Though Yuki cannot speak on Alcideo's behalf, she is confident to a certainty that he nods at the right moment. You can only see a fox sit on someone once before understanding what's expected of you in that moment. And while the passing fancy does strike her that if this were the moment she learned to split her heartblade she could give both of those tails quite the shear right now, she is not especially curious to find out where loose star magic flows in the middle of the outside, and she's not certain she'd survive Hazel's subsequent pout.

So, she mmmphs obligingly as her mouth and nose are pressed into not one but two massive fluffy tails. And she even manages a grin that reaches her eyes in the process. "You look pretty, Hazel" she says when he mouth manages to be in-between floof. "Really pretty. I don't know how I didn't notice it sooner." And she curls her long tail around his legs and helps him settle more comfortably into his new seat. It's fine, he's light and cute and if this is how her friend wants to be, well, it's her fault for being too dense to see the real beauty in this before he had to shove it in her face. The beauty of him caring enough to put on the show in the first place. That's the good shit.

***

The Boar's Ossuary. Despite Yuki's view while serving in her new primary role of "chair" being somewhat obstructed, it's hard to miss the vast, yellow, star-bleached bones of the goblin boars that make the place. One wonders how broadly the term "boar" applies here to the range of goblins whose vast structure forms into cliffs and towers tall enough to gaze over the Outside and see its own nonexistence.

Yuki's never been here, precisely. Her last adventure didn't make it into the Khanate. But She's traversed the outside with starlight, and there's something about the nature of the place that feels familiar. [Been Around 5+5+1. The place reminds Yuki of something familiar.]

Was it like a realm she had passed by in her first adventure maybe? Not the nature of Azaza, but perhaps of Miaou? It felt like maybe she had been here, or something like here when she'd traveled from Kel to Crevas through the outside the first time. It had shrunk from her then, her starlight shining on her brow like a glorious Sunshard from the hit wuxia TV series Princesses of the Sunshards. But it still felt familiar, like she knew the layout of the place, like it had a sense of consistency across time. Like there was a tower that would be the right place to put a foreign princess, in whatever form she might take. [Yuki knows something about the layout enough to know the right place to go to find Juniper. Where is that?]

But first, there's the matter of the guards. Yuki's first thought is violence, of a sort. But that seems terribly risky and even worse, time consuming. But then Seli peaks her head out from the back of the cart and Yuki's ears perk up. "Seli...Hazel. What we really need here is a distraction. Any ideas~?"

Well! He’ll have you know, his snout doesn’t un-hmmph that easily! You have done him a grave and terrible insult, Yuki. Your wickedness has wounded the heart of a precious, innocent, floofy foxy fellow, and it will take more than just sweet words to make this right!

Now, if could you just-yes, ohhhh, yes, nice and cozy and snug with that tail. And he’ll just, with a wiggle, and a scoot, get himself properly nestled on your lap. Tails go, yes, mmmmmmm, yes, you are the perfect size for a pair of soft, fluffy tails to wrap around. You may start brushing them at any time. Or maybe some scritchies? You know, not a single soul has ever scritchied him, ever?

What was he saying? Oh! Right! He is very cross with you, and can remain very cross with you, even when preening and proud and (really!!!) pretty and purring. Yeah, that’s right! Foxboys can purr! Just you watch! And also listen!

---

You ask Hazel?

You ask sweet, pure, innocent little Hazel?

“I surely don’t have any ideas.”

A glance is shared - shared most generously - between all foxes able to use their words.

“But I know someone who will~”

Why are we looking at you like that, Inara?

We are looking at you - precious Inara, beautiful Inara, captivating Inara - because of all the foxy boys and all the foxy girls and all the foxy folks in all the foxy lands, you are the most eye-catching, irresistible Fox of them all! Ever! Now, yes, he doesn’t know exactly who you are. Even with your dragon-tussle, it’s a little tricky to pin down beyond a VIF, who is also a VMF, and probably also a VFF. And yet! He can recognize just how brilliant and beautiful and skilled and maidenly you are! Such is your power! And we can’t forget that you already have proven experience making the biggest, baddest wolves chase their tails silly.

So. Inara. We don’t need to be asking us much of anything, no? You’ve got this alllllll well in hand, yes?

Go on, then. Tell us how you keep all those eyes on you. With both paws tied behind your back~

Teahouse Ceremony!

Mayzie's doing her very best to take notes, Eclair, but... well, can you blame her for being a little distracted? And not just by your dizzying display of deductive dprowess, or by the cup of tea lightly steaming at her elbow. For this world of ours is undergirded by certain pillars, and one of these is:

The goddess sustains the world, and when she is in danger, the Hero comes to save her.

She's always been nervous, hasn't she? More concerned with danger than what might be won by daring it. And now she finds herself, like any denizen of Thellamie would, tumbling into a pit without a trusted trampoline at the bottom. We are on our own.

"...but that can't be right," she says, and what she means is: tell me that we're going to be okay. Her voice is strained, and her grip on her notebook is tight.

But Aadya, the Rock upon a Mountain, narrows her eyes. She's a hunter after truth, too. "...then it's up to us to save her. All of us."

---

Quest!

I suppose it's impossible for me to not be a hot mom when I am called upon to beguile, trick and seduce. (The other one, on the other hand? She'd throw a tantrum that every huntress in that place wasn't bowing to her already! Dazzling, psh.) And I do appreciate the slack in the ankle ropes. That'll just about give them all a fair fight.

Because, after all... I am a star.

A fallen one, certainly. But one nonetheless.

You can feel it, can't you, Hazel? How your light seeps out into the grass, how it makes the grass seem to whisper chase me chase me chase me, how an entire castle of huntresses surges out after me without giving you so much as a second glance? When there's a prize like this on the table, who cares about the scraps?

...well, hm.

Okay, so.

That one with the eyepatch? The Kel paladin jacket heavily customized and patched up? The capacity to pull a very big heartsword out of her heart? The one still standing at the gate, smoking? Um. Well. She's... she must be one of the Khatun's khans. The kind who doesn't run, but sets her hounds after the prey.

You're going to have to stop her because, even with my light all about us, if she gets her hands on me... well, we'll have to cut to a different scene entirely!! This one will end up Patreon-only!

(That's the right reference, isn't it, Yuki?)

Injimo laughed - an unhinged, desperate sound. "You think I am deluded? You think that it is possible to be more than a shadow of the Hero of Ages? I set this out as politely as I could -" she shakes tea from her fingertips, "- gave you every opportunity to back down. But I guess you really do need it spelled out for you: If we are in our own hands, we are all doomed, each and every one of us."

She drained her tea in a single gulp, then refilled the cup straight from the hip flask. "So we're not. So we're not! She's coming back - she might be back already. She always has, always will, because she knows as well as we do that if she doesn't this world ends. Ends, burns, dies, gone, forever. Every time she's so much as late to the party it goes to the brink. You said yourself how close it is to collapse, and that's only going to accelerate. There are terrors you don't even know about rising from the depths. There are monsters you can't imagine crawling out of their holes. We've been pretending Sayanastia is tamed but she's really fucking not and she's one bad hair day away from bringing about another age of ruin. And you think you can stop this? You, fucking, skateboard detective and a couple of muscleheads? Of course you can't stop this. Here's where your investigation is going to lead you: to a full and comprehensive understanding of just how impossibly fucked we are. Something you'd know already if you'd ever had to fight Heron even once."

She took a deep breath, drained the cup a second time, and then closed her eyes and spread her fingers out to either side.

"So if the alternative is certain death, then there is only one thing left to us. To hold the faith. To hold the line. To make sure there are treasures and histories sealed away in the world's fortresses and temples for when the Hero of Ages chooses to reveal herself again. Anything less is simply accelerating the world's decline."

Two cats, two foxes, and a shiny fox crawl up to a castle. Stop me if you’re heard this one.

Or don’t, they all have to stop here anyway. They’re close now. Close enough to make out with the final obstacle between them and all the other obstacles. If it weren’t for all eyes on the hunt, they’d have been spotted long ago. But, well, you don’t get to be a khan by not noticing the funny way the grass moves out the corner of your eye while the rest of your eye is watching a fox expertly hop circles around your hounds.

Someone’s got to do something. A brave someone. A competent someone. A someone who doesn’t need to be told the obvious, ever. Because they know a thing or two about a thing or two. And they are, reliable sources say, really pretty.

“I can distract her while the rest of you get inside.” No jokes. No show. A little bit of fun, yes, can’t forget that. But no jokes. “By the time we’ve drawn heartblades she’ll have called the huntresses back - probably with a horn or something - and then we’ll need someone to come rescue us. Highly embarrassing. Better one of us get her attention, and the rest of us deal with whatever surprises are waiting inside. Besides,” and you, dear Yuki, get a Fluffy Fox Smile, all for you. Don’t spend it all in one place. “Isn’t saving maidens and reuniting lovers a knight’s job?”

He knows what you’re thinking: Hazel, my sweet, how can one foxboy get an entire Khan to leave her post? Surely you’ll be caught in a flash, and then she’ll spot everyone else, and then it’s the horn and the capturing and the embarrassment? Why are you so confident that you, who’s never been a distraction before in his life, can pull this off?

Tsk, tsk tsk~

Easy: He’s not gonna get caught! He’s gonna scamper, and sneak, and swish, and sword, and she’s not gonna catch him! Bing bong so simple! She’s not gonna pounce and bear him to the ground! She’s not gonna pin him helpless beneath all those muscles! She’s not gonna trap both his little wrists in one very big hand and use the other very big hand to cup his very very little chin and breathily growl in his earsies as she interrogates and savors her delicious new boytophy! Trophy! Magical Prince Princess! So! You know! It’s totally fine!!! Not a problem at all, for anybody!!!

Eclair requires a moment to breathe. One sharp intake through her nose, hold two three four five... release from the mouth. She lifts her hand as though to pinch her temple, and slides her fingers smoothly into a still-forming gauntlet of pearly light. She shakes her head. Stands from the table.

She slaps Injimo full across the face.

It was of course possible to punch her again, instead. To kick or throw her through a wall, or try any number of spells and combat tricks to knock her out and try all of this again later. But it was important to make this hurt. In the correct way: to make it sting. Not only through her cheek and into her jawbone, but all the way into the secret reaches of her still-yearning heart.

She turns from the table and walks away, so she can sit with Mayzie. Her thumbs press in tiny, gentle circles across her friends' hands, nudging them, insisting ever so barely that they relax. And even when they do she continues, cupping Mayzie's palm in both of hers like the treasure that it is and massaging it until she feels it finally melt. It's not a gesture she knows from childhood: she has no idea if it is even wanted. It is simply something that she needs to do.

"Cretin. Do not come to me and beg for permission to be a coward. I will simply keep hitting you harder and harder until I find out how much pressure is needed to force your eyes open. Since you're such a believer in the power of a blade to find truth. Now. If you wish to hire a detective..."

She flicks her wrist and summons a teacup, filled with a proper soothing black rounded out with most of a vanilla pod. She throws it across the room to the table, where it slides until it is perfectly in front of Injimo. The liquid inside of it sloshes violently, exploding with droplets that hang in the air and dance madly with the pure chaos of the end of the world. But they settle into the cup again without a single wet drip falling out of place.

"I really don't need to bother. You can't afford my fee. But for your sake, Mayzie, I will say this much: we are not doomed. Just the collection of us in this room are enough, all by ourselves. Even all by myself, I can be enough. I will save all of Thellamie and become a new Hero of Ages, if that's what you ask me to do."

She smiles.

"The proof is in the world around us. If Heron's disappearance signals the impending collapse of the world as we know it then it also by necessity signals its salvation. It has happened every time, no? Even if Thellamie should be rocked to its very foundations, it always endures. A hero always saves the world. But why must it be Heron? Either she is destined to return, in which case I must merely hold the world on my shoulders long enough for her to save it, or she is gone forever. But she is Heron: if she left us, it can only mean we do not need her. So you see, my belo... ahem, my dear, there is no reason not to try."

And now she stands again, and moves to the center of the room. Such as it is. She pulls her curved heartblade, the one with four identical copies of itself that she favors above the rest of her arsenal, directly from her chest in imitation of the proper Kel style. She repeats the process and tosses them to the four corners of Aadya's apartment so that the room crackles with purple thunder.

She smiles and offers a curtsy.

"You must be very tired of hearing me talk about this, aren't you? Well that's too bad~! I am going to continue! I will hypothesize and I will rifle around through your posture and your eye contact and every last shift in the tone of your voice until I have every one of the secrets you wish to hide for your noble cause in the palm of my silly little hand. And then I am going to go out into the world and shine a light on every inconceivable horror you're hiding from until I can conceive of them all. And I will save the world, and not only can you not stop me, I am going to drag you with me. I'll make you my witness. I'll make you my handmaiden. It's ok, you poor little thing, I'll let you be my shadow instead~."

"Unless. Of course."

Eclair curls her hand into a fist. She taps her own cheek with her knuckles while looking straight at Injimo.

And she smiles like a cat.

[Emotional Support: 10]

It was tempting, just so incredibly tempting, to make the entire plan about sending each foxgirl in the party to get captured by a wolfgirl in a giant conga line of distractions. Inara was off on the chase, Hazel was about to get captured by a hot girl wearing an outfit that screamed "I'm more than an extra in a stageplay" and really all Yuki had to do was drop Seli on the tower guards and then Keli on the room guard and she'd have a clear walk to Juniper.

However, as tempting as this plan was, Yuki did not think she had the time or wherewithal to mount four separate rescues and juggle the logistics of getting all of them in and out with the appropriate keys, clothes, and personal effects for Juniper. Also, progressively abandoning each friend she was traveling with to reach an objective was this close to triggering trauma flashbacks for her so that plan was cooked before it ever got going.

So...instead it was actually just infiltrating Crevas all over again, but like, better this time.

She looked at Keli and then she stared at Seli with extended eye contact. "Okay, we're doing the sell me into the fortress plan. But you are leaving the chains unlocked this time. UNLOCKED or no cap I will be so salty when this over. And then we are going to ambush the tower guards the second we're inside, take the keys, release Juniper, and then make our way out. At that point, we will rescue Hazel from being enslaved by the Khanate and then maybe get Inara if she needs getting."

And with that, she let Keli and Seli do their thing as the three of them pushed through a nearly empty camp to the thick, central bone tower that was so old it was bleached nearly white and where Juniper was surely held. Yuki was already counting the breaths to draw her heartaxe and spring the ambush.

All she knew how to do was lose...

"Then I should at least be good at it by now?" murmured Injimo.

Before her was a vision in words and grace. A future. A sun and a shadow. A place. And she wanted -

There was nothing that she wanted. She wanted the win. Wanted to win fucking - something, but she had spent so long in defeat that she did not even know what that looked like. When she tried to imagine what winning even looked like, in general, in this specific instance...?

Was winning breaking this vision? Reducing hope to ash and tears? To what end? Other than Sayanastia's? Was winning -

"Unless." She turned the word over in her mouth. "Unless...?"

More than anything else, she could not move past that word. Unless? What did it mean? Was there another vision there? Another story that those eyes could see, that she could not yet? She could not imagine even one choice and Eclair could see two. She touched her fingers to her cheek. What was the other one? What was this future - this future where she won? She could not see the reflection of it in those beautiful eyes no matter how hard she stared. She couldn't... could almost...

"Unless," she sighed, raising her hands, smile finally breaking. "Until unless, then."

She would need to stare far more closely to see her victory.

The Nexus!

It all went wrong when the Rot Star chased you out of here, didn't it? All of you, all of you lovely, frantic handmaidens. But now that its champion has been brought low by everyone's favorite beautiful heroine, Yuki Edogawa, it's safe to come back inside and survey the damage.

Oh, Eclair, Eclair, Eclair. You thought that the paladin's place was bad? Welcome to the Nexus, where Heron tossed everything useful that she came across. The contents of every interesting crate, every breakable-looking vase, every chest of doubtless-symbolic treasure found in the depths of the Outside, it's all here. I'm sure that as soon as you make any sort of comment about organization, Cair will end up right at your elbow to make a case for it.

But that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that it's absolutely choked with vines. Also, the wandering, aimless undead, like someone decided that the Hero of Ages needed an "endless dungeon" mode with limited enemy variety.

Well. Other than that adorable undead mouse full of moss. That's variety, isn't it?

Mayzie clings to your sleeve, Eclair, doubtless because she's just as overcome by the state that the most legendary hero ever has left her secret base in. You must, of course, reassure her - and, oh you Handmaidens, now is the time to be excellent hosts, if ever you had the power to be so!

---

Yuki!

"I still think you should have come here for university, yah?"

Seli shoves a guard off-balance with a perfectly executed blade lock and shove, then cuts a rope holding up a tapestry so that it falls on them. She flourishes her heartblade with a wink.

"The university at Lapis Lazuli is so very renowned, yes," Keli adds, keeping three other huntresses at bay with a swirling pirouette. "We're majoring in dance and finance!"
"We're getting such good grades in it, you know--"
"--we can definitely be trusted with any questions you might have--"
"--or information you need explained--"
"--or kept in a safe location, yah!"

The big guard (there's always a big guard, isn't there?) flings a silver tea-tray at your head. Better do something clever about that before it smacks your noggin and gives these two wicked girls an opportunity to give you a lesson in personal finance!

---

Hazel!

Isn't it just so unfair when a boss has both a very big weapon (for reach) and quick recoveries after moves?

The way that this woman fights (with a grin, her nose crinkling right next to her eyepatch as she leans in with every swing, showing off sharp teeth and an intense fixation on you specifically) is just like bosses from that one game you all play, the Elven Ring? When she swings her heart down onto the ground in a two-handed pound, it's all you can do to roll out of the way, and she's got a very strong swing-swing-pound dodge canceling into thrust-thrust-backspin.

This is certainly too much for a silly boy to handle, isn't it? You should just give up now. Let her squish your cheeks with one hand as she mocks you for how easy you were to defeat...

Ah.

Hm.

Well.

I guess it's my turn again?

I know.

Like, I really, really do.

So soon, right?

You don't, like

Think that.

Um.

Eclair is a...

Person.

Do you?

Gosh this is awkward.

Ok so for the record I don't think this is your fault. She really does come across as a stapled together collection of, like, ideas. Doesn't she? Like ah yes, of course, the clip-tongued maiden! Bad with words, unless she's not~! She needs a notebook to think in a straight line: this never comes up! The peerless, invincible warrior! If a god smote her with lightning she would simply dodge... no, catch it! But a single mote of stress blips across her brain and, uh, I guess this happens?

Well what is she, really? Is she a clear-eyed sage with every answer? Is she a detective? How much detecting has she really managed, do you think? Is she a shy, pathetic little meowmeow who doesn't know how to handle people? Is that even compatible with the rest of the sales package?

You don't know when she's gonna break! You don't know how! You know she probably will, I bet, but it probably feels pretty friggin' arbitrary how and why and when, doesn't it? What is even the deal with this weird metatexture crap, anyway? What, is she having a breakdown because there's a mess, ooooooh~? Jazz hands? That's a frankly insulting charicature of obsessive compulsion, somebody should be ashamed of themselves. Right? Right? You think so too, right?

I'm Erika Fullbright, by the way. In case you forgot. I think it's been. Er. A minute. Since I told you. This is my parlor scene. It's a layer of abstraction Eclair's brain is using to make sense of what is happening to her. Like, you ever have an out of body experience. Like, uh, uh, um. Uh. Dissociation! Standing outside your own body while someone else pilots it? That's me! Eclair's childhood persona! Eclair's imaginary friend! Eclair's thin line of defense that keeps her from howling like an animal and crying so hard she chokes on her tongue!

Yeah I think I'm pretty cool too, thanks.

But like. Yeah. Ok. I'm stalling. You caught me. Congrats. Happy for you. Nice. Er. Yeah. Anyway.

So.

I just want you to realize that she's a mess. And she's a mess because she's a person. Not a character. Not a story. A person. So, like, yeah. She is invincible. She is fragile. She is comically hyper-competent and a bumbling doofus at the exact same time. She can handle anything and everything up to the exact moment she can't. Because people are like that, aren't they? They way they fit into each others' lives is more like a set of plates that slide against one another and sometimes that makes mountains and sometimes that makes valleys and sometimes you can predict the general shape but you never ever ever ever know. You'll always be surprised.

And.

For the record?

It's not the mess.

You're aware, right?

Eclair Espoir is possibly the most arrogant creature in the world. Dragons fall utterly short of the magnificence that is her own self conception. She is the personification of 'Nah, I'd win.' Even when she insists that someone is her better she is basically lying to you. Like with Heron, ok? I'm pretty sure she's made mention, inside her own head if nowhere else, about the impossibility of imagining her defeated or something like that?

And, uh, ha. Haha. Hahahaha! Yeah, no, like. Eclair has imagined Heron's defeat a lot. At this point she's pretty sure it'd even be easy? Or. Well. She was. See, all of a sudden, faced with this giant pile of plantoid zombie infested crap, she is left with the cold realization that Heron really was built different. How in the hell could anyone manage anything in this level of disorganization? Did she just... know? Everything? Or did she never care in the first place?

That's not something she can overwhelm. That's not somebody she can conquer. The urge to clean is, obviously, so strong she's started to twitch a little, but to even begin the attempt she would have to admit to herself that she can't. She can't clean this. It is too big. Give her the unknowable terrors from beyond the edge of the universe, please. Except don't! Because they and this are both distractions from the case she's on! The case that nobody seems to want to let her follow up on.

In any case she can't admit this. To anybody. She shouldn't even be admitting it to herself! She can't fight off the swarms of trash mobs, Mayzie needs a sleeve to cling to. She can't go dusting, she'll have to stop and then she'll have to deal with having done an inadequate job and we all know where that puts her. She can't fall to pieces at the sight of it all or everyone's gonna know her secret. She's not invincible. She's not. She knows this.

But she has to be.

And that's why we're here, now. Because she can only stand there all stoically and stare. She can't even wonder why she's here in the first place. One supposes it must have something to do with taking the place of-- oh, I'm getting ahead of everything. Sorry. The point is, she's super duper stuck, ok? There's just no way that she could--

"No."

Um? I'm sorry? There's nothing she can do to--

"That isn't true. I would win. I will win. It is as inevitable as the truth."

Oh yeah? Well sheez, make me look all stupid why don't you. What makes you so confident all of a sudden, anyway?

"Because I am here. And she is not."

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Oh. Oh wow.

...Eclair does not move. Eclair does not speak, except to mutter weird things under her breath. Eclair's fingers tighten around Mayzie's, and she holds steady with her double-bladed staff of a heartblade held opposite. That has to be enough for now. That and wondering on some inner path of the maze of her own mind which imbecile was in charge of keeping this place tidy.

And how long ago they got fired. And that is the first step toward salvation.

The collection of eternity shifts. Moves.

Rolls.

At first it seems like the Stacks have destabilized, that the mess is coming down in an avalanche - but no, the edges are too clearly defined for that. It is not a collapse, it is a ball - a vast katamari of swords and dresses and shelves, the accumulated wealth of infinity coming towards you with crushing momentum. But for all its monumental size it does not radiate greed - it leaves wasteful gaps in its trail of destruction, and from the crevasses that run through it, it weeps tears of mercury that pool in its trail.

It comes for you Eclair - not maliciously, not deliberately, but unstoppably. A hoard with no dragon is a terrible thing.

"The potion lab on the east side is full of explosive reagents," said Injimo serenely. This was again the girl who had fought the dragon Morning without a single thought in her head; she might die here but nobody was going to say she hadn't made a good faith effort to solve the tactical puzzle in the so doing. "A flaming arrow shot there would inflict critical damage."

Yuki's heartaxe falls and dissipates into nothing as she grabs the tea tray out of the air and spins with it into a carried flat position. She skips forward daintily, her tail flipping up, as she slips a foot in the way of the third guard dueling Keli. This sends the poor guard sprawling into the arms of her nearby compatriot, while Keli capitalizes on the suddenly unsupported third one and Seli finishes tying up her set into a lovely tapestry depicting the many methods for taming and herding sheep.

As for the big guard, Yuki tiptoes up and gently offers her up her tea tray with one hand and a curtsy. "Excuse me, I think you dropped this, and you wouldn't want it to get dented, I'm sure." She does her best to give her voice the sort of lilt Eclair would in this situation. Not that she's doing exactly as Eclair would here (she imagines that if she were Eclair, she'd have already struck down all seven guards in a blinding flash, actually).

She's not quite at that leve, but her heart axe materializes in her other hand as she releases the curtsy. Despite its heft, she has no trouble holding it out steadily with one hand so that it just ever so very gently caresses the surprised big guard in the chest. "Now, I think you'd like to tell us which cell my friend is in and then hand over your keys, right? And, free bonus, you get to decide if you want to help us out while conscious or unconscious. Stand still for conscious, or twitch aggressively for unconscious, okay?"

[Yuki chooses to entice the guard: 5+4+2=11. She will spend her string immediately to get the guard to help them, though our plucky narrator gets to decide whether that help is willing or takes the form of a useful map on the unconscious person]

Give up? Toss his heartblade into the mud? Let her get those big, grizzled hands on his soft soft cheeks?

That’s a horrible idea! The worst idea! Shame on you Ma’am! You are not helping, not even a little bit. What’d he ever do to you, huh? To anyone? Ever? And yet this is how you treat a poor, imperiled foxboy, bravely putting both of his tails on the line for a noble cause. Shame! Shame on youuuuuuuuu!!!

Why is it such a bad idea I’m so glad you asked. Judges, deduct one Shame Point from the mystical fox lady’s account. So: If she catches him, then she’s not going to be distracted anymore. If she’s not distracted anymore, she might notice what’s going on inside the castle. If she notices what’s going on inside the castle, she might swing-swing-pound dodge cancel into thrust-thrust-backspin all over everybody, and - last he checked - nobody has flasks of any kind! Keli and Seli don’t look like they’ve invested much in Vigor at all! It’d be a disaster!

Hrm? What’s that?

Well. No, he’s not. Exactly thinking of all that while he yipfully dives away moments before he’s pounded flat. There’s an awful lot of heartblade here for one comparatively tiny foxboy. Lottttttta complex mathematics, working at that scale. And, you know, it takes so much thinking to manage two tails at once, so, there’s not really that much room in his noggin left for long-term planning, yah? Erm, yeah?

But! But! That doesn’t mean he’s not focused on the mission! He’s so focused on the mission! He’s been doing such a good job with the mission! Right from the start, when he emerged from the grass, tails shining, glittering void of a blade in hand, gazing over his shoulder at her. Inviting her. Enticing her. Asking her, with flutter and swish, are you satisfied just watching the hunt? Is he satisfied just watching the chase? Why must we be left wanting, hm~?

And! Eep! And he’s kept her attention ever since! All of it! Maybe there’s been less sneaking than intended, and the swishes have been more incidental, but you’d better believe there’s been plenty of scamper and sword! Even though he can’t close the distance. Even though he can’t outrun her. Even though his plain heartblade can do little more than clang uselessly against her giant slab of a weapon. He’s still got her attention! He’s still on his feet!

He!

Is not!

Dwaugh!!!

Easy!!!!!!!

[Rolling to Defy Disaster with Daring: 4 + 5 + 0 = 9. Hazel is risking his pride. The pride of a foxdeerboy who keeps hearing that he’s too silly, too naive, too weak to do anything right.]

Eclair, o, Darling Eclair!

Here's a gift for you: tonight, Mayzie's heartblade is a pin. It is properly sized for her hand, and it has ribbons streaming from its globe of a handguard, and it is every color that your hair has even been, coruscating up and down its wicked, jabbing point. And she is leveling it at the hoard coming against you, uselessly, adoringly, in the hopes that she might somehow buy you another moment.

She reaches for your hand, but stops herself at the last moment, as she realizes: she cannot weigh you down. Whatever you do next, you do with her, but she will not cling. She cannot demand you stay by her side.

She can only hope that she will deserve to stand there with you at the end.

---

Injimo!

The tsundere has just pulled out a heartpin which she doesn't know how to effectively use. Now, I know, and you know, that there isn't a weapon that's been invented on this little world of ours which you don't know how to use, and more importantly, which you don't know how to teach someone how to use.

Three's better than one when it comes to solving a problem of this size, you know. Even if you feel like you've caused it. Even if you're alone. Even if you can't admit you deserve better.

And doesn't her courage remind you of someone?

---

Yuki!

Juniper has fantasies. You know. She keeps brushing up against them in conversation and then using too many exclamation marks when she swears up and down that she's just trying to tell you how wonderful the huntresses of the plains are. She wants to be claimed by her big muscle wolf mommy, and she'd be dizzy with delight to be tied up and thrown into peril just like, um. You know. Somebody. Who is very cleverly evading the hunt and you don't get to ask me how. I need to keep some secrets, you know!

But it's wrong for her to be here, weighed down with chains which writhe like serpents, in a room which is dark and hot and dry and heavy. A room full of shadows which drink light. A room full of whispers which wind about her throat.

She doesn't even look up as you enter the room. The weight of the chains on her shoulders is too great, and the hiss of hate is too loud. Her hair hangs limp and, looking at how she sits, she reminds you of nothing more than a discarded doll.

This is the heart of the Khatun. Not in a literal stab-and-she-dies sense, but this is what came out of it to confine an unwanted complication.

"...oh, it's worse in here now," the guard breathes from somewhere impossibly vast behind you.

And then there's the shake of a tambourine. There's the clap of two hands. There's an irreverent little laugh. And there's a swirl of colors, too rich for the darkness to devour.

There is a way through. Trust in my daughters to be your liferaft when you dive in.

---

Hazel!

So here's what you can do, bright little boy clinging to the ebb of his stolen light: you can lose, and keep her attention, and feel like you did such a good job, and eventually you will be saved by Yuki on her way out, and you'll be twitterpated and everyone will coo at you and say that you did the best that you could.

Or. You. Can. Win.

In this moment, you suddenly see it: the thrust, the flinging into her arms, the way you'll knock her down. You'll have won your first heartblade duel ever, and then suddenly you'll be in charge of what happens next. She could still call for help. She could struggle back to her feet despite the overwhelming shock of being stabbed with your heart. Suddenly it'll be your turn to distress someone.

Can you do it? Or do you flinch and stay the safe and easy boy?

The bow is already in her hands.

No. Wait. This is not... not the right... this is? The polearm I was already wielding? With a string? What did? How did? When did? Why would? It doesn't make--

Glance at Mayzie. Comprehend. Comprehend!

Bowstring pulled. Aim established. Arrow lacking. Compensated with unshaped magic. One. Two. Three weapons' worth. Is, is this? Why they call me the Violet Flash? Glance again. Open mouth, intention to ask question.

A bolt of raw, violet lightning is already flying at the out of control junk heap threatening the three of them. Eclair's bowstring still sings, even as it dissolves from the force of the attack into immaterial light.

From the outside, it must have seemed like a perfect strike. Next to no time after the suggestion was given, in fact within seconds of seeing Mayzie's heartpin, a thin strand of golden light had formed between the blades of her pole and bent it back into the shape of a beautiful bow made of gold and pearls. She'd lifted the weapon high and plucked the string back to her cheek, even as she'd fashioned an arrow out of violent, violet coruscating lightning that for all its jagged convulsing even managed to look like an arrow as it lay notched against the string.

There had been a small delay, during which waves of magic seemed to wash over her like the tides, briefly giving Eclair Espoir the appearance that she had grown wings in the usual flavor of her heart's power. She didn't call out a name for the technique or anything, it wasn't like it had one to begin with. But she turned her head, and did not even watch her arrow as she loosed it.

And now it is in the air, tearing its angry mark through the air toward that open window exactly where Injimo had said it should fly. It is something less than a flaming arrow, but surely a burst of concentrated heat and energy can cause just as much of a conflagration? Did you know, the funny thing is, Eclair is not even particularly into lighting as a motif? It's not like she knows lightning magic, really. It's not like she's any classifiable type of mage.

She'd just... caught a particular spear in a teacup a while back and, you know, all of the associated parties from that moment were here in a room with her so she'd been thinking about it a lot and well, here we are. Does it even bear mentioning that the shot manages to slip right through the window as it rolls back across the ground again? It doesn't, right? Like, that was never the point of this. Obviously she hit! Obviously the whole damn thing explodes! Obviously it's super pretty and pearlescent and all that happy stuff while it does so! What are those bits of silver mixed in with the... no who cares, we'll get to that some other time!

Eclair's entire heartblade has fizzled. Her cheeks are as rosy as any other blushing, useless maiden's. Her hands are twitching as they cross over her mouth and she is completely ignoring the maelstrom of falling debris in favor of gawking at Mayzie Sighs. Her tail is so thoroughly bushed that it is now possible to see the tips of the pale blonde fur that rests at the base where it has been least freshly dyed.

Oh she is smitten. She got smotened hard just now. She is, uh, how would Yuki Edogawa say it? Down bad? Arr Enn?

"S-Si-since when did you? I mean did! Were you! Was I? Sh-should we have tea? I mean coff-- no! I mean a da, uh, I, uh, um what... er... oh, shit.

"Oh shit. I just screwed it all up. That was meant to be a moment to! And I just! Eclair, you idiot! You idiot!"

And then she is crying into the palms of her hands. Someone else will need to handle the cleanup.

The Mercury Golem does not let anything go.

It is not, to be clear, capable of stopping, containing or mitigating the explosion. The detonation flings debris and shards in every direction. But around every shard of glass is wrapped a grasping tendril, desperately clutching to this might still be useful. A kalideoscopic splash of silver spreads out and spreads thin, the shape of an anorexic giant blotting out the non-sky, shining with the polychrome glitter of a billion glass shards. Three quarters of its great spherical bulk is still intact, a cracked silver egg, a broken crystal planet.

Unbalanced, it falls. The vast mass of it, all the razor glass shards, all the gossamer thin ribbons of mercury, tumbling down. The broken sphere spills even more mercury as it rolls forwards like an overbalanced cauldron. The vast weight of it descends, more bladed hailstorm than deliberate attack. Parry this, as the proverb goes, you fucking casual.

"When your opponent uses a powerful attack," Injimo said serenely to Mayzie, raising her blade. "Enter a defensive stance and wait for your moment." She is as calm as the tea she recently drank, not a ripple on her surface. She takes a step and leaps up into the impossible curtain of glass. She goes either to certain death or to demonstrate how it is done. She knows heroics are beyond her in this moment; there is no way she could save anyone else from this storm. All she can do is make sure that they don't have to get it right on the first try.

Trust, dear fox who is bouncing so enticingly to perform her job as a distraction? No, you’ve got it a little wrong. Asking Yuki to trust your little daughters implies she has time to make a plan, time to hesitate. That’s not what’s happening here. The word you’re looking for is hope. The jingle and clap is the sound of hope for a girl who had no plan but dove straight into that room and whose heart was already flaring brightly as she cut at the shadows.

Does the Khatun feel this? Sure, it’s not her literal heart or her special weak point or anything. But does she feel it, like a little mosquito bite as a girl slams her heart against the reflection of the Khatun’s true self? Even more importantly, can Yuki tell she feels it? Can Yuki get the satisfaction of knowing that somewhere out there, the woman who cast these shadows can feel the curses being leveled at her and the fury behind them? Because she’d like that a lot.

There is no question of Yuki’s heart cutting through these shadows. Of her unlocking the chains and hefting Juniper’s limp form over her shoulders. The only question is where, exactly, Yuki’s mad heroics need a little fox magic to buoy them.

-CLANG!-

A suggestion of a sword strikes a mountain. The impact carries down his arm. The note lingers in his ears, louder than her blade pounding the earth. The blow will land a step away from where she meant it to. Just as he will step, and untwist from the parry, and she will not have a hand free to stop him. She will fall. He will soar.

All flowing from that one, beautiful clang.

It will not be enough to end this. It cannot be enough to end this. The stab is full of joy, of thrill, of light, of hunger. The pounding heart that courses through her has yet to drink its fill. It cannot be enough to end this. She will still be awake.

She will hear his laugh.

“Another!”

The grin is full of teeth and triumph, breath and bite.

“Let’s have another dance, khan!”

The boy, the body, the blade, flickering, flicking, feverish

“Come on! The hunt’s still young!”

[Rolling to Entice the wolfgirl: 2 + 3 - 1 = 4, a foxy number]

Eclair Espoir!

As the sky falls, as your wrist is grabbed and you are pulled into what is called "bullet hell" on Yukisearth, as Mayzie throws herself into hell in order to find a path through with you as you malfunction from love of a girl--

What secret or mystery about her irresistibly draws you in? There must be something which sets your thoughts a-sparking as you graze the collapsing collection of lost bric-a-brac and treasures and health potions (never used)...

---

Handmaidens!

Injimo, naturally, throws herself towards destruction. But she is not alone. She has never been alone, all this time - not when waiting for Heron to need her tutelage, not when training obsessively, and not now, in the heart of Cair.

She does not get through this on her own strength. Tell us whose strength protects her as she makes her way through the storm, or whose affection for her. Show this yearning knight that there is someone who values her.

---

Yuki!

It's the way out that's always tricky. The shadows writhe and burn and attempt to coil around you - only, the music drives it back, tamps it down, leaves you a winding path to the exit.

Halfway out, Juniper gasps and clings to you. Tears run down her face as she says: "I knew the hero would come to save me." And she lifts her head and prays to me as you claw your way out of the abyss of the Demon Queen.

And then you are out, all of you, and Juniper is coughing and curling up around you - until she lifts her head, and her eyes are little embers. "I don't know what she's doing," she says, even as Seli is pulling her hair back and weaving a hair tie into place, "but we have to stop her. We have to save Olesya."

---

Hazel!

So, as it turns out? The khan's good at poker faces. Because the first you know of the hunters - her hunters - which have doubled back is when you're grabbed from behind. Big, strong, powerful arms. Suddenly, you're out of options for fighting.

Hot breath on the back of your neck. The laughter of huntresses - half a dozen of them - closing in around you. Olesya was respectful of you, for all that she could bench press you, but you are now surrounded by very disrespectful women.

There is delight in the khan's eye as she lifts your chin with her hand, grip on your jaw firm. "Well, well, well," she breathes (in your face (her breath is shaky)). "Looks like the Golden Fawn's been caught. Think we could have some fun with the catch before we string him up and bring him to the Khatun, girls?"

Grips tighten. It's very apparent, suddenly, how hard everyone involved here has been exerting themselves. And how delighted they are that you have been caught. And how delighted they will be to make sure that you stay caught.

Are you going to be a brat? Or will you be a good boy? Either way: take a String on the Khan Mikela the Fierce, and give her a String and a kiss in turn. She's important now. You made that happen with the last of my light!

It is reductive and rude to boil Mayzie Sighs down to a word as boring as 'potential'.

Nevertheless.

What other word suffices? The woman is a black hole of possibilities. Her temperament is sharp, but her worldview and tendencies are decidedly blunt. Wherever she goes she always manages to give off the impression that she is thinking a lot and would very much prefer not to be. She furrows her brows at the simplest challenges, shies away from the implications of trite deductions, but when her mind does alight on a puzzle she can pierce it so quickly and thoroughly that it bores her.

That look in her eyes. The half-lidded expression when her lips purse tight and she shrugs her shoulders to pronounce judgment. As a child, Eclair found it delightful. As an adult, it is...

Lower thighs, twist shoulders fourteen degrees. Flatten right ear, raise up. Reach out, seize subject underneath right armpit and both knees. Lift. Tense legs, dig balls of feet into ground. Gather power and, dash!

Eclair leaps through the zone of debris like a bolt of electricity. Though the tower is falling, she climbs it as only a practiced wall runner can. A foot here, tap there, hup hup hup hup five six seven eight and down. Up-left, hard right, down-left, up-left, up-right, down-right, down, down, down. Every piece of debris her foot touches shatters under the impact of the bursts of Light she uses to propel herself and her reclaimed damsel forward. Her tail swishes behind her, both as counterbalance and to collect a long string of healing potions before they can shatter, which will in any case prove useful in the near future.

...And she completely misses the shard of stone that comes whistling for her eye. Misses it just as it misses her. Because Mayzie sighs has pierced it with her needle-dagger. Her whole body flushes with heat to match a fireplace.

Since when?? Since when did Mayzie understand how to alter a heartblade?! The woman allowed herself to languish in a bath house, for Evening's sake, she called herself washed up and ugly! But so sharp! So fast! So perfect! How much of Mayzie is the result of choices she has made, the result of interests she both does and does not have? If she cared to at all, how many months, weeks... days? Would it take for her to eclipse the Violet Flash?

And yet, she is quiet. And yet, she did not run from Vespergift until there were people who needed help. And yet, she has always sought the simplest expression of her life. It would be possible to ponder her for a dozen years or more and still be discovering anomalies, secret treasures of new perspective and history and...

Eclair wants it. All of it. The power. The ability. And the will to use none of it. She could live the rest of her life like this. She really, truly could. But only if...