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infinitethree · 1 year ago

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Have you ever met a version of darkza that was kind?

Day makes a face like he’s insulted. To be fair, he is; the question is absurd to him on quite a few levels. His wings flick in annoyance as he answers, "I've only met the one. If I could have snapped his wings off and stuffed them down his throat, I would have. He’s a monster and I'm glad he died suffering."

The irony of him, of all people, saying that is not lost on Day. But, well…even at his worst, he didn't do anything as heinous as hacking the wings off of two of his own kids and blinding one of them.

Coming back from just a day-long run to the nearby village to find Theo, all of thirteen, desperately trying to protect his younger brothers despite his own maiming–

He can never forget that sight. Nor can he forgive a man who would be that much of a monster.

There are a lot of debts he has racked up with the Fates, but that is the first and largest. Despite their confusion from the sudden reality warp, they were still able to give Theo the strength to hold on until Day returned.

The Fates are why his family remains whole and hale. He can never hope to repay them for that fact.

"Not me, personally," Day answers. "But Sanctuary as a whole does, yes. Some people would say Manhunts don't count. I disagree; the server pretty much shuts down for them, after all. Even Lucid’s are a big deal…not that they can outdo Perce's."

He sounds a little smug about that. His second youngest, for all that he likes to be a menace, has taken to Sanctuary's style of Manhunts with a startling amount of grace.

Maybe part of it is a desire to get the hefty paychecks offered, sure. Perce has several pricey hobbies; those had actually been the push he needed to actually take the plunge.

There had been some awkwardness in adjusting to the new format, of course. But once he had his footing, his second youngest had taken off at a dead sprint and has yet to slow down.

And now Perce draws the biggest audience, in no small part because he knows exactly how to play to them. He’s damn good at finding the best way to balance his skill and keeping the viewers in suspense.

But the question had likely been about more normal festivals.

"The last weekend of March, we have the Blooming Festival. It's a celebration of the end of winter and beginning of spring. Lots of flowers get handed around in different forms. Bouquets, flower crowns, corsages, bracelets– some people get them preserved with magic as a memento. Or just get paper ones."

He can’t help but smile at the memory he has of Lee and Perce's respective first years.

With Perce, the rest of his family– and his friends, once they caught on– made a game out of stealthily adding to the increasingly unwieldy number of floral adornments. It quickly spiraled out of control, until it seemed like half of Sanctuary decided to pile on.

Even Vio had managed to pin a small hyssopus to his sleeve. Nobody was sure when he did it, just that it had to have been him.

The flower is pretty uniquely linked to the alien. They’re what his ear cuff is in the shape of, and thus a little too personal for most people to grow at all. Even those that do wouldn't just hand them out like that.

By the end of the festival, Perce had enough flowers that he could have started a stall. He had been red faced from laughter and a bit of embarrassment.

Lee, meanwhile, had missed that same celebration by just a bit under two months. He had more time to acclimate to Sanctuary's style of celebrating in time for the next year, and more critically, time to plot.

His goal had been to give every single person a flower. In his eyes, they were all special, and thus all needed to get something from him.

There…had been some distress, when he failed at that exceptionally ambitious goal.

A few people got together afterwards to help him belatedly achieve it– Aster being among them.

Daz, too. It's sort of funny; the two Tommys don't mesh at all, and yet they had both felt driven to help a sullen six year old feel better.

Now that he’s thinking about the perky head of newcomer orientation, though, he remembers another event.

"The Welcome Wagon holds a picnic each month, open to anyone who wants to go. I think it's mainly to help new residents meet others. I don't go much, but Orph loves it."

Likely, part of that is because he’s good friends with Daz. Plus he doesn't have to stress about orientation any more. The rest of the people who run the day-to-day parts of the server are semi-regulars as well. Even Vio shows up sometimes, in between boughts of…hibernation?

Day is pretty sure that's what Vio has claimed he does to recover post-travel. But Vio says a lot of things that Day takes with a few pounds worth of salt, so fuck knows if he was telling the truth, exaggerating, or just flat out lying.

He and Theo agree that Vio definitely makes some things up just to fuck with them. It’s likely payback for all the times that the two of them annoy the alien.

It does not help that the rest of the not-family double down on some things, or refute others that Day knows for a fact are true.

Speaking of Vio's totally-not-sons, though…

"We have combat tournaments– which Aryll is banned from participating in. He won too easily and it was boring for everyone. That happened not too long after multiverse travel started, though, and there’s a good chance he wouldn't do nearly as well now. He's never tried to appeal it because he can't be bothered and he likes rubbing it in Theo’s face."

It remains a sore spot for Theo that he was never able to get banned for being too good.

Of course– Day’s eldest never gives them his all, either. There’s leagues of difference between a friendly, if heated, match and Theo aiming to kill.

Theo can be beaten. Theseus Was-Taken cannot.

Day is all too aware of just how powerful Theo truly is– a lifetime of pushing himself to be stronger, better, and faster than anyone else is emphasized every time the chorus of the Fates demand blood.

Despite the frequent bickering and annoyance, the Fates do not fuck around with an actual threat. They’ve grown attached to Theo and his loved ones– and, thus, messing around when those are in danger is a non-option.

Theseus Was-Taken, the legend, was born because Theo needed to protect his family. He and the Fates formed a deep, symbiotic relationship; they live in his head and grant him strength, and he acts as their conduit on the world at large.

Even Iatros has been able to get a better understanding of Chat through him.

…And also through Day talking about Theo’s antics over the years. So sue him– the piglin was arguably the last bridge not reduced to ash by the time Day had made his desperate deal. He might have spent decades in the world of the SMPza, but…a part of him could never forget that tiny sliver of hope.

Iatros might be his therapist, but Day still considers him a friend. Zephyr– usually just Phil– has become one, too.

They do share centuries of memories. Some of them are confusing, some are infuriating, some are fascinating, but they are still shared.

Phil only ever competed in one of the tournaments. Despite complaining that he was too old for it, he was still fifth.

Not bad by any stretch. Definitely worse than Day’s fourth, though– and well behind Vio's third, Theo’s second, or Aver's first place.

It had been a good fight. A familiar sense of joy had overtaken Day when the scrappy, snarling kid who had been through hell got his first gold medal.

Aver looked a hell of a lot like Theo had the first time his eldest was able to beat Day in a spar. Definitely older, but the look of hard-won victory still brought back a lot of memories.

So, Day had taken it upon himself to commission Atlas for a golden laurel wreath. Aver had laughed in delight and wore it for the next week.

As far as Day is aware, Aver's laurels are currently being worn by a life size cow plushie on display in Make It Sew.

That had all been years ago, of course. It was before Aster had been brought back– hell, it was before Perce had entered the picture.

His second youngest sometimes feels like he’s been with them forever. It's jarring to remember that there was a time before he or Lee were a part of the family.

He continues, "Christmas is another big holiday for us. It's…" he pauses, brows furrowing in thought.

"...It's a way to reaffirm the spirit of kindness that made them decide to stay here. It doesn’t matter if you've been here two weeks or two years; you get presents. There’s a lot of groups that hold open festivities, because just about everyone here has too much experience with being alone."

Prime knows that Day is familiar with it. He remembers the numb blur of time, blood, and agony that his time in Pandora's Vault became.

Even before that, though– when he was rapidly spiraling out of control– he spent too much time with only his server for company.

By the time things devolved beyond repair, even that was gone. There was just Day, his fury, and the crippling admin drives that ruined him.

He tries not to focus too much on that part of his past. Sometimes he's left breathless over his grief that he had to rip out a part of his soul, to murder the world that never understood why everything was going so wrong so fast.

"It doesn’t matter how fancy the gift is. What's really important, at least from what I've seen, is that you're thinking of the other person. I've heard a lot of stories about the Welcome Wagon reducing people to tears with origami or a box of snacks. One year, the Prank Guild heads hacked into the com network to send everyone a greatest hits montage of server prank wars."

Day remains completely and utterly convinced that they did it with help from the Redstone Alliance. Nobody has ever admitted as such, sure, but Day is incredibly suspicious that the compilation had Theo getting bested so many times.

…The number of times Vio looked like a clown was also pretty damn high. The T3 are united in their rock solid belief that the tech geeks provided the leg work for that particular 'gift.'

Caper and Spark, meanwhile, were able to add another onto the list of server guidelines. Hacking into the com network on that scale for anything short of an emergency isn't cool.

Funny, yes, but not great for the overall mental health of the server.

He stretches his wings out behind him, trying to work out a faint twinge. It's too easy to tune out physical discomfort and pain. This body might have never gone through horrific torture, but Day damn well remembers it.

His pain receptors are, as far as he can tell, just permanently fucked up. It's…been an issue for him.

"And on Christmas night, most of the server gathers for a party. Some people dress up, others wear casual clothes, but it’s fun all around. Food, games, time spent with friends and strangers alike…even active prank wars get set aside for the night.” Another smile creeps up at the memories.

Day is definitely among those who want to dress up. It’s not only a chance to wear something nice, but to show off a lot of the fancier jewelry he’s gotten over the years.

To him, Christmas night is magical. Seeing so many people he’s offered a hand towards gathering together, laughing and talking, in a server shaped not by war but peace…

That feeling is not something he could ever fully put into words.

Seeing his sons in that atmosphere in particular makes him emotional. He still feels a horrible sense of guilt for the suffering that his eldest four endured on the SMPza.

Having them be so carefree, with so many others who care about them…

Yeah, he needs to go to another event. If he doesn’t, he might start crying.

The best way to redirect is, as always, to reflect on the Prank Guild’s actions.

He huffs softly as he says, “April Fool’s day is omnipresent, inescapable, and officially sponsored by the Prank Guild. My understanding is that they make bank. Some people go into lockdown.”

Day’s family is not among them. As long as there aren’t recently-rescued guests in Summer Hills, it’s the best time of year for anyone to try to prank them.

Plenty have tried. A lot have failed, and gotten a taste of what the Was-Taken family can do when sufficiently motivated.

The ones who succeed get a full taste of it. It’s maybe a little too satisfying to see them realize the gravity of their actions far, far too late.

Being able to see their glee turn into regret in real time is definitely petty of him. But at the same time, he only pretends not to be a chaotic bastard at heart.

His kids had to learn it from someone, after all.

But there's plenty of other, less benign things they've learned from him. He can’t help but feel an ache in his chest when he thinks about how much they've all suffered because of his selfishness.

Tone much more serious, he explains, “On the day before the anniversary of the server's creation, we mourn. For people, for places, for things– everyone in Sanctuary has lost something. A collective day of remembrance lets us all grieve. Some people do it alone, others with friends or family. We usually light candles or send lanterns made with seaweed out over the ocean. There’s no wrong way to do it, though.”

Prime knows his own style has shifted over the years. It had been something he did only with his sons, at first.

Then Iatros gently suggested that he should take at least a few hours to focus on his own grief, instead of only theirs.

It was good advice. Day takes time in the morning to let himself ruminate on his past. He's lost so much, and he’ll lose so much more before he's through.

After that, he joins his sons to have a slightly less somber remembrance. He tells stories and listens to the ones they tell, in turn.

He sighs softly. “And…the next day, we celebrate healing. We come together and have a festival to declare that no matter our pain, we're still here. We've escaped hell and found a place that prizes kindness and love. How can we not love that, after we've suffered so much?”

A faint smile creeps up again. It's hard not to, when he thinks about the years he's spent marveling at the way none of them can stand to let negativity linger for too long. Many of the current residents have had a bad parting be the final time they spoke to someone, after all– and that regret has shaped them into the people they are today.

The Night of Flight and Dawn of Sanctuary are two halves of a whole. Pain and grief will find you, yes, but there is always time to heal.

How sweet. You should write greeting cards or something.

Day startles, his head snapping up like he can spot whoever just spoke.

Oh c'mon, DayDream. You're smarter than that!

You don't want to bore me, do you?

A shudder goes down his spine. The flex of power in just those words makes the situation painfully clear.

This is some form of divinity, and boring them is dangerous.

They want to be entertained, like Day is only there to put on a show for them.

A peal of laughter, almost staticky at points, rings out. Fuck, you have no idea how right you are! Why did I bother staying quiet for so long, if it's this much fun speaking up?! Being silent doesn't suit me, anyway. Too much of a showman–

The door slams open, and on the other side is Theo. He looks distressed, a fact that diverts Day's attention from the likely-malicious entity.

“Dad, we have a fuckin’ problem–” Theseus, your timing sucks. I spent so long waiting, and NOW is when you show yourself?!

Theo grits his teeth. “It's been ten minutes.” Hah! If only you knew.

A bitterness lies under those words, but Day is too busy getting up to put a hand on his son's shoulder. “What do you want from us?”

I'm sick of hanging back. This whole mess is going to get stalled out forever unless something changes, anyway. Two birds, one stone.

That explains nothing.

You don't need to understand. You'll figure it out eventually, even if I don't tell you.

Jaw flexing, Theo hisses, “You act like you're above retaliation from other gods. Do you think that Time–”

Laughter booms so loud that they both wince from it. Half-hysterically, the voice repeats, Time? TIME?! I know you're not supposed to know, but holy FUCK…of all the threats you could have made, that's the funniest. It's a dumb one, too– it's not like they'd take your calls.

Day narrows his eyes. It feels like a trap, but–

“Who said we're the only ones who can call?”

A giggle sounds out. Sure; I'll back off if the Observers can get Time to scold me. What could outrank the embodiment of time and reality, anyway?

Somehow, Day doesn't find any comfort in that promise.

#asked&answered #long post #chaotictheseus #daydreamer #mysteriousvoice #RunsTheShow #chronotag #and THIS is why I had to wait until I finished the other one to post this #bc it doesn't make sense to go from questions to the VERY CONCERNING presence of mystery #and then go back to more questions #there are soooooo many hints in here lmao #yellow is used as emphasis like bold or italic would be #bc tumblr is fuckin' weird and doesn't let me to underline easily #and just un-italizing it wasn't bold enough #there's nothing especially important about those words and I genuinely mean that #yellow is actually their secondary color! yes they have a color scheme. and an appearance. and [redacted]!#mystery is a horrible creature but they are near and dear to my heart for. reasons.#when they get their grand reveal it'll change things around here!! :D #the colored text refuses to behave and I can't fix it sorry :((

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