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chiprewington · 5 months

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Character Analysis on Chip Revvington, the Chainsaw Consultant.

Genuine Long Post Warning, as well as a LOT of images. This is going to cover literally everything we know about Chip (as of April 25th, 2024) and my take on what's provided In Canon (being his Cogs Ink profile, his Interview, the 1.3 News Article, and In-Game). This is my first try at an In-depth Character Analysis. Screenshots used are from the official Wiki.gg, In-Game, and from the Corporate Clash News Archive.

Prior to being brought on to lead the Deforester Force, it's shown he's clearly a confident Suit, and has a genuine passion for his line of work as a consultant. With his personal statement alone this can be seen on full display with how he writes about himself, including noting how he's not swayed by bribery in any manner. (also the fact he outright pokes fun at one of the bribes will never not be funny to me)

Not to mention his lack of discipline records throughout his 19 months having already worked for C.O.G.S. with his usual job as an external consultant, this plus the fact he has "positive remarks" from his previous places of work shows he's probably in very high demand and really does excel at his job.

This is also shown in his interview, where he also equally shows a lot of passion for his job and genuine interest with answering questions relating to it. Before we get into that though, I feel like it's important to also point out a couple other things that I think about a lot with his profile.

This, being referred to as the "Temperamental Terminator" in the 1.3 trailer, and considering the average age of a Consultant is ~40+ years (and I personally hc him as 48), I think it's safe to say Chip just always was a quick-tempered individual throughout his life. It's one of his less favorable traits that I personally find charming.

And these read to me like Chip's always been considered "scary" among other suits. His behavior isn't the issue (yet) though, he's just a massive guy who happens to have a chainsaw for a snout.

Which. Makes this very interesting. Jennifer, stated something similar above, but I feel as if her intentions are more... unaware than the actual company's. Jennifer sees a guy with a big Chainsaw and thinks "Oh! He can cut down trees with that!" Jennifer ily. The company on the other hand probably has had this idea of what Chip could be a candidate for. They hired him to lead the Deforester Force. His job consists of him sitting in an office. Nothing relating to physical labor in cutting down trees, he just oversees the process. "Chainsaw apparatus will be helpful [...]" suddenly takes on a much darker meaning, in my mind.

Which is how we get here. Chip being modified with a clearly experimental hardware which we all know as the Personality Override. The fact that it was only "partially successful" is a very fun thing to consider.

Note the fact that from a canon standpoint the Override was implemented "2 weeks ago". This will be important later.

(The toon who got the above screenshots is not mine!)

Another fun side-note is the fact that the Override is experimental. It's experimental hardware. Chip is the only one with it. They are using him like a guinea pig. And not to mention "Dealing with Toons far more efficiently" paired with the above company-sourced "Chainsaw Apparatus will be useful [...]", you can't make this stuff up. They turned this guy into a living weapon likely without him knowing the full scope of what would happen if he did get this position in the first place.

Okay. Now we can talk about his Interview. Which even through glancing at it you can see just how passionate he is regarding his work. He is driven and confident that his plans for the Deforester Force will work. He wants to believe that he'll set an example for the rest of the departments to execute a similar plan.

And then this question comes up. And then I have to remind you it's probably been only a couple days since he's modified. And he already has rumors circulating about him.

And the moment the subject is changed, he perks right back up into being passionate about his work.

I also feel like it's worth mentioning the fact he's been actively requesting and wanting Spruce (who recommended him to begin with!!!) to join him in the Deforester Force and keeps being turned down on it. The way this and something else I'm about to touch on are written feels like he's barely been able to see him. These two have a brotherly bond and they're being separated. He misses his brother, man.

That's not even getting into this. Even as I'm writing this I just realized the implications of something at the end of this and I'm going to have to pace around my house thinking about it. But also you can see that even though just the slightest amount of time has canonically passed since the interview, you can already see the toll the Override's been taking on Chip's behavior. While he was once passionate, he's now actively complaining about his job. It's not even about the job itself, it's about what's happened to him.

Not to mention, I feel it also displays his temper in full swing once again- even if he's justified in this sense.

I also need to pay special mind to this ending bit right here because the implication of this with everything else surrounding it fucking broke me. uugghhhhh.

Now this is something I feel is so, so, so important to his character. He actively does not like toons. He clearly shows a certain disgust for them and views them like Animals. Pests. He doesn't hesitate to proudly state his opinion on them. And then you see him in-game.

He hasn't changed his mind about toons at all. Ignoring the fact that "you critters again" insinuates this isn't even his first contact with toons (will get to this later), he's... Restrained. I don't know, this reads to me like he's actively restraining himself from blowing up. "You don't want to see what happens when I get angry." is a warning to just comply and leave.

And then because he doesn't remember he fired the rest of the Deforester Force (another thing I want to touch on), he actively gets upset and angry at the remaining flunky because of course someone as high-rank as himself wouldn't want a Flunky on such an important team. Once again, additionally showing his active temper. His active temper he just tried to restrain and bottle up.

And that's what breaks the camel's back. The Override most likely activates from excessive anger/distress, something that Chip Actively Struggles With. He has to bottle himself up because if he tries to be his usual hot-tempered self, which is who he naturally is, he's just going to lose himself. Lose himself to cog knows how long as being a lifeless machine that perfectly and efficiently complies with the commands its given.

He begs for help when he's able to partially regain control (emphasis on partially, considering the most he can do is speak and prevent Deadwood from happening), but like. Again, to me this reads as the fact he is currently Incredibly Fucking Terrified because he's completely aware the whole time the Override is active. He can see himself acting against his will. It's mortifying. He's willing to beg anyone for help because the Override is genuinely traumatizing for him.

Which makes this all the more harrowing. He can't keep the Override at bay forever (likely the only reason why he partially regained control is from the sheer amount of pain he put himself in by ripping out one of his bulbs. You can see him brace himself and wince when that happens). Once again, "save yourselves" in this context feels more like he's scared. He's terrified. Because the Override sucks. And the implication of "ALL RAM CLEARED" doesn't leave much room to assume anything other than the Override likely clears out Chip's memories in order to make more processing room for this janky hardware to run at a constant overclocked state. I wonder how much of Chip's memories have been removed because of that thing, honestly.

By the way did you know that a normal chainsaw runs an average of 12,000 RPM. Do you think about how the little RPM icon is his saw smoking as if it's overheating. What the hell is the Override doing to him internally.

Another added touch I think about a lot is how his battle as a whole is, for the most part, very predictable. You control what cheats he does. Even in technical battle terms, everything is out of Chip's control. As long as every gag hits, you're really just manipulating an enemy's AI to to make the most optimal choices to your benefit. The Override perceives "X", and responds with "Y". You're not fighting an actual individual, just a program.

Clearly, whatever it's doing to him, it's painful (not mentioning the agonizing scream he lets out during this). And thank Cog he was able to regain control at the last second because it's way too obvious that the Override's "final fallback procedure" likely involved some kind of lethal force when it lunges at the toons. (The Chainsaw Apparatus will be helpful.)

There's no sorrow in Chip's words, that's what I think. Everything here is bitter. It's numb, to me.

He's clearly been through this song and dance multiple times by now. He's pissed at the toons, at the company, and at himself. But he can't properly let it out. You know what will happen if he does. The most he can do is throw a chair and scream into the air. (which that line gets its own custom voice clip, fun fact!)

It's clear he's been isolated ever since he's been upgraded, and it seems like he's bitterly accepted it. The only thing he has left to lose is Spruce, which is why he tells the toons not to tell him. If he loses Spruce...

I don't think he'd have much left. It'd make sense why he's grown so restrained and numb and stilted in his speech. He's quickly grown to learn that he can't let himself express anymore, all because of the override.

The fact that everyone else around him views him poorly doesn't help. His employees fear him. Most of them probably don't realize something is wrong, spread rumors about him, or outright attack him through hatemail. Written in Cipher.

"Chip has some anger issues. I would be careful around him. Don't worry about the Cogs though, I'm sure they'll be fine. Might get demoted back to their initial tier, but that's what happens when you work with Chip. Good thing that Toons can't get fired-- or wait, they can, can't they? Do Toons LIKE getting fired? I will never understand those animals. And you seen Spruce around lately? I haven't. I wonder how his deforesting expedition is going. There is a secret message up ahead in Chip's room. Can you find it? If you are stuck, have you considered looking around your surroundings?"

"I can't stand Chip anymore. I know I'm a Yesman, but I have to say NO. He used to be cool up until his sensors flared off. After what he did to my fellow coworker, I don't know if I can continue working under him. Sure, he's one of the most organized managers I've ever worked with, not to mention the flowing passion he has for the Deforester Force. His personality issues can single-handedly cause all of our projects to collapse. One of my former coworkers had raised concerns about Toons taking over our buildings and ultimately undoing all work that was done on our end. That poor Pencil Pusher overstepped his boundaries with Chip when he admitted his failure to secure "our" project from the Toons. Up until this point, I have never seen a Cog fire another Cog. With a cannon."

"It grinded my gears when I saw that happen. Him and I worked nonstop for days straight, while this pile of bolts just sat there doing his paperwork. I wouldn't be surprised if he was just doing crossword puzzles or writing letters to his little buddy. If you are reading this Mr. Revvington, you are the reason for our decline. We are running out of Deforester Force members because of you. As someone who has gone through close-call battles with the Toons, I hope you experience what it's like to have boulders and anvils fall from above you. You can try to fire me with that shoddy cannon of yours, but you would have to track me down first. I've already left the area and was recruited to a new organization far more stable than you will ever be."

------

...I genuinely love Mr. Revvington. He's a Suit who's been dealt the worst hand he could possibly ever get in life. He was just like anyone else, and then everything happened ever since joining C.O.G.S.. He's isolated, he's temperamental, he's pissy, he'd genuinely be someone hard to get along with because of the fact he's struggling with all sorts of issues and would be incredibly difficult and annoying to even start talking to and forming a bond with unless you're both stubborn and have patience. He's awful, and I love him for it.

I genuinely believe he's one of the most complex, beautifully written, and depressing characters in Corporate Clash. Maybe I dive way too deep into things about him, maybe he's not that deep at all. But I like to think about him. He makes me emotional, but he also makes me happy. Thank you for making him exist.

#toontown #toontown corporate clash #corporate clash #chip revvington #corporateclash #ttcc #toontowncorporateclash #chainsaw consultant #character analysis #long post #image heavy #headcanons #hcips

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inkskinned · 2 years

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you know, the light that fades at the end of Goncharov isn't light.

i am not a very good person to talk to about movies. i haven't seen most of the "official" american canon - jaws, psycho, citizen kane. i have seen sharknado, though. like so much in my childhood, what i knew was a little jar on a long shelf of gallons; my world was a catholic desert in new england weather.

my father had gotten his snout up about something; so we had to watch it. he was mad we hadn't seen it, the way people are going to be mad i haven't seen those three up i named there, as if i me having-not-seen-the-movie was because i was making some kind of political statement or argument. i just haven't seen them yet, i have no opinion about it. i'll eventually get around to it, god be willing.

during that time, i was doing bad in school and worse in taking care of my body. i sat on the floor on this green pillow, one of the ones my dog eventually tears up. my dad typed g-o-n into the DVR with that slow methodical passion, the remote tilted so the "rays" or whatever would somehow find the ever-smaller input.

he was excited. "you need to understand the light." he didn't look at me while he did it, focused.

"are you spelling gonorrhea." my brother, the eldest, was 17 in this memory. he was sitting on the chair in the corner, playing a game i can't remember the name of. (starfleet? star invaders? it was online, i know that. lots of clicking.)

my dad is used to this. we talk over each other all the time. "when they made it, scorsese wanted this specific hue over everything." my father looks over his shoulder at me, but i'm on the floor, stretching. i don't have a smart phone yet. i'm just watching with the anxious-restless feeling we all get when your father is painstakingly typing something into a virtual keyboard at an eighth of the speed you could have managed. "you'd like this, raquel. what color do you think he wanted?"

my mom comes in from the kitchen. "do we want salt or butter on the popcorn?" she has a handful she pops into her mouth. "wait for your sister to come upstairs. she'll be mad if she misses a part."

"salt," i say, while my brother says "butter."

"spruce." my dad is undeterred. he finally clicks the v, and then navigates over the red tiles to enter. "Spruce."

"okay?" i like dark green too. to be honest, i have no idea who Scorsese is or why he is important. (this is, by the way, still true.)

"here's the thing." my father doesn't actually click the "enter." he just looks at me, adjusting his glasses. "it doesn't exist."

okay. he's right. i do like this. i squint up at him, the signal to go on.

"it came to him in a dream. it's not a real color." my brother monotones, flat. he's heard this story before, and he's 17.

"i still say it's green," my mother says. she comes in holding the salt-and-buttered popcorn, fluffy in an orange bowl. "he just never painted a house, is all."

"it's a candle smell," i say.

"a tree." i don't know when my little sister came upstairs. she's braiding her hair, frowning. "i thought we were going to watch psych."

"it's old movie night," my mother answers. there's something there, in the cant of her smile, which i won't understand until i am much older. if you are over 25, you know what i saw. my mother, seeing her family settle like tired birds around a movie screen, for the moment placid, not-fighting. none of the children are happy about the selection - why would we be?

"Scorsese says it's not green." my father finally clicks rent for 2.99. "he was looking for this specific color, the one from his dreams. the color he had been told was called spruce, through someone in the dream." he looks to me again, his poet. "you know how dreams always feel... different. when you look back on them in your memories, they don't color in all the way. and he wanted that dream tinge."

the memories of my dreams are covered in colored static. sometimes i nightmare in black and white. i did not share this information, thinking it was too private. (forgive me. i was 14. everything was too-private for me.)

"a regular hitchcock," my mom mutters. we don't know, yet, not really, about what hitchcock did.

"he revolutionized the lighting industry. raquel, you have to look for the light in this thing. it's only in a few frames per scene. he didn't want it to be overwhelming."

"he fired like 10 people while he was doing it." my brother doesn't look up from his screen, clicking feverishly. "in order to get the color, he had to develop a software to switch lighting past human speed." he sends a glance towards the TV, kind of relenting. "it was cool, actually. he didn't actually light the room with that speed, he used one set of colors on the set and then another set specifically over the film. we're basically seeing two films: one that has the regular lighting, and then just this lighting track playing on top."

"like a sound list - ah, what's that called?" my father's remote hovers over play. i am trying to figure out what color i think spruce is going to be. "soundtrack," he amends. "are we all ready?"

"i still don't think it's real," my mother says. "i think he made it up for PR." my mother is good at colors. my mother would be right about that kind of thing.

"hon, he spent thousands of dollars on this." my father isn't angry, for once, he's smiling. "i'm telling you, it happens."

she shrugs. "i'll believe it when i see it."

we are not ready. we have to each find places to sit. i've been lying about how bad my eyesight is getting, so i keep my seat on the floor, close to the television. my mother, father, and sister take the couch. i make sure i am within reaching distance of the popcorn. my brother even kind-of closes his monstrosity of a laptop. then my mother has to use the bathroom, so we all do, so we won't have to pause later. then my sister remembers her homework, so i get mine too, spreading it uselessly in front of me. i slide open my verizon sidekick keyboard phone to text Dean who the fuck is scorkayze? [sic] and then we are ready.

my mom falls asleep by the end of the first 15 minutes. my father misses most of it, since he's already seen it, going downstairs to play World Civ instead. my sister doesn't get it, so she ends up at the dining room table, doing homework instead. my brother goes back to the video game.

i stare really, really, really hard at the film, trying to figure out where the spruce happens. a few frames per scene.

i don't like the film. like most movies i saw at the time, i found it boring. i had undiagnosed adhd. i spend most of my time stretching and texting and not-doing my homework. again, i'm sorry - i was 14.

when the "gun" finally goes off - if you've seen the movie, you know the scene, and i won't spoil it here for other readers - i looked back over my shoulder towards my family. all of us, quiet in our own little seats. satellites. did i want this memory to be different? that i would turn and see my family, happily crowded chickadees, our wings brushing? or is this just the real-life, the type of love where we are not nesting birds, but foxes. prowling the edges of our comfort with our jaws open. snapping at the shadows, wishing for the closeness we don't allow ourselves to get. tomorrow we will watch psych. this is the last year of my life that all of us will live under the same roof. my brother goes off to college, and my sister and i follow suit. it is the last year my grades don't matter. it is my sister's first year of middle school. it is 2007; and in 2008, in the recession, we will no longer be able to afford to turn on the heat.

behind me, on the television, the light was fading.

sometimes, when i think back to it, shifting through the memory: it appears out of the thin air. a frame of spruce. it's never around the movie. my father's hands on the remote. my brother's low voice. the sound of my sister walking up the stairs. the popcorn smell hanging in the air. for a moment, the sense - everything is easy. and you know? i think i see it, mr. scorsese.

#how far do we go for a meme?#haha :)#what if i just write about the death of childhood by accident #this was supposed to be 3 paragraphs but i just finished disco elysium #so i am too full up on words #ps most of this is true #i still haven't seen those movies lmafo

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scoutswritingcorner · 6 months

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Asthma is a distinguished gentleman(not really he's a cannibal) and I wanna see Asthma In a top hat- and a mustash.

Or funny enough him in w bowling ally- not like a Bowling ball but I mean those pin things you knock over I want Asthma in it

Facial Hair Headcanons

Hazbin Men x GN! Reader

TW:None??

A/N: LISTEN I KNOW YOU JUST SAID ALASTOR BUT NOW YOU’VE GOT ME THINKING AND THATS DANGEROUS. Also it’s giving gender envy so let me have this as I can’t have facial hair rn. Also Alastor’s could be seen as platonic or romantic. Platonic with Angel Dust

-🦌Alastor🦌-

-🦌 Now I really don’t see him having a lot of facial hair, he either cuts it all off or on the off chance he does leave it to grow out, he’s gonna have a handlebar mustache with stubble around or just the mustache itself.

-🦌 If he catches you staring at it he’s either gonna disappear to shave it off or puff his chest out with pride. Please tell him if you like it, your opinion is the only opinion that matters to him (besides his own but that goes unsaid)

-🦌 He won’t let anything else grow out as in 1920’s to 1930’s small mustaches were the thing back then. Either the handlebar mustache or the English mustache.

-🦌 His facial hair is going to be a black/darkish brown as his hair. He pairs it with a good suit and god be damned he’s got everyone taking a second glance at him.

-🦌 The stubble or 5 o’clock shadow makes him more iffy, he likes it but he also likes everything about him to be cleaned up nicely. To him it looks gross and he will definitely shave that off, unless you say something to him. Then he might keep it just to annoy you with it.

-🦌 I’m talking about like, rubbing his cheek to your cheek to make you feel the hairs and it always make you laugh. He tries and fails on annoying you but he always wins cause he gets to see you smile and hear you laugh.

-🦆Lucifer 🦆-

-🦆 I know canonically he doesn’t have facial hair but let me dream damn it.

-🦆 To me Lucifer either has a full on beard to no beard at all. There is a small inbetween, which is a goatee. He will be hellbent on having a goatee if he’s not wanting to have a full beard.

-🦆 This man has a rigorous routine of beard upkeep. He’s not playing when it comes to himself. He may have depression but to him self care is very important and it’s okay to have bad days and ask for help.

-🦆 For his full beard? It’s either a Ducktail beard or a Hollywoodian style beard. He loves to run his fingers through it and feel all powerful (despite him being the Literal king of hell).

-🦆 Another man who asks your opinion on if he should keep the beard or go to his normal goatee or no beard at all, he’s not picky.

-🦆 You compliment him or say something about his beard (could be sexual or not) his cheeks go bright red and he gets super flustered but his chest puffs out proudly.

-🦆 Like the rest of his hair, it’s blonde but there is a more noticeable white streak if he has the beard. Don’t point it out please, he gets upset. He’s not old, he’s in his prime. (GOD IM SWOONING A WELL GROOMED BEARD GETS ME-)

-🎰 Husk 🎰-

-🎰 Husk our favorite bartender and our grumpy loveable cat. Before anyone can say anything, hush. I know he’s all fur and a cat but let me have this okay?

-🎰He’s grumpy and I’ll be honest, he just looks like a guy that let’s his facial hair grow out all the time.

-🎰 I do see him having the Balbo facial hairstyle or the imperial mustache. The only way you can differentiate it is by the longer fur on his snout and chin.

-🎰 Once again, it’s mainly white with some black hair in it to deal with the pattern of his fur. Once again, the only beard care he does is trimming and brushing it at best.

-🎰 He loves kissing you as it’s only other ways you can tell if he’s growing his facial hair out, the little hairs just brushing against your chin and lips. But he saves that for private moments.

-🕷️Angel Dust 🩷-

-🕷️ Now this one will be short but I don’t see Angel really like having a lot of facial hair. THE SAME THING WITH HUSK I KNOW HE IS FUR BUT PLEASE LET ME HAVE THIS-

-🩷 He will only allow stubble and only for a little bit before he shaves it off completely. So get used to it.

-🕷️ Baby boy can’t have any due to his line of work and also he doesn’t like how it feels.

-🩷It ruins his whole night time/facial routine and if he can’t shave that morning or night, he’s gonna be grumpy all day.

-🕷️ If he does let it grow out, it’s gonna be white but with specks of pink in there. It’s more prominent on his jawline and chin but if you look real close you can see more on his upper lip it’s just very hard to see.

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smikkle-fish · 1 year

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Diseased Equilibrium

AO3 Link

Start from Beginning

It is said that monsters roamed the Earth long before dinosaurs ever did.

Monsters.

How pathetic.

The small ones knew nothing about them. Nothing about him. They had forgotten their place in his kingdom, thinking that they were equals. She told him that the small ones were to be protected. He disagreed. Despite their size, the small ones have damaged his home. Sure, some had good hearts. For example, the small one with glasses that looked at him with respect.

“Goodbye…old friend.”

His small paw had touched his large, scaled snout gently. The old king was not used to such tenderness. He was used to claws slashing into his hide and sharp teeth tearing chunks of his flesh. Not this.

No one saw the giant titan lean into the touch.

A blinding light filled the lizard’s vision. When it faded away, the gentle touch was gone.

The small one was dead.

Godzilla was tired. Dirty water flowed through his gills, something he had gotten used to. The king had many resting places throughout the Earth, but the small ones had destroyed his favorite one. It was necessary at the time. Even so, he was still upset about it.

This was his kingdom, and it was being ruined by the small ones. He was not one to forget nor forgive. Godzilla still remembered the metal object that had brought death to his oceans. Only the small ones could create such a thing. It had killed everything within its radius. Including the Fire Bird’s island. There was a time where the king would have felt sympathy towards the winged titan, but that time has long since passed.

Rodan deserved it.

Simply thinking of the titan angered him. Godzilla snarled to himself and exited his resting chambers. He swam into the open ocean. His long tail propelled him forward. The king’s anger increased as he saw the trash that floated throughout the ocean like it belonged there more than the creatures. It wasn’t that much of a stretch. The garbage of the small ones were quickly replacing the fish at an alarming rate.

A buzzing interrupted his thoughts. It was familiar. It was annoying .

It was the small ones.

This was the group that enjoyed studying him. Godzilla was in no mood to entertain them, so he snapped his jaws at the metal capsule. It quickly sped off into the depths.

Godzilla soon breached the surface of the water. The air was just as dirty as the ocean. He knew the balance of the Earth had been broken by the small ones. It was almost impressive. When the Three Headed Alien awoke, they did not cause nearly as much damage. They were weak. Still, Rodan had sided with them like the coward he was.

His treasonous actions did not go unpunished. Every titan had gone back to hibernation except a select few. That being Godzilla, his queen Mothra, and Rodan. The king would not allow insubordination in his kingdom. Everyone must follow his rule without question. Or else there would be dire consequences.

The king prohibited Rodan from flying.

He knew how important flying was for Rodan. The molten pteranodon was made to fly, it was a part of his very being. Godzilla took away that privilege the moment the battle in Boston was over.

Rodan hadn’t flown in years. If he tried, Godzilla would come by and tear the smaller titan to pieces. After Mothra’s sacrifice in Boston, Godzilla had acquired a strange ability. He could sense where every titan was across the Earth. When the king focused, he could see what a specific titan was doing. He checked every day to see what Rodan was up to.

Kong had formed a shaky truce with Godzilla. Ghidorah was dead. The only threat to Godzilla’s kingdom was Rodan. Loyalty was everything in this world. When it’s broken, it could never be fixed.

The King of the Monsters would make sure his kingdom was secure. He was willing to do anything to ensure that.

No matter the cost.

Once he spotted the outline of Infant Island, his dorsal plates glowed a bright cyan that he knew could be seen by his Queen. The radioactive reptile was furious at the disappearance of Rodan, the fire bird disappearing from his senses entirely. Godzilla had thought that Rodan would never attempt such a thing, especially with the king's threats of death. Despite how much it irked him to say, the pteranadon's actions surprised him. It was unexpected. Usually, any threat that the King of Monsters gave was taken seriously. No titan dared to test their luck against him. Any who tried would meet their agonizing end from his atomic breath. Even Kong had submitted somewhat. The ape was practically an infant compared to the ancient king. Even so, Godzilla begrudgingly agreed to a truce with the young alpha titan. If Kong ever decided to rebel again or attack, it would pose a problem for Godzilla. It was best to have the ape titan as an ally.

While it bothered the atomic lizard to not have Kong fully submit, he knew it was necessary to avoid future problems. That horrid axe that Kong had wielded caused a permanent scar along Godzilla's leg. He was relieved to see the younger drop the infernal weapon. However, Godzilla had a feeling that the little ones had gotten their grubby hands on the weapon. They would never fully understand its significance or strength. As much as the tiny bugs tried, they were not going to become the apex species any time soon. He was sure that the humans would try to create another weapon to defeat him. In all honesty, Godzilla was at his limit with the humans. They were a pain in his hide to deal with. They weren't worth keeping around. Even so, Mothra incessantly begged him to spare them. She saw something in them that Godzilla did not. Perhaps it was their intelligence and ability to create the unimaginable. At this point, Godzilla did not care. The creation of the fake him was the greatest insult the little parasites could give him. After everything he did, they still wanted to exterminate him. To take his place as king. That was unacceptable.

He has kept the Earth balanced for eons, he defeated the pair of pests that were specially designed to kill him, he defeated multiple titans that would have killed millions before they could reach the humans, he eliminated the False King who would have terraformed the Earth and killed all life within it, and he recently destroyed their stupid metal titan that had gone rouge with the help of Kong. He had done so much for them. Yet they still tried to rebel.

Just like Rodan.

Godzilla roared in fury as he breached the waters. He and all other titans had felt the presence of the Three Headed One. The others would be arriving soon after hearing his commands to wake. It was the humans fault for keeping the alien's skull. This is what happens when those parasites mess with things they do not understand.

"Goji."

"Mothra."

His queen was waiting on the beach that surrounded the sacred island. Her body was tense, and her wings glowed a dull red in frustration. Both titans stared at each other without a word. A tension that rarely appeared between the two now suffocated them. Mothra had always told Godzilla to be less harsh on Rodan and more patient towards the humans. He had respected her requests for the most part, and he had done so for centuries. The moth knew that the king had reached a breaking point. She would not be able to convince him to spare the humans anymore.

In silence the two climbed up the tallest mountain that had a lush valley below. The row of mountains acted as a sort of wall for humans. No one besides her Shobijin could enter safely. Though, the twins that had accompanied Mothra for centuries were gone for the most part. The last remnants of her Shobijin were present in the twins that worked for Monarch, the only group of humans that actively helped the titans. She repressed a mournful sigh as they reached the grassy surface. Anguirus was waiting for them with a fearful expression. The spiky titan bowed once he noticed Godzilla behind her. It was a stark contrast to how the pair used to greet each other. Before Godzilla became the king, he was simply a fellow titan. Yes, he was stronger than them, but he used his strength to protect and support. Now, his strength was used to force submission to their fellow kind. In the past, Anguirus and Godzilla would greet each other with a wrestling match. One of them would pounce of the other, and they would playfully tousle until Mothra intervened. At times, Rodan would join in the mock-fight, which created an even bigger headache for the moth. She would do anything to have those times back.

Shaking her head to rid herself of her nostalgic thoughts, she looked at Godzilla directly. He may be angry, but she refused to be intimidated. "I suppose you are aware of what has happened?" Mothra spoke with an even tone. If Godzilla was going to rage, then she would keep her composure no matter what. Anguirus was already beginning to tremble as they waited for Godzilla's response.

A snort left the lizard's nostrils. "I am. It's hard not to be aware when that fucking bird has been on my radar for years." His lips curled in a sneer, revealing his sharp teeth.

"You know that Rodan is-"

"I don't give a shit if Rodan is 'upset' or 'troubled'! He knew what would happen if he disobeyed my direct orders, and he did it anyways!" Godzilla interrupted the winged titan with a roar. Something he had never done before. The titan even mocked her when referring to the many times she had told him to be more sympathetic towards the volcanic titan. His dorsal plates glowed an even brighter blue, an instinctual intimidation display. "Thanks to him, I have to find and kill that faker all over again! If it wasn't for your precious humans, Ghidorah's skull would have never been found! I should have never fucking listened to you!"

"Godzilla, you must understand that-"

"NO. I am not sparing those parasites ever again! I have had enough of their constant destruction and rebellions. Because of them, the Earth is more unbalanced than it has ever been! They're better off dead, and you know that! Stop defending them! They are worth nothing!" As his anger grew, Godzilla's long tail thrashed violently on the ground. The tip nearly hit Anguirus who had started to back away from the arguing pair. Each word that left his mouth shocked Mothra more and more. Her partner had never disregarder her in such a way. It truly showed how far Godzilla had fallen. Said titan was not done yet. "Those humans are dying today, Mothra! I am not gonna be convinced otherwise! And once I find Rodan, I'll kill him and that golden monstrosity! I am done with such insubordination!"

"We shouldn't-"

"Your input won't do anything anymore. The humans and Rodan have gone too far. I'll compromise with you on anything else, but not this. Those parasites have ruined everything! Rodan doesn't fucking listen while the bugs have been ruining MY WORLD! THEY ARE GOING TO FUCKING SUFFER FOR EVERYTHING THEY HAVE-"

"GOJIRA, BE QUIET!" Mothra screeched so loudly an so suddenly that Godzilla's mouth snapped shut. Her grand wings were spread out to make herself bigger while glowing a bright crimson. Her calm composure had finally shattered at the repeated interruptions and disrespect. "I will not be treated like one of your 'subjects' that you can push around with ease. I am your equal, Godzilla. Not your subordinate. Now, you will be quiet as I speak. Am I clear?" The warm voice Mothra was known for was now colder than ice.

All the anger Godzilla had been feeling vanished. Throughout the centuries of knowing each other, Mothra had never raised her voice in such a way, not even once. She was the level headed of the two. He was a raging storm that only calmed with her light. His vengeful and violent thoughts were starting to fade away as guilt slowly wrapped around his very soul. The betrayed look in his queen's eyes further strengthened the coils of the shame he felt.

Mothra took a deep breath to reorder her thoughts. "I have been by your side since this planet was created. It was never yours to begin with. The Earth does not belong to us, and it never will. We are the protectors. Not the owners. Not the rulers. Not the executioners. We have no right to get rid of what nature has created. Humans are inhabitants of this planet just as much as we are. They have the sharpest minds of any creature I have ever seen. They create things, Goji. Can you think of another animal who can build the things they do? To think that they are parasites is wrong. Yes, they have hurt the Earth. Yes, they have ruined the balance. Yes, they have tried to kill our kind and even you. But they haven't exactly done it on purpose." She had been glancing at the horizon while speaking. Mothra hadn't wanted to look at her long-term partner. When she noticed the lack of response from the lizard, she glanced at him. Godzilla had been struck siIent. He barely breathed as he looked at her with wide eyes.

With a sigh, she continued. "I doubt any human creates something with the sole purpose of hurting nature. They need guidance more than anything else. Our existence has been a horrifying discovery for the humans. They fear things they do not understand. They fear you especially. We can't communicate with them properly in order to show that we aren't their enemies. I have seen many humans show kindness and attempt to learn about our kind. In turn, I have done the same for them. What have you done, Gojira? Have you taken a single moment to try to understand the species that inhabit this realm? There is so much more to them than destruction. I am aware that there are humans who have done horrific deeds. They made a machine to kill you and other titans. They created a bomb that killed all the life on Rodan's island while nearly killing you. Who were the ones that saved you, hm? Who were the ones that sacrificed themselves to pull you from the brink of death? If they hadn't intervened, Ghidorah would have destroyed the world! You cannot say that all humans are parasites when there are so many instances when they are anything but. The ungrateful one is you. You are millions of years old and are antagonizing the species that has existed for less that a fraction of that time!" Her voice raised slightly at the very end. It pained her to have to use such harsh words to the being she had adored for eons.

Godzilla still had yet to utter a sound, so Mothra took it as her chance to speak about the subject that was plaguing her the most. "Over the years, you have antagonized everyone. So much so that I have become your only ally. I do not know what happened to make you start asserting your power over our kind. I slowly saw you become someone so power hungry that you were willing to kill innocent beings who you thought posed a threat. I let my own feelings get in the way of stopping you. I have tried to justify your actions in my head for so long, but I see that I cannot do that anymore. My intentional ignorance only served to help myself, not our people. We have lost so many friends, yet you still try to instill fear on the few titans that remain. They do not respect you, Gojira. You are astonished at Rodan's rebellious nature despite the fact that you have wronged him too many times to count. He is strong willed and will not give in to fear. You should know how reckless he is. I am astonished at how far you have gone to keep him in line. You eliminated the being he treasured the most. After you killed his kind, Rodan had no one to raise him except Quetz...She was powerful and apparently a 'threat' that had to be removed." Mothra spat the last word viscously.

Her wings sagged a little, and Mothra looked away once more. "I have a part in her wrongful death. My lack of action costed her her life. I will regret my cowardice for the rest of my life. Rodan has never looked at me or you the same way ever since...Do you know why Rodan switched sides so easily? Do you? Or do you just think Rodan became a 'traitor' for kicks and giggles?" The once powerful voice Mothra had started to crack. Her next words were spoken in a broken whisper. "He hates us, Goji. He hasn't been treated with an ounce of care of respect in centuries. Ghidorah, as shocking as it may be, saw him as the fierce warrior he was always meant to be. It is obvious why he would choose him over you...Why he would attack me so brutally...Why he has risked execution at your claws just to bring Ghidorah back..." She grew quiet for a long, long time. When Rodan had pinned her during the battle in Boston, she could see the amount of pain and anger Rodan's golden eyes held. It was the first time seeing him since coming out of hibernation, and he was not the same titan she once knew. The impulsive yet caring hatchling she had found one day had turned into a winged beast that only looked at her with pure malice. And she could not bring herself to be upset at Rodan in the least.

Godzilla attempted to speak, but found himself with no words to say. His normal response would have been to lash out and attack. However, this wasn't any other troublesome titan. This was Mothra. His Mothra. She has never sounded so angry, hurt, and disappointed in him before. The silence enveloped them. One now too guilt-ridden to speak while the other was in a state of shock and denial.

It was deadly quiet for what seemed like hours.

The silence was eventually broken by a voice they hadn't heard for over a millennia.

"You must have done something very stupid for my sister to be this upset and for me to be awoken. I wonder what it could be..." Battra spoke with a teasing tone that was underlined with a hidden threat. His dark red eyes narrowed at the silent king. Behind him, the last titans on Earth stood before them; Battra, Scylla, Behemoth, Methuselah, the Queen MUTO, Baragon, and Biollante. None of them were happy. Well...Except for one.

At the sight of the titan he thought he had killed, Godzilla's eyes widened almost comically. A wide smile appeared on a familiar face. One covered with green vines and sharp teeth.

"Hey, big bro! I can't wait to see how you've fucked up!"

This was going to be quite the reunion.

"Hey, Rick?"

"What is it now, Sam?"

"Is it normal for Isla De Mara to suddenly have a radiation spike?"

A pause befell the two scientists. Each had stayed late to try to figure out the disappearance of a dangerous titan and the reappearance of an even more dangerous titan. To say that they were stressed would be an understatement.

"Radiation spike?"

"Yup."

The older scientist took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. A headache had been forming for the past hour, and the sonographer desperately wanted to sleep. Now, he had to stay up for the rest of the night to look into the anomaly in the supposed inhospitable island. What else could go wrong?

"Also, I just got an alert that Kong is nowhere to be found."

Rick slammed his head on his desk and groaned in despair. His hands grasped at his white hair and pulled.

"Is this a bad time to mention that we're also out of coffee?"

"GODDAMMIT, SAM!"

San nuzzled Rodan's head for the umpteenth time. The three headed alien had yet to leave the pool of titan essence. His brothers had yet to return, but he had at least regained his missing tail and scales. The warmth of the pool and his birdie soothed his aches immensely. Being used to power that machine, unable to die, was the worst experience of his life. It was cold. So, so cold. He never wanted to be cold again.

"When do you think Ichi and Ni will return?" Rodan asked softly. He didn't mind the hydra's incessant need for touch, it was the opposite. After spending centuries hibernating in a volcano and being outcasted before and after said hibernation, it left the volcanic pteranadon feeling a sense of loneliness so strong that it hurt. His species were social creatures. Most titans lived in solitude and didn't form packs or flocks. Rodan had always seeked out the company of others. After his falling out with Godzilla, he never truly regained that sense of companionship again.

It was a large reason why the beaked titan enjoyed being with Ghidorah. Each of his heads had a separate personality. While they shared a body, they did not share a mind. Ni tended to be more aggressive and temperamental. He attacked first and didn't bother with questions ever. His impulsive tendencies led him to gain the most scars. The right head had a cracked horn and split lip. Ni was proud of the scars and bragged to his brothers about being stronger than them. Ichi was the leader of the siblings and acted as the eldest despite the alien hydra being born at the exact same time. Ichi tended to be calmer than his two brothers, but he would not hesitate to yell at them if they were annoying him too much. His patience was limited, but it was still more than what Ni and San were capable of. The middle head had the strongest hatred towards Godzilla for the treatment of his brothers. Ichi was protective of his brothers and did not take kindly to the radioactive lizard ripping off San's head. Speaking of the left head, San was the most curious of the three. He saw Earth as something to explore instead of destroy. He was the most willing to try any of the food Rodan brought. Additionally, he was the most affectionate with Rodan as well as his brothers. San was still capable of being ruthless when he wanted to, however. Out of the three of them, San was actually the most protective of their fierce birdie.

While Rodan had spent only a few days with Ghidorah, he had grown fond of them surprisingly quick. The alien was protective, but they knew that Rodan was powerful in his own right. He had missed them more than he thought he would in recent years. They had met in the past, but it was always during a battle or shortlived. Ghidorah would arrive on Earth, Godzilla would fight him alongside Mothra and any other titan who decided to help. This often included Rodan. The large hydra would retreat to space, come back, and it would repeat for years until Godzilla trapped the trio in ice.

A pleased hum left San's muzzle. "They seem to be more aware now. They'll likely regenerate completely soon." His eyes were closed in bliss. It was rare that the Golden Demise would feel such a thing as exhaustion or sore muscles. San did not enjoy feeling so...weak. He knew they were not supposed to be weak, but San knew better than to lie to himself and his brothers. They had been beaten badly at the claws of the Weak King and his infuriating entourage. The moth was a nuisance that had trapped them and given the stupid lizard immense power when the trio had incinerated her. She had pierced their birdie with a stinger that was filled with venom. Despite the years of battling her and her weak partner, Ghidorah had never noticed such a weapon. It made them unreasonable angry that the infernal insects would do such a thing, so they used their gravity beams to turn her into dust. It revived his well known opponent so much that all of their attacks were for naught. The dumb little creatures that had followed the titans around had also given the brutish king a boost in power. Not only that, but the annoying bugs had created a device that used cheap trickery to distract Ghidorah.

The next time Ghidorah would fight Godzilla, there would not be any cheap tricks that would aid the ugly reptile. No moth and no devices to help the king.

Ghidorah did not enjoy creatures who ruled over others. It was something the weak would do. And Ghidorah hated anything that was weak. The hydra enjoyed fighting, but not if the battle was rigged. While they usually won those unfair battles, it wasn't as fun. Additionally, the hydra had a special hatred for those that took control of the minds of others. While Ghidorah had done that himself, it was done to awaken the many hibernating titans. He didn't really control their every move because he was focused on other things like his birdie and defeating the old lizard. Ghidorah knew what it was like to not be in control of their own body. They knew how it felt to have every muscle move without their consent. The beings responsible are long gone now, but Ghidorah would never forget what they did.

A quiet chirp broke the left head out of his thoughts. Rodan had taken notice to how San had completely zoned out. San chuffed at the smaller titan to reassure him that he was alright. No other creature had ever cared for San accept his brothers. The three had always thought that they only had each other to rely on. This was true for most of their lives until a particular winged beauty came into their lives with a fiery passion.

They would both relish in getting revenge on the ones who wronged them. It would be a fight to remember.

At the thought, San purred and used his head to tuck Rodan close. It could take hours or even days for his brothers to literally come back from the dead. Until they returned, he was content to wait in the warmth of his fire bird.

Patience would be the most lethal weapon they'll need if they were to win.

And they would win.

#godzilla king of the monsters #gojira #mothra #monsterverse #rodan kotm #rodorah #rick stanton #san ghidorah #ichi ghidorah #ni ghidorah #king ghidorah #mothzilla #rodan #anguirus #kotm

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puzzledcretin · 8 days

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Dad said I'm grounded, wanna stay for pizza?

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @nights-flying-fox)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: Hop visiting your au!! Hop is the Dimension Hopper Leo AU Leo btw :3 I wanna see him interact with your sillies!! Hop masterpost Word Count: 1,455

Read On AO3

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Mass. I can’t bring you down to the Hidden City. Your dad said no. Now, I would love to bring you down to the city, you know that, but I really can’t do it.”

Massy frowned as a large hand came down on his head. He huffed, looking up at his Uncle Leo. Leo gave him a sideways grin, a mix of pity and something else.

“I don’t want to just.. Sit around and do nothing,” Massy muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his beanbag. Tossed around the floor was a bunch of Leo’s old comic books, they had been searching through them before for some storyline Massy remembered when he was little. But then Leo’s phone rang, and it seemed important.

“I’m sorry, Messy! You know what your dad said, you are grounded for a month following your little dimension hopping incident. Let me tell you, your dad is a hard-”

“I’m a what?” Mikey questioned as he stepped past Leo, carrying a laundry basket.

“You are a delight to this family and we all love you,” Leo responded, grabbing the knot of Massy’s mask. He jerked it to the side, covering up Massy’s eyes. Mikey scoffed lightly, but he smiled, waving his brother out.

Leo shrugged, “Sorry, kid. Maybe next time.” The slider gave a half hearted salute before he dipped out the doorway of Massy’s room.

Mikey shook his head, looking down at his son. He set the laundry basket down on Massy’s bed, looking to his son, “You better make your bed, got it? It’s nasty to sleep on mattresses without a sheet.”

“Dad..” Massy groaned, pulling the mask off his head as he looked up at his father.

“I know, I know. Spoons and what not, but I’m telling you that it would be more comfortable if you used sheets. And your bed would stink less,” Mikey explained as walked over to Massy. He crouched down, licking his thumb before he started to wipe something off of Massy’s cheek.

“Guh- Dad, come on, please?” Massy turned his head away, trying to push Mikey’s hands away.

“Fine! Fine, I will leave you alone. I get it, you’re a big boy now-” “I’m a teenager..”

“Yes, I know that. You will never let me forget it. But you were my baby boy once upon a time so let me have this, okay?” Mikey leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Massy’s forehead. Massy groaned, but a smile settled on his lips anyways. Mikey smiled, lightly poking Massy’s snout as he pushed himself back up to his feet.

“Uncle Raph is bringing pizza home from Casey’s hockey game, are you going to join us or do you want me to bring you a slice?” Mikey questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“No, no, I’ll join you. Now leave me alone.” Massy said dramatically. Mikey laughed, shaking his head once again as he turned on his heel

“Make your bed!” Mikey called as he walked out of the room, leaving his son back in his room.

Massy let out a soft sigh, pushing himself up from the beanbag. His fingers fidgeted with the fabric between his fingers. Massy pulled the mask up onto his head, playing with the tails. The comics were still spread out across the carpet, he needed to pick them all up before he got told to clean his room after making his bed.

The young turtle started to pluck them all up one by one, setting them on the desk. As he was gathering them up, the telltale woosh of a portal appeared behind him and Massy turned quickly with a grin.

He knew Leo would come back! Leo knew that Massy was able to hold his own, he would bring Massy along and-

Massy paused as he looked down to see a very familiar version of his uncle on his floor. The blue scarf was pulled up over his head, but Massy could recognize it clearly enough.

“... You come for more ice, Hop?”

“Massy!” The turtle on the floor very quickly pushed himself up onto his feet. He swayed a moment but then grinned, putting his hands on his hips. “Huh.. Actually, I didn’t mean to show up here…”

Hop stepped forward, looking down at the comics on Massy’s desk.

“Oh!! Oh, oh yes. I haven’t seen this one in a hot minute!” Hop shouted as he pulled the comic off the desk. He flipped it open, looking through all the panels with a small grin.

Massy cocked his head to the side, crossing his arms, “You know that one?” Massy asked curiously, sifting through the comics for a moment before he pulled out another one.

“Do you know this one?” Massy asked, passing it over. Hop lifted his head and looked over at the comic.

“Uh.. Yeah, yeah! I know that one. I never got to read how it ended because it was all burned up…” Hop muttered, setting the comic in his hands to the side and grabbing the one from Massy’s hands.

Massy hummed, the gears in his head starting to turn. His own uncle was once a dimension hopping turtle, and he said he sometimes brought back souvenirs. But his uncle says he hasn’t been out of this dimension since before Massy was born.

“... So, what have you been up to?” Massy asked as he moved to sit on his desk. Hop pulled his nose from the comic and grinned up at Massy.

“Me? Oh you know, what I’ve always been doing. I have found tons of other versions of me, though. We are kind of making a family thing. I keep telling them that we should swing by and pick you up, but honestly, your dad’s light show kind of freaked us out and kidnapping is not a charge I want on my rap sheet.” Hop explained, rolling his wrist.

“A family? .. Huh. Well, yeah, I shouldn’t really be joining any extracurriculars right now. I am grounded,” Massy explained, resting his chin on his palm.

“Yeah.. I mean, I want to say that I can’t believe it but I don’t know, I probably will be on some kind of house arrest when I get home too.” Hop noted, but then he shrugged his shoulders, “What have you been up to?”

Massy looked down at his desk, “Oh uh.. Not much, really. I mean, I’ve been writing letters to everyone but I realized I had to idea how I was going to send them,” Massy explained, picking up a stack of envelopes from his desk. “Other than that, I’ve been doing chores. And school, really. Not the most exciting life.”

“Delivery? I’m great at delivery! Hand it over,” Hop snagged the letters, “Do I have one in here?”

“You? Yeah, of course. It should be the blue one near the body, I color coded them,” Massy gestured to the stack.

Hop let out a small ‘ooooh’ before tucking them away in his fanny pack. He did pause to pull his own letter out, tucking that in a separate pocket.

“I’ll get to delivering them ASAP! And maybe I’ll come back with some. I’ll be an interdimensional postman!” Hop grinned as he turned back to his portal. Massy’s eyes widened, a frown coming to his expression as he realized Hop was leaving.

“You’re leaving already?” He asked softly, cocking his head to the side. Hop seemed to hesitate.

“I mean.. Yeah? I don’t mean to bombard your living space, you know? So, I’m going to head out..” Hop explained, gesturing back to his portal.

“Massy! Raph is home with the pizza, come on!”

Massy lifted his head, somewhat startled by his father’s voice coming from the kitchen, “One moment!” He shouted back. His hands fidgeted against the fabric on his arms. He let out a sigh, thinking for a long moment before he looked to Hop, “Join us for pizza? Come on, you’re like, the only friend I’ve spoken to since everything happened.”

Hop’s eyes lit up, setting the comic down on the desk. “Um.. Am I allowed? I don’t know if a version of me is going to appreciate uh… Me.” Hop gestured to himself, though he did glance over at the door.

“Hm.. I say you’re allowed. My family loves strays,” Massy joked as he pushed himself off the desk. Massy pushed his door open, gesturing for his friend to walk through.

Hop looked from the door to Massy, then back. He seemed to consider for a moment before he grinned and very quickly bounced through the door. Massy laughed some, following behind.

Luckily, his uncle bought a lot of pizza.

#tmnt #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmntwritefight #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #dimension hopper leo au #tmntstorycomp #tmntstorycomp masaccio

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scummrevisited · 5 months

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tumblr is NOT letting me answer this ask directly for some reason so i screencapped it HDFHDG anyways here goes

i vagguelly knew abt otherkin stuff beforehand but that was like. very vague and more in the lense of "eww cringe" bc that was all that was talked abt it

fast forward to me being 16 or so (maybe 17?) and i decide that today on www.tumblr.com im gonna go through the werewolf tag, and between all the art and poems abt werewolves i view a few werewolfkin posts and i go "huh.. thats interesting" bc i only vaguely heard of it but never really looked into it

so i dip my toes into it, and fall into the lake completely, and now im here

from which i will give some advice:

disclaimer: most of this advice comes from a psychological kin perspective, for spiritual stuff i can gather some info if you ask me but overall im not spiritual kin

1: sometimes the answer is not too clear, being alterhuman can stem from many reasons and overlap with many other things, furryness, autism, psychosis, spiritual beliefs, familiarity and importance to an animal or myth, a lot can play into it! for some beings, the experiences are very separate from each other, for others, they may cause each other or be linked or overlap, it can all depend and change around, so dont stress too much on whats what, but if you wish, you can play around and see what belongs to what, ive had the fact im a furry sometimes overlap with the fact im otherkin, and even fuel each other, but i still see them as separate identities, its all a big complicated soup. and i will say to just fuck around and see what labels you see fit

figuring out your kintype can take a while, and its not uncommon that what you first consider to be your kintype may not be the one that you actually feel you are. for example my first through upon discovering kin stuff was that i may be a cat, ive loved cats since i was practically born, ive always wanted to be a cat and themed myself around cats, hell my fursona is a cat! turns out im not one, ive tried and figured stuff out and experimented and well a cat just wasnt it. from this i'd just say to explore different animals or mythic beasts or types of robot etc etc

from that, what has helped me personally to figure out kintype stuff is to see what you desire feel and act, what kind of environment do you crave for? forests? mountains? deserts? theres a lot! what do you wish your body looked like? everyone talks about wanting claws and fangs and such but really think about it, what do you want for your body? what would make you happier? what would make you see your body more as your true self? any particular diet you have or wish to have? any behaviors you've derived from a being? maybe you hiss maybe you bark maybe you knead. do you feel limbs that arent there? such as ears? tails? horns? just look around outside and inside to see what you crave what you do what you want and such

one thing that i did while trying to figure out kin stuff was to just. draw how i view myself in my mind, and not concentrate on design or what i like and dislike on character designs, just like, draw what comes to mind on an "ideal body", you shift around features from the vague idea of who you are in your mind, draw different tails draw different snouts draw different body shapes, and see what fits and sticks, sometimes you can land on yes "thats exactly me", sometimes you can land on "its a vague idea of me but can aid me in figuring it out". thats kinda how it lead to me figuring out im primatekin, i had multiple different attempts and sketches of what i think i look like in my mind, and i just kept going until much trial and error later i found something. it went from "humanoid?" to "halfly animal-like" to "has a long tail" to "small and expressive" and eventually to a primate! (and thats how my mizamonkey design came to be QSHFHD). again for some this may bring a concrete design while to others it may be just a vague guide, not every tip works for everyone.

despite a few points ago where i stated that being obsessed with an animal or myth doesnt always equal to it being your kintype, it sometimes can be! and its sometimes how kintypes can originate to people (if we're taking the psychological otherkin route, this doesnt work too well with spiritual otherkin). sometimes youre just so obsessed and interested with an animal or myth or fiction trope that your brain kinda, adopts it for your identity. this is what happened to me for werewolves, since i was a wee lad ive been OBSESSED with werewolves and i read about them and drew about them and made stories about them that my brain has seemingly just. grabbed it and went "thats you". so look into your childhood or current state of living and see what animals and beings and such you connect with! again just as a few points ago, it doesnt always mean its your kintype, but it can be!

being alterhuman is different for everyone, i sometimes still think of this message i saw ages ago that went "ask 10 therians what being a therian means for them, and you get 11 different answers", so just because this otherkin experiences xyz, doesnt mean everyone does, and vice versa! i used to have a lot of stress about this bc i felt like i was a faker bc i didnt experience like others but after a while i managed to mellow out on it and its making me feel better!

related to that i would be careful about the resources you seek out bc from my experience seeking out resources has been a very 50/50, some tips and advice is great! while others are just why would you follow that. use your critical mind and see what suits you and what helps you.

this is more a personal opinion but i feel like the whole "choosing your kintype" debacle doesnt have a correct and concrete answer. to me if you were to just choose whatever kintype you want it may not actually be the kintype you feel like you are. i would absolutely choose to be a wolverine if i could! but it just doesnt align with my kintype and i cant force it as my kintype even if i tried. i would say that you can "try out" kintypes to see if it fits, its all about experimenting after all. its just that for most, its not as easy as pick and choose. its mainly bc your freely chosen kintype may just not be who you are, if you wanna choose a kintype either way, the community has adopted the term "copinglink" for such. for most alterhumans they did not choose their kintype. again its about trial and error

overall its going to be a lot of trial and error to figure stuff out. it took me 2 years to finally land on my proper kintypes! you may find kintypes and you may drop them. you may find yourself to not be otherkin after all! if you want more personal tips and questions you can message me here or on discord! (but i prefer discord bc tumblrs dm system is kinda cramped and buggy).

#dectalk anwsering

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journey-to-the-attic · 7 months

Text

3rd anni req 2: [DRAGON AU] mammon / first encounter

ao3 link

note: requested by @whensam! i have to admit, i was hoping this'd pop up. i know i can write what i want, but i always feel i need an excuse anyway. you didn't indicate a preference for pov and i also just ended up wanting to do both, so this is a little longer than expected as a result!

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

Baker's children don't make good hunters. We’re used to carrying sacks of flour, not sprinting across fields with pitchfork-wielding mobs in hot pursuit. We don't make good kindling, either, but that hasn't stopped about half the adults in the village - for shame, I'd say, if I had the breath to speak.

Here's the thing. Our village isn't exactly a popular spot by any definition of the term. We're too far from any big cities to make good business, we don't make much worth selling, and the people certainly aren't charming enough to warrant a detour.

More important, though, are the creatures we share land with. Through the grassland that border the crop fields, there are invisible lines drawn in the soil - ones that no one crosses.

These lines mark dragon territory, and everyone knows that a dragon would sooner eat you for breakfast than stop for a reasonable conversation. Reasonable conversation is not something I have the luxury of at the moment, which is why I’m already several hundred paces over the line.

Just fifty already takes you into the forest. I don’t hear footsteps in pursuit anymore - they’d have to be mad to follow me so far in, which is exactly what I'd been banking on. The issue now is that, rather than being pitchforked, or burnt at the stake, I’ll probably just get eaten instead.

I pick my way through rotting leaf litter and ridged roots before collapsing against an old oak, wondering if the moisture dripping from overhead is safe to drink - or at least to wash my mouth out with. Gnawing through rope seems like a clever idea until your teeth start bleeding.

I can’t stay here, I think. Dying now would be like letting them win. Then Dad will have smacked the alderman for no reason.

Just as I get back to my feet, something whooshes overhead. I freeze. Those wings were larger than any bird I’ve ever seen.

Surely it couldn’t see me through the leaves. I crouch low to the ground and try to hide in the undergrowth - the wingbeats disappear until all I can hear is distant birdsong.

At least they’re having a nice day. I duck my head and trudge through a hedge - and come face to face with a dragon.

“Argh!”

I leap backwards. Bad move. The sunlight falls across its pointed face just in time for me to watch its pupils expand into full moons, like a cat on the hunt.

It doesn’t pounce. It doesn’t charge, snap or growl. It creeps slowly, eyes fixed on me the whole way forward, as if making sure I know that I can’t escape.

Nowhere to run. I press my back against a wizened old pine and shut my eyes tight - throwing out an arm, as if that might shield me.

Nothing happens. Then something cold presses into my palm.

My eyes snap open. The dragon blinks down at me. Its eyes are such a deep shade of blue that it’s almost dizzying. Oh. Oh, okay.

Its - his? I wonder, noting the ridges on his nose - snout rests carefully in my palm. He seems to register me staring at him, and snorts. The hot air is just on the brink of scalding, but not quite enough to hurt.

Then, almost experimentally, he opens his mouth - a yawning chasm of teeth, poised as if to ever-so-gently bite off my head. Except he doesn’t do that. There’s no pain - no crunch of broken bone or split sinew - far from it. The dragon leans down, carefully hooks his teeth into the collar of my shirt, and takes off.

I’d have screamed if it wasn’t for all the air leaving my chest at once. The forest shrinks to a dark blanket beneath us faster than I can even register it happening, and I realise very quickly that I’d be dashed to bits if I so much as slipped.

Wyvern, says an unhelpful voice in the back of my head as we soar. The dragon’s white-and-gold wings blot out the sun, but they’re so brilliant that it’s hard to tell the difference. They’re good fliers.

Before long, the dragon lands - legs first, digging his talons deep into the soil as he skids to a stop. After a moment, he huffs, then (strangely gently) drops me in a heap on the stony ground.

There’s a rumble, a swoosh - then several thuds, a swoosh of wings. I watch a shadow fall over my field of vision, then slowly raise my head.

Oh, I think a little faintly.

All sorts of colours, all sorts of demeanours. One in particular steps forward - dark, with crimson eyes, and the sort of air about him that tells me he's the leader. Boss, I'll call him, if only to settle my own nerves. The dragon that brought me here (Goldie, I decide, still trying to settle my breathing) steps forward with a sort of chirrup in greeting.

It's a spectacle, if nothing else. Here are seven dragons, horns and wings and all. I've heard cautionary tales and horror stories, but they never really tell you how majestic they look in real life - scales shinier than any jewel I could imagine. Marvels of creatures, really. If only I had the wits to appreciate it.

Boss is growling now - there's a sort of heat rolling off him in waves. Some of the feeling coming back to my numb legs.

If only I knew what they were saying...

It isn’t often that the forest bears treasure - usually it’s all very boring things, like meat and berries and leaves. To be fair, Mammon's used to treasure of the shiny, golden kind - not this weird little critter crouched against a tree.

It smells faintly of smoke and burnt wheat. He stalks closer, but he's testing it more than anything - it doesn’t look like any prey he’s familiar with.

When he gets close, it sticks out a little starfish-shaped appendage and closes its eyes. He smells bitter fear now.

Is it greeting him? Telling him it isn’t a threat? That’s smart. He thought only dragons could be smart, but it’s not behaving - nor does it look - like any dragon he's ever met.

So he returns the greeting with his snout. He half expects to be stung, like the time Asmo brought that little spidery thing home, but all the critter does is look up at him fearfully.

Interesting. On a whim, he scoops the little round thing off, and decides to take it back home.

The weird not-prey goes still as soon as he takes off. Once home, he lets it disembark (drops it on the floor, though he tries to be gentle), then looks up to face his brothers as they land around him.

The others decide to keep their distance. Lucifer is the first to plod forward and investigate.

He sniffs carefully at the air, then makes a crackling noise somewhere at the base of his throat - which isn't usually a good sign.

“That’s a human, Mammon," He says, glaring at the little critter. It’s still sitting, frozen.

“It’s a what?”

“What’d you bring that for? Stupid.” Belphie settles back on his haunches, blowing out a puff of frost. “Can’t go around snatching humans. We’ll get hunted. Stupid.”

“Shut up,” He grunts. “And I didn’t snatch it. Found it walkin’ around in the forest.”

“That’s impossible,” Satan says nearly immediately. His tail swishes back and forth - slow and deliberate, an analytical glint in his clever eyes. “They don’t let their young anywhere near us.”

“Well, whaddya call this, then?”

The human - apparently - suddenly seems to regain use of its limbs. Springing to its feet (Levi shrinks back, crest flattering over his head), it stumbles for a moment, then abruptly ducks under one of Mammon's wings.

The rest of his brothers - who'd similarly drawn back - relax again with a simultaneous murmur of vague confusion. Mammon blinks. Then his tail starts flicking at the end - like it always does when he's pleased.

“...you are not keeping it,” Lucifer says, looking as if he'd very much like to fly off into the sunset.

“It might have a disease!” adds Asmo.

“I don’t care what any of ya say,” Mammon says stubbornly, snapping at Beel when it looks like he might creep in for a bite. “I’m not sendin’ it back to the forest. It’ll be dead in a day.”

"It might be dangerous," Levi hisses. "It's totally giving me the evil eyes."

"Stop scaring it, then,” Mammon says loftily. “Relax, ya big baby - You’ve got teeth bigger than its whole head.”

“You are not keeping it,” Lucifer says again, as if repeating himself will make him sound more in charge.

“Pfft. Can’t tell me what to do.” He snaps at Beel again. “Oi! No bitin’! Go raid your stash or something.”

Beel’s horns seem to droop a little. “...fine. C’mon, Belphie.”

“I was busy,” complains Satan with a huff as the twins flap off. "This is boring. I've seen deer carcasses more interesting than that weird little thing."

"Go look at your stinkin' carcasses, then," Mammon shoots back, fighting the impulse to spit something at him.

Satan does exactly that. Levi soon slinks off as well, apparently still intimidated - and Asmo seems to have disappeared as soon as he decided the human wasn't going to make a good accessory.

Lucifer, meanwhile, stands his ground. His tail is beginning to lash in agitation. If Mammon’s lucky, maybe he’ll even start spitting fire.

“I'm not gonna eat it,” He says stubbornly.

“I wasn't going to tell you to,” Lucifer replies, but he sounds very much like he’s considering it. “Belphie was right. If a hunter sees us with one of their young, they’ll take it as a threat.”

“Like we wouldn’t win,” He scoffs, sitting down with a thump. "Anyway,don't ya smell the fire on it?"

A single scarlet eye narrows a little. Evidently he hadn't - though Lucifer's always smelling smoke, by virtue of the literal furnace in his chest, so he can't really be blamed for not noticing.

The human is peeking out from beneath his wing with a little more bravado now. Lucifer eyes its round little face as if it might start spitting poison at him.

"...humans don't usually try to set fire to their young," Lucifer says after a moment. "You're sure she doesn't have anywhere to go?"

"Wouldn't've been in the forest if it— uh, she did." He glances down. "C'mon! Not like we don't have the space."

Lucifer is silent. Then he gives a long-suffering sigh - sending a plume of dark blue smoke into the sky - and bends down to the human’s eye level again.

“Will you behave?” Lucifer asks her severely, as if she can understand dragon-speak.

The human child blinks up at him. Then she reaches up and plants a hand on his snout.

Mammon holds his breath. After a moment, Lucifer’s wings flutter, then settle.

“I’m not having any part in this,” He announces, stepping back. “This is to be your responsibility only. Don't make any trouble for your brothers. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He says dismissively, occupied with keeping his triumph from showing in his tail. Got it.”

Lucifer glances down at the human one final time. “...take care of her.”

And off he flaps - to attend to his usual nighttime duties. He says he's keeping watch for danger, but mostly they seem to involve gazing darkly into the sunset.

With his brothers dispersed, Mammon takes a moment to actually consider his situation. He doesn’t actually know what taking care of a human child involves. He doesn’t know much about humans in general - it’s not like he usually pays them any attention. Maybe some of his brothers could give him some advice… if any of them were interested in the kid’s well-being, at least.

They’ll come around, He decides after a moment, unfurling his wings and attempting to nudge the human in the general direction of their living caves. First, I gotta figure out what these things eat…

#3rd anni event #obey me #writing #dragon au #i mentioned this in the ao3 notes but it's crazy to me that it's been two years since dragon au started #like woa. time passes #jtta aus #obey me mammon #jtta ik #obey me brothers #(won't tag the others individually since they're not as prominent)#whensam

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mama-qwerty · 6 months

Text

Gone to Ground

Couldn't help myself.

“Don’t you give me that look!”

The furrow in Knuckles’ brow deepened and he uttered a soft growl as he peeked at Callie from his hole in the dirt. He blew out a little puff of air from his nose, sending a small cloud of dust floating away from his snout.

“And don’t you growl at me, either. Get your butt outta that dirt and talk to me like a man.”

“NO!”

He disappeared underground again, a small mound appearing in a line as he dug to a different area. Old Looney Tunes shorts came to mind, of Bugs Bunny burrowing through the soil and leaving a trail of displaced earth behind him.

Callie uttered a frustrated grunt. She hated when he did this. Whenever he was mad at her, he went to ground. She normally didn’t mind when he dug—he was an echidna, after all, and that’s what they do. Well, Earth echidnas, anyway. Knuckles seemed to sport many instincts and behaviors of the Earth creatures that bear his species name, but she was always surprised when a new one popped up.

But this time it wasn’t for enrichment or entertainment. He was doing it to piss her off.

And it was working.

“Damnit, echidna,” she muttered, fast-walking to the hole he’d just disappeared down. She went to her knees, and peered down into the crater. “Knuckles MacPherson! You get out of there, right now!”

“NO!” The refusal was muffled, the dirt absorbing his deep baritone. “You come in here and face me!”

An angry grunt. “You think I won’t?! I’ll go get the shovel right now and dig you up like a rotten potato! How would you like that?”

“Do it!”

Another grunt, and Callie pushed herself to her feet, stomping heavily around the yard. She had no idea where he was, and truly no intention of actually digging for him and he knew it. And the fact that he knew it pissed her off worse.

“Look, I’m sorry I threw away your little stick dolls!” she called out, crossing her arms as her brow furrowed. “I didn’t know they were important to you.”

The ground trembled to her right and a red-quilled head poked up again.

“They were not dolls!” he growled, his lip curled in a snarl. “They were totems of protection! To keep you safe when I’m not here!”

She turned, throwing her arms wide. “I didn’t know that! I never would have touched them if I knew they were an important part of your culture! You need to tell me these things, kid!”

He blinked, the snarl fading into a look of confusion.

“My culture? Echidna do not need protection totems. We are mighty warriors, such things are unnecessary.”

Callie blinked back, reflecting his confused expression. “Then why were you making them?”

“Because he said you would like them.”

“He?” Her face cleared as realization hit. “Sonic.”

Knuckles nodded. “He said they were a sacred Earth custom. Especially if you use very old sticks, and make them look as unpleasant as possible. Then you place them in locations that allow them to watch over the one to be protected. Usually in shadowy corners, inside closets, or on the back of shelves.”

She let out a long sigh, massaging her forehead with a hand. Of course Sonic told him that.

“Knux, hon . . .”

She sighed again, and curled a finger in a ‘come here’ motion. The boy cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing as if expecting a trick, but climbed out of his hole and came forward anyway, shaking off the bits of dirt that had stuck to his fur and quills.

“Did I misunderstand?”

“No, sweetie,” Callie said, sitting on the deck steps and patting the spot next to her. Knuckles sat, giving her a slight look of confusion. “It’s so sweet of you to want to make sure I’m protected. I’m really touched.”

He nodded slightly, the furrow in his brow deepening. “But?”

She pulled her lips tight. “But, what Sonic told you wasn’t true. While I’m sure some cultures do indeed have some sort of protection totem, it’s not exactly a custom known all over the planet. And it’s certainly not one I follow.”

The furrow deepened further. “He lied.”

“He lied,” she said with a nod.

“I will destroy him,” he said with a growl, fists clenched. “I will feed him his own quills. I will break his legs, then his arms, then punch him in the face so hard he’ll—”

“Hold on,” Callie said, placing a hand on the boy’s arm. “I’m sure he was just having some fun. No need to go all sparky throw down.”

“But he—”

“He played a trick on you. Not exactly a ‘beat him to a pulp’ offense. Besides, that would have Maddie here ripping me a new one, and I do not want to be on her bad side.”

He seemed to think about this before giving a small nod. “Fair. So I should simply be the bigger person and let it go?”

A little smile tugged at Callie’s lips. “I didn’t say that. He wants to play, we can play. Maybe he’s the one who needs some protection totems. As ugly and disturbing and creepy as we can make them.”

Knuckles blinked at her for a moment, before a little smile curled his lips. “Agreed.”

#knuckles the echidna #sonic fanfiction #callie macpherson

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crystalninjaphoenix · 1 month

Text

Deeper Through the Wylderness

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Forty

A JSE Fanfic

Who's ready for more Wyldwood? :D The guys continue their journey, encountering a few strange things. Unusual animals, unusual fruits and plants, unusual beings, even. They're making progress, but this strange place might wear on them over time. Yeah this chapter, much like the last, is basically an anthology of weird things that the guys encounter in this magical forest. But next chapter, if all goes according to plan, will be VERY important to the plot :3 Hope you guys enjoy reading!

Previous Part | | From the Start | More AU | Read on AO3: CrystalNinjaPhoenix

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marvin was woken up by the familiar feeling of something fuzzy against his face. He stayed totally still. The best way to get Draco to stop doing something was to ignore him. But the fuzzy thing persisted, pushing against him. He couldn’t help but groan. “Draco, nooo.” He rolled over, but the fuzziness climbed over him, sniffing at his face. Keeping his eyes closed, he reached out, trying to push Draco away... but felt something odd. The texture—that wasn’t fur. It was more like... feathers?

Mrow. And that was Draco’s meow—coming not from right in front of his face, like he expected, but instead from over by his feet. Draco wasn’t here?!

His eyes flew open. Instead of seeing Draco’s blue eyes and off-white stripes fur, he was staring into a pair of Hazel animal eyes surrounded by orangish-red, its black snout longer than a cat’s—

“What the fuck?!” Marvin shouted, scrambling backwards.

“Huhwhatdanger?!” Next to him, Jackie sat bolt upright, lunging for his swords.

Henrik yelped awake, blinking wildly. Chase was next, lifting his head from the ground. JJ was already awake, though he was blinking blearily.

“Fox!” Marvin said. “There’s a fox!”

Indeed, a fox had wandered into their camp in the Wyldwood... but not an ordinary fox. Its front legs were more in line with bird legs, tough-skinned and taloned, feathers sprouting along the upper length. On its back were a pair of large wings, brown and black striped. It leaned forward, trying to sniff Marvin some more, and Marvin quickly scooted backwards.

“Oh! I know what that is!” Chase sat up, wriggling out of his bedroll. “That’s an enfield!”

“Enfield?” Marvin repeated, puzzled. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Is it safe?” Jackie asked, raising one sword in preparation.

“Um... as safe as foxes are normally, I think. Don’t bother it and it won’t bother you.”

The enfield stepped forward again, and Marvin continued to crawl backwards away from it. “Why does it want to sniff me?!” He hissed.

“Maybe you smell interesting?” Chase guessed.

Henrik frowned. “How did it get close? Jamie, I thought you were on guard.”

Jameson rubbed his face. I was... I remember hearing this strange flute music. And seeing something... small? Out there? He gestured at the woods around them. The music was trying to put me to sleep, I think, but I threw a rock at the small thing and it stopped. But I still felt really sleepy... He shook his head. I don’t think I actually fell asleep but I must have been really close if I let a fox with wings through. Sorry, everyone.

Jackie sighed. “It’s fine. There was no harm done, I guess. But in the future, we should wake someone else up if something like that happens.

Jameson nodded slowly... his head drooping...

“Jair! Wake up.” Marvin grabbed some magic from his amulet and flicked it at him. He only intended for it to be a shower of sparks. But instead, clouds of bright light slammed into the side of Jameson’s head. He shot straight up, eyes wide, immediately not tired anymore. “Oh—sorry. That was supposed to be a simple wake-up spell, like the one I sometimes use. I suppose it came out a bit stronger than I wanted.”

It’s fine, Jameson said, hands shaking slightly as he spoke. The spell must have shit him full of energy.

The enfield trotted over to Jameson and started sniffing him instead, licking the fading magical light around his head. Jameson looked at it warily. “I think it must be interested in your magic, Marvin!” Henrik chuckled.

“Great. Great.” Marvin clutched at his focus. “Good to know. Be interested in something else.”

Jackie looked around. The group had made camp in a slight clearing in the Wyldwoods. Trees surrounded them—of course—these ones with bark that was so dark brown they were nearly black, which contrasted with the leaves that were a pale pink color. The pink leaves covered the ground in a soft layer, so soft that Chase had inched out of the bedroll over the course of the night and hadn’t even realized that he was on the ground. Large flowers with purple petals and centers the size of dinner plates also dotted the ground, glowing softly. “We should probably start moving, shouldn’t we?” Jackie said. “We don’t want to waste any time.”

Henrik sighed. “I suppose. Though this is a beautiful area. I am reluctant to leave. Where else will you see pink trees like this?”

“Well there’s going to be more amazing things to see as we go deeper,” Marvin said, still eyeing the enfield suspiciously. “I promise you.”

“I know, I know. I am not saying we get lost in the pretty landscape. I am just saying it’s a shame.” Henrik stood up. “Let’s go.”

The group packed up their supplies into bags and headed off, Marvin and Draco leading the way. The enfield trotted after them for a while before some smaller enfields with little fuzzy wings ran up to it—Its children?! Adorable!—and then it diverted its attention to herding them, letting the group leave them behind. This was the morning of their third day into their journey, and if everything went well, they’d only have four to five days left. Almost halfway there! Chase wasn’t sure if he was excited about that, or nervous. Both, probably. No, definitely both.

Just as the last couple days, the Wyldwood was silent, the undergrowth mysteriously moving out of their way as they walked. Two days straight of this meant they were starting to get used to it—which meant some of them were starting to get restless. Jackie constantly wove back and forth through the group, taking up a position on the left before moving to the right a few minutes later, his hand always on the hilt of his sword as he glanced around uneasily. Henrik’s eyes also darted back and forth, and he couldn't help but occasionally reach back to check that Vsevna’s axe was still there. He occasionally muttered something under his breath in Alterdan. Were his symptoms bothering him again?

Jameson kept practicing his fighting skills as they walked, slashing with his knife for a while before reaching back to grab the bow he’d packed and practicing firing it. Chase watched him do that, smiling a bit. “I don’t think practicing without an arrow is all that helpful.”

I suppose, Jameson said, awkwardly gesturing while still holding his bow. But it’s probably not a good idea to shoot wildly in a magical forest. Remember the screaming flowers?

“Ah. Riiiiight.” Chase winced. “The trees might not take kindly to being shot. Well, at least let me help you with your technique. Here, hold the string like this...”

They soon left the section of the Wyldwood with pink trees, and the colors of the trees slowly shifted. The branches began to droop downwards, their dark green leaves becoming long and skinny. For once, it became difficult to walk through the area, as the tree branches didn’t move out of the way like the undergrowth did. Jackie quickly got frustrated with this. After one too many times of being hit in the face with leaves, he growled and pulled out his sword, swinging it wildly. “Out of the way! Out of the way!”

“Whoa!” Marvin’s head whipped back around to look at Jackie. “Hey, calm down!”

Jameson grabbed onto Jackie’s shoulder, trying to stop him. Once he’d gotten Jackie’s attention, he signed, We don’t want to hurt the trees!

“Well what if the trees want to hurt us?” Jackie asked.

THEN we can do something! But we shouldn’t make the first move!

Jackie growled, glaring at the branches around them. “Fine. But still, we’re losing progress.” He gave his sword one final, frustrated swing—

Smack!

Jackie went still. “I, uh... I hit something... solid.”

Frowning, Henrik walked over, grabbing the branches and sorting through them. His eyes went wide. “Oh! Look at this!” He turned the branch around. There was something shiny attached to it. A fruit of some kind. It looked like a plum, but its purple skin was reflective and crystalline, like it was a jewel.

Chase gasped. “Oooo!” He looked around. “Are there any more of them?”

“Let us see!” Henrik continued to search through the branches, and the others joined him, curious about these strange crystal plums. There weren’t many of them, maybe three for each tree, but they stood out for how strange they were. “So fascinating!” Henrik said, eyes lit up. “Can we pluck these? Eat them, maybe?”

“Hmm.” Marvin narrowed his eyes. Then he bent down and picked up Draco, holding him up to one of the crystal plums. Draco sniffed it, then turned away, uninterested. “Well I don’t think they’re dangerous, at least.”

Jackie sighed. “Alright... we can take a break to look at these.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re not curious!” Chase said, grinning. “When are we going to get another chance like this?”

“I just... I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Jackie shook his head. “Alright. What are these things?”

Jameson is trying to pull the plum off the droopy branch, but its stem is really strong. He pulled out his knife to slice through it, but even that took a minute. Once the plum was free, though, he turned it over in his hands, tapping it. This is practically stone, he said.

“Well plums are stone fruit,” Chase said jokingly.

Marvin blinked. “They’re what?”

“Huh? You’ve never heard that phrase before?” Chase grabbed one of the plums; Jameson was right, the fruit’s skin felt more like glass than fruit. “A stone fruit is a fruit that has a pit in the center instead of seeds.”

“Really? Interesting.” Marvin looked at one of the plums still on the branch. “So these are... literally stone fruit. Or, more like crystal fruit.”

“How do we eat them, if they’re made of crystal?” Jackie asked.

“Maybe we do not?” Henrik said. “Or maybe it is like nuts. They must be cracked open. Here, Jackie. Since you are so concerned about moving, we can take some off the trees and examine them while we walk.” He took his bag off, reaching inside. “Let us put some in my potion supply box for safekeeping.”

They continued walking, pushing aside some of the drooping branches. Occasionally one of their hands would hit a solid crystalline plum. Chase took out his hunting knife and tried to find a weak spot in the solid skin. He was pretty sure there was something inside. He could feel it when he shook the plum. But the whole thing was solid, deflecting his knife like a regular bauble made from jewels.

When they walked out of the grove of droopy-branched trees, Henrik immediately started looking around for a rock or something else to smash the plum with. But... “Huh. I am seeing something unusual. There... are no rocks anywhere.”

“Oh! That’s right!” Marvin nodded. “I didn’t notice the first time I was here. But there aren’t any random rocks or stones anywhere like there would be in regular forests. The undergrowth is all plant life.”

“Aw. But then how will we open these?” Henrik asked, disappointed. “If they can be opened at all.”

“Use Vsevna’s axe,” Jackie suggested. “It has that spike on the end, maybe it could pierce the skin?”

“Hmmm... perhaps.” Henrik stopped walking and bent over, placing the plum on a spot clear of long grass. Then he pulled Vsevna’s axe off his back. He aimed the spike on the back at the plum, a hand’s width above it, and narrowed his eyes as he concentrated—then brought it down.

Crack! There was a loud sound and the plum went spinning off to the side. A spray of bright red juice covered the ground—and Henrik’s legs. He yelped in surprise and backed up. Jackie laughed. “Well I don’t think any of us expected that!” He said.

“We probably should have,” Henrik grumbled. He walked over to the plum and picked it up. There was a crack in its crystal side, through which dripped that bright red juice. Unnaturally bright red, almost pink even. “Do you think this is safe to eat?”

“Who knows?” Chase said. “I’d be cautious.”

What does Draco say? JJ asked.

Marvin picked up the cat and held him up to the plum again. Draco leaned forward to sniff the juice. His nose wrinkled up and his eyes narrowed. “That’s not a guarantee of anything,” Marvin said. “He makes the same face when smelling that linseed oil Jackie and other warriors clean their weapons with. I think he just thinks it’s a strong smell.”

Henrik sniffed curiously. “It is very sweet. Almost like candy. Hmm... Perhaps we should not eat it.”

“Why were you so insistent on getting it open, then?” Jackie asked, exasperated.

“Just to see if I could, honestly.”

Jackie sighed. “Well now it’s probably going to leak juice everywhere. And maybe it will rot. We don’t want to carry rotten fruit around, even if it’s magical. “Here, just... Give it to me.”

Henrik did so, though he was a bit reluctant. “Are you going to do something foolish?”

“Possibly.” Jackie swiped up some of the juice with his finger and stuck it in his mouth.

“Wait Jackie no—!” Chase lunged over, grabbing Jackie’s wrist and yanking his hand away from his face. But it was too late. “What if it’s poison?!”

“Draco would’ve stopped me,” Jackie said. “Marvin said he would stop him from eating dangerous... um... stuff. Like... fruit and... stuff.” Jackie’s eyes slowly widened. Not as a response to how he was feeling or anything. It was almost like they were being pulled wide by invisible hands. A pink film glazed over his irises.

“Oh no,” Chase whispered.

How do you... feel, Jackie? Jameson asked hesitantly.

Jackie looked at him. “You’re glowing,” he said slowly. He looked at Marvin. “And you’re like... like really bright. Like really glowing. And whoaaaa, Draco looks strange.” He giggled. “He’s a ghost. Ghooost cat. Glowing ghost cat.”

“Oh elders, it’s like he took amarita blossoms,” Marvin muttered.

You’ve met someone who took amarita? Jameson raises an eyebrow.

“Not anyone who took them regularly, but I’ve been on the run for the last year, practically, I’ve met a lot of people.”

“Guys guys guys, it’s not a problem.” Jackie kept looking around. “It’s all good, it’s like—so good. I feel great, and whoaaaa... pretty.”

Henrik sighed. “Damn it. If only I had my medicine I could snap him out of this really quickly. I suppose we will just have to wait for him to come down normally. He had a small sample, surely this won’t last long.” He took the plum out of Jackie’s hand. Jackie didn’t react at all, spinning in a circle so he could look at everything. “Let’s keep walking.”

Luckily, the effect of the crystal plum didn’t hinder Jackie’s ability to walk—though he did slow the group down a bit because he kept stopping to stare at random spots in the air. But after about two hours, the pink film faded from his eyes, and he stopped looking at stuff. He mumbled some apologies to everyone, but they all assured him that it was okay—though Henrik and Chase did point out how foolish it was to try juice from a magical fruit. Even if Draco didn’t intervene, that didn’t mean they were safe!

Nothing else of note happened on that day. They continued to walk through the Wyldwoods, occasionally swapping stories and memories to pass the time, always listening for sounds that would break the silence. Sounds like rustling, like distant voices, like footsteps that seemed to pass right by the group but without any sign of a person or animal. All of those happened at least once during this day. When they did, the whole group went dead silent for a minute before continuing to talk.

They made camp near a lone hill in the middle of the forest. Though it might have been an advantage to camp on top, where those on guard would have a good view of the surrounding area, none of them dared to get too close. The Fair Folk were said to live under hills. Not always literally. Some stories said that the hills were merely an entrance to a Faerilynd, the world where the Folk gathered. Either way, a lone hill in a magical forest probably wasn’t safe to get close to. Who knew what it could be? They settled down between two tall trees nearby, keeping an eye on the hill but not approaching.

“Maybe we should have two people keep guard,” Jackie suggested as they set everything up.

But then if we keep going in our shifts of three, eventually someone will be woken up again, JJ pointed out. Everyone will have only one shift, but someone will have to have two.

“I’ll take two, it’s fine.”

“No, nobody is taking two shifts at night,” Marvin said firmly. “We all need to be in the best shape possible in case something happens.”

“But—but there was that incident with the party!” Jackie protested. “And this morning, the enfield was able to just walk right in! We need to take precautions!”

“We do, but we need to take care of ourselves too,” Henrik said.

Chase frowned. “Is this because of the fruit thing? Jackie, it’s okay. I know me and Henrik already gave you shit for it, but it’s in the past. And hey, now we know what those plums do, don’t we? You don’t need to make up for an impulsive decision.”

Jackie slumped. “I... I just...” He looked to the side. “I thought that... we’d need to see what they do, didn’t we? Because what if they were harmful?”

If they were harmful then it was even more foolish to taste one, Jameson said. You could have gotten hurt.

“Well—better than losing our doctor or our guide or our oracle or the guy who needs to make it to the end of this journey!”

“Jackie,” Henrik snapped. “Are you implying you are expendable?”

“No,” Jackie said. “Honestly, no. I know I’m not. I’m a Masked Phantom leader and the best physical fighter here. But I...” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Marvin stared at him silently. “Just remember that we don’t want you to get hurt.”

Jackie nodded. “I will. I’ll be more careful, promise.”

“Please do be,” Henrik said quietly. “Now... Let us all get some rest.”

Little did the others know, but Jackie stayed awake as long as he possibly could, one hand out of his bedroll, clutching the hilt of his sword.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the group woke up in the morning, the hill was gone.

“Well that is worrying,” Henrik muttered. “Marvin? You had last watch, what happened?”

“It just sort of...” Marvin held up a hand parallel to the ground, then slowly lowered it, like he was pushing something down. “Sank.”

“When???” Chase asked, concerned.

“Not too long ago, actually. It was surprisingly silent.”

The whole group looked at the space where the hill was, unnerved. We should walk around that spot, JJ said.

“Agreed,” Chase said.

They started walking again. This section of the Wyldwood had trees with reddish bark, occasionally streaked with lighter, almost yellow stripes. Tall bluebell-like flowers sprouted from between their roots, their soft glow joined by specks of light that floated through the air. As the group brushed past them, the flowers made ringing sounds, like the bells their shapes were named for.

“Do you remember all of this, Marvin?” Henrik asked, fascinated with the flowers.

“I remember it when I see it,” Marvin replied. “Honestly, the whole first journey I had was so strange that it all sort of... blended together into an overall oddness. But now that I’m back in here, I do know where to go and recognize some of this. I didn’t recognize those crystal plums yesterday. But maybe I just didn’t see them. They were pretty hidden in those branches.”

“And... there are truly no records of the Wyldwood at all?” Henrik asked.

“None in recent memory, and no records of anyone going this deep,” Jackie said. “You should know this, Henrik. I know you’re from another kingdom, but you’ve lived here for years now. You know that the Wyldwood is dangerous.”

“Yes, but people make records of going into dangerous places all the time,” Henrik said. “And this is half the island!”

I suppose having the Dragon’s Teeth mountains as a barrier dissuaded exploration, Jameson mused. I’ve heard of other Wyldlands in the world that are more explored. Wyldsands, Wyldmounts, Wyldmarshes... I can see why you’re surprised that there aren’t any records.

“I think that part of the reason people avoid the Wyldwood is because of the Fair Folk,” Chase said. “After all, people say that those who didn’t retreat to their own world live here now.”

“You know a lot of stories, right, Chase?” Jackie asked. “Do you know any about the Fair Folk or the Wyldwood?”

“Hmm... well there are a few,” Chase said. “For example, the story of Lasta and Caba is said to take place in the Wyldwood. Supposedly, when most of the Fair Folk decided they wanted to leave this world for their own, two of them, a leprechaun and a bodacha, refused to stop playing their card game to help the others move. So they were cursed to keep playing forever, never finishing the game. Supposedly, if you join in, you have a chance to win some sort of prize. But be careful, because time outside of the game will pass faster than time around you and them.”

“Fascinating,” Marvin said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one.”

I think I’ve vaguely heard something like that, Jameson said. I remember the bit about time passing differently very distinctly.

“Well, time being different around the Fair Folk is common in stories,” Chase said. “There’s also the one where a man falls in love with a beautiful Fair One. A princess or prince.”

“There are two versions of the story?” Henrik asked. “So... does that mean it is not true?”

“No, it could be that it happened a long time ago and the details of the Fair One got lost over time. Or maybe the Fair One was both. Who knows? The point is, the Fair One invited the man to their palace for a night of partying, but when the man returned after one night, a year had passed.”

Jackie glanced around nervously. “Do you think that... that same time strangeness affects the Wyldwood?”

Marvin shook his head. “No. I walked through the woods for a week, and when I was out again, a week had passed for everyone else.”

“Oh right. I forgot about—” He paused. “Do you all hear that?”

The group stopped walking, listening for strange sounds. In the otherwise silence of the Wyldwood, it stuck out easily. A thundering sound. But not actual thunder. Was it... hooves? From a horse? Chase frowned and looked at the others, noticing as they all came to the same conclusion around the same time. “Strange...” Henrik muttered. “Where is it coming from?”

“Get to the side,” Marvin hissed. “Out of the way of any open paths!”

They all scrambled to get close to a tree, away from the open parts of the Wyldwood. In the distance, something dark was forming, quickly approaching—

Jameson gasped and fell forward, sprawling across the ground. Jackie spun around. Without hesitating, he ran towards Jameson. The dark thing was suddenly much closer, streams of orange-red light streaming from it as it got closer—within a second it was bearing down on them—

“Jackie!” Chase gasped.

Jackie dove at Jameson and the two of them went rolling across the ground. The dark thing galloped past them, inches from their bodies, smoke and light following it in a trail. It looked like a horse and rider but something was wrong with the rider: he was missing something. By the time Chase realized what it was, the creature was already galloping into the distance.

“Elders!” Jackie breathed, visibly shaken.

Henrik ran forward, and Marvin and Chase were right behind him. “Are you two okay?!” Henrik asked.

“I-I’m fine,” Jackie said. “Jameson?”

Jameson raised his head. His eyes were wide enough to see the white all around his irises, but he nodded. Shaken, he said weakly.

“Wh-what happened?” Marvin asked. “Did you trip on something? What was that thing?!”

“I-I think that was a dullahan,” Chase said.

“A what?! Aren’t those an omen of death?!”

“Huh? No, th-that’s not what I’ve heard about them. Though they are often linked to it... h-having no head, and all. And they, uh, often show up where people died, I-I think?”

Henrik shuddered. “So... someone died here?”

“I have no doubt that a lot of people died in the Wyldwood,” Chase muttered.

Jackie sat up, one arm wrapped around Jameson, bringing him upright as well. “Are you sure you’re okay, Jameson?” he asked gently. “What about your foot? Did you twist your ankle when you tripped?”

“Hmm... I thought the plants were making way for us,” Henrik said, frowning.

Jameson laughed silently, darkly. It wasn’t a plant or root or anything. I just... tripped on... my own foot.

“...ah.” Henrik blinked. “...well that is... unfortunate.”

I suppose I was thinking too much about moving, if that makes sense? Jameson sighed. I’m not hurt, though.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Jackie stood up, and reached down to help Jameson up. “Are you good to keep walking?”

Are you? Jameson asked.

Jackie laughed. “Of course I am. Come on. We have to keep going. Ideally, away from where that dullahan went.”

And so, with nothing else to do and nobody hurt, they just... kept walking. Until, eventually, it was time to settle down for the night once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day passed normally—or as normally as things could be in the Wyldwood. They continued to pass through vibrant trees and grass, surrounded by glowing flowers, glowing mushrooms, and occasionally glowing insects. Henrik was quickly getting overwhelmed with the variety of plants, and quickly running out of room for samples in his potion ingredient box and other bags. He soon learned that he couldn’t take all of the glowing plants. Some of the samples from the first day had stopped glowing—though not all of them—so he exchanged those for others.

Draco kept walking steadily through the forest, occasionally waiting for the humans to catch up. Chase still wasn’t used to him acting so... smart. But it wasn’t like he was acting oddly human. He was still clearly a cat, with the same mannerisms and behaviors. When some glowing blue dragonflies showed up, he chased them, tail wagging, just like any other cat would. But still... it was odd that a cat was leading them.

Chase’s thoughts started to swirl, thinking about what was waiting at the end of this journey. At this blasted heath that Marvin mentioned. He asked Marvin to tell him everything about what he saw there again, and Marvin told him all he remembered. There was a building in the circle of dead earth, along with some strange trees. The ghost of King Samuel said that this was related to something unspeakable—something that literally couldn’t be spoken of. Something that Chase needed to find out for himself, something that would help them defeat the King. It was frustratingly vague.

He wasn’t sure if anything he’d find in the Wyldwood could help him defeat the spirit possessing the King... but he had to try, didn’t he? He had to help Jack. And so, he kept going on, despite the doubts trying to worm their way in.

Another day of walking passed. Their fifth day. They were almost there now. Just two more days of walking... or was it only one and a half? Maybe a little more than that? Would they have to walk for two days, rest for the night, and then walk a bit more in the morning?

“Hey... Marvin.” Jackie glanced around as the Wyldwood around them started to grow dark. “Maybe we should walk through the night. Or... a little bit into the night, I should say.”

“Huh?” Marvin glanced back at him. “We never walk through the night when traveling.”

“I know, but that’s because it gets too dark to see where we’re putting our feet,” Jackie explained. “With all the glowing things in here, it never gets darker than what would be evening outside the Wyldwood. We could probably keep walking.”

Henrik frowned. “I... wonder if... if there are creatures that come out at night, here. A-after all... that strange party happened at night. The music that Jameson heard, too. And the hill disappeared during the dark. It may be dangerous.”

“It... i-it may be,” Jackie agreed slowly. “But we could protect each other. I... I think the faster we get there, the better, right?”

The others all glanced at each other. Perhaps we can walk a bit more? Jameson asked.

“I really think it is not a good idea,” Henrik insisted.

Marvin looked down at Draco, who was stretching and yawning. “I agree. I think we’re supposed to stop for the night.”

“Just a bit farther couldn’t hurt,” Jackie said. “Chase? What do you think?”

Chase hesitated. “Um... just a bit farther, maybe? Ten or twenty more minutes?”

Henrik and Marvin looked at each other and sighed. “Fine,” Marvin said. “If all three of you want to keep walking for a bit, you take the majority. But... let’s be careful.”

Jackie nodded. “We will be. I’ll lead the way.”

They kept walking. Draco didn’t want to continue, so Marvin reached down and scooped him up, carrying him as they went along. The trees around them rustled, and Chase glanced up into them uneasily, instinctively searching for animals that weren’t there.

After the twenty more minutes of walking that Chase suggested, the group came across something... unusual. A... path. The sort that was worn into the ground from people or animals walking in the same place over and over. It dipped into the earth slightly, the dirt a bit muddy.

Marvin frowned. “I remember this. It was daytime when I came across it the first time. I didn’t want to cross it, but Draco had no problem, so I walked from one side to the other easily enough.” He looked down at Draco in his arms, whose eyes were currently closed. “Hmm... don’t know if I’m comfortable walking across it when he’s not there to make sure it’s safe.”

Chase looked back and forth, tracing the path to the left and right. Then he crouched down to look at the dirt, trying to figure out if there were any tracks in there. No good. Despite the mud, he couldn’t make out anything clearly. “I don’t know if this is a deer trail or a wolf pack or something magical,” he reported.

Jameson blinked. Is it just me or is the air... shimmering?

Chase stood up, and he and the other three guys all stared at the air in front of them. Yes... it was shimmering slightly. Like the air above a heated rock. As they stared, things became clearer. The air was moving. No, not the air. They were... people? Translucent at first, becoming more and more solid, glowing slightly. Jackie backed up, holding his arms out in front of the others as if to push them back as well. But there was no need for that, as everyone was scrambling backwards away from the glowing strangers.

“Wh-what is this?” Henrik whispered. “Are you all seeing this as well?”

“Yes, Henrik, we are,” Marvin confirmed. “Who are these people? What are they?”

They watched silently for a while, tense and waiting. But the glowing people didn’t bother them. They looked at the group, a few waved, but they didn’t stop their procession to attack, or even to speak.They just kept walking. And just as the group started to relax—

Jameson inhaled sharply. He ran forward, running along the path, eyes locked onto something. “Jair!” Marvin gasped, running after him.

“Wait you two!” Jackie rushed after them, and Chase and Henrik glanced at each other and followed.

Jameson came to a stop, staring at some of the people. A man, looking to be in his forties, walking with a woman of the same age, their arms linked together. The woman was smiling and laughing at something, and the man nodded.

“What is it?” Marvin asked, shifting Draco into just one arm and putting a hand on Jameson’s shoulder. But Jameson didn’t even bother to look at him. He just kept staring at the man and woman. What was so special about—

The realization hit Chase all at once. The brown shade of the man’s hair, the shape of the woman’s face, the blue of both their eyes... they both looked a bit like Jameson. And as the man and woman noticed them, the man raised his hand. There was a ring on his finger. A signet ring of some kind. “...oh,” Chase breathed.

Jameson was shaking slightly, trembling beneath Marvin’s hand. Behind the couple walked three others. Young women, all around the same age. The eldest walked in front, auburn hair shorn short. Behind her was a woman with her hair pulled back in a tight braid, a pair of fancy riding pants, the sorts nobles wore for long horse rides. And behind her in turn was the youngest, her light hair curling, smiling as she skipped along. She looked at Jameson and waved.

“Oh... oh no,” Henrik whispered.

Jameson’s mouth formed words, but of course, no voice came out.

And then Jackie’s eyes widened. “G-Grandmam?” An older woman was walking along the couple, using a cane to support herself, bent over with deep lines on her face.

“Oh!” Marvin started. “There! Isn’t that Miarch? H-he was—we lost him s-so early on... A-and there’s Kieron, and Ilsa, and...” The people he was pointing out all had white plaster masks with them, on their face or hanging from their belts.

Chase tore his eyes away from the procession. It was clear now who these people were, and he didn’t want to see anyone he’d known.

But Jameson... he started to step forward.

“No!” Henrik lunged forward, grabbing the back of Jameson’s shirt. “Do not get too close!”

Jameson spun on him. Why not?! he demanded, eyes welling with tears.

“We do not know what will happen if we touch them,” Henrik reasoned. “What if we... what if we join them? Jamie, please tell me you do not want to join them.”

That seemed to get through to Jameson. He blinked, then shook his head. Of course not. I just... He turned back to the procession. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them. Mam and Dad... Emer, Orla, Mairead... those are their names. He spelled them out in handspeak so that the others would know what to call them. I never got to...

Chase took a deep breath. He walked over to Jameson and put an arm around his shoulders. “Well... this is the time to do it, isn’t it?”

Jackie and Marvin were also staring at the people they recognized in the procession. Henrik, like Chase, is trying not to look, though his eyes can’t help but glance back every so often at the ones with white masks. But they all hear what Chase said. “Y-yes... th-this is the time... to say goodbye,” Jackie whispered.

“I-I don’t think we should actually say anything,” Marvin said quietly. “Just in case... that starts a conversation we... don’t want. W-we don’t know how they’ll... react to us.”

Jameson shuddered. As much as I don’t want to stay silent... you’re right. Best to be cautious. We don’t know what effect the Wyldwood would have. He looked after his family. They seemed... happy. As they waved at him again, he waved back, a slow, sad farewell.

And after a moment, Jackie, Marvin, and Henrik all waved as well. Chase saw no one he recognized... and he didn’t seek them out.

After a while, the friendly faces disappeared down the path. But the procession didn’t stop. They watched them continue appearing, walking left to right, an endless parade. “We... we shouldn’t interrupt them,” Marvin whispered. “Let’s... go back and make camp.”

Jackie nodded. “I-I’m sorry I made us keep walking.”

Don’t be, Jameson said. You didn’t know this would happen. And... maybe it was a good thing, in the end.

“...maybe,” Jackie said quietly. “Let’s... go.”

The group turned and walked back the way they came, setting up their bedrolls around a large tree. The procession was a slight glow in the distance, a line of light. They went to bed, said their good nights... but none of them fell asleep. They all knew they were watching the procession. Watching it until exhaustion caught up to them.

As Chase drifted off, he reflected on who he saw in the procession. The Masked Phantoms. Jameson’s family. Were others in the procession... because of the King as well? Or... because of the spirit possessing Jack?

...He would remember them. Remember why the King must be defeated.

There would be no more of them. Not if there was anything they could do about it.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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rjzimmerman · 2 months

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youtube

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

Tiny snouts and long tails. Checkerboards of black and brown scales. Eggs the size of oranges cracking alongside hatchlings mewling and chirping like a choir of baby birds.

The birth of 60 Siamese crocodiles in the wild last month was all very Jurassic Park.

The hatchlings were the largest population born this century, representing two decades of conservation efforts. While the babies slipped and waddled through their trio of nests, their marble-like eyes blinked upon a bright new world for a species once nearly as extinct as the dinosaurs.

“There’s a biodiversity crisis around the world, but in the tropics of Southeast Asia it’s particularly acute,” said Pablo Sinovas, the country director for the Cambodia program of Fauna and Flora, the conservation group monitoring the comeback. “The fact that we’ve been able to help these crocodiles recover and see this landmark breeding event, it’s very significant.”

Siamese crocodiles were first listed as virtually extinct in the wild in 1992. While captive populations lived in zoos and crocodile farms, decades of poaching of the animals for their soft, coppery hides that were used in the fashion industry, along with habitat degradation, had razed the wild population.

In 2000, a very small population was recorded in the remote Cardamom Mountains of Cambodia. The Indigenous population of Chorng people had protected the crocodiles, which they considered sacred, for generations. The species is smaller and less aggressive than its saltwater crocodile relative, and there is no recorded evidence of attacks by the animals on humans, including people who wash clothes and children who swim in the rivers the crocodiles call home.

For the last two decades, Fauna and Flora has worked with government agencies and local people to formalize species protection through a program that provides a modest stipend, along with work clothes, GPS devices and transportation like kayaks and motorcycles.

“The community members already protecting the sites is key to why this program works,” Mr. Sinovas said. “Instead of a group coming from the outside, we’re supporting what’s already there.” At last count, a very rough estimate of 250 adult crocodiles persisted in Cambodia, according to Fauna and Flora, and between 500 and 1,000 existed in the wild, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature.

Siamese crocodiles “are a charismatic, large predator, so they naturally fascinate humans, and they have cultural importance,” Mr. Sinovas said, noting that their conservation could have ripple effects.

#Siamese crocodiles #Cambodia #Youtube

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darkhymns-fic · 3 months

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The falling snow tells us, our love makes us strong

Months after escaping Welgaia, Lloyd Aurion and Colette Brunel are on the run from Cruxis. But a brief rest in Flanoir has them considering an important question: Why not get married?

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Altessa, Pronyma, Genis Sage Rating: T Word Count: 11,232 Mirror: AO3 Notes: It's Colloyd Day! So here is the art and fic collab me and @frayed-symphony have been working on for our Cruxis Lloyd AU. More notes about this fic are on the AO3 mirror. Thank you to everyone who joined in on today's event too! ✨

When they had arrived at Flanoir, it was the very first time that Lloyd had ever seen snow.

They hadn’t had much time to really explore the area, already searching for an inn. That and Lloyd had been looking at every passerby with suspicion. It was routine for Cruxis to instill agents into towns, but none gave them more than a passing glance. It was just the two of them, like any couple visiting for a holiday—or perhaps any pair of travelers embarking on a pilgrimage.

He thought he could even see the spire points of a cathedral, far ahead…

“Hey, Lloyd!”

He turned, a little wired from their travels but trying to shake it away. “Huh?”

“Here!” Colette giggled as she held out her cupped hands to him. Within those hands was snow she must have gathered as they walked into the town, pure white and just so cold. He could see her shiver from the touch, but she seemed to relish it. Her smile was ecstatic, the flush on her cheeks as pretty to him as the sunrise on this world.

Tentatively, he held out his hands, accepting the snow from her as it slid down from her palms to his. “Uh, what do I do with it?”

“You can use it to make a snowman. Or even a snowball!” She tilted her head, looking at the drifting flakes around them. “At least, that’s what the child from before told me, hehe. I don’t have much snow where I come from either.”

Lloyd looked down, already feeling so cold that his hands were becoming numb. Even though he still wore his gloves, his Exsphere winking from its place on the back of his left hand, he could still feel the chill wind cutting through the fabric—and still feel the warmth of Colette’s cheeks whenever he touched them.

He grinned, packing the snow more firmer between his palms. “I think I read about this once. You gotta make it like this!”

And before Colette could ask him, Lloyd had somehow made the snowball into a doggy-shaped snow sculpture instead. It had a snout, two floppy ears, and even a tail, indicated by the small nudges in the snow. It had been carved with dextrous fingers, its simplicity belying the little details Lloyd had accomplished with it.

“Wow! How did you…?”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Lloyd said with a smile, then carefully handed it to her. “It’s…probably gonna fall apart if you so much as breathe on it, but it’s for you!”

The little doggy did look as frail as anything, already a few flakes off the top of its head blowing along with the wind. But Colette held the snowdog carefully in her hands, cupping it just so that it could be safe, as well as comfortable.

Lloyd couldn’t help but be in awe at her consideration for what was just a silly thing he made. He chuckled slightly. “You don’t have to be that careful, Colette. I don’t want you to have to keep that thing around while we walk.”

At his words, Colette raised her head, blinking curiously. “But you made it for me, Lloyd. I’d like to keep it for a little longer, if that’s okay.”

Lloyd instantly flushed. Now he worried that he sounded like he was blaming her for her caution. “I mean, you still can! Just… uh, never mind.” Sometimes he still spoke so awkwardly… and maybe it was because someone like Colette was right in front of him, caring for something that wasn’t even a living creature.

She smiled at him, holding up the snow doggy, marveling at the little details that were already in danger of melting away. “He kinda looks like the dog you have… Noishe, right?”

Lloyd swallowed, remembering Noishe, shocked almost at how much he missed those high whines of him. “Heh, yeah. I guess I was thinking about him.”

Colette nodded. “Me too.” Her gaze lifted to the far south, past the snow-coated stairs that led further into town. “I heard this place had some famous ice sculptures. Maybe we can put Snoishe there and he can be with friends!”

Lloyd almost hadn’t caught it, waiting a full three seconds before asking Colette, “Snoishe?”

“Oh!” Colette giggled and flushed as well, the redness in her cheeks matching prettily with her hair. “Hehe, that’s what I named this little doggy. Is that too weird?”

“No way! It’s…it’s cute.” Lloyd brushed away the snowflakes from his hair, feeling it grow damp. Or maybe he just needed something to do with his hands. He could always make another snow dog. “Want to see those ice sculptures then?”

And as they climbed the stairs, Colette still holding her precious doggy charge while Lloyd made sure she wouldn’t slip on any icy surface, he couldn’t help but feel warm, even in such a cold place.

He hoped they’d stay safe here, at least for a little while.

Because it was only just a few days before, when they’d have to lay low within a strange home carved into the mountainside within the dark, hoping no one would track them down.

Hoping Cruxis had long lost their scent and was now searching for scraps of their existence.

Lloyd remembered heavy footfalls coming through the open door, his nerves still on high-alert. But Colette’s hand in his grip didn’t tighten, didn’t flinch at their visitor. He willed himself to calm down, raising his head towards the dwarf.

“Is it alright to come near?” asked Altessa.

“Uh, yeah,” Lloyd answered. He tightened his fingers around Colette’s, feeling nothing back. Both of them sat on a bed, the guest bedroom a generous offering from their host. “She won’t do anything.”

And how many people could Lloyd say would ever take in those such as them; a boy who knew so little of the worlds below, and a girl who couldn’t speak, couldn’t laugh or cry, but only gaze ahead?

The dwarf entered the room, his eyes hidden beneath heavy brows, his beard trailing nearly to the floor. Back in Welgaia, Lloyd had never seen a dwarf, had barely even known about their existence except in books. But ever since he and Colette had escaped, Lloyd had seen so many things, so many different people that were not just the impassive faces of angels.

He looked to what Altessa was holding in his grip. “What is…”

It glinted in the lamplight. At first glance, it looked like a necklace, but the characters written into it were so ancient that even Lloyd could barely read it. A looped chain trailed from the fashioned piece of metal, the links made in it so miniscule. It seemed that even a good tug would rip the thing apart, but Lloyd recalled what Kratos told him about dwarven craftsmanship.

“The Rune Crest, by what you and that girl from Mizuho were able to give me. The old Key Crest still lives on in this.” Altessa held the accessory facing upwards, and Lloyd remembered the red jewel that had been a part of the Key Crest that Colette used to own. He couldn’t help but notice how the jewel was the same color as Colette’s eyes...

“It was still very good work, with a strong foundation and a knowledge of the craft.” Altessa gave a nod, or Lloyd assumed he did. It was hard to tell through the thicket of hair that made up much of the dwarf’s face. “But without the right ingredients, such a necklace would have only stalled the inevitable. Was it yours?”

Lloyd hadn’t expected the question, momentarily stunned as if he had been struck over the head. “Uh–I, um…” He looked away, rubbing a thumb over Colette’s skin. “Another dwarf made it. Back in Sylvarant. His name is Dirk. I don’t know how to make things like that.”

Dirk had also been one of the first people Lloyd had met since escaping Welgaia. A man with a loud laugh, a shorter beard than Altessa’s, but his eyes had been more open, more friendly to his and Colette’s plight despite barely knowing them. He was also an old friend of Kratos.

How did dad even meet a guy like him? But it was a question he wasn’t getting an answer out of anytime soon. Kratos had been gone, continually trying to throw Cruxis off their trail. There had been no guarantee if he’d even see his father again, a father he still felt he barely knew.

Lloyd rubbed a hand over his forehead, feeling dizzy. Feeling oddly alone. Because Colette still wouldn’t hold back his hand.

“Ya haven’t eaten or slept in hours, boy,” spoke Altessa once more, his voice as gruff as rocks being grounded to a fine dust. “Let Tabatha treat you to some dinner, and I will work on affixing the Rune Crest.”

“Huh? But, I’m fine.” Yet even as he said it, he was already swaying, losing his balance, and—

And Colette held onto his hand, swiftly. To keep him from tumbling to the floor.

Lloyd stiffened, suddenly so wide awake. Any of the fatigue had vanished with a faint hope that was already lightening his chest. He quickly turned to Colette, who sat on his left side. “Colette? Are you–?”

When they had left Welgaia, they had only the clothes on their back. Seeing Colette against the soft lantern lights that hung from the wooden beams overhead, she still wore her Chosen outfit, white trimmed in a light blue that turned dusky in the atmosphere. Her hair still held a golden shine, and her other hand was placed limply over her lap.

Yet even as she held onto Lloyd, Colette only continued to look ahead, her eyes steeped in red emptiness. Her wings, also, were framed behind her like a faded stained-glass window.

In every other aspect, she didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She sat there, frozen, like a sculpture.

Had it only been reflex? Was it foolish for him to think it had been more? Lloyd felt the sudden hope in him melt away.

He felt another hand press against his shoulder, roughly. Fingers kneaded through the fabric to grab his attention. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Colette just yet.

“Does this mean she’s still in there?” he asked Altessa.

The dwarf took a moment to form his answer. That silence was already enough to tell Lloyd what he thought. Still, he spoke, “Many who succumb to their Exspheres react on their motor skills alone. She also has that ancient sickness.”

Lloyd knew what he meant. The patches of green crystal were still present on her, reaching up to her cheeks. It had worsened since when they first met.

There was always a chance that Altessa’s craftsmanship might not be enough.

“Go now. Or you will distract me from my work.”

You’re useless here. Lloyd heard the meaning between the words. He couldn’t deny it.

Lloyd stood up finally, letting go of Colette’s hand. Her fingers slipped from his so easily, her hand going to join with the other in her lap.

Maybe it had just been reflex, after all.

Lloyd left the room, his stomach hurting, and only hoped that Altessa could cure all of their problems.

It wasn’t long after they visited the ice sculptures, and Colette had placed little Snoishe next to one that was called Bigfoot, (and seemed kind of intimidating… Did these kind of monsters really live on the worlds below?) that Lloyd noticed something. Even though they were still outside, the snowfall not lessening, and the chill continuing to make them shiver, Colette started to take off her gloves. First by the top right of her left hand, pulling at the fabric until it was free.

When they had left Welgaia, her crystallis had worsened, taking over that certain hand completely, encased in glass that looked in danger of breaking into pieces at any moment. Though she kept up her smile, it was clear that she was in pain, her fingers too stiff to even move, the skin always threatening to crack.

But now her hand was clear of any crystal. She could flex her fingers into her palm. The only memory of the crystal left were a few lines of scars here and there, a dim pale white against peach.

With both ungloved hands, she cupped them to her mouth, breathing out. To warm them.

He must have stared for too long, for she caught his gaze, her head raised and her blue eyes catching the brief sunlight that could pierce through the thick clouds. Her smile made him waver a bit, made him clear his throat as he tried to cover up the embarrassment.

“Hey, um, if you’re too cold we can go inside somewhere,” he said, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as it sounded in his ears. “We can try staying at one of those inns you mentioned before.”

Colette once again moved her fingers, blowing out another warm breath that turned to mist in the air. She paused, looking at her hands with curiosity.

This got Lloyd to worry, a frenzy of thoughts rushing through his head. Was there suddenly a lost sensation? Did the crystal sickness come back? He walked up to her before he could think. “Colette?

And then, without any hesitation, she reached for his own hand, clasping his right together with both of her own.

Lloyd stopped, flushed deeply, but said nothing else.

“I really am cold,” Colette said, but she said so with such joy that he could feel it in the way she gripped his hands, and could see it in the turn of her smile. Snowflakes caught onto her eyelashes, only some of it falling away with a blink. “And I’m so, so glad. I also feel my own breath when I try to warm them, and I can feel you now! I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to again…”

They hadn’t really talked about it before, their rush from Altessa’s home before Cruxis could find them again overtaking their thoughts. But Lloyd rushed a thumb over Colette’s own, feeling her shiver, then clasping their hands more tightly together.

“I promise you’ll never have to go through that again.” Another brief gust of wind blew past them, whipping up their cloaks around their bodies. Lloyd shuddered a bit at how the cold bit at his ears. “And, I think we should definitely head inside somewhere. I don’t want you to suddenly get sick just after getting your sense of touch back.”

Colette giggled, taking his grip more firmly, entwining their fingers together while she let one of her hands fall to her side. “Can we keep holding hands as we walk? If that’s okay.”

Lloyd did all he could to not grin like an idiot, but by the stretch of his cheeks, he had already failed hard. He didn’t care. “Heh, yeah, I’ll keep you warm then! You can count on me!”

If he had been back in Welgaia, someone (like Kratos) would have told him to tone down his voice. How one didn’t need to shout, or show such emotions so freely. But Colette absorbed his excitement with a glow on her face, giggling along with him as they went back to the stairs that led to the different levels of the town.

Lloyd tried to recall where the inn was exactly. Didn’t we pass by it before? He was about to lead them down, until Colette gave a little tug with their interlocked hands.

“Hey, Lloyd. Do you see that? It looks so beautiful.”

She was looking upwards, just past a lamppost they were standing under, the light inside its glass container flickering. He followed her gaze, past the light, blinking away the snowflakes that flurried around them both.

It was only then that Lloyd suddenly realized how close they were to that cathedral, its spires reaching high into the rapidly darkening sky. Though it was up another flight of stairs, he could now clearly see its architecture. Dark stone cut walls that steeply climbed, its rooftops covered in several inches of snow. But what made it fascinating were the myriad of colors that reflected off its many windows. From sharp crimson to ever gentle green, and what little left of the sunlight making such colors shimmer before them.

It was beautiful, and yet also so familiar. In Vinheim, Lloyd was sure he’d seen such similar designs too. He saw the shapes of people pass by it, some going through its great double doors, hearing the wood creak.

“I know what it is now,” Colette spoke softly, catching his attention. She kept their hands clasped, even as she looked further away at the structure. “There’s another church similar to this back in Sylvarant, so grand and wonderful. A place where you could pray to Martel. I know it’s made by Cruxis, but…”

Lloyd heard the strange note in her voice, a mixture of emotion he wasn’t sure he could identify. Sadness? Or pain? Maybe even anger at all the lies Cruxis had fed her all her life? “Colette… If it’s too much, we can leave this place. We’ll find another town to rest in.”

“No, that’s not…” She shook her head. He noticed how the flush rose in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Lloyd. But, it’s not that I’m unhappy seeing this. It’s, well, it actually reminded me that I wanted to ask you something…”

He didn’t understand just yet, but he wanted to. He wanted to learn more about Colette, as eager as a starving man stranded in the wilderness. Because that’s what all these years had felt like without her; empty and weary, but her face broke the pattern of the gray stillness he had long been used to.

Maybe it showed in Lloyd’s face, his desperation, until Colette’s eyes met with his. She held his hands gently, as she did with that silly snow dog he had made, unaware he had crafted it in the shape of Noishe. Is Noishe okay with Dirk? he asked himself, remembering seeing his dog, once his only friend, comfortable in the makeshift stable the dwarf had created for him, as if the place had always been his home.

Then, Colette lifted up his hand, still encased in his glove. It had been too cold for him to remove it like he did with hers. He wasn’t used to this weather, to the changing seasons as with everything else that made up both Sylvarant and Tethe’alla.

She held up his hand by the fingers, his knuckles then pressed against her lips. She did it softly, the warmth of it rushing through the fabric, making his chest tighten and his heart beat rapidly. Suddenly, his face felt hot, despite all the snow.

It took him a moment or two to realize that she had just kissed his hand. He didn’t even know what to say.

Back in Altessa’s home, underneath the night sky, he had also felt this same sensation when she…

Underneath the softly flickering lamplight, as the snows fell around them both, Colette finally asked her question.

“Keep her hidden,” Kratos had told Lloyd on his brief visit—so brief, Lloyd could barely remember if his father had mentioned anything else. “And don’t bring attention to yourself.”

On Welgaia, before they had made their escape, Lloyd had rarely left his room. He made sure to keep the door locked, and to sneak away food from the nearby supply machines. Arms full of gels, of fruits and vegetables, and other packaged assortments that he had never seen another angel ever eat. But just like with the coffee from before, he shared such treats with Colette, who stayed huddled in the blankets of his bed.

Lloyd tried to get rid of the nervousness of having another person in his room, messy as it was. Just his bed and some sparse furniture, along with a few plants he had focused on to grow underneath artificial lights. She didn’t seem to mind though, especially as Noishe had nuzzled her cheek with affection, his tail wagging at the excitement. It was probably one of the first times Lloyd had ever seen Noishe not balk or whine at the concept of a new person hanging around.

Colette, sitting on his bed and wrapped in blankets, had been busy scratching behind Noishe’s ears before Lloyd relayed her the news. The crystal over her arm had slipped past her sleeves. She unconsciously pulled it back down, hiding it from sight.

“Mr. Kratos was here?” she had asked him.

“Yeah…for a little bit.” He scratched the back of his neck, taking a roll of bread from the stash he brought, and taking a big bite from it. “I don’t know what he’s up to though. He never really tells me anything if he can help it.” He swallowed, then offered the other half of his meal. “Want some?”

Colette nodded, her own bites a small nibble in comparison, as if she didn’t want to intrude too much on this offered food item. She made a curious noise in his throat. “This tastes a little strange…”

“Huh? Is it bad?” He was sure the bread hadn’t gone stale… It physically couldn’t, unless the machine was broken.

“No, not bad… just different. Maybe because it’s not made the way our bread is back on Sylvarant.” She tilted her head. “Or…are my senses being strange again?”

Lloyd didn’t know. If Kratos was still here, he could have probably asked him, but his father never stayed in one place for so long. “It’s probably because it’s, uh, synthetic? I think that’s the right word. Hey, I can just get us more food though!” With a quick gulp of a gel, Lloyd got up, then wagged a finger at Noishe. “Don’t eat the gels, Noishe. They’re bad for you. Too much sugar!”

A soft plaintive whine, followed by Colette giggling besides the furry creature. “Can I feed him some of these sausages then?”

“Well… just a little!” Lloyd answered as if he never snuck his dog a pile of sausage slices himself. “But try to stay quiet in case anyone’s around. I’ll be back!”

Colette nodded, smiling at him. “Okay. You be careful, too.” She said so while still wrapped in his blankets, her hair shining brightly, even in the dimness of his room.

He had only known her for a few days, keeping her in his room. She had slept for so many hours, catching up on the rest she had sorely missed during her sickness. She saw her yawn a bit, and was certain she’d take another nap again.

No one else had ever slept in his bed before. Noishe didn’t count.

Lloyd left quietly, letting the door, powered by magitechnology, whoosh past him to slide shut. He left the hallway, finally making it out of one of the many empty buildings for the supply machines.

Welgaia had always been a place filled with silence, the air charged from remembered encounters. It wasn’t like Lloyd talked with people every day—sometimes not even for weeks at a time. The entire population was filled with other angels who barely spoke, who barely moved a muscle, letting their wings take them where they needed to go. They never even needed to blink.

Lloyd brushed past some of these angels, who conversed with each other only when it concerned with their duties (“Lord Yggdrasill has stated retrieval of the Chosen as our top priority.” “The warp pad is currently at 70 percent efficiency. Repairs are forthcoming.”) Few barely gave him a glance. It seemed these angels weren’t given the information that it had been up to Lloyd to find the Chosen.

He was so glad none of them had the capacity to be curious enough to ask.

His wings dissipated as he flew towards a platform for a familiar machine—one that should work and not be close to breaking down like a few others. Lloyd always wondered if all the machines suddenly stopped working, would he just starve? No one else seemed to ever need to use these.

It won’t matter once we leave, he thought, fiddling with the buttons and dials, until he felt a presence near him.

He didn’t even need to hear her speak to know who it was.

“You again.”

Lloyd, with half an orange gel in his mouth from his latest stash, turned around quickly to face her. Keep an eye on your surroundings, Kratos had told him. If his dad had been watching right now, he would have given him a failing grade.

He had met Pronyma enough times, as she tended to visit Welgaia. The lady was hard to miss. Her attire did all it could to make an entrance, the fanning blades of her armor now enclosed around her, like a shield of metal. But Lloyd knew if anyone got close enough, those same blades would reach outward, impaling anyone who came too close.

Lloyd didn’t remember this exactly—but Kratos had mentioned how at seven years old, he had nearly gone too close to the woman, wandering to her in curiosity. Kratos still sported a scar across his forearm when he had shielded Lloyd quickly from the attack. “Said she never liked children,” Kratos had said, his tone completely humorless. Even though it had happened years ago, Lloyd had never seen his father so quietly angry.

She wasn’t as close to him now, but her dark eyes, painted in kohl, riveted onto him, as well as onto the several gels he was holding in his right palm. No one really hung out around the food dispenser he was at—he was still one of the only people here who regularly ate food. Or gels.

Then again, Pronyma wasn’t an angel. Does she actually use these?

“You… need something?” Lloyd mumbled in confusion, still chewing on his gel.

At that, Pronyma snorted in disgust. “So, you still talk with your mouth full, I see.” Then a smile, her lips cutting across her face in a dark line. “Lord Yggdrasill is truly so merciful.”

It was more than just her words—her tone was biting into him. But Lloyd held back any remarks he was tempted to make. Kratos had told him not to, that and the gel did effectively keep him from talking too much.

Even after all this time, Lloyd knew so little about Pronyma, or what exactly her role was besides being a Grand Cardinal. It was also so rare to see her on her own, usually so attached Yggdrasill’s side, like some loyal dog.

And like a dog, she obeyed her master’s commands, punishing Lloyd to the fullest. His side still ached from the last time.

Frustrated she was still here, Lloyd pointedly turned away. “I have to go,” he said.

He didn’t see her expression, but her tone did all the imagining for him. “Oh? Does this mean you actually have your other duties to attend to, besides stuffing your face? Or that you will finally do what Lord Yggdrasill has ordered of you?”

Find the Chosen. Find Colette. And bring her to Lord Yggdrasill.

He would never follow through on that last command.

Gritting his teeth, he turned back—and that was when Pronyma moved a fraction closer.

Lloyd did all he could to not relinquish any space to her. She was his same height, but her demeanor made her more intimidating than even Yggdrasill at times. “Each of Lord Yggdrasill’s servants have their tasks. You’d do well to remember that.”

He never understood why she seemed to hate him so much.

At that point, Lloyd couldn’t help it. “I’m not his lackey,” he said, and that unlocked even more from him. “I’m not like you!”

He inwardly winced. That was a mistake.

Pronyma frowned immediately, uncrossing her arms. She just barely floated in the air, the tips of her steel-toed heels hovering only an inch above the floor. She floated towards him again.

Lloyd instinctively unsheathed one of his swords, practically hearing Kratos’ reprimanding voice in his head the very second he did so. Another mistake.

“And what exactly do you expect to do with that?” she asked him. She leaned over, Lloyd unsure whether to raise his sword or put it away, and instead held it mid-level. Her smile was so cruel and poisonous, that he tried not to look at it. But there wasn’t much elsewhere to retreat to. It seemed like she blocked any reasonable path of escape.

It was the same smile she had given when she attacked him on Yggdrasill’s orders. Cruel and vindictive, and oddly joyous at him failing to do anything else.

She saw him hesitate. She deftly knocked the sword aside with her heavy mace she was suddenly holding, the metal glinting a bright gold in its arc.

The quick motion had made him drop it. His grip had been lax, his nerves had been shaky. And his mouth still tasted of the orange gel.

“I could very much report to Lord Yggdrasill that you are causing trouble again, ignoring your task . It would be simple, since you already do so often enough.” Then, surprisingly, she moved back.

Lloyd found himself breathing again. He hadn’t before?

With a bored shrug, she was turning away again. There were different parts of Welgaia, and the hint of violet above for what served as their ‘skies’ was broiling, more evident out here, more aware that Yggdrasill’s domain was not far ahead.

“The Chosen must be retrieved soon. Surely you remember that.” She said the words in nearly a hiss. “Or do you wish for your father to die?”

The words sent a brief flash of rage through him. Rage and contempt. His father had been under their noses, had even visited Lloyd, and Pronyma still had no clue. Or she wouldn’t be talking so easily about Kratos with that awful smile on her face.

“You can’t even find him like you can’t find the Chosen!” he shot back. “So do I even have anything to worry about?”

Immediately he felt a backhand across his face. The force was so strong he thought he had been hit with a boulder. He stumbled, hitting the side of the machine roughly, hearing the metal dent and crack.

And when he raised his head, Pronyma’s smile was gone. Her teeth were bared, and her eyes suddenly looked so dark and furious.

“Impudent little pest. You’ve been on such good behavior, even agreeing to follow on your latest orders. And yet, you would go and ruin all that?” She then grabbed Lloyd’s chin, bringing him around to face her again.

“H-Hey! What are you—?”

“Be quiet, Son of Kratos. Pure filth. All your little rebellious attempts have given you nothing. A pity you simply can’t be executed along with your miserable traitor of a father, but Mithos saw there was more use for you. I won’t question him. My Lord knows best.”

The shock and discomfort he was feeling was soon overtaken by confusion. “Mithos?”

Pronyma’s eyes widened.

“You called him—”

“Shut up.”

She tightened her grip, nails digging into his skin. He reflexively reached for her wrist to pull away—but it was like she was made of stone. “Let me go!”

“Did you forget your other sword?”

She pushed him away before he could respond. Lloyd stumbled, his back hitting the machine again . Though he flinched, he tried to keep his eyes open. He could already feel his wings start to form to each side of him, his emotions still running high.

Any of the previous shock from before had left Pronyma’s face. Instead, she smiled once more. A cold expression, her lips in a thin line. “Or maybe Yggdrasill’s lesson has rubbed off on you. I will be sure to give him the good news.”

With that, she vanished, lines of shadow cutting through her image before she fully faded away. Lloyd had already turned away by then, looking towards his fallen sword.

Dammit. He winced, trying to stand, his face now feeling sensitive. Guess that could have gone worse.

Lloyd attempted to get back to getting more of the food from the machine until he took another look at it. It was almost half-destroyed, the front glass of it cracked, and the buttons dislodged. Electricity sparked from its sides.

It was completely broken, another machine left to decay in this already dead world. Lloyd sighed, looking at the few orange gels he had managed to snag before the end.

At least he and Colette wouldn’t starve just yet.

He couldn’t even remember the journey back, his motions almost mechanical. A quick flight past other angels who still didn’t give him a glance, a turn into an empty structure, then unlocking his door. The orange gels already felt too warm in his hands, and he sighed at his incompetence of even doing this single thing right.

“Hey, Colette. Sorry, I wasn’t really able to get much…”

He stopped when he heard a startled gasp. Raising his head, he saw how Colette had already left her cocoon of blankets, rushing up to him.

“Lloyd! Your face…”

“Huh?” He pressed two fingers gingerly against his cheek, then winced. Ugh. If it already hurt this much, he could only imagine how bad the bruise must have been. “Sorry, I just…got caught off guard.”

Colette still looked at him with that worried expression. She reached out her hand—the one where the crystal had spread up past her wrist—and then hesitated. Yet, it was only for a second, for she then pressed her hand against his cheek so gently, so softly.

Lloyd felt sensitive at being touched, but it didn’t spark any new pain. He found himself leaning into that touch, without fully realizing it.

“Who did this to you?” she asked him. She talked to him in such a soft voice, that it almost made his heart break.

He couldn’t remember anyone ever talking to him like this, like he was fragile and precious. If Kratos ever did, it was probably back when he was a kid, back from when he could barely remember anything.

Lloyd shook. “It’s…nobody. Nothing.” He looked away. “I’ll heal up quick. That’s what my Exsphere is for.”

“But…it still hurts you, doesn’t it?”

It did so, so much.

Lloyd couldn’t find it in himself to answer, but he felt Colette take his other hand, leading him to the bed. Sometimes, after a punishment from either Yggdrasill, or from Pronyma, or even another angel following orders, Lloyd would collapse onto his bed, waiting for the pain to finally fade away. Maybe, in some ways, he was a bit jealous of the other angels. They didn’t have to feel anything like this.

But then they didn’t feel anything at all regardless.

The last time he had done this, he had been paralyzed, Yggdrasill standing over him and giving him his orders to bring Colette. But now, it was Colette who led him to it, who wrapped the blankets around him, and then her arms.

She laid with him on the bed, holding him close. To his other side, he could feel Noishe curling up beside him, his wet nose nuzzling against his hand.

“We can give you an apple gel if you’re still feeling bad,” Colette told him. Her head was pressed into his chest, her hair tickling his chin. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“Don’t…apologize. How is it your fault?” But even as he spoke, something in his voice cracked. His body shook, and then his arms wrapped around Colette so tightly. She didn’t seem to mind the strain. “It’s never your fault.”

A pause, before Colette whispered to him, “Then, please know that it’s not your fault either. Don’t blame yourself for getting hurt.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright in the dark.

There was something there that she knew, more deeply than anything else.

They continued to hold each other in the bed, quietly, even as Lloyd felt himself sobbing for the first time in years.

“Lloyd, will you marry me?”

Colette’s voice was as clear as a bell within the winter air.

How she held his hand was that same gentleness from before, all those nights ago. Even with his palms callused from his training, from using his swords to fight against the angels that continually chased after them, she handled it delicately within her own.

He stood there, his cheeks hot, his mouth half-open. Only dimly was he aware of the townspeople that walked around them, traveling up those same stars, going into nearby shops or even to that same church.

“I…” he croaked out, his voice halting.

Colette was patient with his shortcomings as always. She smiled at him, even as she shivered in her cloak. “I know it’s sudden,” she said to him. “And I know we haven’t even known each other for that long… But I’ve never been happier than I am with you. I feel…more alive than I ever have before.”

Alive. Something in that word held meaning.

Lloyd, whose memories consisted of the dead world of Welgaia, knowing only the dead eyes of angels—had he ever been living before?

Colette laughed slightly, nervousness finally leaking through. “But, we don’t have to! It’s a little silly, isn’t it?” Her fingers tapped against his hand. He still remembered the feel of her kiss against it. “And you must be really tired from all that traveling—”

“I want to.”

Colette paused, blinking. She stared up at Lloyd, the snowflakes catching onto her eyelashes. It made him want to reach out and brush them away so much. It made him want to kiss them, to hold her close, to feel the heat even in the deep chill.

“Wait, I mean yes!” Lloyd restrained himself from smacking his own head. “That’s what I’m supposed to say, right? So, yes! I want to marry you!”

He spoke so loud that a few heads turned at his shouting. Some with raised eyebrows, others with laughing grins. Lloyd flushed in embarrassment. Maybe they thought he was proposing when it was the other way around…

“Lloyd…” Colette said his name in soft whisper, holding it as gently as she held his hand. “Are you sure?”

He grinned wide, gripping her hands back and bringing her close. He embraced her, just as they did in his bed, but with a giddy happiness this time. A hopeful thing blossoming in his chest as the wind gently tugged at both of their cloaks.

“Colette, I want to marry you,” he said, and knew what that meant, even having grown up in a world where such things hadn’t even been a possibility.

To say yes was to continue to live.

“You’re very weird, you know.”

Lloyd jumped, turning around to see the small child next to him in the kitchen of a wooden home. The boy’s silver hair shone from the sun beaming through an open window, the locks hiding his long ears. Genis had called himself an elf, but Lloyd could sense the mana coming from him. The mixture of human and elf was something he was all too familiar with, remembering the angels back home.

“...I don’t follow,” Lloyd said. He was leaning on a counter, to the spot closest to a window.

Genis rolled his eyes. “You act like you’ve never seen trees before.”

“...Ohhh.” Well, of course. “Uh, they’re kinda rare where I’m from, you know! So it’s kinda new to me.”

Nice save! Lloyd thought with pride.

He probably shouldn’t have just begun staring at the trees out the window for what must have been more than ten minutes, but there were just so many! After escaping from Welgaia, it was all he could do to not just examine every small thing he came across; from the river that cut through the ground just past this house, to even the home itself with its walls made of cut wood. The only real metal he saw was from Dirk’s blacksmithing corner of the house, along with a cooking pot that hung near a stove—the same cooking pot Genis was using now, cutting some vegetables to dump into the pot.

Lloyd shifted his feet, hearing the wood creak underneath his boots. He and Colette had arrived here just a day ago, finally making their escape from Welgaia. He thought he’d be prepared, but he didn’t expect such a stark difference from the world he had lived in for all of his life.

Everything here just felt so alive.

“So… have you been living in someplace like Triet? I guess there’s not many trees there.” Genis seemed to really ponder on this, still staring at Lloyd with some suspicion, even as he multitasked on his cooking. His sister, the one called Raine, had apparently gone to see Colette who was still upstairs, but she hadn’t looked at Lloyd with much welcome in her eyes either.

Lloyd wondered if it was the way he was dressed. He supposed he hadn’t changed out of his training outfit yet…

“It seems like a very strange ecosystem that you lived in if trees really are a rarity.”

The kid really wouldn’t let it go. Lloyd tried to shrug nonchalantly, eyes fixated on a little snail that crawled by the riverbank in the distance. So that’s what they look like… “Well, I just traveled around. Like my dad. We never stayed in one place. Uh, like places with not much trees!”

Oh, now he just sounded crazy.

Lloyd really just wanted to keep exploring this strange land, and was half-tempted to just leap through the window to do so. When he and Colette had escaped through one of the working warp pads from Welgaia, the sheer amount of greenery and fresh air was something he was still reeling from. But they’d had to rush from Kratos’ directions, finding this home that belonged to a dwarf, one that Kratos had apparently known for years.

And one of the first things the dwarf had said upon greeting Lloyd, warm eyes beneath bushy brows, was, “Haven’t seen ya since you were a small babe. You’ve truly grown.”

It set something aching in Lloyd, suddenly, even with Dirk’s kindness. I could have lived here.

Genis was still staring at him, even as a breeze picked up and blew through the window, tousling both of their hair. The wind brought in the scent of the nearby oak trees, making Lloyd’s nose tickle.

And Genis still kept staring at him.

“Do you…have to keep looking at me?” Lloyd asked, not without some annoyance in his tone.

Genis was not put off. In fact, he raised his head to meet Lloyd’s eyes fully. “Hey, you’re the one that’s hanging out in the kitchen with me.”

“I’m just waiting for Colette to be done, that’s all!” he said in a huff.

“And that’s another thing. My best friend suddenly shows up with some guy who doesn’t know what trees look like. I’m supposed to just accept that like it’s no big deal?”

“But I’m not doing anything!” Lloyd groaned, crossing his arms. “I just haven’t been here before.”

“Hm. And that you’re Kratos’ son?”

“Hey, I know he’s mentioned me!” Kind of. Sort of. Lloyd shook his head, going back to looking at some wildflowers growing in a pot by the door. Something new to look at, because even though the trees were fascinating, it did get a bit boring.

Then, a sigh from behind him. What else was this Genis kid going to complain about next?

“I thought I’d never see Colette again.”

The tone of Genis’ voice startled Lloyd enough to turn around. Suddenly, any of that attitude from before had evaporated, leaving a boy with sad eyes, looking towards the boiling cooking pot.

“When I saw her get taken at the tower, I thought… that would be it. She was gone forever, and Kratos was the one who took over. I didn’t even know it would be like that until…” His voice died, still looking away, the sun beating down on his silver hair.

Lloyd just stood there, unsure at first what to say. Would anything he said even be wanted? Kratos’ son. From what Colette had told him, they thought his father had betrayed them, giving her to Cruxis. So, would they really trust his son any better?

He thought on it for so long, with only the birdsong to fill in the silence—which was another fascination that Lloyd experienced. To hear sounds that weren't just the hum of machines or electrical wiring. There was the wind, the rustling of the trees, and the small animals that scurried into the bushes, away from his eyes.

“So, is it true?” Genis suddenly asked.

“Uh, what?” Lloyd asked dumbly. Damn, he was really not doing this first impression thing well.

The boy took a moment before he followed up with, “That you’re in love with Colette.”

…

What?

Lloyd was still, a thousand lines coming up in his head, none of them making sense. Most lines were said in his father’s voice, telling him to do something to minimize the damage to the situation, and that he was being reckless again.

And then he realized he had stayed quiet for too long. Long enough for Genis to be smirking at him like that.

“Who told you?” was what Lloyd finally decided to say.

And then, Genis was smiling. His expression held a smugness to his features that confused Lloyd.

“Wow, you admitted that pretty fast. And here I thought you’d try to keep denying it!”

It took a moment for Lloyd to really process the word. “Wait, did you just trick me? That’s not fair!”

“Is it really tricking you though? Geez, you’re really bad at lying. But, I can see why Colette likes you too.”

If it was possible, Lloyd’s face got even redder—at least it felt like it did. Then…

Colette likes me?

But before he could even begin to ask Genis how he would know anything about that, footsteps echoed from the stairs above.

“Genis! Lloyd!” Colette had quickly run down, with the woman called Raine following behind. Lloyd thought Raine had seemed cold to him, but did something change recently? He thought her eyes looked softer. “Sorry, I got caught up telling the Professor…” She looked over at the pot. “Oh, you’re making lunch?”

“Yep!” Genis said with a bit of bravado only a twelve-year old could pull off. “Some of your favorite soup to celebrate you being back with us!”

“Oh, thank you, Genis! I missed your cooking so much.” Colette then looked at Lloyd, her hands clasped, still covering up the green patches on her skin. “Are you doing okay, Lloyd?”

Lloyd tried to answer, but the words from Genis, I can see why Colette likes you, kept echoing in his head. He eventually said, “Uh, yeah! Just excited to eat, too!”

This would be the first time he would have real food, not made in a machine, but by another’s hands.

“You’re lucky I made enough for everyone,” said Genis, but already he poured the soup he made from the pot into a wooden bowl, handling the ladle with expertise. Then, he handed the bowl to Lloyd. “Here.”

The contents were an orange-red color, thick when Lloyd stirred it with a spoon. He thought he could smell spices from it.

“What is it?”

Genis grinned. “Tomato soup. Go on, try it!”

And when he did so, he just proved Genis’ point in the end. He really was a terrible liar.

“I guess it’s called eloping. I mean, with what we’re doing.”

“Eloping…” Lloyd stretched out the word, trying to figure out its meaning and contours. He might have come across that word in a book, but the definition escaped him. “Is that bad?”

At that, Colette flushed, huddling into her cloak as they climbed their way up the stairs. She fiddled with something over her finger, turning it every which way. “I think I used to believe that… But it doesn’t feel that way now.” She faced him as they reached the top steps, smiling. “It just means we’re getting married without our parents knowing. But we can always tell them later!”

That made sense to Lloyd! “Yeah! We can just tell them how it went.”

“Mmhmm!” Colette nodded, then grabbed for his hand to rush for the double-doors. “Let’s go inside!”

In the swirling snows, Lloyd caught the silver gleam around her finger, but once inside the church, his attention was soon drawn elsewhere.

The interior was softly lit up by candlelight, which were placed in intervals by the walls of the church. A few people were inside, some of them sitting in the pews that lined up on both the left and right sections of the tiled floor. Up ahead, Lloyd saw a dais, near where those in cloth robes softly spoke with each other.

Sometimes, with the help of his Exsphere, Lloyd could pick up on whispers that were spoken from across the room. Kratos had taught him how, and he had kept that sense on, in case someone from Cruxis was nearby, spying on them.

But what he heard most of all was the name Martel.

It was a name that he heard Yggdrasill speak of. Yggdrasill and, sometimes, his father. And whenever they spoke of her to Lloyd, it always sounded like they talked about two different people.

Lloyd let his eyes roam across the church, from the polished marble tiles to the stained glass windows. It did remind him of Vinheim, in some ways. Except, this place wasn’t in ruins, the walls crumbling and the windows shattered. It also wasn’t empty or devoid of any life. People moved around, albeit in hushed tones. Footsteps echoed around the interior, and even a stray cough could be heard clearly. It made one feel exposed to something grand and imposing. In that way, at least, it was like Vinheim.

Lloyd saw the workings of Cruxis woven into every fiber of its construction, from the sweeping pillars to the dazzling colors of those windows. In one of them, Lloyd saw a woman’s face that was inlaid in the glass. She had long locks of emerald hair and soft eyes, half-lidded in prayer. Her arms were stretched out wide, as if in welcoming.

His first thought as he looked at her was, That’s Martel.

He felt a gentle tug on his sleeve, turning to Colette who waited by his side patiently.

“Oh, sorry, I was just looking around. This place is really big…”

But she smiled at him knowingly. Her eyes also glanced towards the stained glass window, seeing the woman depicted. Rays of the sun shone behind her head, and a flowing dress hugged her form as she stepped over green hills. Even in the dim evening, every detail could be seen.

Colette started to lift both her hands up to clasp, then stopped herself. She hesitated before letting her hands fall back to her sides. “I know Martel isn’t really a goddess. Not after everything we’ve seen… It’s just hard to break the habit sometimes.” She once again fiddled with the gleaming shine from her finger. “But, you know… I think that actually makes me feel relieved. It means, she never chose for any of this to happen.”

A few people shuffled past to enter the church, and both Lloyd and Colette hurriedly moved out of the way. Colette did a small trip against one of the tiles, and in reflex, Lloyd reached out, holding her by the waist. The suddenness of it made them both retreat even further into a darker corner of the church, hidden from the candlelight, and even the shine from the windows.

Lloyd looked down at Colette, her face so near, and the air so hushed from whatever reverence the people had for this church, for the deities that Cruxis had laid out for them all. But he didn’t really think about any of that, still so focused on her eyes.

It was strangely dark here, in this tiny corner of the Church, and one of the pillars was effectively hiding them away.

Colette placed both hands on his chest, fingers moving underneath the cloak that still hung around his shoulders. Suddenly, she was quiet. Suddenly, they were both quiet.

They had run and rushed through so much to finally escape, to come here—and now that they had, everything froze completely.

Lloyd hugged Colette so closely then, hands against her back, feeling her warmth. She embraced him back, and they were like that for a while, hiding in the dark of the church. He didn’t want to ever let her go.

He loved her. And he’d known that for a long time.

“Is it still okay to get married here?” Colette asked him softly. He felt her fingers against the back of his neck, along with something cool and solid. “Maybe it’s odd with Martel looking down at us…”

At that, Lloyd grinned, reaching to take one of her hands and hold it in his own. He saw clearly the ring on her finger, matching his. They had bought it from the jewelry shop, cheap ones that they could afford. But it was enough. “You know, I think she’d like this… That we’re doing this.”

Colette raised her eyes at him curiously. “Really? Why do you say that?”

Lloyd’s eyes grew soft, lost in memory. “Because whenever my dad mentioned her, he talked about her like she was a real person. Maybe she was like us, too.” He shrugged. “It probably doesn’t make a lot of sense now that I’m saying it out loud…”

But the small laughter he heard from Colette, as she also entwined their fingers and matched with their rings, let him know that maybe what he said hadn’t been so out of place after all.

“I think so too,” she said, then added shyly, “Maybe she felt the same way about someone else.”

Lloyd didn’t know, only having half-told stories and proclamations that he had heard all his life. But he wanted to believe it, more than anything.

Once, Colette had believed herself to be at peace with her death.

After all, she had been prepared for it for much of her life. Her journey emphasized it with each step of the way; a loss of her senses, a loss of her voice, and a loss of her place within the world. No one else had wings such as hers, and no one else looked to the tower as she did, hoping and dreading, wanting and detesting. But the chain that tethered her to what would be her final resting place couldn’t be broken. Each seal she unlocked further took away her humanity.

Except, she had just been lying to herself. At the final seal, as Remiel looked down at her with a deep-set frown, she realized she didn’t want to die after all.

And didn’t that make her such a worthless Chosen in the end?

“...lette? Colette?”

She blinked, and the shadows cleared from her eyes. The soft lamplight that hung from the ceiling made her feel suddenly so fatigued. Her limbs were heavy, and she thought she had been laying down for a week or more. But no, she was seated on a chair, numbness leaving her throat, and a fog lifting from her mind. Memories coalesced, shifted with the reality of the home she woke up in, of the boy who stood in front of her, hands linking with hers.

“...Lloyd,” she spoke, her voice a bit dry and cracked, as if she had been wandering the desert. She couldn’t help but cough a little, and immediately, a water cup was handed to her by another soul in the room. She looked to her right, seeing a woman with long green hair that rippled down her back in a neat braid.

“Please. Drink this,” spoke the woman, as halting as the strange angels she had seen up in a place she once thought to be heaven.

Lloyd immediately unlinked their hands, his cheeks flushed, but heaving a sigh of relief. “You’re back, Colette! I was really worried because at first it didn’t seem to work but, Altessa said it might take time… Ah, sorry! You don’t know him, he’s—”

“The dwarf that lives here?” Colette said, half-confused at her own words. She shook her head, finally gripping the water cup in both hands. “I think I remember. We were running from Cruxis because they had caught up to us and…”

And then sudden darkness. She fell into cold waters and couldn’t seem to get herself to reach the top. So stuck she had been, seeing muted pictures moving before her, hearing half-whispers that sounded like her name. Such memories slowly started to fall into place…

She had left Lloyd alone, with no idea of how he could save her.

Lloyd smiled sheepishly, and his breath was shaky from past worries. But when he smiled at her, it was so beautiful that she temporarily lost her breath. She then took a sip of the water, tasting its freshness, relieved she wasn’t back to her senseless state again.

“I’m really sorry to have caused so much trouble,” she told him, heaving out a sigh. But a quick glance at her hands told her something else, noticing the lack of crystal over her skin. It’s cured? she thought, and of course if she could now speak, and feel, and no longer was left in an endless dusk, Lloyd would find a way to cure her.

Alive, and with no mark of her failure on her anymore.

“I can get you more water,” spoke the green-haired woman, again in those halting tones, taking back the cup. Something about her seemed so awfully familiar to Colette, and it was beyond just what she might have experienced in her soulless state. Looking at the woman brought a sense of nostalgia to her, something she had known since she was little—but the woman left the room, and such thoughts were set to fade once more.

She tried immediately to stand up, and struggled to do so. Her legs were wobbly, her steps more unsteady than usual. Lloyd immediately went to her side, holding her up by her right arm.

“Hey, you should keep resting for now!” His touch was warm on her arm, and she was suddenly so very hungry to keep feeling it. She almost latched onto him in a fierce hug, stopping herself from doing so.

Instead, she said, “But, I think I want to see the stars. Would it be okay to go outside?”

Maybe it was selfish, and she could see the hesitation in Lloyd’s eyes, but a quick look towards the windows seemed to decide for him. “I guess it’s pretty calm out there. Are you sure you can walk?”

At the question, Colette couldn’t help herself. She was always adept at lying, after all.

“I think I could use some help after all,” she said with a smile, happy to feel his touch just a little bit longer.

Altessa’s home was situated in an isolated place, the rocky cliffside so very steep, but facing a dense forest to the north. The sky outside was full of wondrous stars, inlaid with streams of violet stuck within the black. Colette looked out to it, relieved to see such a sight was still familiar, even in this other world.

It had been the same feeling when in Welgaia, seeing the stars just outside the tower, so high up it pierced the very clouds.

She glanced a look at Lloyd, who also raised his head to the night sky. He still wore his clothes from back on Welgaia, a wine-red outfit that echoed Kratos’ when he had traveled with Colette on Sylvarant. In the dimness, she saw even more features of her once-bodyguard in Lloyd; in the spikes of his hair, in the sweep of his neck, and the soft russet eyes that reflected back those stars.

But there was something else, something that was decidedly Lloyd’s that gripped at Colette’s heart more than anything else. She had never felt this way with anyone before. She had never thought it to be possible, always keeping such feelings down before they could blossom past admiration or childhood crushes.

She was in love with Lloyd. She didn’t know when it started, but she knew this to be a fact, as sure as she once did in her fate as a Chosen.

Except this time, it filled her heart instead of leaving it hollow.

“Sheena said we could head to a place up north next,” Lloyd was saying, looking out over the horizon. “She said it’s called Flanoir, and that we could travel to it on an EC? I don’t really know what that is though…”

Colette blinked, feeling a little ashamed that she hadn’t been thinking about Sheena, or Genis and Raine, or the other new friends they had made like Presea, who had shown them the way to Altessa’s home, or even Zelos, another Chosen like her… Was he still in Meltokio, unable to move from his place because of the Pope keeping an eye on him?

“Will Sheena be coming with us?” she asked him, unsure what she was hoping to hear.

Lloyd shook his head, the moonlight bouncing off his hair, casting it almost silver. “No, she has to go back to Mizuho, in case anyone from Cruxis comes by… I wonder if they’re still tracking us.”

Colette read between the lines. “So we’d be by ourselves?”

Lloyd cleared his throat, but she thought she saw the red dusting his cheeks again. “Eheh, yeah. But don’t worry! I’ll be better at fighting them off this time, I swear! I won’t… I won’t let them do that to you again.”

Colette’s memory was still hazy, but what she could recall was the imprint of her hands around her chakrams, Remiel going near her, reaching out to her Cruxis Crystal before everything went dark, like a candlelight going out.

She saw the worry flit across Lloyd’s eyes, and wondered if he was reliving that memory, one that was much clearer to him, one that he must have repeated in his head while she was locked inside her body.

“But I’m okay now,” she reassured him, placing a hand over her heart. She felt her own heartbeat, wondering if that same heart had slowed when her soul was trapped in chrysalis. “And we can keep traveling together too!”

Somehow, that question set something conflicting in Lloyd’s face, one that made her want to reach out and touch, to calm. “Is that really what you want?”

She stopped hesitating, and reached out her hands to his face.

As she did so, she felt her wings span out from her back. Maybe it was to test if she still held her angelic powers, or maybe it was the sensation of Lloyd’s skin against her hands, setting her heart racing. She saw the color of her wings reflected in his eyes, how he stared at her, seeing only her as the crickets chirped in the nearby grass, as the nightbirds sang in the distance.

She saw his own wings move past his shoulder blades; grand ones that were a brilliant blue, like a mid-afternoon sky. She felt such wings could wrap around her and keep her safe, but could she do the same for him? Could she keep him safe from all that had happened, and continued to happen as they tried to find a way to change the broken scales these worlds were balanced on?

“Of course I do,” she told him, drawn in by his eyes, feeling more brave than she ever had in all her life. “Lloyd, I’m so happy to know you. And I want to keep staying by your side.”

Like the Goddess, she felt she had been asleep for so very long, until Lloyd came into her life.

She had never kissed another person like this, lips pressed against another’s. But underneath the stars, she felt she could do anything now. And when she felt the soft, gentle pressure against her own mouth, Lloyd’s body closer to her now, it didn’t feel like a mistake.

She was so happy to be here and alive with him.

In the Flanoir cathedral, Lloyd and Colette got married underneath the stained glass window that depicted the goddess Martel. With witnesses that generously spared their time, and a priest who felt such sympathy for them, they were wed in the later evening hours, just as the bell rang for a final mass.

But the goddess Martel was no goddess, and Colette recognized the depicted woman’s face as that of Tabatha’s. She wondered at that connection, at those green eyes that showed her such kindness. But if such eyes did, then surely whoever Martel was would also feel the same.

“And I love you!” he said to her, so simple and so excited. It made her giggle, already leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, and then his lips, and then Lloyd copied her by kissing her forehead, then at her chin, before the tired priest had to tell them that they still needed to say their ‘I do’s.’

She hardly remembered the actual ceremony, dazzled instead by Lloyd’s eyes, by his smile, by the way he held their hands together, as if he never wanted to let her go.

But she had already known, for perhaps even longer than she realized, that she wanted to be with Lloyd, to have him by her side, and to declare that in some way.

She remembered the weddings held in Iselia would bring in days of celebration and dancing. But somehow, underneath the soft light through the windows as the snow fell outside, Colette was happy with this—perhaps even more so.

Would it be selfish of her to keep Lloyd to herself just a little longer?

It’s what she thought when she was already rushing Lloyd with her down the aisle, leaving through the doors so quickly just to be out in the snow again, the difference in temperature so sudden that she immediately shivered.

“And I love you too,” she said to him, her voice shaking from the cold, or maybe something else. She had already said the words to him inside the church, but she now needed to say it again, just as the stars shone a bit brighter.

Let me keep loving you for as long as I can. Because the future was still uncertain, and they were still adrift, trying to change what seemed impossible.

But she had once thought it impossible for her to keep living past sixteen.

Lloyd wrapped her in his arms, leaning down to kiss her again—on her forehead, on her cheeks, on her lips, over her closed eyes—and whispered, “I’ll always stay by your side.”

And she knew for a fact that Lloyd always kept his promises.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #fanfiction #colloydday2024

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