to his people. He’d found that some people, Jimmy particularly, were gone when he tried to say goodbye. So that was a shame. And now the god didn’t know what to do. He was leaving soon, and he had nothing to do but think.

So think he did.

He thought about his time here, and decided it had been good. He had enjoyed building Stratos, he thought, sitting on the edge of one of his floating isles. Maybe he should’ve been a bit nicer to Jimmy, maybe he should’ve been a better dad to Hermes, spent more time with Sausage. (The kid had said both of them were awful parents, after all.) Maybe he should’ve been less self absorbed, maybe he should’ve done so many other things. But he must've done a few things right, because they were letting him be a true god in the end.

He was proud of his empire, and he was gonna miss it. He was gonna miss his people, the ones who always put up with his great need for quartz and gold, for what sometimes felt like every material under the sun. They were good people, his villagers. He hoped they thought of him well, he hoped they remembered him. The founder of their empire, the slightly horrible, but sometimes kind god of the sky.

Joel hoped the beautiful empire below him would stay, that it wouldn’t die out. He hoped someone would replace him. He hoped Hermes would keep visiting even after his dad was long gone. Maybe Sausage would see to that, because that seemed like a Sausage thing to do.

He was gonna miss his friends, he thought, running through the emperors in his mind. He was even gonna miss the more annoying ones, like Joey. Or the skittish ones, like False. Joel didn’t get to think of this for long sadly enough, because he soon found himself slowly turning translucent.

He thought that if this place was going to be forgotten after he went, he’d leave something for them to find atop Upper Stratos.

Joel placed the crown down on the grass, right in front of his fountain, and ascended to godhood.

“And the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code.”

A man, a ghostly one, moved through the hallways of some old abandoned ruin. It had clearly been a grand castle once, judging by architecture. Pix would know that well though, because he’d spent the past few years of his life trying to study and restore it. Well, the last few years of his life and a little bit of his death. Being turned into a ghost somehow was funny like that.

He thinks it’s about time to move on though, he’d been here long enough. Pixl could always go haunt some other place, or finally move out of the living world. He just had to write some things first. The history of the world wasn’t the best preserved, so he felt some kind of obligation to do it. No one else was, or else they’d have done it before this castle became all old and dusty.

It took a while, longer than he thought really, to write it all out. But Pix did it eventually. As his friends set out on adventures, ascended to godhood, or even left this realm itself, Pix started a new chapter of his life with writing. He was never one for dramatic beginnings anyways.

He wrote of empires of old, of those twelve original emperors. It wasn’t for the first time he wondered how similar most of them were to most of the current ones, minus Sausage and his patron Saint; who literally were those old rulers. He wrote of how their world ended, of the wars, of the demon and the cod and the salmon. He wrote everything he could, about everything he’d gathered from the Ancient Capital’s library, whose books were equally as old as the building that housed them.

He wrote of his beloved little empire too. He wrote of how it was built from survivors of the Old World, how they’d mixed old cultures into something new and beautiful. He wrote about the monuments they’d made, the challenges they faced, and how they too eventually became nothing. He wrote about how a curious little archeologist came to restore their once glorious kingdom, and wrote everything about that man he could. Pix was a part of history as well, but it did feel kinda funny preserving well…. himself .

He wrote a little of the current kingdoms. He wrote of the small sheriff, picking fights with a god. Of the goblin empire, descended from those long ago oceanfolk, now living underground. He wrote of the city above the goblins, one thriving with animals of all kinds. He wrote of color, of cogs, of swamps and witches, of pirates and of half corrupted lands. He wrote of a weird little bard who showed up randomly some day and never quite left, He wrote of a Rift and the stranger visitors it brought with it, he wrote of a dimension traveling little butterfly. He wrote of sun gods, of sunflowers and how one those old emperors never quite left. He wrote of a sanctuary full of magic and old memories. He wrote everything he could into the few open books he had, and everything he memory’s would supply him. Pix really should’ve kept a journal and preserved things as they happened. Yeah, that would’ve been a good idea.

He didn’t document everything from the current time though, because he was leaving. He wasn’t sticking around to see history play out in full. Pix was off to a new adventure, whatever that may be. He had a feeling that one king from long ago, the one that lived in the desert and kinda looked like himself, didn’t do that either. Though he wasn’t sure what happened to that guy, because records of him were hard to find, even harder than some of those long ago elves.

Pix felt like his friends would document stuff for him, and keep his museum nice and tidy maybe. If only to remember him. That’s what he hoped they’d do, as he set those newly finished books down in the library, a hidden gem amongst all those tattered, old books.

After that, Pixlriffs took advantage of his ghost abilities and vanished, leaving the story unfinished; like most people he’d studied seemed to do.

“And the universe said I love you because you are love.”

Scott hummed to himself lightly, feet falling softly against a worn path. Louder footsteps sounded behind him, and he stifled a giggle at his companions excited stomping. Owen could be a little annoying at times, but mostly his little llama friend was stupidly endearing.

“Are we there yet!?” Owen called, catching up to the collector. Scott was suddenly understanding every parent ever to ever exist, because he was being asked that same question every five minutes or so.

“We’re close!” He said, keeping his voice light. He wasn’t that annoyed, not really, not anymore. A few months traveling with the llama had gotten him very used to Owen’s antics. He was learning how to be well, more human than llama by the day too! Which was good, especially because his friend had finally figured out doors!

So yeah, Owen had his moments of being insufferable, but Scott was sure he had his as well. So overall, the brunette was a good traveling companion, and a surprisingly fast learner. Plus he could talk to normal llamas, ones that hadn’t been turned into people, and Scott liked having a way to communicate with her favorite animal very much.

“How do you know that?” Owen asked curiously, tilting his head. Scott giggled again, and pointed at his yellow eye.

“I can see magic? Remember silly?” He smiled, watching as the other’s face lit up, being able to see Owen actually remember in real time. He didn’t blame him for forgetting. There was no external indicator of that power, and Scott never talked about it much. This was like, the third time it had been brought up in almost half a year of traveling.

“ Yep , mhmm! I totalllyy remember!” Owen nodded vigorously in response, and Scott just rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you do!” He laughed, and they walked in silence for a few minutes, though there was never much silence with Owen around. Scott didn’t mind, because traveling alone and in silence all the time used to get really, really boring .

“Scott?” His llama asked after about ten minutes. He had that semi-rare tone of voice. The quiet one, one that showed Owen had been in some pretty serious thought. “When are we going back to Chromia?” He repressed a smile at that last word, still a little satfisted he’d finally gotten Owen to call his empire by its proper, official name, instead of Llamaland .

Scott looked to his right, fixing Owen with a curious gaze. Ah. He thought. He’s homesick. The collector realized, seeing the expression his friend made. It was one filled with a little bit of longing, and the brunette's two colored eyes were looking off into the distance.

“Maybe in a few months?” Scott suggested it tentatively, softly. He knew the feeling of homesickness well, getting bouts of his own from time to time. Sometimes it was for his original home, where he’f first started his journeying. Though at this point he’d walked so far, crossed so many rivers, he wouldn’t even know how to get back to his old family home.

“But we’ve been traveling for like, seven months already!” Owen pointed out, whining a little. “That’s such a long time!” And the collector supposed he had a point, that was quite a long time. And he had told Sausage he’d stop by at least once a year or so….

“Tell you what!” Scott said, clapping a hand on the other’s shoulder. “We’ll go to this place, and another one after it, and once we have enough goodies we’ll head home! That sound good?”

“Oh that sounds great!” Owen exclaimed, earlier enthusiasm returned. “I can’t wait to see the others again! Like umm, uhhh….” The brunette trailed off, and Scott laughed again.

“You don’t remember their names, do you?” He asked, forever amused by the llama’s comically short memory.

“I do! I do!” Owen argued back lightly. “I just need a little….reminder is all! My brian’s just tired from all this walking! Yeah that’s all it is!” He ended the sentence a little sheepishly, and Scott readily started listing off the names of his beloved llamas back at home. He missed the little guys too, he had to admit

“Well, there’s Crow and Mia at the Great Bridge, but i don’t know if you ever meet them-”

“I did!’ Owen interrupted, a giddy smile on his face.

“Then we’ll have to visit them too!” Scott continued, and the other man fell into a content silence as he listened to the collector go on a little ramble. “Then back at the garden there’s Perry, the little troublemaker! There’s Dan the pond fish. And there’s Violet, and Comet, and Astrid and Eloise..”

Owen cut him off again, talking about how much he missed Eloise. Apparently the two had been close friends, before the former had become Chromia’s resident bartender. Scott listened to the stories of all their little llama antics happily, sometimes chiming with anecdotes of how he’d had to stop them from doing things like breaking out of the garden.

He let Owen talk them both to sleep, deciding to call it a night a little earlier than normal. The ruin they were exploring was pretty deep underground, some old elven thing if he remembered correctly. He wanted an early start on mining the next morning, knowing it would probably take a good day or so to reach the thing. Though now that he had Owen to help, doing things was much faster than they used to be.

Hell, considering what the ruin contained, they might even head home early! He knew Pix was researching some old elf stuff, so maybe this was connected to that. Scott did prefer to keep the treasures he found, but he knew the archaeologist would appreciate much more than he would. Pix would get more out of it too, because he could study it and what not, while Scott was just gonna let it collect dust on a shelf.

He fell asleep that night quickly, Owen splayed out close by like he always was. Scott fell asleep, thoughts of tomorrow causing excitement to course through his limbs. He fell asleep wondering of elves and his llamas back home.

"And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love."

Oli rowed quickly, giggling all the while. He’d just faked his own funeral, and he’d be surprised if anyone took it seriously. It wasn’t meant to be taken that seriously though. It was just the easiest way he could think of to leave.

He was back near the festival grounds before he knew it, and honestly it felt strange. It felt strange sneaking around this world, walking around without his trademark bard’s hat and lute. It was like he wasn’t supposed to be there, because he wasn’t. The universe hadn’t wanted him here, he’d made his own way in. And now he was doing what the universe had probably wanted since the start all those months ago. He was leaving.

He was going to miss it, just a little bit. He was going to miss his empire, which had some of the finest builds he’d ever gone and made. He was going to miss walking around, touring all these beautiful places and playing music; really leaning into the slutty bard persona and just going wild with it really. He was going to miss the newly hatched dragon egg, he was going to miss his friends.

But these weren't his friends. Not really. These people, for all he loved them, were just different versions of his actual friends. And maybe all of them were just different versions of the same people, living new lives. Countless lives that stretched so far back no one could remember the first, but that wasn’t for Oli to know. All the bard knew was that these weren’t his friends, and that this wasn’t his home.

His friends had been in Afterlife, and then they all died. That world wasn’t home anymore, and this one wasn;t supposed to be either. Ya know that saying, home is where the heart is or something like that? Yeah, well Oli’s heart wasn’t in Afterlife anymore, and it certainly wasn’t here in Empires. Honestly, it was getting a little painful to look at these people and pretend he hadn’t known a different version of them.

Well, He thought, eyes landing on the great bridge as he passed by the area. Almost all of them . He thought Pix was watching, maybe felt the other’s gaze on his back. He probably wasn’t, but that man was scarily omniscient at times. Maybe he knew Oli wasn’t really dead, and how he planned on leaving.

The bard scurried his way across the abandoned festival sight, ignoring the pang of sadness he felt when glancing at it. His beloved stands and tents had fallen into disarray, after so many hours lovingly and painstakingly being set up. That shouldn’t matter anymore though, he was leaving. If Oli had wanted to fix it he should’ve done so before today.

He found his way to the Rift. The strange thing was now shattered, like glass, and no longer glowing purple. Expect for one spot, one spot in the side he was inexplicably drawn to. This…the back door of sorts shouldn’t exist, the Rift was supposed to be gone . Gone and never to be opened again. But Oli wasn’t going to question or deny such an easy escape. Maybe one of the Grumbots was holding out still.

He was gonna try and go to Hermitcraft, key word being try . Afterlife wasn’t a viable option anymore, for the bard's old home was empty and full of long abandoned builds. He’d always been an outcast here, in Empires. He was the weird guy who never quite fit in, the one who talked nonsense and never quite fit in, never quite found his place. He wasn’t supposed to be here, Oli wasn’t sure that he was supposed to be anywhere, but Hermitcraft was worth a shot he supposed. Besides, Gem was there, his friend , his neighbor who’d bloody left him for a second time . She was there, in Hermitcraft, maybe they could be friends again.

He knows he’s not the usual sort of person who they invite to that world, but there he isn’t an outcast. Because it’s a server full of so many different people, ones who never quite fit anywhere else and some who do fit elsewhere, they just prefer that weird little group. And Oli can see why. Maybe he won’t be outcasted there, maybe he’ll fit in. They at least won’t kick him out, he’s sure of that. And if they try he hopes Joe Hills and Gem will back him up. Man he misses Joe Hills. He can even see Tiny Tom again, tell the little guy hello from Jimmy and Joel; who have absolutely forgotten about the kid at this point.

Oli steps through the swirling, yet all familiar purple mass of the rift. He thinks he feels it close behind him, and is content to be taken wherever. Unless it’s the void with that stupid , fucking unreasonably long poem being muttered into nothingness again. Anything but there he’s fine with, because you can’t start over again in the void.

“You.”

"You are the player."

"Wake up."

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m0ther-of-p3arl · 1 year ago

Text

i know you’re poison

(robert aeor high au p13)

masterpost

hey!! so i wouldn't normally ask this of you, but we're in teh endgame of the fic now, things are really starting to come into shape. so, if you're willing, would you mind reblogging?? it would mean the world to me, and since we're in the culminating chapters, there's really not too much to come from here. writing this fic has been a dream come true for me as an author (robert aeor high is actively my longest work ever, as well as the one i've had the most fun writing) and i am genuinely so happy to be able to share this with you all. just something to take into consideration as we reach the endgame of this fic!!

...although Father is a loudly destructive, angrily defiant blowhard, Scott’s known ever since a very young age that his sneaking, scheming mother is the one he really needs to be afraid of. And even now, as she leads him by his arm into the kitchen, making snide, passive-aggressive comments about the way he’s dressed, her inch-long nails cutting into his arm, Scott finds himself curling in on himself, his old submissive habits taking over automatically, by design.

or, alright bitches time to finally meet scott's mom!! fairly short chapter but the next one's gonna explain a lot of shit

TW: cults, implied murder by flamethrower, mind control, mind games, implied murder of a minor, manipulation

please lmk if i missed anything!!

(3543 words)

Scott’s mother hooks him gently by the elbow and leads him inside, just like in all the old movies, her smile the same as he remembers it, slippery and snake-like, charismatic and smooth, her personality exactly right and without a fault for what she is- a cult leader. She’s wearing a long, slitted black dress, her piercing cyan eyes the same shade as Scott’s and tipped with the darkest winged eyeliner he’s ever seen. Her siren scales shimmer in the artificial light, and Scott catches glimpses of purple, green, yellow, and blue, all at once, reflected in them.

The edges of Mother’s lips are curved up in a salacious smile, blanketed under her signature deep crimson lipstick, a shade so dark that at this point, it might as well be purple. Her hair, exactly the same bright teal color as her eyes, is slicked back into a tight ponytail, showing off her smooth and unwrinkled forehead and defined widow’s peak, the ends of her hair reaching almost to her waist.

“Ah, Scott, I’ve been looking for you,” she smarms, some facsimile of warmness edging into her voice, a tone that Scott’s come to know to be fake, smothering her voice in honey. “But then I came home, and your father had kicked you out. Despicable, absolutely despicable! So, naturally, I told him to get out and find his own home.”

Scott nods along amicably, because as he’s learnt from years of experience, the best way to stay out of his mother’s way is to keep under the radar and not spark her anger. As anyone could tell from even a few minutes in her presence, the best, no, only way to describe Mother would be that she is a power-hungry, scarily intelligent diva.

Coming from one of the richest families around, Karissa Major lived a sheltered, spoiled childhood in which she was generally given anything she asked for. As a result, she became extremely smart- because instead of asking for toys like a normal child, the only things Karissa ever wanted were books. And not fiction books that you’d think a child would like- Karissa only read books on psychology, on the human psyche, eventually graduated from college with a masters’ degree in psychology at sixteen, afterwards scooping up some hapless gorgon twice her age from his own wife, seducing him with her singing until he left his one true love for her. That was Scott’s father.

When Karissa married Scott’s father, named Andre Piccolino before he took her name, her fortune had doubled, even tripled, in size- money rolling in from every corner, rich friends, patrons left and right. The ample flow of cash only seemed to grow when Karissa managed to form a special “friend group” who she calls “the Watchers”. As far as Scott knows, they live life in the mountains in a secluded, secret compound- one his mother’s been at for the past year, and one he wouldn’t set foot in if you paid him (providing he was suddenly allowed to, of course. Scott’s been banned from the Watchers for as long as he can remember.)

Yeah, the Watchers. Her cult. Karissa demands half the profits of all her members as soon as they move in, and if they dare attempt to leave, her wrath is… well, let’s just say no one’s attempted to leave the cult in about seven years, since a particularly harrowing incident involving a girl, seventeen at the time, a dark forest, and a blowtorch.

Her body was never found, most likely burnt to a crisp.

Scott only knows about this… incident… due to overheard conversations his Mother had on the phone when he was young.

Because although Father is a loudly destructive, angrily defiant blowhard, Scott’s known ever since a very young age that his sneaking, scheming mother is the one he really needs to be afraid of. And even now, as she leads him by his arm into the kitchen, making snide, passive-aggressive comments about the way he’s dressed, her inch-long nails cutting into his arm, Scott finds himself curling in on himself, his old submissive habits taking over automatically, by design.

“So, um, what exactly are you doing here?” Scott asks flatly, earning a shocked look from Mother as he interrupts yet another mention of The Watchers and how “we would love to have you, really, darling.”

Huh. He supposes he’s not strictly unallowed anymore.

“Well, I’m coming back to check on my darling baby boy, of course. So, Scott, tell me how it’s been going. Tell me… everything.” Her irises briefly flash a dark, instant pitch, like a void pulling him in, trying to pull everything out of him piece by piece by piece. Because right. She’s a siren. Scott should have known Mother would do this at some point.

He tries to keep his mouth closed, he really does, but she’s too powerful and she knows it- her lips quirk up a centimeter further in genuine triumph as Scott’s own lips part and he begins to recount the story of the past few months, every last detail. His mother listens intently, her hands clasped underneath her chin, elbows resting on the stone table, as the sky gets darker and darker outside. Hours must have passed by the time Scott finishes, gasping for a breath.

The only part he manages to leave out of his lengthy tale are the memories he and Jimmy have shared.

“Well! Thank you so very much, Scott, what a positively lovely storytime.” Karissa claps her hands together decidedly, her smile growing wider by the minute, a cheshire cat grin that unnerves Scott to his very bone. “So, about this Jimmy- would either of you be interested in a little something my friend group has to offer? We’re thinking of putting on a little show, and we were wondering if you and some of your friends would consent to be the, ah, actors, let’s say.”

Scott’s first instinct, one he feels down to his inner core, is to say no- to yell it, scream it in Karissa’s face, and run from the house, as quickly as possible. He doesn’t want anything to do with his mother, or the Watchers, or anything they have to offer- Mother has ruined his life more times than he dares to count. But her smile is so inviting, so warm, and he’s certain that despite it all, she really does want what’s best for him…

This time, Scott catches the faint scent of siren magic on the air as her eyes start to go black, shaking his head violently and sending a glare in her direction. “Cut it out, Mother. No, I don’t want to be a part of another one of your twisted little experiments- you think I don’t know what happened to the kids from the first one?”

Karissa raises one eyebrow so high that it almost disappears into her overly defined hairline, an expression of strict disappointment plastered atop her features. “Impressive, Scott. I’m glad you’re finally beginning to take your siren side into account. This does, however, make things a lot more… difficult, I’ll say, for us.”

“Because you can’t control me on a whim? Yeah, I’d say that’s a good thing, actually. I don’t want anything to do with you, it was a mistake to come here in the first place. I need to leave, I need to go, Jimmy’s probably going crazy looking for me.” Scott stands, roughly pushing away his chair, and turns to leave, with every intent of getting out of this wretched place and back to the comfortable safety of Jimmy.

“I know about the rapport, Scott.” Mother’s voice drips from behind him like honey, and his shoulders clench, stopping him in his tracks.

“...The what?” Scott asks, dread welling up inside him for some unknown reason, sticky and pulling at his insides.

His mother sighs dramatically, throwing her hands up into the air like the diva she is. “The rapport! Really, you’ve not had quite the best education in the ways of sirens, have you?”

“My education is fine, Mother.” Scott clenches his teeth, still with half a mind to just forget about whatever she’s on about this time and leave. But she’s got him hooked, and she knows it, her snaking grin growing somehow even wider- Scott swears that her mouth shouldn’t be able to stretch that far, it’s almost unnatural how stretched and strained her face is.

“A rapport is an emotional and mental bond a siren, or, in your case, half-siren, can share with another sentient being. Rapports are only formed between two people who have great trust and respect for each other, and they can manifest in a variety of different ways. I could sense the magic of it on you as soon as I took your arm when you first walked in the door. So, tell me- how has your rapport shown itself, and who did you decide to share it with?”

Scott doesn’t want to admit that his mother has struck him speechless, but she has. For the first time in the last few months, everything is almost too clear, as if he’s been squinting through layers of clouded glass that have suddenly and miraculously been wiped clean. “Wait. That’s what it is? The thing me and Jimmy have?” The words are out before he can stop himself, curiosity creeping into his mind, pushing out any coherent thoughts.

“Oh, so it’s Jimmy, is it?” Karissa asks, her smile dropping for the first time so far, to be replaced by a slight and subtle sneer. If Scott hadn’t spent all of his formative years with the woman, he’s not sure he would’ve even noticed the negative expression. “Scott, I’m not like your father. I’m not against you having a boyfriend- in fact, I had a girlfriend when I was younger. I am many things, but a homophobe is not one of them. But, still, I do have my worries- didn’t you say he was homeless before that? Not to mention the fact that he’s an avian… I’m not sure if I want you to associate with their kind, they’re awfully… scruffy. Not fit to interact with people of our class.”

Her words take Scott by surprise, though honestly, at this point in their relationship, they probably shouldn’t. “That’s- that’s not an okay thing to say- what the fuck, Mother? Jimmy is one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met, and John and Laura are better parents than you and Father ever were.” Now that he knows his mother can’t control him through her magic, Scott suddenly feels a whole damn lot more confident. Of course, even without her siren powers, Mother is a master manipulator, but at least now he knows that if she tries her magic again, he has a way to cancel it out.

“Hm,” Scott’s mother mutters noncommittally, scrutinously looking over her nails with faked interest before meeting Scott’s eyes, where her wide grin has grown back on her face. “Anyways- are you interested in learning more about the rapport, how to manage and utilize it, et cetera?’

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, (because if he didn’t know his mother was a terrible person, he sure does now) Scott is. He’s insanely interested, he’s never really had a chance to learn about this part of his heritage, of his backstory- and if it’s special, what he and Jimmy share, he wants to find some way to control it so they aren’t both just bowled over by memories whenever emotions get too high.

“Yes.” He voices the answer against his best judgment, he says the wordsAnd that’s it. Mother has him in checkmate, there’s no getting out of this, and from the look on her face, he can tell that she knows she’s won. Once again, she’s won.

“Fantastic!” Karissa claps her hands together again, kicking off her spiked heels under the table and grabbing Scott by his shoulder, steering him upstairs and into her study, a room Scott’s never been allowed inside until now.

“But, of course, no knowledge comes without a price,” Mother smiles with a fake, dripping sweetness, grabbing books down off the bookshelves of this unfamiliar room, her long, turquoise nails a striking color against the black binding as she pulls a particular volume off the shelf.

To be honest, Scott had known this was coming: he knew there was no way his manipulative, power-thirsty mother would simply teach him the ways of sirens, it really wasn’t even a possibility that there wasn't a catch. Sometimes Scott wonders what would have happened if he had grown up with different parents, and then he realizes it’s a miracle he isn’t as fucked up as others in his situation have been. For the most part, he’s a genuinely kind, empathetic person, and he’s surprised, when he thinks about it, that he hasn’t turned out differently.

“Okay, what’s the price then?” Scott asks skeptically, bringing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. He leans cautiously up against the closed, creme-colored door, shoulders tent and alert.

“I want you to participate in my experiment.” The words flow off Karissa’s tongue smoothly, like honeyed butter, so confident that Scott can’t even imagine something else his mother might have said.

“Of course you do,” he mutters, pursing his lips and trying to conceal the intense fear rushing through his veins.

“I promise, it’s completely ethical,” Mother smiles in such a way that makes Scott certain it’s not ethical at all, sitting down at the desk and picking up the books she’d grabbed from the shelves.

“Somehow, given your history, I highly doubt that.”

“Oh, quit your grumbling,” his mother simpers, poking Scott in the middle of his nose on the way out the door, books carried effortlessly under her arm. “Come on, it’ll be a fun bonding experience for you and your boyfriend! And you can bring along some other friends too! Of course, I’ve already advertised throughout your school and gotten several submissions from students who want to join, but it just wouldn’t be the same without my favorite son in the competition.”

“I’m your only son,” Scott points out, following his mother (like a lost puppy, little as he wants to admit it) as she sashays through the halls, back downstairs, and into the basement. “And also, what do you mean ‘competition’?”

Mother hums, infuriatingly, and Scott can tell she knows she’s got him on the hook. “Oh, you know, a little game. A few of my friends’ kids are going to be participating too, and of course, you will be paid handsomely. Would you like me to list off the people who have agreed to join?”

“...Sure.”

“The first person who signed up, almost immediately as I put up the fliers, was this boy named Grian, an avian. He goes to your school, doesn’t he?” Karissa doesn’t wait for an affirmative answer from Scott, one that she quite obviously already knows, instead barreling on. “I saw a certain spark in Grian, so I’ve given him some… special privileges. Two boys, best friends named Impulse and Skizz, signed up as well; I believe they go to the public school downtown? A couple others too. Oh, and I can’t believe my silly mind, I almost forgot to tell you that your dear friend Joel has also signed on!” The woman claps her hands in a satisfied manner, and Scott wants to throw up.

It is very clear that she hasn’t forgotten, she never did, she’s just been holding onto that bit of information as a last resort. Scott doesn’t want Joel alone in anything his mother’s concocting, especially not if it has something to do with the Watchers. If he wasn’t checkmated before, he certainly is now- there is no way he’s letting Joel deal with whatever horrific experiment his mother has concocted this time.

“Fine. Fine! If you’ve managed to somehow get Joel roped into this, I guess I’ll join! It’s not like I have any choice, anyway.” Scott spits out the words like poison gracing his tongue, and he can see the edges of his shades frosting over from his anger out of the corners of his eyes.

Mother’s cheshire cat grin grows even wider, her heavily mascaraed eyes opening wide in mock surprise. “Oh, Scott, thank you so much! I knew I could count on you,” she smiles, sighing dramatically as if everything would have been ruined if Scott hadn’t decided to play into her sick little mind games.

“Yeah, great, cool. I’m going home.” He’s done. He’s so done with his bitch of a mother, why did he ever think it could be different, she’s always been like this, always-

“This is your home, dear!” Karissa looks somehow offended, and the utter irony and sickness of the situation chills Scott to the bone, a disgusted sneer moving across his features as naturally as a skim of oil slimes across the surface of a cup of water.

“No. It’s not.” As Scott walks out, Mother makes no move to stop him- but he can feel her eyes searing into his back, almost hear the way her teeth click together when she smiles. She doesn’t call out until he’s already halfway down the garden path.

“Scott, darling! Come over, this time tomorrow, and I’ll teach you about the rapport, what it means, and how you can harness it. Don’t forget to try and get Jimmy and Owen and Shelby into the game, there’s a limited number of slots!”

Scott’s back tenses at the word game.

Nothing good can come of this.

As he steps through the now-deserted streets, he pulls up his phone to check for notifications he might have missed, and inadvertently realizes it’s somehow well past midnight. Where did the time go? What has he been doing all day? Jimmy must be worried sick-

His phone rings, and speak of the devil, it’s the canary himself. Scott picks up immediately, pressing the phone to his ear, Jimmy’s voice panicked but still coherent on the other end.

“Scott, thank god you picked up! Are you okay? What happened, where have you been?! Owen and I have been so worried about you, and John and Laura were just about to call the police to file a missing persons report- but I insisted calling you one more time and thank god I did, please get home soon, we’re all so worried-” Jimmy takes a break to breathe, and something seems to snap in him, his anger pouring through the phone and almost making Scott flinch.

“Scott, where the fuck have you been?! I haven’t seen you since noon, you’ve been gone for more than 12 hours, I was so scared, explain yourself right this fucking instant! Or I swear to god-”

“Jimmy, I’m fine, I’m fine.” Scott tries to disregard the pang of affection he feels for his boyfriend, because he was worried about him, someone was actually worried about Scott- “My mother was in town, so I decided to pay her a visit. I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

“Losing track of time is three or four hours gone, maybe five. YOU WERE GONE FOR TWELVE AND A HALF HOURS. I know you have a better explanation, a real explanation, and I want to hear it. Now. Also, wind back: your MOTHER was in town?! You mean the abusive, manipulative cult leader mother who I’ve heard oh so LITTLE about?”

“Okay, okay, let me get home, and I’ll explain everything, I swear.”

There’s silence on the other end, and Scott feels a bit of anxiety set in. He’s really made Jimmy worry, probably Owen too, and he can’t even imagine the panic that must be going through John and Laura’s minds right now. Scott swallows deeply, quickening his pace and stepping down the well-tread route to his home. He doesn’t look behind him as his mother steps out onto the deck and watches him go, a manipulative, wide-toothed smile painted ferociously across her face.

“I’ve got you now,” she whispers, quietly, as Scott’s heart thumps green in her enhanced vision. He doesn’t know it yet, but he doesn’t have a choice in whether he participates in her game or not. It’s not an option anymore.

But Karissa, through years of reading psychology books in her free time, through years of leading her cult (yes, she does admit it’s a cult- not that she would to anyone’s face)- through all this, Karissa has found that the best way to make someone do something you want is to make them feel as if they’ve got a choice.

Even when they absolutely do not. Scott has been ensnared, and because of his rapport, so has Jimmy. Now, it’s only a matter of time before they realize it themselves. It’s only a plus that Scott has already agreed of his own free will to participate in her game.

A quiet laugh spreads across the post-midnight town, a cackle that sets deep into the bones of any who hear it, tossing and turning in their sleep. Oh yes, Karissa is ready. She has been ready for as long as she can remember.

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