Remram
Achronum@LuckyBlackCat Ack I completely forgot to tack on the toadstool thing but I blame it on it being late, but thanks, I’ll move him!
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@LuckyBlackCat Dropping this off and joining the Discord, lemme know if there's anything to fix
— Moved —
— Moved —
Gonna drop interest for an orchid boy
Eryn Montero
Wet Caverns || Day 5: Afternoon
On the way to the Wet Caverns, Eryn regaled her team with her time underwater, telling them about what she’d seen and found in giddy tones that only quieted when she realized how much of a racket she was making. Listening closely were Eri and Dei, who only stopped to address brief questions from each other. Dei seemed rather grumpy about the whole thing, which Eryn put down to her decision not to bring him along, while Eri was simply fascinated by what’d happened. Though she felt bad for them for different reasons, she’d apologized already, and Dei was the type to brood anyway.
Behind them was Kylie, who seemed to be caught between listening to her and watching her teammates, and Eryn caught her with narrowed eyes and pursed mouths more than once before the Mawile noticed her gaze and relaxed into ditsy smiles. If Eryn considered only at the moments when she caught Kylie off guard, she would’ve assumed the Mawile to be more interested in watching her teammates struggle to understand what Eryn was telling them, but those were rare moments. More frequent were her endearing glances and happy smiles, which Eryn was struggling to believe at times now. The speed at which she could raise a smile was frightening, and though Eryn hadn’t caught her dropping one yet, she had a feeling that the day was coming.
Peri and Tula brought up the rear in terms of interest. Where Peri appeared to be bored by the story, her eyes wandering from the path and to the distance multiple times, Tula seemed uninterested simply because she always did. Though she wiggled in Eryn’s arms, her eyes retained their ever-glassy sheen, and Eryn found it hard to tell whether she was wiggling because she understood or because it was simply something to do.
Still, Eryn found more than enough of an audience in Eri and Dei, and she pushed on with her tale. By the time the group arrived at the cavern entrance, she was just about done fielding questions, though she was forced to stop when Peri took off in another direction. Her initial confusion gave way to surprise as she realized that Peri was leading them towards the collapsed wall she’d exited through last time she was here, and she was all grins when Peri started digging through the fallen dirt and rocks without much effort.
“Nice going, Peri!” she said, grinning and patting her Onix as she stepped through the newly-reopened entrance. “Guess we won’t be dodging Graveler after all.”
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she was better able to make out the tunnels around her, which were as confusing and disorganized as she remembered them to be.
Her eyes caught on something small poking out of the ground nearby, and she beamed, waving. “Hi Ms. Diglett!”
Walking over to the small brown Pokemon, she crouched, Tula wriggling in her arms. “Do you know how I can get in contact with Mr. and Mrs. Onix? I wanted to show them, well, their daughter.”
She grinned, looking behind her to Peri, who seemed to be caught between agitation and confusion, looking rapidly around her at the tunnels before them. “You good?” she asked, straightening and taking a few steps towards the Onix. “What’s wrong?”
Peri barely spared her a glance before straightening, rising up to her full height, which was surprisingly small compared to the tunnel ceiling. It wasn’t until Peri started opening her mouth that it clicked for Eryn, and her grin dropped off her face as she grabbed Tula close, attempting to cover where she thought the Magikarp’s ears might be.
“She’s gonna bl—”
Sure Peri was smaller and younger than the last Onix that Eryn had heard roar in these tunnels, but these were tunnels—smooth, long echo chambers with minimal insulation and maximum echo space. Though this roar was softer on Eryn’s eardrums, her ears didn’t exactly enjoy the experience, and she was barely able to resist the urge to duck again, previous knowledge or not.
“Well, a little warning next time would be nice!” she called up to Peri, rubbing a throbbing ear as the roar faded into the tunnels. The look Peri threw down at her and the rest of their team was equal parts amused and smug, and Eryn could only sigh in response as she walked over and patted the Onix, her hand bouncing harmlessly off the Onix's flank. “Do it for everyone’s ears, at least. Going deaf isn’t on anyone’s to-do list.”
In
The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.
→
4 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Shopping Trip.
Ft. Keaton (@Typical), Lynn (@Luminous Beings), and Natalie (@Silver Carrot)Keaton stood to the side of the mall entrance, phone in hand. On it was the text conversation that had brought her here, which had started as an update on the ongoing gardening but had somehow led to the suggestion of and agreement on a shopping trip. Personally, Keaton didn’t need anything, but the concept of going to the mall had been so comfortingly normal that she’d agreed without hesitation. Sitting around had never been her thing, and having a reason to get out would both help their cover and keep her on her feet, which was always a bonus these days. If she also got to forget about the cloud hanging over them all for a few minutes, all the better.
The concept of dressing up for a shopping trip had encouraged her to brush up with some light makeup, mostly to hide the circles under her eyes. Aside from that, she’d taken enough time in front of her closet to have paired her newest denim jacket with a pair of black jeans, a graphic tee, and a slightly less beat-up pair of tennis shoes. It’d felt a bit strange, picking her outfit like that, and it’d made her realize that it’d been a while since she didn’t dress on autopilot. Still, it was a comforting sort of strange, and it brought her back to better days, which was her goal for today. She wanted to make sure today was a fun day—one that’d be a fond memory no matter how much she had to emulate happiness or excitement.
Lynn fumed the whole way to the mall. The last time she’d been to the mall hadn’t exactly been a barrel of monkeys - and if it had been a barrel of monkeys, all the monkeys were like, for sure dead, so it sucked either way. The last time she’d - Lynn missed a step, stumbling as she remembered burning him, the smell of scorched flesh - his flesh, and then (in a brief minute, Lynn smelled Archie’s burning arm, saw the gun barrel melt into that kid’s shoes, saw Salamandra’s eyes bulge, saw all of it again). Lynn went to rest her hands in her hoodie pocket almost of habit, and her small pale fingers fumbled in the open air. “Ugh,” she muttered. “Fuckin’ terrorists.” Lynn shook her head. Lynn found it hard to materialize reasons to go to Earth after this. She had always to some degree lived a week, a day, a month, an hour at a time. Whatever the situation looked like. The idea of going back to Earth and, well, living - it was strange. Like riding off into the sunset or a happy ever after.
However, Lynn was accustomed to having a good reason to not die. As a kid, it was Che. In juvy, it was - well, staying alive to kill Che. Here, it was Gennedy. For the first time, beyond whatever last dance fuckery was waiting up in the Spire, Lynn felt the first genuinely good reason to try to make it back to Earth. A goal. I am going to whip the asses of every last one of those gen one motherfuckers that stormed the Promise. Lynn thought. She idly tucked that away for later. First off, she’d have to learn a lot of Chinese, which was going to be a hassle, because Lynn had a sneaking suspicion it had very little overlap with Spanish. They don’t even have letters, Lynn thought. I’m probably fucked right out the gate on that one. How do you even, like, sound it out that way?
Lynn puzzled over this linguistic hurdle to her revenge plans as she meandered towards the mall. The text was - well, first off, Lynn didn’t like group texts, namely because who actually needed to tell that many people the same thing at the same time, and there was more chance for someone else to get the message, and also, it just felt weird - but she had to admit the mall at least meant if Gennedy’s dogs tried to make a scene, it would be one hell of a scene. Of course, that didn’t stop Michael and Jackson from Cheshire Catting their way into the food court. Lynn shook her head. She didn’t like wearing a t-shirt. Her arms were very pale and thin, and all her tattoos were visible, which got even more strange looks than her hair did. Lynn had seen a dude on here who had four arms, but she swore her flickering hair got more double-takes. Even the giant lizard got less scrutiny. For a brief flickering moment Lynn felt her stomach upend, twist into a double-helix, and then unspiral as she wondered if Archie would be here, and if so if they were - would she have time to get good clothes before - no, wait, he wasn’t in the group - but would he come anyway? He might -
Lynn saw Denim and walked over, entirely unaware that her hair was, at least for a few brief seconds, a soft shade of pink. She shook the thoughts out of her head - something that was increasingly harder to do on the Promise these days (since the hospital bed at least, which Lynn could still not make sense of - that, the Chinese language, and Gennedy, all that stood in her way). As she saw Keaton her hair and eyes flickered to a light blue, like the heart of a gas fire.
“Denim,” Lynn said. A squirrel ran past, and Lynn watched it go. Wait. It stood up, sniffing the air, and had, like, antennas and stuff. Lynn opened her mouth to curse out Leotard but caught herself. She simply sighed (the air shimmered with a heat mirage) and rubbed at her eyes. “God. I’d say we should hit the food court first but maybe we just avoid that place.”
Keaton had learned early on that Lynn’s hair reflected her mood, and she was glad for the obvious tell on someone who seemed perpetually wary and annoyed. That said, she was by no means an expert at reading the colors of said tell, but she knew the basics. Both hue and intensity mattered, for one. Darker colors represented heavier or stronger moods, and lighter colors represented softer or gentler ones. Same went for the colors themselves, which could be divided into warm and cool tones. Those often corresponded to happier and sadder emotions respectively, with exceptions.
Upon arrival, Lynn’s hair was pale pink, which quickly shifted into a light blue when she focused on Keaton. The light blue denoted a friendly mood and was associated with Keaton herself, which was flattering and likely inspired by her denim jackets, she figured. The pink, though, was trickier. While she’d seen it a few times, every time it’d been brief, and Lynn had never said much while that color was around. It was some complex emotion, then, and the obvious guess—love—had both seemed and been wrong, as noted by her power. Asking, however, was out of the question, so she’d never made much headway with that color. Trying to read Lynn’s emotions from her hair was already invasive enough, and Keaton had no doubts that Lynn would respond poorly to any attempt to pry at private and likely sensitive thoughts.
Seeing Lynn’s attention catch and stay on a passing squirrel brought a smile to her face. Only Lynn would be wary of even wildlife, though Keaton knew from discussions with Nic that he could infect small mammals too, so… maybe Lynn’s wariness wasn’t all that unwarranted. The powers employable by the Staff were limitless, after all.
“Hey,” she answered with a grin. At Lynn’s comment on the food court, she pursed her lips, thinking back to Black and White. Meeting them seemed like ages ago, and though they were still a concern, there was little she could do to combat what seemed like relative omnipotence, and little need to consider it on what was actually a mundane shopping trip.
“I’d say some food sounds great. Buying milkshakes isn’t against the rules, last time I checked,” she said, her tone teasing before she sobered up, her eyes dropping to the floor beside them. “Besides, we got through the woods alright the other day.” Her voice had quieted, and she felt an edge of numbness—of cold and dark—creep up, but she quickly shook her head, replacing her grin as she refocused on Lynn. “But nevermind that. Do you have anything specific you want to get today? I’m not an expert on the stores, but if we stop by a map I can probably get a grasp on things quickly.”
Lynn’s face scrunched slightly as she saw the older girl looking at her. Lynn had resigned herself to that feeling when she’d first approached Denim for help, all those months ago - she’d known that having the girl who could figure anything out in her corner meant, well, she’d be figured out. Still, it rankled Lynn. Keaton had never been anything but polite, but occasionally she almost wanted to shake the knowledge out of her. How much did she know about Lynn? What was she holding back? Lynn didn’t like the idea that anybody knew more about her than her. The last person who had -
Lynn shook her head. “We got through the woods fine. Jello burns like anything else. Or boils, or whatever, I don’t know what they put in it.” She chewed on her lip. Food did sound really good. Lynn had, quite frankly, been consuming near-Olympian levels of calories in an attempt to stock up for the almost-certain holy war that was bound to take place in the Spire. Having started so underweight, she wasn’t about to visibly put on weight in a manner of days, but she’d certainly gained at least a few pounds. Lynn had aimed to eat at least three hundred calories an hour she was awake, although she conceded alcohol was somewhat like cheating. God bless El Vaquero, she thought to herself. I just asked my boss if I could take a whole thing of queso and he told me why the fuck not. “Yeah, let’s grab food,” Lynn said. Denim looked a bit rattled by what she’d said, and Lynn knew where her thoughts had wandered, even if Lynn couldn’t have articulated the emotionality of it well-enough. “Lots of food,” Lynn spurted out quickly, her brain scrambling for some kind of distraction to throw at her while she started walking. “I - what I want to get?” Lynn frowned. “I just thought I’d get like another hoodie or something. I didn’t - “ her frown deepened. “Wait, what did you come here to get?”
Natalie spotted Keaton and Lynn, and waved at them as she approached, smiling. She had been the one during the group chat to suggest this mall trip in the first place, after seeing how busy everybody else had been. She wanted to give them a chance to relax, and have some fun while they could. It was also partly guilt, as she hadn’t done a whole lot to help. She wasn’t smart, or good at planning. She didn’t have connections. Mentally, Nat was still sixteen, even if her eyes carried a worn-down weariness of a woman in her fifties.
Natalie turned the corner before Keaton could get to responding to Lynn’s question, and Keaton returned her wave readily. “Hey Natalie!” she said, grinning as she noted the girl’s good spirits. Though she’d been surprised when Natalie raised the idea of going to the mall, it’d been a good sort of surprise that she’d jumped on. Lynn and Natalie were always the two most in need of something as fun and normal as a mall trip, and while Keaton was by no means well-versed in fashion and the like, she figured she could still offer guidance in mall-crawling.
“We were just talking about getting food first. Did you eat yet?” she asked as Natalie walked over. Then, turning back to Lynn, she figured there was no answer better than the truth here and settled for an awkward smile. “And, honestly, I don’t think I need much. Maybe new socks? I mainly came to get out and have fun, and I honestly miss walking around the mall with a milkshake or smoothie in hand.” She shrugged and looked at Natalie. “Did you have anything specific you wanted to get? Otherwise I’m fine with just wandering through all the stores.”
Lynn sensed a set-up. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, which annoyed her, but there was definitely some angle here. She glanced down at Keaton’s hands. Her nails were chewed up, at least. Lynn took that as a positive sign towards them not giving her a manicure or something, but the suspicion remained. They’re trying to Pretty Woman my ass, aren’t they? Lynn thought. That had been the least realistic movie Lynn had ever seen, for a list of reasons Lynn would happily expound upon once inebriated.
“Yeah, socks,” she said, turning and seeing Natalie. “What’s up, Spoons,” she said. Truthfully, Lynn couldn’t fully remember why she called Spoons Spoons, but it felt like a lack of integrity to stop calling her that now. The others would wonder if their names weren’t as important or something. Spoons was smiling, which wasn’t too common. Figures. There was a terrorist attack or prison break every other week here, which was part of the reason it baffled Lynn that the others in the group actually did their homework and stuff. “Long as we get some food I’m good or whatever,” Lynn said.
Natalie reached the group. She was back to wearing jeans and cardigans again, but even so, her outfit looked trendier, of better quality and actually fit, indicating that it had been bought at some point since the shooting.
“Glad you both came!” she started, before both the girls mentioned food. “And no, I haven’t eaten yet. Haven’t eaten today, actually. There’s no fridge in my block. It’s the, uh….that block.” They’d both know what she meant by that. Natalie had never discussed her living arrangements before. Some places here were like hotels or apartments. Some were like hostels or student accommodation. And there were some that was more like a prison or asylum than anything else. The people who lived there were not criminals, but were nevertheless dangerous, or would otherwise need their furniture replaced almost daily if they were allowed any.
“So yeah! Food sounds real good right now!”
Lynn’s silence tipped Keaton off to her thoughts since Lynn tended towards a few specific emotions and suspicion was one of the more common ones. That said, Keaton couldn’t tell what exactly she was suspicious about, and considering that Lynn still agreed and greeted Natalie, it didn’t seem like a big deal, so she didn’t think more of it.
At Natalie’s comment about her residence, Keaton paused, looking at the girl. She’d always been aware that Natalie wore makeup to hide the bags under her eyes, if only because that was an extremely common tactic that she herself used at times, and though she’d figured Natalie as someone who didn’t sleep too well, she’d never given much thought as to her living situation. Natalie’s words, however, painted the picture for Keaton. Even the smallest, cheapest accommodations had fridges, or at least the option to tack on a fridge, so not having one meant Natalie was in the other type of housing—the type that people could voluntarily choose to live in, was bare minimum because furniture was constantly getting replaced, and Keaton had tagged enough boxes in the loading bay to know that they were replaced quite often.
“Right, yeah, let’s get going then,” she said, her grin automatic as her mind struggled to move on from the thought. Since Natalie had never brought it up, Keaton had defaulted to the assumption that everyone was living in normal housing units, but… it checked out. She’d seen firsthand how Natalie’s switch could flip at the sight of blood, but she hadn’t connected it to an everyday thing until now. Sleeplessness was a lot of things, and for Keaton it meant being able to avoid nightmares, but it was different for Natalie.
The beeline to the food court was a short one, and after some minutes of lines and waiting for food to come out, they’d amassed a small table’s worth of milkshakes, fries, pretzels, and fried chicken. Though she hadn’t eaten breakfast, she wasn’t too hungry in general these days, but she made herself eat along, slowly making her way through a hunk of fried chicken with her milkshake—cookies and cream because Oreos—by her side.
“There’s something about mall food,” she said as she looked over the chicken, then at the other two girls, “but, well, maybe it’s the people.”
She cleared her throat, realizing that she’d just said something weird that she probably should’ve kept to herself. “Sorry, I’ve been kinda out of it these days. Planning’s got me up at odd times at night, and sleep has been, well, not great.” She looked between Lynn and Natalie, pausing before speaking again. “How have you two been holding up?”
Lynn bl(w)inked. She hadn’t said much, mostly because she was never totally sure how to strike up a conversation with Spoons, and Denim was better at words than she was, anyway. Lynn eyed Spoons as they walked, almost absent-mindedly. She’d also felt something was a bit off, not something she could fully pin down - there was the narc’ing incident, but after a great deal of contemplation Lynn had come to realize Spoons was not an actual narc, just someone who believed at that point the Promise security forces were capable of helping people. This was equally unforgivable, but in a different way. Still, Lynn couldn’t quite grapple with it. Spoons was taller than she was, and skinny, but the good kind, not like Lynn. Her skin was pale too, but - better, not scratched and littered with tattoos. Lynn couldn’t figure it out and didn’t particularly care to, because something about it rattled her the longer she thought about it. She always felt dumb around Keaton, but, you know, everyone did. Something about Spoons made Lynn feel smaller, but she didn’t think anybody else did. It happened sometime with Eli and Keaton too, but less often, less since they’d hung out more. Lynn didn’t like it. She wondered where the Boat Farmer was. She got food.
Had Lynn paid enough attention in history to know what the Oregon Trail was, she may have recognized she got nearly enough food to sustain a family of settlers, their oxen, and any strangers they stopped to help along the way. Pointedly skipping over the food court, Lynn got food from nearly everywhere else. I should rob my dealer more often, she thought through a mouthful of french fries. His superpower is like, hearing better or some shit, why didn’t I do this before? Lynn precariously balanced a tray on her hand as she held two other bags of food around the crook of her elbow, with a milkshake tucked in her shoulder. Lynn never drank milkshakes often, because they melted so fast, but the move was to put as many calories into her body as possible.
Maybe the people? Lynn frowned. What were mall people? Mall people here were a lot different from mall people back home. Back home, you went to the mall parking lot for the real entertainment. “Yeah I think it’s the food,” Lynn said, swallowing the last of her fries and throwing the crumpled up trash bag towards a trash can. It missed. Keaton’s next question caught her a bit off-guard. She started to speak, then stopped. How do I say this without, like, - shit, what? Lynn glanced and saw Denim’s eyes looked nearly as baggy as Spoons. At least you still have two. She racked her brain for some way to boost spirits a bit. Threatening to kill Gennedy usually did the trick for her, but Spoons still had something of a tenuous faith in the justice system. Lynn sighed (the air shimmered). “I mean, honestly, shit’s about the same. I just run into stuff more often.”
Natalie had practically inhaled her food. Poor girl must have been starving. While the other two finished, she watched them. So this was what normal felt like, huh? Not trying to be somebody else, but just relaxing, and spending time with your friends. Were they friends? Natalie thought so. Natalie wondered if Lynn, deep down, also thought so secretly.
“I’ve been holding up quite well, actually,” Nat answered. “I’ve actually been sleeping better since the attack. Maybe it’s just having something else to be afraid of. Though I feel like you’re both taking on more than your fair share. If there’s anything I can do to help in the planning and prep, please let me know.”
Seeing the other two shovel down food was comforting, and Keaton smiled at Lynn’s assertion that it must have been the food, nodding. It was definitely the people.
Lynn’s vague assertion of “stuff” gave her pause as she tried to figure out what the girl meant by the word. When she came up empty-handed, she settled for trying to figure out whether Lynn was attempting to cover something with the word, which she was not. “Stuff,” then, was likely not a huge concern, and Keaton figured she could always come back to it if it got brought up again.
Hearing that Natalie was doing well brought her smile back, though it faltered when she mentioned Keaton and Lynn doing more than their fair share. When it came to planning, there was no one better suited to her job, better able to perform her job, so there was no concept of a fair share for Keaton. There was only what would work best, what would give them the biggest edge, the best chance of getting out the other side in one piece. Sure she was doing most of the planning, but that’s how it went when your power was suited for planning. On the day they actually carried out the plan, she’d be relying on every one of them, and likely more than they relied on her, so it was only fair that she pulled her weight now.
“Honestly, I think you’d help best by just continuing to do what you’ve been doing,” she said, thinking her words over before she said them. Natalie was expressing her desire to help, and Keaton wanted to let her down lightly. “Nic and I have the planning part handled, so you sleeping well and getting in top shape for when we actually head in is more than I could ask for. Both of you,” she said, glancing at Lynn, “so eat up.”
Though she wasn’t a particularly fast eater, Lynn and Natalie were, and there were multiple moments during their scarfing when Keaton had to check who’d eaten more. By the end, however, she’d lost track, and her power was no longer able to tell her who ate what or how much, so she was left to figure a fifty-fifty split or bust, which, again, was not confirmed by her power.
Armed with her now half-empty milkshake, Keaton led the way through the mall, eyeing stores as they passed. “How about this one?” she asked when they reached a generic fashion brand Keaton recognized from the mall back home. It was tailored towards younger adults, retaining a sort of casual hipster vibe, and when the answer didn’t come fast enough, she rolled her eyes. “C’mon, we might as well start somewhere,” she said, leading the way into the store.
Immediately inside were the featured styles dressed on mannequins, which usually consisted of the more expensive and newly released items, Keaton figured. Racks were lined up beside the mannequins, offering size and color options while touting their year-round twenty percent deals, and a few people milled around in the store, providing ambient chatter to the otherwise unintrusive pop song playing in the background. Towards the back the store split into a mens and womens section, one to either side of the store, though Keaton knew from experience that then mens’ tended to be more limited, whether by addition of overstock or just smaller in general.
“You said you wanted a hoodie?” Keaton asked, glancing at Lynn before pointing out the jacket section. “I think this store has a lot of graphic hoodies, though they sort them with their jackets.” She grinned. “You two wanna try on some denim jackets though? They’re not the warmest, but that’s kinda the point.”
Lynn scowled as Denim nudged at her to eat up but said nothing. Lynn had always had difficulty explaining - especially to that fucking doctor - it wasn’t a lack of eating on her part, she just couldn’t keep it on. Regardless, she said little as they ate, preferring to shove as many calories down her throat as she possibly could. She did pause briefly to wonder who Nic was. Leotard? Spoons mentioned sleeping better and a brief image of company over helping her with that made Lynn choke on her shake for a second. She paused, wondering why that had - why he’d - it just didn’t make sense. They wouldn’t allow that, anyway. What was - she didn’t give a shit to begin with, so it didn’t matter. Just a stupid thing. Lynn had forgotten what quality consistent sleep was like, anyhow. “Long as you trust whatshisface to think better than he dresses,” Lynn chimed in. The mall was noisy enough she doubt even the Toaster could eavesdrop through their phones, but a good deal of caution was probably advisable.
Lynn got up significantly more sluggishly than she had sat down and idled along after the two through the mall. While she would never outright admit it, there were very few people Lynn could comfortably walk alongside without having to visibly hurry along, and so she preferred a more casual stroll to force other people to slow down to her level. You looked less like a bitch that way. Still, she found herself power-walking to catch up with the taller girls more frequently than she thought she might normally have done, and wasn’t sure why that was.
“Uh,” Lynn said, a bit taken aback by the shopping request. Lynn hadn’t really considered, you know. Clothes shopping. With girls. She paused, glancing around. “Um, sure, I guess. I mean - not the warmest is workable,” she said, her hair flickering orange. “But preferably something that doesn’t melt. Real pain in the ass dealing with that. You just have to go wait somewhere bare-ass naked until it cools so you can - “ she paused. “Sorry, that was probably too much detail or whatever.” She looked around as best she could. Graphic sweatshirts weren’t really her speed, unless they looked sufficiently tough. But not, like, stuff with skulls on them. That was for emo kids and girls who spent more time riding their skateboards than their boyfriends. Lynn scratched at her head. “Uh, sure, denim works, I guess. As long as we’re not matching.”
Nat had responded to Keaton’s suggestion of a particular store with a shrug and a smile. Keaton, in this group at least, was the one who knew the most about clothes. Natalie hadn’t been big into fashion even as a teenager, due to not having many friends. She’d always gravitated towards jeans and cardigans as long as she could remember.
She couldn’t help smiling at this whole situation. They were together, shopping. That was the plan but actually being here and doing it was so...mundane that it was somehow surreal for this group.
“I’ll pass on the denim jacket,” she laughed, “I like to wear jeans, and I can’t go double-denim.”
“No that’s important,” Keaton said, frowning as she looked around the store. “You’ll probably be better off with something wool-based then. Woolen fire blankets are a thing, but I don’t think this store carries much wool. The stuff’s expensive.” Finishing her cursory sweep around the store, she shrugged. “We’ll stop at a more expensive brand after. Probably some place advertised for working women to emphasize practicality.”
Lynn’s half-acceptance of her suggestion of denim brought a grin to her face. “There’re lots of washes to choose from, and as long as you don’t pick light washes we probably won’t match.” She paused. “Though, denim’s cotton-based, and cotton’s not exactly fire-resistant. As for going double-denim, I’m going double right now,” she said, indicating her black jeans and denim jacket as she looked to Natalie. “If you keep the colors different, it’s not too much a problem, and matching denim can be a statement outfit.” Her tone was light, betraying her intentions. She’d meant the suggestion of denim as a teasing comment, and she hadn’t expected anything of it. If she were being honest, denim was pretty far from practical for any place not sunny year-round. On chilly days, she’d reach for a sweatshirt to layer under, not a thicker denim jacket.
“But anyway, we’re here already, so we might as well look around.” Her eyes paused on a dress and she smiled broadly, glancing between Lynn and the floral print. “How about trying on some dresses? We don’t have to buy anything, but we can take some cute photos in the changing rooms.”
Lynn was used to Denim saying things that sounded smarter than what Lynn could think of, but she had never expected Keaton would be so smart about stuff that was so dumb. This was just shopping, but she knew materials and brands and stuff. “Yeah,” Lynn said, knowingly. “Yeah, totally.” Lynn listened to the details of the different washes, and was privately glad that Spoons had passed on the denim, because all three of them coordinating their outfits was going to make them look like total morons. We’d be like the greaser X-men. Spoons was also smiling, which was somewhat dizzying in its own right. This all felt so normal. Most of her conversations with Keaton were done in private places over notepads that were burned immediately after, and most of her conversations with Spoons were in the process of trying to beat the shit out of a giant lizard.
The fire-resistant bit triggered Lynn’s memory of their stupid plan. She grimaced. It was so hard to put into words how much she hated that plan. She felt her blood boil before she rubbed at her face and sighed. There was no getting around it. She’d have to be small and cold again. For a while. Then never again. Gennedy’s face in the interrogation room swam back into her field of view for a moment, and for a split second Lynn thought of how easy it would be to burn this whole mall down, just to get his attention. It was always Gennedy. Gennedy was the walk after they’d found the corpse where Lynn was more sure of the fact she would die than she had been of anything, Gennedy was the cold concrete of juvy, where she was barely five foot and without an ounce of supernatural power to help her fight. Gennedy was that fucking collar.
Lynn’s fuming was interrupted by one of the few things so surreal that it could whip Lynn from livid anger to total confusion. No one had ever once offered to “take a cute photo of Lynn” or implied such a thing was possible. Who would she send it to? One answer came to mind and Lynn immediately forced it away, her stomach rolling with sudden embarrassment for something that hadn’t even happened. Besides, Lynn also didn’t know if her burner phone could even take pictures.
“I - dresses? Shouldn’t we keep looking at denim or whatever?” Lynn asked, most definitely hiding any of her nerves with a totally not-forced casual tone.
On the mention of dresses, Nat’s smile had vanished, and she was looking to the floor. “Yeah, I dunno about dresses. I don’t think I’d look good in a dress. I just want to find some nice things that cover my arms, and some new jeans….”
The sudden shift to hesitation was expected. Keaton was asking them to step out of their comfort zone, after all. Dresses were a big jump from jeans and hoodies, but it wasn’t like trying on a few dresses would hurt anyone. They had time—and money, considering the fact they might be leaving indefinitely after this—so they could stand to spend it. As for the discomfort, what was a shopping trip without a few silly outfits?
“Well, I’m not hearing a no,” she said, herding the reluctant pair towards a rack of dresses with a grin. “You looked great at Homecoming, Nat, and we can look for denim after. Now pick something or I’ll pick for you. No guarantees on cool or edgy vibes if I do.”
She stood back and watched them struggle for a few minutes before reinserting herself, gravitating towards Lynn first since it was clear she needed more help.
“Sizes are marked on the tag and on the hanger, and you’re definitely x-small,” she said, fetching a short white sundress from the rack and holding it up in front of Lynn. “Here, try this one,” she said, handing the hanger to Lynn. “It’s white so it’ll go with your hair no matter what color you’re feeling.” Plus, the flutter sleeves helped emphasize an hourglass figure by creating dimension where there might not be any, but Keaton left that part out of the explanation, opting for an encouraging smile instead. “Don’t worry so much about it. It’ll look great on you.”
Turning to Natalie, she found the taller girl looking through a rack, and she paused to watch. “How’re you with prints?” she asked after a second. “Have you ever thought about, say, floral?” She pulled out the dress in question, cocking a brow at Natalie. It was long-sleeved and would cover the majority of her scars. It was also short, but what good was a summer dress if it didn’t show some leg?
When the dresses were set, Keaton pulled a gingham piece from a nearby rack and shooed the other two towards the changing rooms in the back. As she changed, she realized that she’d rarely ever helped anyone pick out an outfit. Maybe it was because she grew up in Los Angeles, but most everyone she knew from back home was fashion-savvy. Instead, matching people to clothes reminded her of helping her dad coordinate event venues. Matching tablecloths to the curtains was easy when your power delivered aesthetic analyses in yes-or-no form, and in retrospect she realized that her power must’ve been checking against the decor magazines constantly littered around her dad’s car, which she tended to thumb through on drives to the venues. Sure she didn’t exactly have an aesthetic reference when she picked the dresses earlier, but she’d had a living reference—a present standard in the question, “Would they wear it?”
“You two done yet?” she asked, giving the sleeves of her dress one last adjustment as she stepped out of her changing room. “C’mon, there’s no one here but us, and if it looks bad it’s more my fault than yours.”
She glanced down at her dress, then looked at it in the mirror propped beside the changing rooms, frowning. “And someone tell me if I look like a tablecloth because my power’s telling me yes.”
Keaton handed Lynn a dress which she reacted to about as if Keaton had thrust a rabid coyote into her hands. “Uh,” she responded intelligently when Keaton listed why it would look good on her. Some part of her immediately jerked back against that reaction, trying to decipher what the hidden meaning was. Did she not look good now? Was it - why - x-small, yeah, but that was only - it wasn’t her fault.
Denim gave her a smile. A Lucy smile. Lynn sighed and looked the dress over a bit. While Keaton was thinking of her fashionista friends back home, Lynn was thinking pretty much the opposite. If literally anyone that I knew before this dumbass space station saw me in this, Lynn thought, feeling profoundly weak with the dress in her hands. This wasn’t - this was how, like, rich people dressed and stuff. She was just going to burn through it anyway - and even if she didn’t she’d look like a fucking anemic ghost in this thing. It’d be like wearing a circus tent. Was this a set-up? Was Keaton just trying to make her look bad? For a brief moment, some ugly jealous twisted a few dozen chains of thought together, and Lynn desperately wondered if Natalie had somehow put Keaton up to this, to make her look ugly to -
Lynn paused for another minute. She first became keenly aware she was standing there looking at the dress with her cheeks burning, from anger or embarrassment she wasn’t sure, as Denim had turned to Spoons. You’re being a little bitch if you don’t do this, Lynn told herself.
That did it. She walked over to the dressing room and locked the door. This, she believed, was perhaps the first time she’d entered a dressing room without the intention of stealing something. Lynn had noticed the attendants orbiting her as she’d come into the store. The disdain was mutual. You didn’t need Keaton’s powers to figure some things out.
Lynn turned away from the mirror to undress, not having any need or desire to see herself unclothed. She fumbled into the dress, feeling her cheeks burning even more (quite literally - a wisp or two of smoke curled up off them, and her hair, as flummoxed as the rest of her, flickered from red to yellow to pink, all the colors half-formed and half-hearted). She was able to zip up the back herself awkwardly and turned back around.
Keaton was calling but Lynn looked in the mirror first, almost not hearing the other girl. A side effect of Lynn’s power she’d never had occasion to see was that the faint convection the girl exuded made the dress ripple and sway just a touch, as if a breeze was tugging at the hem of just her clothes. Lynn stared at herself in the mirror. She felt pretty.
For a brief moment, just about every instinct Lynn had told her to tear the stupid thing off, throw her clothes back on and storm out the store - they could, they might laugh, and she -
But Denim had smiled, you know. Lynn took a deep breath, doing her very best not to ignite anything, because it felt like matchsticks were dancing under her skin, and fumbled with the latch for a solid four or five seconds before getting it undone to step out.
“Uh,” Lynn said, coherently. Her brain whirled. “Not a picnic,” Lynn said to Denim. “I mean, a tablecloth. You - fuck, I don’t go on picnics, you get it.”
Natalie was at least trying to shop for herself in the brief time that Keaton left her to her own devices. The keyword was trying. There was something….confused about the way she shopped. She would ignore clothes that might suit her to pick out things a teenager might wear, stare at them, then shake her head and put them back. This happened several times before Keaton stepped in after she’d helped Lynn.
Natalie looked at the dress Keaton had picked out. Her first thought was “This is really pretty, but it’s something a college student would wear.” before she corrected herself. She was eighteen now. The last time she had ever gone clothes shopping was when she was sixteen. That was the mindset she had subconsciously reverted to. It was her only frame of reference for how clothes shopping was done.
“This looks….Amazing. If you think it’ll suit me, I’ll try it, I guess. It shows a lot of leg, huh. I...no. You can’t really wear dark stockings with this...I’m putting this off. I’ll go try it on now.”
In the changing room, Nat found herself covering her body with her arms, and covering her arms with each other when she looked at her semi-naked reflection. This was why they’d come out today. This was what she needed to stop. This hatred of her scars. She’d let go of her, and was no longer afraid of herself, but she needed to let go of her loathing too. She sighed, and started to put on the dress.
It took a few attempts. She really didn’t want to risk tearing the dress.
She didn’t even look at herself with the dress on. She knew what she’d think. She wanted to see what Keaton and Lynn thought. What their first impression was. She stepped out, and though she’d seen the dress Keaton chose for Lynn, seeing her wear it was completely different. Lynn didn’t just look pretty. She must have always looked pretty behind all that grunge and yelling and abrasiveness. But wearing that dress, you could finally see it.
Keaton’s dress looked quite chic and trendy. Her power must have helped her there because that dress was a brave choice that Nat didn’t think would have suited many other people. Nat was beaming as the three convened. Her eyes were sparkling.
“You both look great! This was such a good idea!”
Despite the initial hesitation, which in Lynn’s case had continued until now, Keaton was all grins as she watched them step out of their changing rooms. Natalie looked every bit the chic young adult she could be, and Keaton loved how the florals drew attention away from what scars peeked through the hem and neckline. If there was one thing Natalie had always gotten right, it was her makeup, and it shone through now especially, her features sharp and her eyes vivid. While it was debatable whether she looked better now or at Homecoming, Keaton loved the young yet elegant air she gave off in the dress, the depth of her eyes making her maturity unmistakable.
If Keaton had done a good job with Natalie’s dress, though, she’d blown it out of the park with Lynn’s. The white dress shaved decades of stress off Lynn’s appearance, and the way it rippled imperceptibly made the girl look positively ethereal. The uncertain pinks and yellows of Lynn’s hair melded into pastels were the cherry on top, and Keaton realized that Lynn looked younger and more innocent than she’d ever seen her look. She looked her age—how she might’ve looked had circumstances been different—and the slightly-sunken socket was the only thing marring an otherwise perfect picture.
“You… you both look amazing,” she said as she looked at the two girls before her, a swell of protectiveness rising inside. Was this what it was like to have siblings? Being an only child made it difficult to imagine a life with sisters, but she felt she understood now more than ever why people liked to wish for a younger sister to take to the mall. She wanted nothing more than to be able to whisk Natalie and Lynn away from here, to be able to guarantee them the happy, peaceful life they both deserved.
In a moment of impulsiveness, she pulled the two girls into a hug, squeezing them and burying her face in Natalie’s shoulder. Her eyes were shut tight as she let the moment of unshakable sadness run its course, and then she let go of them, stepping back with a wavering smile she quickly corrected into a firm one. “I’m buying you two these dresses. And you’re both going to wear them. When we go shopping again, when this is all over.”
Her words came so readily that she herself could almost believe them, and she shoved her power down somewhere deep as she pulled out her phone. “We’re taking pictures, and that’s not a question,” she said, glancing at Natalie and Lynn before looking around for someone to flag down.
“Hi, would you be able to take a picture of us?” she asked, offering her phone to the closest person in the store with a grin. The girl she’d cornered looked surprised but agreed nonetheless, and Keaton herded Lynn and Natalie into a line in front of the dressing rooms, putting Lynn in the middle of her and Natalie.
“Take a bunch!” Keaton called, then looked at Lynn and Natalie, grinning. “Smile!”
Pictures went on for a good few minutes as Keaton pushed the other two into smiling, striking poses, and making silly faces. At the end of it, she thanked her cameraman victim profusely and emerged victorious with a good screen and a half of pictures, some presentable and most not. Keaton, though, was of the opinion that the pictures before and after the intended one were just as good if not better, and she passed her phone to Lynn and Natalie with a happy smile.
“I think they came out great,” she said, glancing between the two to gauge their reactions. “Any preferences on which one I should send to the group? Or just to Eli to let her know what she’s missing out on.”
If Lynn’s experiences thus far on the shopping trip could be compared to a roller coaster, stepping out of the dressing room was like dangling from the rollercoaster by her feet with a blindfold on, so dizzy she wasn’t sure if she was still moving or if they’d stopped half an hour ago.
They were both so pretty, Lynn thought, and for a moment it was the bad kind of pretty, the hospital bed kind, the Che kind, the tall kind, and Lynn felt stupid for coming and stupid for doing all of this - it wasn’t fair, they’d shot her eye out, she - she was supposed to be taller, she didn’t get to - she should be wearing something baggier, bigger/clothes/no clothes/naked/that time, at the restaurant/ four people - because of her power, she couldn’t grow as much, she couldn’t be -
And at the same time, there was a kind of warm feeling that, paradoxically, Lynn had not felt in a longer time than she could really remember. Christmas lights, Lynn thought, unprompted, looking up at Nat. For a minute the flash of - certainly not jealousy, why would she be jealous of Spoons? That made no sense - whatever it was, gave way to guilt, even though there was nothing to be guilty of because Lynn wasn’t feeling anything to be guilty of in the first place - and then just that fuzzy feeling. Lynn was not accustomed to fuzzy feelings (The closest Lynn had come to a fuzzy feeling was a pimp coat she had lifted from a department store one time, but it was closer to a 16th century king’s robes on her when she actually tried it on. This ranked, along with being shot in the head, as one of Lynn’s top disappointments in life) but this one was nice. It made the other ones go away.
Lynn looked up at Denim who looked great in her dress - but this time as Lynn thought of course there didn’t seem to be an undertone of bitterness to it. This was lost entirely on her - Lynn’s thoughts whirred in the back of her skull as all the rest focused on how the two girls look. “You guys look fine as hell,” Lynn said, smirking. “I can cat call if you want.” Lynn turned. Spoons was smiling. Like, really smiling. That doesn’t happen often, Lynn thought rubbing at her blind spot and grinning. Denim looked like she was giving the bride away at a wedding or something, but before Lynn could joke about it she had grabbed the two of them in a bear hug.Lucy, Lynn had time to think briefly, all her muscles tensed, but this was kinda like that fuzzy feeling, and Lynn felt herself starting to hug back a bit. Just so I can take Spoons with me if she sneezes and snaps my spine again or something.
They pulled away and Lynn was busy staring intently at her feet, missing Keaton’s resolve flicker. She was thinking of hospital beds. But that was bad. Was it? Was this? Before Lynn had time to freeze or say something rash to break the space, Denim had corralled her into taking pictures.
“I normally just do mugshots,” Lynn muttered under her breath, which was the most restraint she could offer about Cara probably having pics of them in the dressing rooms, which she felt was perhaps untoward in the moment. Maybe the clerk is part of the Toaster Liberation Front or something too.
Maybe half of the pictures captured Lynn glancing somewhat nervously at Nat and Keaton as if to see what faces they were making, to grasp the upper limit of herself could be lain bare to this clearly flummoxed part-time department store employee, and to make sure she stayed well within that dividing line.
But silly faces were made.
Lynn pulled away, giggling, even if the coldwater-roller-coaster-dangling came surging back when Keaton mentioned sending pics to the group, because the group included - well, it -
“Not to Leotard, he’ll probably ask to see our feet or something,” Lynn said, rubbing at her bandage. It was itching like a free clinic for poison ivy. Her nose had even been itching a bit too, right up top at the bridge. She, exactly as you’re not supposed to, pushed against the bandage to try to scratch inside the socket, where it was itching the worst, and received a sharp stab of pain for her efforts. “Ow, fuck,” she murmured under her breath, turning away for a split second. She blinked her remaining eye, trying to wipe the quick flash of color and shapes you got when you pressed against your eye, but it was only on the other si -
Lynn stared for a moment, the rest of the department store lost to her. Oh.
“Just Denzel and Amelia, actually,” Lynn said, feeling very much not like she - just - strange. Just strange was all. Not bad. Maybe strange was okay. “Do…” Lynn turned back around, the itching still going on, but hardly bothering her at all. “Do we have to change back, or, uh…?” Lynn paused. She realized that, far from her normal mental log of debts owed, Lynn had not even balked at the idea of somebody buying her something. She didn’t feel like she owed Denim anything, which was not how this was supposed to work. None of this was how it was supposed to work. “Thanks, Keaton,” Lynn said. “You too, Nat.”
Lynn looked away for a moment. For a brief, delirious moment, she wondered what was keeping her from just wearing this until they went to the Spire, which she hadn’t even remembered was real since they came in. How did you get more occupied doing this? That was dumb, though - something, still, about wearing the dress out of here felt a little dumb, as if in here she could - it was just a joke or a thing they did, but outside it was her, and she was going to - she didn’t want that to be the last thing she wore, you know, plus the sewers.
Lynn scowled. Shit. Literally. She turned back to Denim, reluctant to kill the mood. She’d need clothes for the sewers. With the collar, they’d be - no, just her. She’d be cold.
For the first time in her life, Lynn sighed and asked, “Uh, before we head out, what are you supposed to wear when it’s cold?”
Natalie was pulled into the hug, and was stunned so much that Lynn hugged back before she did. She hugged back tight, but not too tight. She thought she could call them friends because they talked but no. This was friendship. She held back on crying, though that was easier said than done.
“Thank you,” Nat responded earnestly to Keaton’s offer to buy her and Lynn’s dress. Nat certainly appreciated it, as she didn’t have a whole lot of money on account of never having worked a job during her time here. At least she’d been going to the school. Then it dawned on her that very soon she would have no use for the currency they used here, and all thoughts of money no longer seemed to matter. All it was useful for now was food and any more supplies they’d need.
Now they were doing pictures. Nat’s smile returned in full force. She smiled in most of them, and was the last of the three to start doing silly faces, feeling quite self-conscious, before eventually giving in and joining them. By the end of it, she was giggling, but stopped when she heard Lynn giggling. This just made her laugh harder. Lynn giggling. What was going on?
She stopped to get her breath back, as Keaton asked them who they should send the pics to. “I agree with Lynn. Not to Nick. I don’t know him very well. Any of the rest. Especially Eli and Amelia. Archie….Hmm. Okay, Archie too.”
Lynn thanked her, and Nat nodded and smiled back. “Thanks for coming here. I’m glad we’re friends,” she replied, before looking around after hearing her question. “I usually wear cardigans, but I’m not sure they’re your thing. But we have some time to shop for ourselves. I want to get a vest or two.”
“Absolutely,” Keaton said when they thanked her, though Lynn’s question about whether she could keep the dress on gave her pause. She’d never thought about doing that, but apparently it was possible. “And I don’t see why you can’t keep the dress on. Just pull the tag out and I’ll ask them to scan it at the counter.”
At their comments about Nic, she snorted lightly but nodded. “Nic’s not that bad, really, but that’s fair.” Even she didn’t know him that well, mostly because planning didn’t leave her in a great mood in the first place, and given his power, she wouldn’t be totally surprised if he were watching right now. Her power, however, wasn’t giving her anything, which she put down to not having enough information to guess, so she shelved the thought for later.
After their cameraman rang them up, looking much more comfortable on the other side of the counter, they were off to get the clothes Lynn and Natalie had mentioned. For Natalie they stopped by a skate shop, which sold leather and puffer vests that were geared more towards street fashion than mom fashion, and for Lynn they stopped by the chic, upscale womenswear brand Keaton had in mind since earlier, where they picked up a woolen overcoat after Keaton again recited some benefits of wool that included but were not limited to it being an excellent insulator for both fire and cold alike.
As they waited in line to pay for the coat, Keaton pulled up a new group chat on her phone, writing a message and attaching a picture with a grin. FOMO real yet? the text asked above a picture of Keaton puckering a kiss at Natalie, who turned her cheek with a coy expression as Lynn looked at them with a mixture of confusion and amusement that may or may not have been real.
“Sent it to you two too,” Keaton said, showing the text off on her phone with a grin. “I think this represents us pretty well, if I do say so myself.”
Brandon Unicorn
The figure’s words hit a deeper part of Brandon—one that wanted to appease his family and live up to his name. Being assumed dead was much better than being assumed a coward, and he could still correct that misconception. He could seek out his father and explain his circumstances, prove that misfortune had befallen him.
The more sensible part of him, though, knew that wouldn’t be an option if he wanted to find the people who’d done this to him. If he were to identify himself now, he’d stain his family name. A Unicorn being killed and reanimated? It was unthinkable, and his family would be better off thinking he ran away. Plus, identifying himself would put a target on his back. A Unicorn being reanimated was bad enough, but a Unicorn who wanted to go on living despite being reanimated? He may as well declare himself a necromancer at that point.
The figure waved their hand, and Brandon’s vision shook. As he was trying to comprehend what was affecting his vision, he was confused to find that his body was moving by itself, and he realized with surprise that the figure must have joined him in his body. His hands moved and his lips whispered words unfamiliar to him, and he was horrified to see the ground shifting under his feet as corpses came alive, sockets and joints wisping unholy green. Some had weapons, some had pieces of armor, and some had parts of flesh that sloughed off as they rose, falling to the ground like unnecessary decorations cast aside in favor of hard, white-cast ivory.
As his stomach churned, the voice in his head spoke again, stating what was already apparent. He wasn’t just some reanimated corpse, he was a necromancer. Full and proper, and quite a strong one too, if being able to raise a throng of corpses meant anything. The sight of all the bodies he’d pulled from the grave drew forth a wave of shame and disgust, but the voice in his head was right. Brunnerstadt’s followers would regret doing what they had to him. He’d see to that much.
A shade of uncertainty in the voice in Brandon’s head took him by surprise, and he paused, realizing that he’d regained autonomy over his body. Clenching and unclenching his gloved hands, he listened to the voice, heartbeat quickening when the voice revealed their weakness. Taking off the helmet, he could do it–free himself right now of the responsibility the voice was trying to have him take up, run home and try to explain his circumstance and position. His chances of avenging himself were as low as his chances of being able to rejoin his family, and it was clear which one would be easier.
Breathing in, then out, he approached a skeletal horse, reaching to touch the creature’s skull, which shone white below the smudges of dirt covering it. On its back was what remained of a saddle, and there was no sign of a bridle or reins as it pawed the ground with one hoof, head bobbing as it nudged its skull into his hand. It lacked mane and tail hairs as much as it lacked skin and eyes, but Brandon could imagine the spirit it might have had at one point in time.
As he stared at it, wondering how best to go about mounting it, it moved, kneeling before him. A look around had him realize that none of the skeletons had moved from where they’d risen, not even to look at him, and at this thought, a horde of skulls turned to look at him, the grinding of bone on bone sending chills down his spine.
He stared at the undead around him for another second, struggling to come to terms with what’d happened thus far. Then, swallowing, he turned back to the horse, his mouth drier than what must’ve been comfortable if his body had still been alive.
“I won’t take off the helmet, but in return you’ll continue helping me.” He grasped the skeletal horse's shoulder blade, finding a foothold on the skeleton’s leg that allowed him to step onto one stirrup and swing his leg over and into the other. The horse rose as soon as he felt comfortable enough for it to do so, raising him so he could look over the army around him. “Guide me and answer my questions, and I’ll heed your words.”
His words came firmer than he felt, and his hand on the spine peeking out over the pommel of the saddle trembled still, however detached to it he felt. The only troops he’d ever led were the patrols of men he’d been sent out with, but here he was with an army, emulating the confidence he saw in his father and brothers.
“We set out,” he said, his voice raised enough to carry through the empty plains around him, and though he felt like he was talking to nothing, the army heeded his words, starting forwards into the night. The moon and stars gave him direction in the desolation, and if the voice was correct, he was likely to the west of the Unicorn border. The way to go, then, was west still. They’d head towards the rocky foothills there, where an orc tribe was said to have set up camp, and he’d grow his army like the fel-wielding Asha-worshipers he’d only heard stories of until now, wield their powers and join their ranks like he already had.
“Can you hear my thoughts?” Brandon asked after another moment of silence on the road, his army slow but steady by his side. “And what should I call you?”
Thinking about the voice as just a voice was inaccurate, but at present that was precisely what the figure had become—merely a voice in his head, or helmet, rather. He could free himself of it if he should tire of it, and free himself of allowing it to read his thoughts as well, if it could. But that was a bluff, just as his words before had been, and he figured the voice knew as much. He needed all the help he could get right now. He could direct his army with a thought, but he had no idea how to maintain or increase it, or even wield it, for that matter. Would they fight as soon as he thought it, just like they’d start and stop when he did? He’d find out soon enough, he figured, and he swallowed again, uncomfortably aware of the hollow weight in his stomach.
The sight of a smoke trail in the sky, lit up by the moon and clear against the cloudless sky, showed him where to go, and his army changed trajectory for it easily and almost imperceptibly. Almost, because he was aware they had, both because he’d willed it to happen and because he could see where they were headed now. He’d been raised on stories about Unicorns triumphing over demons, orcs, and sorcerors, and he retained a healthy fear of all of them, but he’d always feared necromancers more. Now, though, orcs seemed such a trivial fear. In comparison to the half-decayed bodies around him, goblins and centaurs didn’t seem so bad. Maybe he’d still tremble before a wyvern or cyclopes when he saw one, and maybe the shock was still affecting his thoughts, but he felt like nothing could faze him anymore. He was dead and dying, his breaths as false as his life, and if he could go down doing a little more good than bad, maybe it’d have been worth it accepting his fate as the doomed Unicorn.
With the immediate danger having passed, Karina and the rest of the group had found some strange new allies. The "Kharu-Natjer" and his slaves and Malkev. Between both, the one who called himself "Kharu-Natjer" was the most mysterious one. Not much was known about him. The only thing Karina knew, for now, was that he seemed to be against the cult as well and since "The enemy of my enemy is my friend", he would gain more by aiding them than betraying them. Not that it meant that Karina would trust him and his slaves, but at least she would have her rapier constantly pointed at him. Malkev on the other hand was someone they had a bit more information about and seemed to be more 'open' and not as secretive as the other one. According to his own words, Malkev was the head of the Watch, or at least of what remained of it after what the cultists did to the town. That said, despite the situation the Watch found itself, it still could move around the town drawing little to no suspicion as it was seen favourably by the population. With both the goal of knowing more about the situation around the town and the Watch itself, Karina tried volunteered herself to aid Malkev and his men to patrol some areas of the city. Disguising herself as a member of the watch would make it way less dangerous to walk around and it would draw little suspicion. It would also be a good way to earn Malkev's trust enough for him to tell what he knew about the city, the cult and any information he could give her.
After disguising herself with the Watch's uniform and getting a large backpack, which was used to carry food and other supplies that would be distributed around some communities in order to gather support and offer some well needed relief and hope to those that weren't pawns for the cult yet.
Ferris had a similar mentality when it came to the group’s new allies. While he by no means trusted Malkev and the Kharu-Natjer, he knew it’d be foolish not to at least give them a chance, considering the power they seemed to wield and what they’d already done for the group. Given that the group was taking a few days to rest, though, Ferris was taking up the opportunity to get to know their new allies, and only partially because he couldn’t manage to sit around for more than a few seconds. Committing to the group meant committing to saving the town in some way or another, but it also meant committing to staying in one place for as long as was necessary. The last time he’d stopped—fully stopped—in a city was more than a while ago, but that was the life of a mercenary, and in a way he was just currently on a long, relatively stagnant job.
Though he wasn’t one for uniforms, the guard in the patrol he’d volunteered to join had “strongly encouraged” wearing it, so Ferris had done so, even going so far as to leave his hat and scarf in his room. If he was going to don a disguise, he could at least make sure it was a good one.
Upon arriving at the gates where the patrol was to meet, Ferris was surprised to see Karina already present. While he wasn’t one to arrive late, he’d been urged out early today due to a general restlessness from being cooped up underground for so long, and he’d been impatiently counting down the hours until the patrol since he woke up. What surprised him, though, was that it seemed Karina had the same idea about picking up odd jobs around the place to learn more about Malkev and the Khar. Patrolling the town would give them an understanding of what they were dealing with: Who were their daily enemies, and how did their territory look? The patrol routes would lend an understanding of which parts of town were the busiest or most favored, and the reaction of the townsfolk would show how the guard, and by extension, Malkev, was favored around town. Plus there was an opportunity to talk with the guards, if they were the type to talk during patrols. Either way, patrolling was definitely one of the more efficient ways to gain information around here, and Ferris had no doubt that was why Karina chose to join the patrol as well.
He gave her a nod as he approached. “How are your injuries healing up?” he asked. As more members of the patrol arrived, Ferris noted that his face felt a bit bare without his scarf, but it was nothing new. His true enemies were too far away, too confident in his nothingness to care.
Despite her being wearing the Watch’s uniform, Karina still stuck out like a sore thumb among the other member who were also going to patrol around the area. Her delicate and small figure was far from what one would think it was ideal for that type of job. While some of the other members were looking at her with a clear thought of ‘what is this girl doing here’ in mind, few of them knew exactly what she was capable of.
”Oh Ferris. Didn’t expect to see anyone here.” Karina said, turning to Ferris as he called out to her.
“Oh thank you but I’m fine. Other than a few bruises and scratches I’m perfectly fine.” she said with a smile as she thanked Ferris for worrying about her.
”Despite my position in the army, I’m also a woman and I do take care of my appearance. Scars would ruin my skin.” Karina said with a discreet chuckle.
”Besides, I do have a talent for not getting hurt. Having a small body also have its advantages, doesn’t it? she said with a discreet smile as she finished checking her equipment before going patrolling.
”So… I assume you’re here for the same reason I am, right? Karina asked, her expression and tone suddenly changing to a serious one.
”Along with that ‘Kharu-Natjer’ person, the Watch is the only other ally we can count on while inside the city. I don’t think it will be easy to earn the former’s trust enough so he tells us more about him so instead I’m helping the Watch in their patrols. We need to know more about them if we’re going to be allies after all.” Karina finished. Despite her words though, Ferris would notice that there was a small hint of caution in her voice, almost as if she didn’t blindly trust neither the Watch nor the Kharu before knowing more about them.
”Are you coming along?” Karina asked, looking to Ferris.
Ferris received Karina’s comment about being a woman and taking care of her appearance with a delayed nod, not quite sure how to take that. Most of the women he was used to were either full warriors who’d given up counting their scars or the type to stay off the battlefield entirely. That scars would ruin skin was obvious, and Karina quoted her dexterity with such ease that Ferris would’ve believed it even if he hadn’t seen it firsthand. Her clear skin, then, was a testament to her skill. So far, the group the Being had gathered never ceased to impress.
“I’m here to learn more about the Watch. Anything else is a bonus,” he said when she asked about why he’d chosen to join the patrol. Encouraging Malkev to trust him hadn’t crossed his mind. Perhaps it was because of Malkev’s initial reaction to him, or perhaps he had an innate distrust of people with as much power as the Kharu, but he didn’t expect Malkev or the Kharu to ever trust the group, at least not fully. At best, the group was working toward the same goals as the Watch and the Kharu. At worst, well, that’s what Ferris was here to find out and safeguard against.
“Yes. Let’s go,” he said, adjusting his backpack as he followed the guards leading the patrol out the gate.
The sky outside was changing from the Distortion’s purple night sky to a pitch black signalling the coming of dawn, A green hue lit the north, where the sun was beginning to rise. Despite the darkened sky, the lighting on the ground appeared quite normal for dawn. It made for quite a bizarre contrast.
While the town seemed to be slowly waking, the patrol was on full alert as they filed down the designated path. Given that he didn’t know the patrol route, Ferris kept pace in the latter third of the group, allowing the guards in front of him to lead the way. Instead, he kept his attention split between the guards and the townsfolk they passed, listening for conversation from either. Talking on patrols wasn’t unheard of, but different groups had different rules. Malkev didn’t strike him as the type to let his soldiers slack, but then again commanders had many faces.
Karina stood mostly in the middle of the group, just in front of Ferris. Just like him, she had her eyes and ears on full alert to anything interesting she might hear from both the others who were patrolling with them or the townsfolk as well. Since the watch had more of a reputation around the town, the locals might open themselves in their presence much more than they would around a group of outsiders.
"I don't know what to think of that Kharu person yet, but Malkev... He can be a valuable ally for us. Earning his trust and knowing more about the Watch itself would certainly benefit us." Karina said in a low tone as she slowed her pace a bit to get near Ferris.
"At least until the military of touch sends someone to aid us... We're stuck with the hand we're given." Karina said with a rather annoyed tone in her voice.
Malkev had started the march at the center of the group, walking beside a draped cart presumably filled with cargo. As they progressed, he made a point to stop by each member of The Watch and thank them for their assistance in this venture. At length he made his way to Karina and Ferris. He eyed Ferris with a frown before settling his gaze on Karina.
“Thank you for volunteering to assist us today. Senses knows we needed the help.” The man said as he fell in line beside Karina. “I don’t believe we’ve had the chance for a proper introduction... Or rather, I don’t believe you’ve had the chance.”
Before Ferris could reply though, Malkev, who was personally thanking each member of The Watch for their assistance walked towards them, to thank both of them for the help, just like he did to the other members. Unlike them though, Malkev did stay in line near Karina, mentioning that they weren't properly introduced.
"Indeed, our meeting wasn't exactly calm, was it?" Karina said as she looked at Malkev.
"I'm Karina, pleased to meet you." she said, introducing herself with a nod. She didn't want to reveal her surname nor her position to him yet as she didn't know what Malkev would think of her if he knew who exactly she was.
“A pleasure.” Malkev said with his deep, rich voice. He gave the woman a minor bow of the head.
"The Watch is one of the few allies we can still trust to fight against the cult. If we want to survive, we should help ourselves." Karina finished, referring to the reason why she was helping The Watch.
“I just want them out of my home.” He replied. “But after that...” Malkev frowned. “The Nation of Touch’s army is coming… I don’t know what we’ll do...”
Ferris listened to the exchange with interest. From the sound of it, Malkev seemed to put the town first, even calling it his home. Suddenly it occurred to Ferris that the man could have a family in town, a wife and children he cared for and genuinely did not want to see hurt. If such were the case, trust could indeed be part of the equation because as much as they distrusted each other, Ferris could trust a man to protect his family.
He glanced at Karina. From what the Being had told him, she had ties to the Touch military. She was choosing not to share that for now, then, and Ferris respected that. Considering how much Malkev had disliked him for his magic, it wasn’t unreasonable to think Malkev would turn the same disdain on Karina if she revealed that she was affiliated with the Touch. A man would go to great lengths to protect his family, after all.
“One problem at a time works well,” Ferris noted. Keeping attention fixed on the cult was a good idea both because the cult was their biggest problem now and because it’d keep attention off the Touch and therefore Karina. Though, considering the Kharu and his penchant for secrecy, Ferris wouldn’t be surprised if Malkev already knew the truth about Karina. But that depended on how close he was to the Kharu, and giving away information was never a good idea in Ferris’ book.
Malkev paid the Crazed a contemptuous sidelong glance. “Is what I keep telling myself.” He said.
It seemed that Karina's decision to not tell Malkev about her ties to the military of touch was the right choice, judging by how he sounded about it. That said, there was not much choice regarding that matter. The cult already had turned the king into one of their puppets. In the state the town is right now, even if the cult disappeared, surrendering the city to the military of touch was the better option instead of keeping the current king or having no king at all.
"Indeed. Things are already complicated enough with just the cult... If that wasn't enough, there is the issue about how they transformed even the king in their puppet." Karina said, agreeing with Ferris, thankful that he also tried to change the subject instead of further talking about the military.
"There is still a lot we don't know about the cult. Their powers, what exactly they can do... Even how far their influence has spread outside of this city. Right now, they are a potential threat for the entire world if they continue to get stronger, not only to this city. We can't give them a chance to recover themselves when we strike them. They need to be eliminated." Karina said with a serious tone as she looked at Malkev.
"And that is what the military of touch would do. This city, as the root of the cult, couldn't be left to its own devices, lest they wanted the cult to continue growing." she thought to herself as she looked at the sky, now warped due to the distortion. No matter if Malkev would call her a traitor later, but he would be thankful for her and the Military of Touch's interference later on, when this is all over.
Malkev frowned. “Good luck with that then.” He said. “I’m going to have my hands full just getting things back in order here, once we are done.”
The tall man sighed. Clasping his hands behind him, he stared ahead as if in thought. “I don’t buy it.” He said at last. “King Y’lleant would never let this happen! They must have tricked him somehow or taken his poor son hostage!” Malkev nodded to himself. “Yes… there has to be some other explanation here. Both King Y’lleant and my cousin… Their attitudes changed far too quickly for it to actually be them calling the shots.”
From what Ferris knew, Y’lleant was the reigning Sight king. The rest of Malkev’s statement, however, was lost on him since he was not aware of what was happening with the Sight military, but Malkev’s mention of a cousin caught his attention.
“Your cousin?” he asked, meeting the man’s eyes stonily. Malkev had his thoughts of Ferris clear, and Ferris didn’t mind them. In all honesty, it was a normal and rather common prejudice, and Ferris was more tired of it than anything. One could distrust whatever they wanted. It was when and how they acted on that distrust that Ferris could and would take offense.
Malkev furrowed his brow as if confused. “Yes... my cousin… Lord O’Kal...” He said as if this were common knowledge. “Did neither of you know who I am? What The Watch is?”
Karina heard what Malkev said regarding the king. Even though she didn't know the king, Malkev did seem to know him very well and did mention how he was acting strangely. Considering the strange things she saw the cultists doing, especially those Sightless, it wasn't that far fetched to think that they could have, somehow controlled the king using their powers or something... But that didn't change what she and the military should do. The king was unfit to rule, incapable. The fact that he allowed all this to happen, being controlled or not, already said a lot about his capabilities as a king. Such organization like the Cult doesn't just appear out of nowhere and simply starts controlling the city...
"Wait... Lord O'Kal is your cousin?!" Karina asked, raising an eyebrow and completely interrupting her own thoughts the second she heard Malkev saying that, after Ferris asked about it, confirming what Malkev had just asked. Neither of them seemed to know exactly what The Watch was.
“Of course he’s my cousin.” He said looking a tad bemused. “My reputation in this town might be overshadowed by my older brother’s, but I still have one.” Malkev paused for a moment. “You two aren’t from around here, are you?”
Ferris glanced at Malkev, surprised at the man’s question. He’d assumed that the Kharu had told Malkev about the group already, or at least enough to keep him informed on another possible Crazed in town, but apparently not. From Malkev’s question, then, it seemed that he’d deduced that Ferris and Karina weren’t locals, and perhaps that they weren’t Sight people altogether. Since it was better safe and sorry, Ferris figured his default cover, which was mostly true, worked fine.
“I’m a mercenary. Recently came into town,” Ferris said, then glanced at Karina. Did she need a cover too? Given that they honestly didn’t know each other that well, she could easily claim to be a mercenary as well, especially given that sellswords tended to get hired in groups for bigger missions. In a way, the Being had done exactly that: He’d hired Ferris, and maybe the rest of the group, with promises rather than gold.
"No. Had a delivery to make around these parts. Stopped by the city to rest for a bit and ended up in this situation." Karina replied when Malkev asked if they were from around the city, using the same cover story she had used when she first arrived in the city.
"It is one of the reasons why I'm trying to make some allies... We'll be stuck here for a while... It would be better if I knew a few people that I could rely on if things suddenly get ugly." she finished.
“A mercenary... and a lady out on a delivery...” Malkev’s started with a distasteful tone only to soften his attitude after the pause. “You two are quite an odd pair… Though I suppose the same can be said of my alliance with the Kheru-Natjer and… that woman...”
Though Malkev’s thoughts on Ferris were clear, Ferris had never let anyone’s opinions come before his job or goals, and currently his job was to patrol and his goal was to get more information. If Malkev didn’t want to answer questions, he need only walk away.
“Why have you allied with them then?” Ferris asked, keeping his tone even but firm.
Malkev pursed his lips. His brow furrowed. “Because…” He said. “I have no other choice.”
For a while, Malkev said nothing. He just stared straight ahead. His frustration clear on his face.
“One of Svephraey’s goons came to us days before the day of madness. Warning us of the danger to come... The man had snuck into my brother’s home. Waited in his room in the shadows. Waited to speak to him alone… It’s fair to say, after an encounter like that, we didn’t listen.
Another pause. “He had been like the goons from the day before. The ones who sacrificed themselves to save you… I don’t like that woman… She makes my skin crawl. The thugs in this town appear to respect her… but those minions of her… What kind of thugs, employed by a woman like her, will risk their own lives for strangers like you? Its-”
Malkev shook his head. “But no, I’m getting off track...” Malkev gave the two a serious look. “We initially had been trying to convince my cousin to refuse the cultists entry, but after that first day, we’ve been refused entrance into his manor and he no longer responded to our inquiries. So… my brother came up with a plan. He made contact with someone who could send in help to remove the cult from the city. He refused to tell me who, but… Well I assume that it was someone within the King’s army… We were supposed to open the gates for them and…”
Malkev sighed. “None of that matters now.” Malkev said quietly. “My older brother died the day everyone went mad. Died from my own two hands… I killed him in a fit of madness.”
The tall man frowned. “Whatever his plan had been, it’s of no use to us now… With my brother gone, I took his place as the overseer of The Watch… Many of our members died that day… In any case, Svephraey’s goon came back for another visit the day after the madness. The same day you and your friends found the Kheru-Natjer… With no other means of fighting back… I listened that time.”
Karina stood silent as Malkev mentioned the Kheru-Natjer and the mysterious woman. They were an unknown variable that certainly worried Karina. She knew almost nothing about them and the extent and reason for their allegiance to the group was... hazy at best. Ferris also did seem to be searching for more information regarding them, including why Malkev, who didn't seem the type to ally himself with such people did so.
Malkev's reasoning was... plausible. In the situation he and The Watch was in, choice was one of the things they didn't have. Malkev also didn't like her that much. Her minions were indeed... strange. Karina had already noticed that before but hearing Malkev saying it only confirmed that. No one, no matter how loyal, would easily die for strangers like that. Throwing themselves into danger without much care for their own lives... What was even more surprising though was what Malkev said after that. Apparently, one of Svephraey's goons tried to warn him and his brother about the cult and everything that was about to happen, days before everything started. Svephraey and the Kheru knew much more than they were telling them...
"I share your views regarding Svephraey and the Kheru-Natjer... They know more than what they're telling us. We're not in a position to choose our allies, but I would be a bit cautious with them." Karina said after hearing Malkev.
"Regarding the plan you had of asking assistance to someone outside the city... It may not be that useless. I was able to contact someone outside the town. I only had time to send a single word with the aid of one of the members of our group before the cultists found our location but if he understood that word, help will surely come for me." Karina finished, carefully watching Malkev's reaction as she said that to him.
Malkev arched an eyebrow at her words. “Help? From who?”
"Help." Karina replied to Malkev's question with a firm tone.
"You- We aren't exactly in a position to choose who will help us." she said, still looking to Malkev with a fierce expression.
"The cult. It needs to be dealt with. Otherwise... Well... You saw what they did with this town and it's people." she completed, looking to Malkev and waiting for a reply.
Malkev frowned at her choice of words. “Why is it that I feel like everyone is pressing my back against a wall...” He muttered.
The man looked to Ferris and then Karina. With a nod he moved on to the front of the group. His head lowered as if deep in thought.
Ferris watched Malkev leave with a curious expression, then turned to Karina. “Why didn’t you tell him about your background?” There were numerous reasons why, and Ferris knew that, but he wanted to hear hers. Maybe it was privacy, or maybe it was so she could keep an ace up her sleeve. Or, maybe, there was a reason Ferris wasn’t aware of yet.
“The Being told me,” he said after a pause, figuring he should clarify where he was getting his information from. He was asking her something that could be personal, so he’d keep himself as transparent as possible. To show that he had no bad intentions, and that he was willing to answer additional questions, if she had any.
The moment Karina heard Ferris talking about her background, she looked at him, raising her eyebrow. How did he know about it? It wasn't like anyone other than Chres knew it. Did he told Ferris about it? Regarding his question, it would be easier to ask why would she tell someone of her background than otherwise. Keeping her identity hidden was the very definition of being undercover. After a moment, Ferris spoke again, interrupting her thoughts as he mentioned 'the being', the same thing that appeared to her and the others back when the city wasn't like... this.
"The being... It's really good it is just giving away my information to others." Karina said with an unsatisfied tone.
"I assume you know who I am already. I also assume that you know that the Nation of Touch and the Nation of Sight are currently on war... right? My reason to come here is because I am... or was... undercover. I had a sneaking suspicion that the cult was more than just a small religious group and that it could prove to be a problem... Unfortunately... I was right." Karina said in a grim tone.
So she’d been sent ahead as a spy. That was quite a piece of information the Being had left out of his explanation for Ferris, but it hadn’t done any harm. He wasn't the type to go spreading information, of course, but it was still good that he knew why he shouldn’t, if only for future reference.
“The cult is a problem for both sides, but only the Sight are fighting it right now,” Ferris said. “The Touch could use that to their advantage—though joining forces to defeat the cult first would be the more honorable move. I assume that’s what you want too?”
Ferris already knew too much about her thanks to that damn being, but when he began prodding what were her goals and asking more questions, Karina stopped and looked at him with a look of suspicion.
"You are asking too much, Ferris..." Karina said, looking at him with a serious stare.
"The Cult needs to be stopped and eliminated, no matter how. What I am trying to do is changing the priorities of the Military of Touch. Temporarily, at least." Karina replied. Her tone and expression as she said that were clear, almost a warning advising Ferris against keeping asking too much about her and things he shouldn't know about the military.
At Karina’s assertion, Ferris paused. “Right,” he said. “Apologies.” He’d set out to build rapport, not break it, though he supposed he had failed to estimate how much Karina’s assignment meant to her. The machinations of one person were essentially those of a nation, for now, and he remained an outside entity.
Looking around, he spotted a few guards conversing with each other, though joining their conversations didn’t seem wise with Malkev at the head of the patrol. The guards need only glance forward to remember whether they should hold their tongue.
"I hope you understand why I'm being cautious. As you know, I'm still a high ranking officer in the Military of Touch. I shouldn't be careless regarding what I say since most things I know are important information with critical value." Karina said after Ferris replied.
"When you are in a position such as mine, the things you say and the things you know can cause deaths or save lives. I do consider you allies, but certain things go beyond me... You understand?" she asked, trying to explain to Ferris why she said what she said. She didn't want him to think she simply didn't want to tell things to him and was doing it out of bad will.
"Let's go, we should at least try to pay some attention on the patrol." Karina said to Ferris as they continued walking.
Ferris nodded. “Of course.” He didn’t tend to rub shoulders with people in high places, but he understood the concepts. Secrecy over honesty since information trumped all. He didn’t fault her for not wanting to share, nor did he mind the words she’d chosen. As one who respected honesty, he didn’t mind when people didn’t mince words, and he’d been told off in worse ways.
“I doubt we’re the only patrol out,” he said as they walked. “Malkev is here too. They must have stepped up security.”
The group walked for some time longer, until finally reaching the market square. There, they halted their carts in an empty spot some distance away from where the usual food merchants were now soliciting people to the cult.
“Never have I known a merchant unwilling to accept money!” One of the civilians shouted. “Just what are they paying you people?”
“Does it matter?” One of the merchants said. “The Clan is handing out our merchandise for free. Never have I known a peasant unwilling to eat for free.”
“Peasant!?” Another man exclaimed angrily. “At least we aren’t greedy little pigs!”
“Greedy?” A second merchant spat. “Allowing our merchandise to be handed out for free is greedy now, is it?”
“It isn’t free when we are being forced to sit through a sermon just have a bite to eat!” The first civilian shouted back. “And don’t act like you are all saints. Just how much are they paying you people anyway?!”
The crowd there was growing increasingly angry. One person tried to shove past the other in order to get to a merchant. However, he was quickly intercepted by one of the many Cults thugs at the ready.
“Step back!” The Cultists shouted. “We do not wish to hurt any of you. These men, though greedy they may be, are simply following the guidelines we have provided for them. We are simply trying to bring order back from the chaos that started three days prior.”
“Nobody went mad until the Distortion arrived. How is that bringing order?” A woman shouted.
“The Distortion simply gifts knowledge, not chaos. We can teach you to use this knowledge. To wield it. We have food, supplies, whatever you need to to keep your families from starving. Lord O’Kal’s absence has dug you poor people into a hole. We simply wish to give you the means to climb your way out. Yes our food comes at the price of a sermon, but at the end of the day it’s still-”
Throughout all of this, Malkev and his men had set to work. The carts they brought had been built in such a way to convert into what appeared to be a stall. Its contents, however, had remained covered throughout all of this. As the guards busied about their work, it was then that Malkev began speaking...
“Ladies! Gentlemen! I… I am sorry.” Malkev began shouting. Oddly his voice seemed magnified. Magic perhaps?
A few of the townsfolk had turned away to look, but most were still busy arguing with the merchants and cultist.
“The Cultists are right!” Malkev continued. “Lord O’Kal has fail us! The town guard, who man the walls, have failed us. And I, Malkev, cousin to Lord O’Kal have also failed you. I failed to act. I failed to prevent this… I even failed my own brother.”
By this time much more of the crowd had turned to listened. Even the preaching cultist’s words had trailed off.
Malkev stared at the ground as if in pain. The death of his brother was still fresh. Slowly, the man raised his head. He looked to the crowd with resolve. “I refuse to fail you any longer.”
At that moment, the guards whipped off the cover to the stalls. Underneath lay all manner food and supplies.
“The cultists offer you food for free. Well, so do I. But the food I have here comes not at the cost of your time. It comes from my own good graces.”
The crowd began to mutter. Some even began to draw towards Malkev. The cultist began whispering amongst themselves. The one who had been preaching gave Malkev a dark stare.
“Unfortunately, I do not have enough food for all, but I will do my best to distribute the food fairly.”
One of the cultist thugs started moving towards Malkev, but was stopped by the cultist who had been preaching.
“Now then,” Malkev said. “Who’s first?”
The distorted green sun had risen high above by the time they finished distributing the food. Surprisingly the cultists had left Malkev alone. In fact, they had dispersed shortly after Malkev stole their crowd.
“I cannot do this again.” Malkev said after they had finished packing up and had begun to leave. “At least not like this. They will have their eye on me now.”
Arriving at the market square, Karina saw the entire scene unfolding, the cultists trying to do their brainwashing by using food to attract civilians. Fortunately, they didn't seem to like the preaching that much and some of them weren't as stupid as the others, knowing that the distortion and the cult were making people go mad. Karina really wanted to stop the cultist preachers and deal with that but seeing on how she was currently a part of Malkev's patrol and wasn't really the one responsible for such patrol, she held herself and simply waited for Malkev's orders.
Fortunately, when Malkev started speaking, most civilians turned their attention to him instead and showed themselves more than willing to accept his help other than being brainwashed by the cultists just for some food. As Malkev began distributing food, Karina watched with the corner of her eye as one of the cultist thugs began walking towards Malkev before being stopped by the preacher. Sending both of them a cold, threatening stare, Karina kept looking at them, watching their every move almost as a way to warn them that she was already doing too much simply tolerating their presence.
When it was all finished, with the green, distorted sun beginning to rise above the horizon, Malkev mentioned on how he couldn't do that and how the cult would have their eyes on him after today.
"Hopefully, you won't need to worry for too much longer, Malkev." Karina said. It wasn't hard for him to realize that what she felt for the cult and the cultists was complete and utter disgust and hate. For her, they were a threat and had to be eliminated at all costs.
“I would hope otherwise.” Malkev said. “For if I’m not there to worry about my people, then who will?”
"You did a good job, Malkev. But one person alone can't hope to deal with the cult. Not as they are right now. They became too strong for a local force to deal with." Karina continued with a firm voice.
"I will need your cooperation when the time comes. Remember that stopping the cult is more important than everything right now. If they get stronger... Then I hope no one will be able to stop them... Or there will be no one left to oppose them after being brainwashed." She completed with a grim tone.
Malkev said nothing for a time. He looked to the ground as if troubled. “My place is with my people. I don’t have the luxury to leave them for war. Heck, I already have one war coming straight to my doorstep. The Watch was made to be there for our people. I can’t make any promises until all invaders have been dealt with. Once the cult is gone, and once I’ve found a way to turn back our other invaders… Maybe then we can talk.”
Malkev looked to Ferris. “And what of you, Crazed?” He said, while emphasizing the word ‘Crazed’. “What is your angle in all of this?”
Though he’d spent the last few minutes listening in, Ferris hadn’t planned on speaking, if only because he figured it’d irritate Malkev more. There also wasn’t much he could add since he had limited understanding of both Malkev and Karina’s situations, but now that Malkev had addressed him directly, he supposed he’d share his thoughts.
“Same as her. I’m here to stop the cult,” Ferris said, and he wasn’t lying. His current goals aligned perfectly with theirs, and they’d be the same if worded differently. As for his angle, that came after the cult was brought down, and though it was equally important to him, he hadn’t suddenly lost his patience. There was no reason he had to explain any of that, though, much less to Malkev. If there was someone he wasn’t expecting to win out of this, it was Malkev and his deep-seated distaste for regulated magic users.
Malkev eyed Ferris. ”Sounds very un-mercenary like.” He said, skeptically.
“There are things more important than gold,” Ferris replied evenly. Whatever Malkev concluded of that, Ferris didn’t mind.
Karina heard Malkev's words quietly, looking at him with a serious stare. It was obvious to her who were the 'invaders' he was talking about but it wasn't time for her to reveal her identity yet. Despite that, even if Malkev wanted, it was highly unlikely he would be able to resist the Military of Touch all by himself and it was equally unlikely he would cooperate or ask for the help of the cult.
"Sooner or later, Malkev, you will have to make a choice. I hope that when the time comes, you will make the correct one. You, better than anyone else should know that aiding or asking for the cult's help isn't an option." Karina replied.
After that, Malkev turned to Ferris, asking what was his thought in all of that. If it wasn't clear that Malkev and Ferris didn't like each other that much, the fact that Malkev referred to him as 'crazed' was another indication of that. Ferris' reply was short but simple. He saw the need to stop the cult, just as Karina did.
"Mercenary or not, he sees the potential danger that the cult poses to the entire world. He is making the correct choice." Karina said, agreeing with Ferris as he replied to Malkev's comment of his actions not being expected from a mercenary.
“With all due respect,” Malkev started, his tone beginning to turn to irritation. “you speak as though choices are black and white when in truth they tend to be more situational than that.”
“The Cult is dangerous. That much is certain. However you can’t just expect that to be enough to convince me to go on a war campaign with you. For one, how do I even know you are capable of winning such a war? You speak as though you have the means to fight these people and yet here you are stuck in this mess with me.”
“Two, I fail to see how going straight into another war will help my people. Look at the dead bodies piled up over there!” He said nodding toward a fly ridden alleyway covered with rotting corpses. “Dead from the day of madness. So many have already died just from that day alone and we still have yet to determine the damage it has done due to the chaos that’s followed. Factor in another war… well just imagine just how much worse things will get.”
“And three,” Malkev continued. He hesitated a moment, his hands balling up into fists. This last point seemed to have him troubled. The man looked ahead and took a deep breath to calm himself. “Even if I were to agree to help. If I were to agree to a campaign against the cult, you’re still ignoring the army at my doorstep.” He said. “With Lork O’Kal likely dead and my brother dead as well, I may be in line to be the next lord of Shimmer Town… However, none of that matters once the army of touch arrives.”
Malkev shook his head. “They will not keep me in charge once they take this town. They will make someone else Lord instead. Someone who will be more sympathetic to their cause. For me, it will be the gallows… Either that or chains. Given the choice, I would choose the former.”
When Malkev began, saying that he didn't even know if Karina had the means to go on a war campaign, he could only see a smug smirk coming from Karina. She was rather curious to see how he would react if he knew who she was...
"Do I have the means to do it? You would be surprised if you knew. Besides... The time to consider possible choices has passed, Malkev. You waited for too long. There are only two options now." she said with a chuckle.
"If you want for more bodies to keep piling up, then continue doing nothing. Waiting will only raise the body count and make things even harder when you finally understand that the cult needs to be dealt with. You saw how this town became with the cult. The kingdom itself is soon to follow with this administration..." Karina continued.
"You know why I'm coming to you to speak this to you even though I don't need to? Exactly due the position you're in right now. You are the only one who can make a difference and there's no better situation for that than now. When a bigger threat arises, people tend to forget things such as rivalries... and opportunities to prove one's skill and discernment are plenty. No matter where, a man with talent and discernment to make the right choices is always sought after and maybe... If you do the right choice, there might be someone important watching you..." Karina said that, looking at Malkev as she raised an eyebrow, analyzing the man's reactions.
"Now... I gave you enough information for you to start thinking about what you'll do. Of course, I still need to keep some secrets or else it would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? That said... remember this: The world won't wait for you to decide yourself. Wait for too long and you might lose your one opportunity." Karina finished with a smile and a piercing stare.
"Oh, but don't take me too seriously. Those were just advice. What do I know? As you said, I'm just a helpless girl that got caught up in this mess, am I not? The least I can do is help you to patrol the town." she said with a smirk.
Malkev looked to Karina and frowned. “I never called you helpless, lass. I merely was emphasizing that you talk big without providing the substance needed to reassure me.”
Malkev looked back ahead. Their destination was approaching. “When the Kharu-Natjer came to me, he provided food, shelter, and the knowledge to hide from the cult. As far as I can tell, you only offer a collar and promises that something nice will happen if I am a ‘good boy’.”
Ferris watched the scene unfold quietly. Though the Being had briefed him on Karina’s family, they had said nothing of her goals. What she was hinting at now aligned with what he’d assumed of her goals before, and however much he disliked the veiled statements she taunted Malkev with, he accepted it as part of a political background. He’d heard many stories of the pompous life of those in power, and most of them had woven lies and intrigue in at some point. As such, he figured such things normal, endemic to those who regularly embroiled in politics.
Malkev’s reaction, though, told him that while the man was used to such politicking, he had no love for it. In another world, Ferris may have sympathized, or even gotten along with him. They were both soldiers at their core, more eager to fight than attempt to mince words. In this world, however, he had been judged as a Crazed, and he could not protest the label. It was as much Malkev’s right to judge him as it was his to judge Malkev for subscribing to such prejudices.
The group came to a stop as they reached their destination. Malkev sighed as he pulled out pay and handed it to Karina and Ferris. He looked to Karina as he handed the woman her share. “I may not know which important person you might be, but the fact that you are keeping your identity a secret from me gives alarm. I told you who I am, why won’t you tell me who you are?”
Karina looked at Malkev, raising an eyebrow as he spoke. They had finished the patrol and the man was already handing out the promised pay but not before speaking a bit of his mind. Which wasn't all that comforting, especially when he talked about the Kharu-Natjer.
"You should know more than anyone exactly the type of person the Kharu-Natjer is. Not exactly someone that you should be able to trust blindly, especially seeing the position you're in." Karina said, rolling her eyes. While it was true that the Kharu helped them, it was also true that their entire trust was based solely on the precarious situation they were in and it might as well end completely the second the situation changes too.
"Regarding who I am... I do have much more to lose than you do by revealing my identity, Malkev But I guess that could be a token of trust... If I'm trying to make you trust me, the least I could do is trusting you back." Karina spoke.
"That said... I will assume you will keep it a secret. Don't make a mistake breaking the trust I am putting in you, Malkev. I do have high expectations for you." Karina said, looking straight to his eyes.
"Karina Frost. Lieutenant Colonel Karina Frost." she said as she took the money from his hand.
"It is a pleasure to know you." Karina said with a smirk as she took the money from him.
Malkev’s eyes widened. “Karina Frost… As in General Frost’s daughter?” His surprise quickly vanished as the implications sank in. His eyes darted to Ferris and back, his expression quickly darkening.
“Well, it certainly seems like you started a war under false pretenses... but we all knew that, didn’t we?” Malkev said coolly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need time to think.” The man strode off moments later, leaving Ferris and Karina behind.
Malkev’s reaction was along what Ferris had expected, though he also wouldn’t have been surprised if the man stuck around to ask Karina more questions. Leaving, however, was the smarter decision since it’d give him time to cool off and come up with a proper response. It was the political move for someone not greatly versed in politics, and Ferris respected that.
“He’ll probably still like you more than me,” Ferris remarked when Malkev was properly out of earshot. Prejudices tended to run deep, and no matter what happened, it remained that a lieutenant colonel was more respectable than a mercenary.
Karina simply let Malkev walk away without saying anything more. She had already gave him the information she needed, now she just had to wait and see if he would make the correct choice... or not. He would need time to think but he honestly didn't have that many options... And Karina was sure to tell that to him.
"He might hate me even more than you when this all is over. He has no other choices and he knows this. He knows that I know it too. That's why I'm pressing him against the wall like this. He only needs time to think and realize that I am his best option if he wants to clean this mess." Karina said as Ferris mentioned him still liking her more than him, with a half smile and a confident expression.
"Assuming he won’t do anything foolish, of course.” Karina finished. It was unlikely that Malkev would make a choice based on his emotions or a foolish choice. From what she saw from him, he was a wise man. It was the reason why she said she had high expectations of him.
Ferris nodded at her words. In the grand scheme of things, Malkev was a mere town commander trying to protect his town in a war between countries. Getting aid from Karina, be it in the form of her army’s assistance in combat or a mere word in his favor, was already more than he could hope for.
As for her remark that Malkev shouldn’t do anything foolish, Ferris paused for a second, reading the harmless remark for what it was from her calm tone and continued confidence. He agreed that Malkev seemed unlike the type to make hasty actions, but they also didn’t know Malkev that well. If there was any immediately recognizable flaw the general had, it was his prejudice and his tendency to allow it to show on his face and in his tone, which only went to show his lack of political expertise.
“As long as he doesn’t spread the information, he’ll likely play right into your palm,” Ferris commented as they started cleaning up the empty bags, the supplies already distributed. “I’m surprised the Kharu didn’t mention it to him, though. He seemed like he knew more than he was letting on.”
Karina didn't want to consider the idea that Malkev might spread the information, after all it was indeed quite a foolish thing to do since he would turn her, a potential ally, into an enemy but if he indeed did that, it could cause a lot of problems for her. It was still too soon for her identity to be discovered...
"It was a gamble. I won't say it's impossible but Malkev is smart. Too smart to do something that might turn me, a potential ally into an enemy... Or so I hope... If he indeed does that, it would cause problems for us both..." Karina replied.
"I don't trust the Kharu... Their support is but momentary and they seem to be exactly the type of person that would backstab someone if they saw benefit on it." she said with a worried expression.
Ferris nodded at her words. If Malkev turned on them, it would definitely cause problems, but he also agreed that Malkev didn’t seem the type to. As for the Kharu, Ferris agreed as well. Trusting someone at their word was rarely a good idea, and the Kharu had given them no indication of why he was helping them. Whether he seemed the type to backstab someone, though, Ferris couldn’t say. In his experience, anyone could backstab their allies, given enough of a reason to do so, and the people used to backstabbing others didn’t always have obvious tells.
“Whatever’s encouraging him to lend us aid for the moment, it doesn’t seem to have changed yet, so we can likely count on his help for a bit longer.” Ferris glanced at Malkev up ahead, frowning. “Whether or not we trust him, the Kharu is helping us right now, housing and connecting us to Malkev and the guard. I wouldn’t stake my life on him, but in a way we’re indebted to him.”
"Indebted... Not a word I like to use. He's not doing it for free. He has his own interests in mind, even if we don't know what they are right now." Karina replied.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, for now. I wouldn't stake my life on them either." Karina sair as she looked at ferris nodding towards him as she agreed with his words.
It was true that the Kharu was aiding them but as she said before, he had his motivations to do so. Even if they didn't know exactly what those motivations were.
"We should probably go as well. We're done aiding the patrol and it's not like there's anything left for us to do here." she finished.
When Karina pointed out that the Kharu was likely operating for his own benefit, Ferris wondered whether he should’ve clarified his point, but he decided against it. At the end of the day, he’d merely been stating the obvious, and she had a point too: They had no way of knowing how and to what extent the Kharu was benefiting from helping them. Perhaps they were merely additional chess pieces in the fight against the cult, or perhaps it was something more.
At her suggestion that they get going, he nodded. “Agreed. They look about done,” he said, looking to Malkev, who appeared to be dismissing soldiers up ahead. “I suppose we achieved our original goals for wanting to join this patrol, at least. I’ll see you around then.”
With that, they dispersed with the patrol, Ferris heading to his quarters to retrieve his hat and scarf. The wind on his face and hair wasn’t something familiar at this point, and he’d had enough of that for one morning.
Kenny Sokoloski
Rushford: Jenkin’s Diner || May 7th
While Kenny listened eagerly to Krisana and Henry’s discussion of how the group should move, she was grateful for Kent’s assertion that breakfast should come first. The smell of biscuits wafting up from the toaster oven beside her made her realize how hungry she was, and trying to think about future plans and risks on an empty stomach made her feel sick. Looking at the gun Karen pulled out only served to further curb her appetite as her mind skipped to thoughts of what it’d be used for, but she swallowed her discomfort, trying to focus on how helpful the weapon might be. It was something to fall back on in the case that things went wrong, and likely more effective than the bat she’d left sitting against her booth. Looking at the bat now, at the faint brown-black splotches she hadn’t been able to rinse off in the back, made her stomach turn, but she knew she’d have to steel herself for when they left the diner. She needed to be able to protect herself and the others, just as she needed to get to the summer camp. Caleb was counting on her.
The suggestion of omelets brought Kenny a surge of comfort, and she nodded in agreement with Krisana. “Omelets sound good to me too,” she said to Katie before focusing on the girl she knew from the candy store counter. Kenny hadn’t talked to Krisana much outside the store, but the curly-haired girl had always welcomed Caleb and her with bright smiles. Though Kenny didn’t love sweets, she enjoyed a good saltwater taffy now and then, and Caleb loved poring over the shelves of colors and tastes enough for her to have recognized Krisana easily the first day.
Krisana’s mention of the candy store, then, brought a sad smile to her face. Venturing outside to retrieve candy didn’t sound like the best idea to Kenny, but that was more because the thought of picking up her bat made her nervous than because she didn’t think it worth it to make a trip for sugar.
“Maybe heading to the candy store could be practice,” she suggested. A look around reminded her of how young she was in this crowd, and she felt a light beat of nervousness, but she continued on with only a minor waver in her voice. “We could stock up and get a look around town. We’d kill two birds with one stone.”
Mt. Moon: Group Campfire
Ella was no stranger to Mt. Moon. Sure she’d never traversed it in its entirety, and sure calling it familiar was a bit of a stretch, but she’d gone inside many a time by now. She’d even caught a Clefairy on one of its ledges, for Arceus’ sake. So yes, she’d thought an escape rope unnecessary. It was expensive, for one, and it was heavy. Too heavy to be carrying one all the time through the city and too bulky to fit comfortably in the stylish black backpack she’d brought along with her, which wasn’t the largest specimen anyway. Was it her fault that she thought she could venture into—not even through, into—a major cave system with no problem? Head in and out the same entrance, travel down the same path she had more than twice now?
The answer, unfortunately, was obvious. She could blame bad luck and freak incidents all she wanted, but at the end of the day it was her fault for not being prepared enough. She should’ve prepared, should’ve considered the possibilities and risks, and she didn’t. Worse still was the fact that she barely had more than a day’s worth of food and water on her. The plan had been to train in the morning and get back to town by nightfall, but now she was trapped in the tunnels, forced to acknowledge her carelessness.
In front of her, Fabs twirled to and fro, waving his arms about with a content smile on his face as he looked at the trainers gathered around him. Upon noticing Ella’s eyes on him, he spun towards her, tapping her with one hand. “Fairy,” he sang, his voice conveying a mild question of concern.
Realizing that he was pointing out her gloominess, she straightened, fixing a smile on her face. “Thanks Fabs, I’m good, and your dance is beautiful, as usual,” she said as she reached down to pet Quinn, who’d seated herself at her side. Avoiding the spines on Quinn’s back came naturally now, and the Nidoran shifted as Ella scratched under her jaw, stretching her legs out in front of her.
The taller girl spoke first, introducing herself as Lys, and Ella turned her smile on her and Char, appraising the Charmander silently. Though she’d considered buying herself a traditional starter species at one point, she’d ultimately decided against it. Having a nontraditional starter made you more relatable, more down-to-earth and less like an unreachable standard, and that was the image she wanted to project. Plus, it wasn’t like Quinn didn’t fit the role perfectly. Ella wouldn’t trade her Nidoran for the world, nevermind a starter, however much she might’ve wanted one at one point in time.
“I’m Ella, and this is Quinn,” she said, motioning at the Nidoran she was petting, “and Fabs,” she said, gesturing at the dancing Clefairy, who flashed a bright grin at the menton of his name, managing a surprisingly graceful piroutte before striking a pose with one arm pointed up to a side. “Nice to meet all of you! And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” she said, looking to Lys with a smile. “If anyone asks, all I remember are your amazing camping skills.”
Cavan Maynard
Mushroom Forest || Night
If the Ninjamon were following some sort of path, Cavan couldn’t see it. Instead, he was lead through acres of similar foliage that couldn’t be all that similar considering the variety of flora available, but which felt the same in that he couldn’t tell one direction from another after a few turns. The mixture of bright colors on dark ones made it difficult to focus on any plant in particular, and any sort of landmark they passed was seen again and again as bubblegum pink trees and neon yellow bushes repeated themselves every few meters.
The walk seemed endless, but the Ninjamon led the way silently, and the blade at his neck kept him moving. More than once he had to swallow the instinct to try and ask a question, but eventually the silence got the better of him.
“Where are we going?” he asked, and the blade against his neck pressed close enough to sting.
“Quiet! Save your words for the Flower Council!” the Ninjamon on his head said, loosening the blade. The stinging sensation it left, however, served to keep Cavan quiet and still even when Bax growled from behind him, his mind caught up on what felt distinctly like a drop of blood rolling slowly down his neck. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and it left him frazzled, unable to think about anything except the impossibility of it all. He’d found a digimon, travelled to the digital world, and been captured by digimon. Whether dying in the digital world was about to be tacked onto the list, he wasn’t sure, but his heart pounded just at the thought.
Whispers from the Ninjamon below caught Cavan’s attention before the change in scenery did. After turning his face so that the large leaf ahead brushed by harmlessly, he looked back to find that he’d stepped into a clearing. Flattened leaves of varying colors covered the floor, and around the clearing were trees and bushes of varying heights.
One of the Ninjamon hopped onto a nearby stump, clearing its throat. “Announcing Cavan and Black Gabumon! Found by the western border!”
Suddenly the clearing was surrounded by chatter, Cavan made out what he’d previously missed: Digimon in every nook and cranny of the trees and bushes around the clearing, tucked onto branches and between leaves. A cursory glance had him spot a multitude of Floramon, though interspersed between them were some Ninjamon and Kiwimon—their champion form digivolution.
A loud sequence of tight clacks interrupted the chattering, and the clearing quieted. From directly ahead stepped forth a particularly large Floramon, the two flowers making up its hands the size of basketballs. Considering the size of its petals, its veins easily stood out, striating its anatomy with a distinct pattern that disappeared into the joints that attached its head and arms to its glossy green body.
“Cavanmon, Gabumon, you stand before the Flower Council,” the Flowermon said, its voice feminine and high-pitched, yet loud enough to carry an intimidating cadence of authority. “Identify yourselves and state your reason for trespassing on flower territory.”
Beside him, Bax was rumbling with the start of another snarl, and Cavan glanced between him and the Floramon before steeling himself. There were a lot of eyes on him—easily more than a hundred, considering the size of most of the digimon present—but not talking had never been an option.
“I’m Cavan! I’m a human, and I came here to talk to Blossomon!” he called to the crowds.
The noise of conversation broke out instantly, at first quiet but gaining momentum into full-fledged clamor within seconds. Interrupting it was another sequence of sharp clacks, which Cavan was able to pinpoint to a Kiwimon drilling against a trunk behind the center Floramon, who, though engaged in conversation with some other Floramon beside it, looked rather perturbed by his words.
Silence fell again, and the center Flowermon was quiet for another second before straightening, a frown visible on its face. “Forgive the council for doubting you, but we do not know what a Humanmon is. Why you are requesting to see Blossomon further confuses us. Explain yourself.”
“I…” Cavan trailed off, not knowing what to say. He was just doing what he remembered doing in the game, but this was nothing like what happened in the game. In the game, talking to any of the Floramon present in the forest would prompt them to point you towards where Blossomon was at that time. That, though, was clearly not happening now, and Cavan had no idea where to go from here.
A beeping noise from his pocket caught his attention, and he instinctively reached for it, stopping when the cold sting of steel dabbed again at his neck.
“The council asks you to explain that noise,” the center Floramon said.
“I-It should be my Digivice, but I don’t know why it’s beeping. I-I need to check it to see,” Cavan said.
He looked at the Floramon, hoping it’d agree, and it did, nodding. The blade at his neck dropped, and he quickly reached into his pocket, his brows furrowing as he read the message displayed.
MISSION 1: Find out what happened in Mushroom Forest and return it to its original state.Though it didn’t read like a cryptic message, its timing and contents made it seem like one, but it helped stoke a flame of hope inside him. He had a clear goal now. All he had to do was figure out how to go about achieving it.
“Wait!”
The voice came from his left, hoarse enough to leave doubt as to whether or not it was truly masculine. From the crowds stepped forth a Kiwimon, its bone mask dull and worn with scratches, and when it looked at him, Cavan felt a shiver run down his back. A crack ran down one side of its mask, creating a web-like area that culminated a missing chunk right below its eye. Underneath the mask, Cavan could see the pale purple skin of the Kiwimon, featherless, wrinkled, and raw. It was scar tissue, judging by the brown feathers visible through the eyehole on the other side of the mask, and Cavan wasn’t sure he wanted to know what caused it.
“He’s a tamer. That’s a digivice, used by tamers to digivolve their Digimon.” The Kiwimon’s gaze was fixed on him as it spoke, and he realized that the eye on the cracked side was milky in color, blending in with the whites of its eye.
“Yes! That’s right!” His words were as frantic as his tone, but his gut told him to jump on the opportunity. “I’m a digimon tamer!”
A new round of whispering started as the council turned in on itself, the center Floramon’s eyes flicking between the Floramon beside it, who seemed more to be talking over each other than discussing amongst themselves. After another minute, though, it seemed to have had enough, and it swung back around, raising a hand to signal the drilling sound from a Kiwimon nearby. When the crowd quieted it fixed its gaze on Cavan, its expression guarded.
“Cavan the Humanmon, forgive us for doubting you, but there has not been a tamer in the forest for many years. Why have you come now?”
Cavan hesitated. There’d been no planning involved in his coming here, but judging by the mission his digivice was reporting, he was supposed to be and do something here. What he had to do was vague, and he wasn’t sure what “original state” the mission was talking about, but he’d have to try anyway.
“I’m here to help,” he said, glancing at Bax, who’d stilled enough to stare at him suspiciously. “Me and Bax both.”
The center Floramon glanced behind it, then met Cavan’s gaze again, nodding. “The council accepts your offer to help then, Cavan the Humanmon and tamer. Kiwimon will be your guide,” it said, gesturing to the Kiwimon who’d spoken earlier, who managed a nod after a grudging pause. “The council awaits your report, then. Good luck.”
With that, the digimon around the clearing seemed to melt back into to forest, the center Floramon filing into the foliage with the rest of the council, and the Ninjamon on his head jumped off, sheathing its blade with a tsk.
“We will be watching, Cavan the tamer. Do not let the council down,”’ it said.
“I’ll try not to,” Cavan said, watching it jump onto a tree nearby. Its fellow Ninjamon jumped off of Bax and joined it on the branch overhead, casting one last disapproving look at Cavan before melting into the leaves, Bax’s growls not ending until they disappeared completely.
“Well, that was a mess.” The Kiwimon with the cracked mask jumped down from its perch on a stump, plodding over to look Cavan up and down. “You’re really a tamer, huh? Thought my eyes were lying when I saw you walk in, but then you pulled that thing out,” it said, nodding at the digivice.
“Er, thanks for speaking out,” Cavan said. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten anywhere if you didn’t.”
“The Ninjamon weren’t kidding, you know, so save it,” the Kiwimon said, looking down at Bax, who’d started again with the growls, his eyes fierce as he glared at the larger digimon. “Bax, was it? Happy little bundle of fur, aren’t you?”
“He, uh, doesn’t like strangers,” Cavan said, stepping forward to put himself in front of the growling Black Gabumon. “You’re my guide, then?”
“Guess so. Not like I volunteered, but maybe I’d have thought about it considering you’re a tamer.” It fixed its one green eye on Cavan, squinting at him before nodding and turning away. “Right, let’s talk on the way. We’ve a long way to go, so might as well start now.”
Cavan blinked but followed quickly, glancing behind him to make sure Bax was following before jogging to catch up to the Kiwimon’s pace. “Where are we going?” he asked, his eyes drawn to the powerful muscles that made up the Kiwimon’s legs. They were what he imagined ostrich legs to be like, and they seemed abnormally large on the otherwise dog-sized bird.
“To see Blossomon” the Kiwimon replied simply. “Or what’s left of him, at least.”
Alice Takigawa
Mushroom Forest || Night
The juxtaposition of Izzy and Sunny brought a smile to Alice’s face. Where Sunny was literally sunny and rather naive, Izzy was a kid-sized bundle of jaded maturity that sharply contrasted her age. Though the two personalities should’ve clashed, Izzy seemed to have enough capacity for patience to rein despite his thoughtlessness, and they made an interesting pair.
As she watched the two talk, Alice wondered whether she’d been that mature at twelve, or however old Izzy was. In middle school, she’d buried her head in her studies, barely looking up enough to talk to her classmates, much less befriend them. Maybe she would’ve been as mature as Izzy seemed, had she made friends, but even back then her interactions had mostly been online, where emojis and gifs did the talking for her, so it was difficult to say.
“Right, Sunny,” Alice said, offering the Muchomon a stiff nod and smile before looking back at Izzy. “And I won’t tell the others your name if you don’t want me to. It’s name, so it’s your call.”
A pair of beeping sounds called Alice’s attention to her digivice, and she raised, brows furrowing as her eyes skimmed over the words on the screen. “A mission? Like a raid-mission in-game?”
Doru walked over to glance at the screen. “What does it say?”
“‘Find out what happened in Mushroom Forest and return it to its original state.’” Alice looked up at Izzy. “Find out what happened? Did something happen to the forest?”
She looked around, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. In every direction were trees, bushes, and mushrooms of varying colors, each competing to fill what space was available. Though she didn’t remember much of the forest in the game, she remembered how colorful it’d been, how chock-full of color the background was right from the get-go. But what was different about it?
“And what does ‘original state’ mean? Original like the game, or original as in… before the game?” She bit her lip, her mind whirling. ‘Find out what happened’... Those words were too close to the ones that started every mystery game she’d played for her not to instantly assume the worst, and mystery games tended not to have happy settings.
Afton Reimer
Mushroom Forest || Night
Her phone dinged as she straightened, and she opened it to find some messages from Asher. Since there was no signal, she repocketed her phone, figuring she could get some more exploring done before the others started returning from the digital world.
“Monodramon, can you smell anything?” she asked, looking at the winged digimon, who sniffed imperiously in response.
“Smell anything? I’m a dragon, not some lowly beast. I don’t go around sniffing things on all fours like a worm hunting dirt, and—” He paused mid-sentence, sniffing again. “Actually, mushrooms. I smell mushrooms. Lots of mushrooms.”
Afton frowned, glancing around the place again. From what she could remember, the Mushroom Forest emphasized balance, especially that of the forest. Plants grew, died, and were decomposed by the fungi in the forest, which broke down and released the nutrients previously used by each plant for the forest to reuse. Life and death, use and reuse—those were the facets of the forest, the cycles constantly running, chasing each other into creating the forest. In the game, it’d been personified by the Floramon and Mushroomon inhabiting the forest, which checked each other with the help of the local guardian, Blossomon. The Ultimate level digimon was the caretaker of the forest, acting as both guard and guardian to its inhabitants, and it was careful to not let either side win over the other. The mushroom smell, then, was mildly concerning since it seemed to imply that there were more mushrooms than plants in this part of the woods, but her eyes weren’t seeing the imbalance Monodramon smelled.
“Afton?” Monodramon padded over, his eyes inquisitive. “Why’re you just standing there?”
“I’m thinking,” she said, walking over to a patch of mushrooms nearby. “Are you smelling these mushrooms?”
“Yes. Well, kinda. I’m smelling Mushroomon too,” Monodramon said, pointing at the foliage to their left, grinning. “They’re over there, watching, but there’s only a few of them, so they’re afraid to come out. They know I’ll eat them.”
A grin had stretched across his face, but Afton only spared him a glance. Her attention was instead focused on the Mushroomon he’d just mentioned, and she stared at the leaves he’d pointed at, still. There were wild digimon hidden in those leaves, and Monodramon assumed they were scared of him, not that they were biding their time or waiting for reinforcements.
At the first beep of her digivice, Afton silenced it, reading the words and pausing to think. She had two options here: One, to head back through the portal now and risk informing the Mushroomon of her ability to use portals, or two, to head deeper into the woods.
“Monodramon, let’s go,” she said, straightening and heading in the opposite direction of the hostile foliage.
“Where are we going? Do you know how to get around here?” Monodramon asked, now better able to keep pace with her.
The forest was dense, but Afton pushed on, sidestepping the mossy,slippery roots in favor of the rougher ones around it. “To find Blossomon, or some Floramon. Whichever one we find first.”
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