#creature loop

[starly-amazing]

Cover art by @mothacabra as a donation commission for Palestine. Commission them here!

A Star From the Multiverse - Ch 6 is OUT!

Fic summary: After FINALLY beating the King after thousands of tries, Siffrin is STILL sent back to Dormont. They. Just. Can't. Do. It. Anymore. They drag themself through the day and to the Favor Tree in the dead of night, begging, wishing for help...and they get it in the form of a strange creature with talons and feathers and fangs.

Chapter summary: Back in the blinding building again (again)! Can they kill the King this time?

Rating: Mature | Graphic depictions of violence & all the canon-typical warnings. Chemical burns.

[Read on Ao3]

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The void again.

The sensations seem to glow before him.

Floor two's safe room taunts them, brighter than the others.

If he just made it a little further...

Just to floor three.

...

Everything is dampened.

It's almost peaceful.

Maybe you can use this to get some rest.

Without the constant reminder of how blinding stupid you are.

Ah.

Never mind.

They feel their burning thoughts rage behind a thick curtain of fog.

Whatever.

Maybe you can stay here for a while.

Time doesn't move here, so you're not wasting anyone's life.

Maybe.

...

...

...

Just enjoy feeling

N o t h i—

Siffrin wakes up in Dormont.

The grass pokes at his face.

...

Ah.

Of course.

Of course, you can't rest!

Not even a little bit!

Why would you expect anything else?

Oh! Here come the thoughts again!

Here we go!

Tee hee~!

Ohh!

That was awful!

And stupid!

You're stupid!

They JUST warned you about that, and you went and got yourself melted into a Frin puddle! Burning spicy Frin soup! Cooked from the inside and out, sliced and diced into fine pieces, pulverized until tender! Serve with a tall glass of tears!

Taa hee~!

Just like that!

Frin puddle!

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHhA

Hahahah hahhhaha

...

Welp.

...

...

...

Mirabelle will be here soon.

....

...

...

Back to it, Siffrin. You have a... something to do...

Or whatever.

>>>

He stands before the Favor Tree. Their interactions with the Housemaiden and Fighter went smoothly for once—or maybe he was just too numb to notice anything different aside from the weird hand thing Isabeau did again.

Taking a breath, they step into the darkness.

Loop time.

At least there's still memories to recover.

For now.

He blinks a few times to adjust his eye and looks up. Loop sits in their spot in the Favor Tree, peering down at them with that same confused expression.

Siffrin clambers up to their own seat and plops down with a sigh.

Already a routine.

He looks at Loop. They blink and tilt their head.

He waits.

"Hmm, stardust, I believe. I have a feeling I should—"

"Yes, yes, you should know me, we met before. You're a rukemi. You call yourself Loop. I'm a human. I call myself Siffrin. I'm stuck in a time loop, and you forget like ninety-nine percent of what I say. We're trying to kill the King. We keep dying. Can't even blinding get back to fight him again."

"Ah. Well. Okay. Uhm." Their ears fold back, and feathers on their face puff out fully. They look around wildly and wince, paw flying to their face, over their destroyed eye. "Well. Yes. Okay. Yes, the time loops make a lot more sense now, but I still can't say I'm one hundred percent convinced I'm not just a brain in a jar or in a video game or something.”

"A what?" Their eyebrow twitches upward.

"Never mind. Anyway! I said I would help you, didn't I? I think?"

He grumbles and nods.

"Well, I seem to be failing pretty terribly at that, aren't I?" They let out a nervous chuckle and dig their claw into the bark. The feathers on their face seem to deflate, and they look off beyond the leaves.

Siffrin sighs and lowers their head.

"Well, the uh... 'chemical warfare' idea you had is pretty good if I could blinding get to the King without getting myself killed horribly."

"Chemical warfare??? Did I really suggest war crimes?" Their head seems to sink into their shoulders as their ears flatten. "Well... he is a King, so I guess it cancels out." They shrug and ruffle the feathers on their shoulders.

"He deserves so much worse."

"Right," Loop says. "So."

Siffrin sighs and hits his head on the trunk. He digs his fingers into his arm; they can almost feel their skin still burning under their glove.

"Sooo," Loop repeats. "This is where you tell me your life story, isn't it?"

"Hrm."

"Ooor we can just sit here in silence while you admire my beautiful plumage."

"Just...give me a minute." They close their eye and sigh.

They can't help themself again; they can feel the manic desperation bubble up from within them as they start to recount their time in the loops. It seems to take a bit longer for them to pick up steam, but as soon as they catch a whiff of a buried memory, they take off on their wild tangents once again.

If only Loop could remember.

If only he could just skip talking about the loops entirely.

Just have a little more time, not thinking about them.

Ugh.

As the memories taper off once again, and Siffrin slumps breathlessly in his seat, Loop simply blinks and coughs.

"Hm, well, I see now how I might have suggested spraying him with drain cleaner."

"Yes, so what other suggestions do you have?" he rasps, massaging his throat.

"Well," they open their mouth. They close it and put a paw to their head, grimacing. "More drain cleaner?"

He slams his head against the tree, harder this time. "What if it's not enough? What if nothing's enough? None of the books I found have anything useful! What if I'm just walking us all back to our deaths another thousand times? I can't keep doing this, do you know how to feels to die?" He runs his nails down the bark again and again until his nails chip and fingers bleed.

"Well...not physically," Loop mutters, poking at a beetle. "But! You said you haven't faced him again since we've met. So it's too early to give up hope, don't you think?"

"I gave up hope a long time ago. I don't even know why I'm bothering with this." Their body slumps against the trunk, and they slide down.

"Wow. Grim. And I thought I was bad."

"Huh."

"Nothing, nothing! Just keep chipping away, stardust! You can't fuck it up every time!"

"Wow, thanks."

Loop sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't want to be here any more than you do." Their voice is low, defeated, but they immediately perk up and curve their eye upward in a smile. "But I guess we're both stuck now!"

Siffrin grumbles.

Another sigh. "I'm sure your party will be more useful than I am with this. Maybe try talking to them this time. Just the once?"

"No," they say flatly. "I can do this on my own."

"You say that, yet you just said you gave up hope."

Siffrin grumbles again while ripping a piece of bark off and tossing it.

"It's getting late. I should get back." They slide off the branch and hop to the ground. Loop says nothing, but he can see them waving from the corner of their eye.

>>>

Dinner time.

Tastes like ash.

The Hous—Mirabelle says her speech. Agree to follow her to the end of time. Keep smiling.

Group hug.

Without you.

>>>

Isabeau tries to tell them that thing again. The thing he chickens out of saying every time.

At least they're acting normal enough, he's bringing it up again.

>>>

House time.

Second pillar on the right.

Crash!

Keys. Doors. Spike trap. Go around. Get poison. More traps. Keep smiling.

Safe room. Sit and rest while friends talk about—

"BECAUSE IT'S SNACKS TIME, BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!"

Huh?

Siffrin blinks away their stupor and sees Bonnie rush off to the corner of the room. He rubs his eye as they pull out a massive amount of snacks from their bag.

He tilts his head.

Okay, this is definitely new.

Everyone else is sitting in their usual spot. But Bonnie never made snacks before. Right? There was just the candy and snack they had on the only loop they defeated the King... Oh, and those fruit slices they insisted Siffrin try whenever he caught them eating in the classroom.

The ones that killed him.

Several times.

What were they again? Apples? No. Pineapples.

He scratches his throat.

"...Oh, I remembered something." Odile reaches into her pocket. "Isabeau, heads or tails?"

"Huh?" He pauses, wiping a small scuff on his shoe. "Um... Tails!"

Odile flips a coin high in the air; everyone but Bonnie watches it spin an impressive number of times before she catches it and slaps it down on the back of her hand.

"...Huh. I lost," she shrugs and gives the coin a quick spin before pocketing it.

"Yay!" He cheers and claps for himself. "What do I win?"

"The sweet taste of victory and nothing else."

"I don't even get congrats? Wow m'dame... I thought we were friends..."

"We're not friends," she huffs and rolls her eyes with a smirk.

What?

Siffrin raises their head.

"We're associates."

His blood runs cold. They lock on to Odile, eye wide.

"Not companions?" Isabeau pouts, fluttering his eyelids.

"Colleagues. Allies, at best."

Allies?

"Not even..." Isabeau and Odile's voices fade into background noise. Siffrin freezes. His breath stutters. He—

Allies?

They think of you as just allies?

This whole time?

Not friends.

Just allies.

Just.

Allies.

Allies!

ALLIES!?

...

...

...

They take in a sharp breath. His lungs burn. He can't—he can't—

Of course.

Of course!

Why would they think of you as more than an ally?

You should be grateful they even think of you as that!

If they knew—if they KNEW how many times you failed them. How many times you brought them to their deaths!

If they knew!

They wouldn't even think of you as that!!!

Failure!

Useless!

Selfish!

Manipulative!

'Allies' is more than you deserve.

But still...

He digs his nails into his chest.

Still!

You actually thought!

This whole time, you still thought you all were friends!

Allies!

Just!

Just allies!!!

...

...

...

"SIF!"

"HUH!?" Siffrin nearly jumps out of his skin as he's torn from his mind. Catching himself with hands slamming hard on the tile, he focuses back in to see Isabeau, Bonnie, and Mirabelle crowding around them with Odile close behind.

Isabeau holds his hands up and backs away. "Ah! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you like that but you were breathing really hard and not responding to any of us." He pauses to catch his breath. "Are you okay?"

Siffrin blinks.

What? Where are you now?

Oh, right, first floor safe room.

...

Allies.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" they smile. "Is everybody done with their snacks? We should probably move on."

"Uh, Bonbon hasn't handed them out yet." Isabeau exchanges glances with the others. "Sif, are you—"

"Yep! I was just thinking!"

"About?"

They open their mouth...

...

"I forgot!"

Everyone frowns. Isabeau clenches and relaxes his hands.

"Anyway! Let's eat! I feel good about this fight!"

At the very least, you'll get to burn his blinding eyes out.

Odile sighs. "Okay, Boniface, what snacks have you prepared for us?"

"LOTS! I HAVE LOTS OF SNACKS!!!! Guaranteed to make you full and boost moral!"

"Morale, Boniface."

Allies.

"That's what I said! Anyway! Today, I have..."

They dig into their bag and produce...

"Some PLANTAIN CHIPS!!!!"

"Oooh, did you use the last of those not-bananas to make them?"

"Yes. Yes, I did." They nod proudly. "Crunchy. Delicious. And full of potassium.” The snacks rattle in their hands. “That's plantain chips!!!"

Everyone begins to clap. Siffrin joins in absentmindedly.

Just allies.

"Second snack is..." They dig into their bag again. "Some boring but delicious cookies!!!

"Cookies!!!"

Their allies ' voices start to fade into nothing.

"Great sales pitch, Bonbon. 'Boring but delicious. Cookies, the taste of home.'"

>>>

"FRIN!"

"HWAH???

"YOU BLANKED OUT AGAIN! WHAT SNACK DO YOU WANT?"

"Oh! Uh!"

Stars, what was the third one? Or the second, or first?

Boring but delicious.

"Cookies, please!" They smile.

"Okay! Here! You! Go! Get your moraaaaaaaaale up! Up! Up!"

"Thank you!" They take a small bite of the cookie. It doesn't taste like nothing, at least. In fact, it tastes halfway decent!

"Siffrin, are you sure you're okay?" Mirabelle leans a bit closer to them and bites at a bit of dead skin on her lip.

"Yep!" he says while spraying cookie crumbs everywhere. "Just hungry! Feeling better already with Bonnie's amazing cooking!"

"Really!? It's that good? I mean of course it's that good! If it can cheer Frin up when they're feeling like crab, you know it's good!" They cross their arms and give a triumphant nod.

"It is good, Bonbon!" Isabeau takes a big bite of his rice triangle thing. He jumps. "Are these apple slices?"

"Yep! I saw Dile put plum in some a while ago, so I figured I'd try putting another fruit in there!"

They turn to Odile, who had just taken a tiny bite from hers.

She stares at the rice triangle.

Just...allies.

"It's okay, Dile. I know you're old and don't like change, so I have one with a plum if you want."

"Thank... You."

Just...

>>>

They're at the door to the third floor.

Siffrin removes the key from his pocket without dropping any of the caustic chemicals.

But...

There's still that sadness up ahead. Even if they don't get ambushed like a blind idiot, he still could break some of the bottles in the scuffle.

They should hand them off to Bonnie, but...

"Wait here."

"Huh?"

Siffrin dashes back to the nearest room.

Nope.

Next.

Nope.

Next.

Ah!

He spots a few coats hanging by the door. They swipe them all and rush back.

"What was that all about, Siffrin?" Odile narrows her gaze.

They start pulling bottle after bottle out of their pockets and line them up on the bench.

"What."

"Uhm, I was thinking. We should probably use any boost we can get in our fight."

"And you thought of using caustic chemicals?" She taps her book. "That's actually not a bad idea, Siffrin."

Bonnie squints at one of the labels. "You're gonna put soaps and stuff on the King? That's so funny! But why?"

Odile pulls out her notebook and scans the bottles. "Some of these, when mixed, can be incredibly caustic and can potentially blind him or cause respiratory distress."

Bonnie gasps and scoots closer to the bench. "Whoa. That's so cool!"

Isabeau already begins rearranging the bottles. "Yeah, some of these can burn! Great thinking, Sif!" He smiles at Siffrin for a brief moment before quickly turning back when they notice his darkening cheeks.

"Just want our fight to go as smoothly as possible!" They smile wider.

Mirabelle picks at her fingernail. "I don't know, that seems a bit cowardly to fight him like that."

"Mirabelle." Odile looks over her book. "This is The King we're talking about. The one who froze your home and country in time. The one who locked himself away at the top of the House that had to be opened with orbs spread across the entirety of Vaugarde?" She readjusts her glasses. "

"Yeah...yeah! You're right!" Her expression hardens with determination. "Let's burn his gross face right off!"

"That's the spirit, Mira!" Isabeau pats her on the back. She seems to relax and let her hands fall to her side.

"Yeah! Burn it right off!" Bonnie cheers with their fists raised high.

Odile chuckles. "Let's be careful not to influence our gentle Mirabelle too much. We don't want her entering her villain era just yet."

"Hee hee!" Mirabelle covers her mouth with a hand and bats her eyes cutely.

"Evil Belle! What evil things will she do!?"

"Haha, yeah Mira! What are your plans for world domination?"

"Uhm..." She looks a little unsure again. With a little gasp, she looks at Isabeau and Bonnie with a smirk. "Secret~!"

"Aw boo!" Isabeau and Bonnie say in unison.

"Okay, okay, reigning this back in, children. We still have a ways to go." She ignores everyone's pouts and nods at the coats Siffrin gathered. "I'm assuming you grabbed those to prevent any accidents?"

He shrugs and nods. "Wouldn't want to turn into a Siffrin puddle if a sadness hits us out of nowhere!"

Bonnie scrunches their nose. "Hahha, eww, Frin puddle!"

"It would probably be best if Boniface were to carry the bottles. We can make a makeshift bag with this coat here so they can easily drop it and run if need be."

"Yes! I get to hold the poison!"

>>>

Huh?

Oh!

Okay!

They're moving, finally!

Through the door.

Don't zone out!

There's the sadnesses nearby!

Don't! You! Forget!

They slow down as they near the hall they were ambushed in last time.

As expected, they hear faint shuffling from ahead.

Holding their hand out, they pull out their dagger. The others catch on and prepare.

And there they are. Not even looking at them!

They look weird, though, like two halves of a person.

Siffrin locks onto the paper type and just attacks.

It wails and thrashes around—the other one, a rock type, whips around and barrels forward, but Odile is ready with her Paper Craft.

The shorthaired one lashes out and hits Isabeau square in the chest. He stumbles back with a wheeze but manages to stay on his feet.

They're strong.

The long-haired one hits Odile with a rock move. It still sends her flying against the wall despite her resistance.

Bonnie darts in and out with tonics, bag of poison tucked safely behind a pillar.

Stronger than any other sadness they've faced in the House.

By the time they've finished, they're all shaking and out of breath and down half of their tonics.

"Please tell me there's no more of these before the King."

Well, if the House is what you remember, then...

"I hope not," Mirabelle mumbles while healing a big scrape on Isabeau's arm. "We should move forward and collect ourselves. I feel like there's a safe place to rest up ahead."

They all nod and hobble on forward. Bonnie nearly forgets the bag.

Just as Mirabelle assumed (and as Siffrin remembered!), they arrive at the same room that's been etched into his mind after every single time they died to the King.

The four of them lean against the wall and sink to the floor.

They all take turns tending to one another, Mirabelle with her healing Craft and the others with wash cloths, medicine, and bandages.

He starts to...

>>>

"Okay! ARE WE READY FOR SNACKS TIME!?"

Again?!

They blink to awareness as Bonnie once again runs off to the corner of the room. He forces himself to focus as their allies talk about their (forever impermanent) deaths, as Bonnie hands out their selection of snacks, as he nibbles on a madeline, which doesn't taste completely like ash, still.

It's new. It's new. They know there weren't snacks here or in the last safe room. But why???

Ugh. Why does it matter? Snacks! Enrichment!

What else are they supposed to be expecting from now on?

They brush off all the crumbs and head out.

Okay. Nothing too weird yet.

Just...

THE ROOM WITH THE WINE IS GONE!

Ughhhhhh.

Whatever. It's not like you remember to drink it half the time anyway.

Okay, sadness again. A little easier to kill after the experience from that last fight.

Kitchen looks different.

She didn't get upset over the plates. That's a plus.

Even more sadnesses.

Ah, the torch, at least this room didn't vanish, too.

Okay. Hair time.

Fwoosh!

>>>

Siffrin is ripped back into consciousness at the sounds of clinking glass.

They're in the final safe room.

Odile takes inventory of the bag of tonics. "I'm more convinced Siffrin's idea was the right call after the sadnesses we've encountered."

Nobody's asking—demanding to know what's wrong with him.

"Yeah! Brutal but effective!"

They envision Isabeau holding onto his hands, warm grip like steel, sweat soaking through their gloves in a weirdly comforting way.

"Hopefully," Mirabelle adds.

Isabeau pats her on the back. "It'll be okay, Mira. We've got this!"

Siffrin nods automatically.

They imagine her hands cupping their cheeks, her fingers brushing just below his scarred eye.

"Yes. I am feeling optimistic about this battle, despite our roadblocks on the way up."

He thinks about her ruffling his hair and struggling to comfort him in her own way.

"Yeah! And I've got SNACKS for one last SNACK TIME! WOO!"

Well...at least there's that. Though it's not exactly personal anymore.

They smile and nod through Bonnie's spiel and—

His nose twitches.

"And, um, the last snack..."

Bonnie cautiously collects the next option.

Another aromatic wave hits Siffrin and he salivates for the first time in Universe knows how long.

"Okay, I've never tried it before, but—"

"Ma—!" He... can't remember their name but can't forget that smell!

"Malanga fritters!" Bonnie says.

"!!!" Siffrin reaches out, and without another word, Bonnie hands him a napkin wrapped around a large helping of them.

They stare.

So crispy and greasy! Just like they were back—

There's a twinge behind their missing eye.

<<<

So crispy and greasy. They look so good!

He fishes out the biggest one and brings it to his mouth.

He takes another long sniff.

And pauses.

They're going to taste like ash, aren't they?

No. Not completely, the other snacks didn't!

But...

Bonnie is watching them intently.

You can't disappoint them!

Just pretend you dropped them in the dirt, but still are going to eat them because they're so good!

"What's wrong, Frin? Are you worried I messed them up? Because I promise I worked really hard on them! So they'll have to be good!"

"What? No! No, I know they're good, it's just..." Think, Siffrin. "It's been a while."

A long, long, long while.

Bonnie's head tilts.

Siffrin shoves an entire fritter in his mouth and bites down with a nice crunch.

Ignore the ash. Ignore the ash. Ignore the ash!

It's good. It's good. It's good!

"Well!?" Bonnie leans forward.

"Mmmmpphfhfh." Siffrin nods.

Malanga fritters.

It's been so long.

They chew slowly and focus on the surviving flavor.

They feel like they're going to cry.

Something new—something...

Not at all like the previous time in that room. Nothing like the time that led to them finally killing him.

Everything's different! There's no way you could have replicated last time anyway!

But it's fine! It's not like you have to when you won't ever be close enough to get hit with that one attack tee hee~!

They look at their hands to see nothing but crumbs and a thin shine of grease.

The lingering flavor slowly sours into an aftertaste.

They're still hungry.

>>>

"Okay. Do you all remember the plan?" Odile taps on the largest bottle.

Bonnie furiously nods. "Yeah! We go up to him and pretend we're going to have a fair fight, then BOOM! ACID IN THE FACE!"

"Technically, most of these are bases, but yes, essentially."

"You're a bases."

"Boniface ." Odile pinches the bridge of her nose. "Anyway, yes, aim for the face or anything exposed, throw, and run. Isabeau and I will be waiting right behind this door as backup if things go sour. Do not taunt the King. Do not converse with him. Do not give him any chance to turn it back in his favor."

Bonnie is nearly bouncing on their feet. "We’re gonna crab him up so bad he won’t know what hit him!!!"

Both Siffrin and Mirabelle take a deep, slow breath and nod.

He pats the bottles under their cloak, picks his head up high, and walks through the door.

As always, the King kneels before a nest of his own darkless hair.

Don't forget. Don't forget. Don't forget. MIRA has to deal the final hit. SHE'S the chosen one, not you.

You just have to make sure there's a first hit.

The walk to the King is long and tedious, as always.

Breathe in, and out.

Don't get your hopes up.

But.

It has to be.

It has to be it.

But.

Don't get your hopes up.

It is hopeless, after all.

But it has to be it!

It has—

"Ah...... ah......"

They stop before the King and glare. Their fingers twitch.

"Oh...... Young ones......"

He lowers his fists to scan the party.

"Are you...... here to kill me......? With just two of you............? And a child........?"

"Yep." Siffrin whips the bottles from his pockets with zero fanfare and chucks them directly into the King's face. They both make contact with a satisfying shatter. Bonnie's hits immediately after—before he even has a chance to cover his face.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH WHAT IS THIS?"

He doubles over as Mirabelle's bottles shatter at his feet. He takes one step before crashing to the floor with a resounding slam. The sounds of his rattling armor echo throughout the room almost as loud as his wails

"Run!"

The three of them take off as the King screams and flounders like a newborn fawn on ice. He hurls curse after curse at them, fumbling to regain his footing, remove a gauntlet, and wipe the chemicals from his eyes.

Closer, closer. Odile and Isabeau wave them on and slam the door behind them.

Everyone stands there, panting heavily for a moment. Even Isabeau seems winded.

Bonnie runs in place and waves their arms. "Hahah, oh crab! That was awesome! And scary! Scary awesome!"

"I can't believe that worked!" Isabeau peeks through the door. "He's still thrashing around out there. I don't even think he can follow us if he tried; his hair's tangled in everything!"

"And he keeps slipping!" Bonnie points and laughs.

"Oh, I hope he doesn't collapse the floor." Mirabelle worries.

"It is possible, but..." Odile glances out. "He's sitting back down trying to wipe it off now."

Siffrin's back hits the wall, and they slide down with a slow exhale.

It worked?

They take another breath.

It worked!

Hahaha! Was it really that simple?

No. No. Don't get your hopes up, Siffrin. That's when everything falls apart.

But...

He scoots closer to the door and peeks out.

Just like Isabeau said, the King is on his knees, furiously wiping his face with a massive hand. One gauntlet is discarded by his side.

The smile that creeps on their face is not forced, for once.

Even if they don't kill him this time...

At least there's some joy they can glean from making him suffer just a fraction of what he's put them all through.

Hahah! Burn till you're nothing more than a pile of regolith dust!

They want to watch him melt into a King puddle, but Odile closes the door and clears her throat.

"If the curse wasn't only a few hours away, I would have suggested waiting it out and letting him succumb to infection. But as it stands, I wouldn't want to gamble on us being frozen and leaving Mirabelle on her own if he does manage to recover."

"Right." Mirabelle clasps her hands to her chest and nods.

"It'll be okay!" Isabeau smiles. "It'll be an easy peasy fight."

"Lemon squeezy?" Bonnie's eyes seem to sparkle with hope.

"Lemon squeezy!" He gives them a thumbs up.

"Then we got this!" They cheer with their fists in the air.

"Don't get too brash," Odile chastizes. "He's still dangerous even blinded and burned."

Bonnie grumbles, but the others nod slowly.

"You okay, Sif?"

"Huh?" They blink a few times and see Isabeau hovering over him.

"You okay?" He tilts his head.

"Yeah!" They realize they have their cloak bunched up in their fists. He lets go.

The others have stopped talking and are now looking at them.

They smile wider. "Really! Hey, he's not thrashing so much, we should probably head out now before it gets too quiet."

Odile narrows her gaze. "Right," she sighs. "Everyone caught their breath?"

The party nods, Siffrin a little too forcefully.

Odile, Mirabelle, and Bonnie slowly creep out the door. Isabeau puts his hand on it and turns back to Siffrin, voice low.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course! A-okay and ready Freddy!" They whisper-yell.

Isabeau's smile wavers. He studies them. Scrutinizes him. But then he exhales, nods, and heads out the door.

Siffrin gives his aching cheeks a quick massage and follows.

The King is up ahead, looking like a mess. They can hear his ragged breathing from halfway across the room. Every few moments, he lets out a set of wheezing coughs. He's still sobbing like a child, like he didn't freeze an entire country and kill Siffrin and their friends allies a thousand times.

Closer. Closer.

The King doesn't seem to notice them. They hold their weapons at the ready.

Closer.

The party reaches the border of his trembling shadow and line themselves up along it. They silently power each other up, mouthing the words in order to channel some of the Craft energy out.

Odile raises a hand.

Three.

Siffrin grips their dagger.

Two.

Isabeau clenches his fists.

One.

Mirabelle raises her rapier.

GO!

With a practiced synchrony, the four of them let off their strongest attacks all at once. They all connect with his mottled face and hands, tearing into his skin and splashing blood in every direction.

He wails again and thrashes out at them, but the party dodges back with ease.

"Saviors!" He bellows. "DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE YOUR COWARDLY TACTICS ARE ENOUGH TO DEFY THE UNIVERSE’S WILL?”

Siffrin attacks again before anyone else is close to ready with theirs.

"Ohhhh... ohhhhh............... You know........." He stops to cough and cough.

He's still not attacking.

"It still won't be enough..."

Wait.

He raises both hands, dark splotches etch his fingers and palms, raw and weeping.

Of course.

Siffrin lowers their dagger.

It's never enough.

The King snaps his fingers.

[ Y o u   s e e   a   v i s i o n   o f   t h e   f u t u r e ]

Every cell in their body alights in fire as their mind is smashed in from every direction.

Everyone hits the tiles with nothing more than a grunt.

Why, why, why?

Siffrin can't move—can't even make a sound.

We're so close!

We—

Of course, he could still use that attack! It hits everything! He doesn't need to aim!

Stupid stupid!

"Ohhhhhh ohhhhh Saviors........... You thought it was enough." He flexes his gauntlet. "All you have done was prevent me from viewing my perfect ending. I will still rest easy knowing Vaugarde will be frozen in eternal perfection............... even if I can no longer see it.............."

The others lay there silently. Isabeau and Odile both hold their finger to their lips.

Oh.

There's still a chance.

Mirabelle's fingers twitch.

If Mira can just recover enough to...

Yes. Yes, you just have to hold on long enough.

Isabeau is smiling at them. His eyes are hazy, and blood slowly trickles from a gash on his brow.

Siffrin blinks slowly, his lips twitch upward just a fraction. It's all they can do.

Just wait. Just wait.

Breathe in. And out.

The sound of heavy footsteps makes their blood run cold.

Shit!

"Boniface stay back!" Odile screams.

SLAM.

The wet sound of shattering bones echoes through the cavernous room. They can't see her body over Isabeau, but they can picture the scene perfectly.

No! No, no, no!

No!

Stars. Stars blind it all!

Even if we win this time...

Bonnie skids to a halt and freezes. A tonic tumbles from their grasp and shatters in front of them. Their hands slam over their mouth, nails digging into their skin.

"Dile?" they squeak.

Odile can only manage a single wheeze before she goes silent. The King's fist drips a trail of blood as he pulls back.

Bonnie! They're still out of range. Please, please don't move, don't move, don't move.

"Ohhhh............... Saviors.............. Some of you are still breathing........? Ohhhhhh... What a pity for you all.........”

Isabeau squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip. Blood trickles from his mouth as he breathes deeply. Opening them once more, slowly, he pulls a despairing smile back on and mouths something Siffrin can't quite make out.

There's no point now.

He has to end it... Start again.

But they can't. Blinding. Move.

Mirabelle is facing the King, glaring right through him. Just like every time before her. Yet this time there's no satisfaction of angering him in her final moments if he can't see the look of brave defiance in her eyes.

She clenches a fist.

Gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, she rolls to her side.

Siffrin's eye pleads with her to stay still. If she understood his message, she chooses to ignore it.

Mira, please no.

Not without Odile.

She takes another breath and slowly slides her arm under her.

A small flash catches Siffrin's eye.

On her chest is—

No.

No, no, no!

Siffrin tries to take in a deep breath.

Mirabelle pushes up and rolls to a crouch.

Ding ding!

SLAM.

...

Ha! Ha h hahahahha hahahah!

HAhahaa!

Hahahah!

This is what you get for being hopeful!

More of the same!

At least it's quicker than it could have been.

Isabeau grimaces again, teeth grinding on each other. He chokes back a sob the King might have heard were he not shaking viscera from his gauntlet.

But his smile is back. Even with tears in his eyes. Even with his body trembling.

He always does this.

Every time.

No matter how hurt he is or how scared.

As long as he can see them, as long as he can move, he gives them his full attention and smiles. He hides so much fear and pain behind his eyes, but thousands of loops have Siffrin seeing right through the mask.

They thought they were numb to the death by now, but of course, that one sliver of hope rips the wound wide open again and sprays it with the same chemicals burning through the King's skull.

"Ohhh............ ohhh............ Saviors......... That was the Housemaiden, was it not..........? Your healer............ I see now you were waiting for her to recover, were you not...........? Even though you so violently defied My Will, I will offer you a quick and merciful end if you speak up now........."

Go blind yourself, King.

Oh, wait!

Hahha!

We did that for you!

They almost don't want to bring attention to themself now; that would give him what he wants.

And yet...

They can't let Isabeau's smile fade. They can't let their last memory of him in this loop be as a pile of viscera and bones. His body still blocks the majority of the gore behind him.

Of what used to be their friends allies.

Stars. Why can't you even make one blinding sound!? Scream! Hit the floor! Throw your dagger!

The unsteady drip drip of Mirabelle and Odile's blood is the only sound in the room outside of their weak breathing. Bonnie continues to stand, trembling, in the corner of their vision. Even then, it's hard to miss the tears pouring down their face. Hard to miss them fighting every urge to sob and scream and curse the King and say sorry, sorry, sorry and beg the gruesome remains of Odile and Mirabelle to reform.

“Ohhhhh....... Ohhhhhhhhhh..... It does not matter in the end....... You will be frozen in time soon enough..... Child.............”

Bonnie flinches and gives the King the most piercing glare they can muster through the tears.

It twists something inside Siffrin. He still can't make a sound.

“If you care for your fellow Saviors........... You will grant them mercy and allow me to give them a quick end.......”

Their whole body shakes, and they seem to fight the urge to scream.

Stars. Stars!

Why now? He' always had enough energy to taunt him one last time.

Bonnie turns their gaze to Siffrin. Slowly, slowly, they begin to sneak toward him. Their hand carefully reaches into their bag.

No, no, no. Bonnie please!

Please just let me die! I can do it again!

Closer.

Closer.

Their eyes flash between Siffrin and the King. They can't stop blinking away the tears. They refuse to look at what remains of Odile and Mirabelle. Siffrin can see them wringing their hands on the bottle, fighting the urge to look.

Please. Don't look. Don't look.

Just make a sound, Siffrin!

One sound.

One move.

Massive tears spill forth from the King's eyes as he continually wipes at his face.

Bonnie squeezes their eyes shut and bites their lip, pausing for a moment.

"Ohhhh............... Child.......... please........... I would rather not have to reduce myself to blindly slamming my hands on this floor to finish the job.............."

They're on them, sinking to their knees and taking his head in their hands. They take great care to pop off the cork, cup his face, and hold the opening to his lips.

Squeezing his eye shut, he swallows the thick, sour liquid.

The warmth radiates out from their stomach to the tip of every limb. Their fingers twitch. Breath hitches. Everything begins to tingle as their body slowly, slowly, starts to stitch itself back together.

They—they think they can move again.

Bonnie tilts the bottle just a little higher, arm shaking even harder. Tears and snot cover almost every inch of their face. Siffrin can almost hear their teeth groaning from the strain of their jaw.

The tonic spills faster into their mouth, too fast to swallow.

It slips into his lungs.

He coughs.

The King's head snaps toward him.

Finally.

He raises his fist.

They smile at Bonnie—at Isabeau. With the hint of strength they regained, they shove Bonnie away.

Just allies.

SLAM!

[muunrabbit]

Me trying to figure out how to draw Creature Loop: I have done this to myself, but I'm still mad about it.

[prism-empurress]

Guess what? Even more Siffrins!

[astrangeavenue]

drew some totally normal sadnesses

blank bg and individuals below the cut

edit: i posted some of my thoughts that went into these designs! if youd like to read you can find it here

[circusballoon]

Creature Loop.. my beloved...

I decided I wanted to combine all drama themes I've used for Loop and smoosh them into one image/design and try to give it some horror RPG vibes

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Put them in the washing machine

[mothballsoupblr]

// BIG ISAT SPOILERS

umm what the fuck is that

its mal du loop!!!! hello u freaky little thang /aff

it has a mouth bc i think it would be funny if he stole that plus the pronouns.

alt version below the cut:3

it lost its drip,,,,,

honestly i like both versions equally,,, the chains were meant to form an outline kinda like siffrin’s cloak but the chainless version also looks nice,,,,, ultimately keeping the alt version as a treat for everyone who clicked read more<3333

also, its mal du loop and not loop du pays, bc home is gone. all that’s left is the sickness<//333

[frindoka]

when you want to shake someone around in your teeth angrily but you don’t have a mouth so sometimes you decide to just play mind games with them

[poorlydrawninstarsandtime]

the humble conkroch

[id in alt]

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Hey :)

Ford was just finishing up some of his sketches when the phone rang. He looked over at the clock and grimaced at the time.

Still an hour to go. Hopefully it was just a wrong number, and not anymore attempts at birthday well wishing. With a groan he pushed himself away from his desk, then left the study and went towards the living room, where the phone was siting on a dresser.

"Hello? Stanford Pines speaking?"

There was a rush of static, then the dull sound of the phone disconnecting, beeping away in his ear. Irritation flooded him, and he set the phone back down. He'd forgotten about his ghostly prank caller, but he really shouldn't have.

They always called on his birthday after all, and it was almost over. Ford shook his head and turned to head back to his study. He'd finish up his diagram, then head to bed before-

The phone rang again when he'd made it halfway down the hallway. Ford let out a huff, then pivoted and turned back to go get it. It couldn't be the prankster, as they'd just called, so who else was calling him so late at night?

He picked up the phone, cautious, then spoke into the receiver.

"Hello, Stanford Pines speaking, Can I-"

The phone disconnecting cut through his words, and he groaned. Another prank call. Unfortunate, but there was always the possibility that this was a different prankster than the one who normally called. Or that they were all different people.

He put the phone down and rubbed his temples. The sound the phone made when disconnecting always grated on his nerves, and it was starting to get late. It might be better to-

The phone started ringing, and Ford scowled before snatching it from the cradle.

"Hello? Who is this? If this is a prank, then-" It isn't very funny Is what Ford would have said, if the caller hadn't already hung up. Ford slammed the phone back down with a growl. This couldn't be his normal prankster, this just confirmed it. He had no idea who was calling him so late into the night, but the moment he figured it out he was going to-

The phone rang again, and he snatched it, irritation twisting into anger.

"Enough! If this is-" the phone disconnected, and he shouted as he slammed the phone back down, fuming. One phone call this late at night was already pushing it, four in quick succession was driving him up the wall.

The phone rang again, and he glared at it, letting it go to voicemail. When it rang again, a minute later, Ford pivoted and stomped back to his study, letting it go and sitting down to get back to work. Even as it rang again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

After it rang again, thirty minutes later, and Ford had gotten nowhere with his work, he shoved himself to his feet, grabbed a mostly empty notebook, and stomped back to the phone. At this rate they were either a very determined prankster with poor taste, or an anomaly trying to get on his nerves. Either way he wasn't going to let them win.

He ran a few tests over his ever ringing phone, crossing out anything spectral or magic as a suspect, then spent a few more missed calls glaring at it.

The main issue was that, without hearing who or what was on the other end, it'd be harder to determine if it was an anomaly. So he had to either make the caller speak, or keep them on the line long enough to run more tests.

The next time the phone rang, Ford snatched it, line prepared and ready to get to the bottom of this. A normal greeting hadn't been enough to stop it from hanging up, so he'd have to get creative.

"This is Filbrick-" The phone disconnected, and he slammed it down, crossing that off the list. So it didn't want to speak to his father, understandable. Less than a minute later it rang again, and he snatched it, already ready with his next line.

"Gravity Falls Museum, how can I help you?" he said, pitching his voice higher. There was a beat, a puff of air, then the sound of the phone disconnecting. He crossed it off, then wrote a note about how long the caller had stayed on the line.

"Gravity Falls Oddologist, Stanford Pines, speaking." disconnect.

"Gravity Falls dental-" disconnect

"Gravity Falls, pharmacy, how can I-" disconnect.

"Corduroy lumber, can I-" disconnect.

"What do you get from this?" a pause, static, then disconnect.

Ford tried more answers, irritation bleeding into his voice the longer this went on, until he slammed the phone down, threw the notebook onto the dresser, and stomped upstairs, ignoring the ringing behind him.

Perhaps he just needed to ignore it for longer, let whoever was on the other end give up first. The clock read two a.m., meaning he'd already wasted three hours of his life trying to outsmart some teen with awful humor or an anomaly that fed off his irritation.

With grim determination he brushed his teeth, eye twitching as the phone downstairs kept ringing. He stomped into his room, grabbed a pair of pajamas, then was so consumed with rage at the phones continual ringing that he stomped downstairs and grabbed the phone again.

"WHAT!" something crashed on the other side, before the phone disconnected. Ford growled and slammed it down onto the cradle. He threw his pajamas onto the couch, then stood over the phone, glaring at it and using every ounce of his self control not to rip it out of the wall and chuck it across the room when it rang again.

Trying to goad them into talking hadn't worked, it was time to try something new.

"So help me if you don't-" disconnect.

Ford yelled, then grabbed his hair and started pacing around the room, phone ringing again a minute or so later. He shot a glare at it, then stomped back after it had gone to voice mail. As long as it was filling his house with noise he couldn't focus and couldn't sleep, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of winning.

The next time it rang he snatched it again, glaring at his notebook.

"I'm going to hunt you for sport." he growled into the receiver. Ford waited a moment to see if they'd hang up, then grinned and-

disconnect.

"Count you're blessings, because I'm about to-" disconnect.

"Are you ready for the pain I'm about to-" disconnect

"So help me I will-" disconnect.

More threats. More insults. Some pleading got the line to last longer, but not by much, until finally-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH" it disconnected at some point, but Ford was too busy screaming to write down when.

He slammed the phone down again, the looked at the cord intently. It'd be so easy to cut it, or take the phone out of the cradle so nothing could connect, or rip the entire thing from the wall.

But that was defeat, and the slim chance that someone actually important would try calling him before he could get it fixed haunted him. Plus Fiddleford was supposed to arrive early... today, at some point, so they could get back to work.

Ford dragged his eyes to the nearest clock. It was already four a.m., any plans of sleeping at this point were useless. Fiddleford would be arriving in an hour or two, and Ford hadn't been able to finish up from the night before.

And the phone. Kept. Ringing.

How long were they planning on doing this for? All day? They'd already wasted his night with their antics, at this point he was ready to sleep on the lawn if it meant he'd get some kind of silence.

Ford groaned, then threw himself to the couch, crushing his pajamas and closing his eyes. He rubbed his temples, a headache pounding away with each ring, then shoved himself back up and stomped to the kitchen.

A quick glass of water and a sandwich later he was feeling slightly refreshed and ready to try again. Despite the continuous ringing he'd managed to center himself, and realized there was one thing he hadn't tried to get the caller to stay on the line.

Asking.

He'd simply ask them to stay, nice and calm, without any of the anger that seemed to scare them off faster. Wiping his hands on his coat, he stood next to the phone and grabbed it the moment it started to ring.

"Don't hang up," He said, voice low and barely hiding his rage, "Or I'll hunt you down and carve out your organs"

Well, that wasn't calm or nice, but he could try again the next time they-

next time they-

they didn't disconnect.

Triumph flashed through him, and he muttered to himself as he wrote the words down on the half destroyed notebook, before focusing back on the sound of the callers heavy breathing.

"That finally got you, huh? Listen here, I don't know who you are, but-"

Disconnect.

Ford slammed the phone down, then watched it like a hawk, one hand still gripping his pen and the other hovering, ready to pounce.

He didn't try to hide his anger this time when he picked it up and repeated his threat to hunt them down and carve their organs out. Just like before, the caller stayed on the line, confirming... something.

"I'll figure it out later," he muttered, before loudly saying "Ok, so that worked, now, who is this? Because this is-"

Disconnect.

That was... fine. The first phrase had worked to keep them on, so he just had to work his way out from there. No problem.

The clock was reaching five a.m. he just had to figure this out.

The phone rang again, and Ford snatched it, once again not bothering to hide his irritation as he told them not to hang up or he'd steal their organs. Just like the last two times, the caller stayed on the line, and Ford thought carefully before continuing.

They'd hung up when he'd asked who they were, so he'd do the opposite.

"I know exactly who you are." Ford said, puffing his chest out and pushing false confidence into the words.

No disconnect. A grin threatened to split his face in half. Before he could try to probe into the callers identity, someone coughed next to him, and he whipped around to see Fiddleford, bright eyed with one eyebrow raised.

"Stanford, what are you doing?" he asked, eyeing the torn notebook and the pajamas sitting crumpled on the couch.

"Trying to figure out the identity of a prank caller," Ford said, turning back to the phone, "now if you'll excuse me, I-"

Disconnect.

Ford groaned, then rubbed his temples, "They've been calling nonstop for the last... fiveish? hours now. Consistently. That's the longest I've been able to keep them on."

The phone rang again, and he glared at it, tired and done with the whole experience.

"Why don't you try calling them?" Fiddleford asked, tossing his bag onto the couch, "Just gotta-"

Fiddleford picked up the phone when it stopped ringing and pressed a few buttons. Ford took the phone as it started ringing, pressing it to his ear and looking upon Fiddleford like the savior he was.

Then he scowled and pulled the phone away when the ringing cut out, replaced with an awful statiky, growling noise. Both men stared at it as it let out more strange noises, before Ford placed it back down. A moment later it rang, and they looked at each other.

"Anomaly" "Its an anomaly."

"That or somethings gotten into the phone again," Fiddleford muttered, twenty minutes later, phone ringing continuously as he fiddled with the wiring and hooked something up to it, "There, try again."

Whatever was causing the interference, it was nothing under the combined might of Fiddlefords mechanical genius and Fords magical scientific research, meaning the next time the phone stopped ringing he was ready. He grabbed it from the cradle and smashed the buttons.

It rang three times, but instead of a horrid growling and burbly sound, a clear and vaguely familiar voice answered with a confused "Hello?"

"HA!" Ford shouted, glee filling him, "It worked! Didn't think I'd call you first, did you!"

"No? I- what's happening here?" The voice on the other end was rough, confused, and tickled the back of Fords mind, but he shoved it aside, focusing on the victory of finally getting the person on the other end to speak.

"Whats happening is I finally got you this time!" Ford yelled into the phone, "Thought you'd get away without consequence, didn't you? That you could call non-stop for six hours straight and not face any kind of repercussions for depriving me of my sleep and ruining my night? Well listen here-"

"Wait, hold up," the man, and it was a man, interrupted, "You called me. I haven't called anyone yet. I just got here."

Ford stood there, suddenly hit with the realization that he might have yelled at a totally innocent stranger. He hung up before the man could question him further, then waved Fiddleford over so his friend could input the numbers that made the phone redial the previous caller.

It rang again, and a moment later the same voice answered with a still confused "Hello?"

"So it wasn't the wrong number." Ford growled, eye twitching, "I don't know.." Ford paused, hit suddenly with why the mans voice sounded so familiar, "Wait a second. Stanley?"

Disconnect.

That only confirmed it.

Rage burst through him as he slammed the phone down and picked it up again. What did his brother think he was doing, calling for- a quick look at the clock showed it was already past five. That meant it'd been going on for at least six hours.

He was going to tear into his knucklehead of a twin if it meant he'd have to call this number six hours straight until Stan picked up again.

The phone rang three times, and Stan picked up with a confused "Hello?" like Ford hadn't just called less than a minute ago and called him out on his actions.

"Stanley!" Ford yelled, ignoring the look FIddleford shot him, "What- No. I don't care about the reason. Stop calling me like this! I'm not sure what made you think calling me over and over would do anything but infuriate me, but it stops now!"

"What," Stan asked, confused and slightly panicked, "What are you talking about, I just got here? How did you know it was me?"

Fords fury was barely cooled by his confusion. Was this some kind of joke? Did Stan really think he could play this off as a 'whoops wrong number' prank? After six hours of non-stop calls?

He really was going to hunt him down and carve out his organs. Then shove them down his throat.

"What?" Ford ground out, "What are you talking about. You didn't just get here, we just talked, less than a minute ago."

"No we didn't?" Stan said, voice full of confusion, "This is the first- uh. I mean. Happy Birthday? Moses this got away from me. What even is this."

"… Happy Birthday?" Ford hissed, irritation making him tap the dresser and hunch over the phone "Stanley, our birthday ended five hours ago. Its June sixteenth now. That happens when you spend six hours calling someone over and over."

"No, that can't be right," Stan muttered, then went silent. Ford waited for whatever nonsense reason Stan was going to give that made him think it was still five hours ago, when nowhere on the planet was it their birthday anymore, before Stan continued, voice shaky and confused.

"No, its still the fifteenth," Stan said, and the fury boiling away in Ford chilled at his tone "I- I just got here? You called me before i could- uh. Call someone else. Not you."

Dread filled Ford. They'd just talked, and Stan had called nonstop for the last six hours. There was no way he wouldn't have noticed being there for that long, dialing over and over again.

Unless something was making it so he couldn't.

"FIddleford," he said, pulling away to look at where his friend was peering over his shoulder, "Go to my study and get the gray book with the pink lettering, the one you said was one shade away from being 'of the devil' or whatever you said."

Fiddleford nodded, then dashed away. Ford turned his attention back to the phone, listening to Stan's heavy breathing.

"Stanley," He said, dragging his notebook closer and rapidly moving to an mostly intact page, "How long have you been standing there."

"Uh.. I don't know," came Stan's still confused voice. "less than-"

Suddenly Stan's voice cut off, and another sound replaced it. Not the sound of the phone disconnecting, and not the gurgling sound from earlier. It was a new sound, one that made the dread in the pit of Fords stomach shoot to his chest and grip his heart.

Whispers. Breathing. Shadows danced on the edge of his vision, as whatever was on the other end of the phone chittered and murmured away, sending a chill down his spine.

"Stanley?" he whispered, then flinched as the thing on the other end got louder.

"Stanley?" he said again, louder. He gripped the phone hard, other hand gripping the pen so hard his knuckles turned white. If he strained, if he pushed, he could hear Stan's distant voice, calling out in confusion and drowned out by whatever was there with him.

"STANLEY!" Ford yelled, lurching to look at Fiddleford in a panic. His friend started back at him, wide eyed and confused from where he'd burst back into the room, book clutched to his chest. Ford screamed Stan's name, over and over again. He thought he could hear his brother, could hear him say something, if he just-

Disconnected.

Ford slammed the phone down, then quickly picked it up and redialed. He marked down the amount of times it rang, then realized with a jolt it was the same amount as the first two times he called.

Three.

And then Stan's voice, just as confused as it had been the previous times "Hello?"

"Stanley!" Ford slumped in relief, then refocused. He had a limited amount before the phone disconnected, regardless if Stan hung up, "Stanley listen, I need to know, how long have you been standing there?"

"Uh.." came Stan's voice, confused and not at all hurried, "I don't know, a minute? I just got here? How did-"

"OK, don't hang up! I need you to promise me you won't hang up!" Ford interrupted, rushing to get his words out. Every hang up potentially lessened the amount of time Stan had.

It had already been six hours, there was no telling how long they had left before whatever was there-

"Alright?" Stan said, jerking him out of his spiraling thoughts, "I promise? Whats-"

"Good, good. Now where are you."

There wasn't a lot of time, but if it was nearby then Fiddleford could-

"New Mexico. Why does-"

Ford cursed, crumbling the page with his attempted note to Fiddleford as his friend crowded around him. Ford snatched the book out of his hands, then rapidly started flipping through the pages, dismissing each creature one after the other as his thoughts scattered.

"Too far, that's too far. And I've just been- ARGH! Stanley! Stanley, I need you to tell me whats around you, what do you see."

If he could get a description, he might be able to narrow down the anomaly further. He already had a list of potential entities that it could be, and he didn't like any of its members.

All of them were in this book, and none of them tended to leave whoever encountered them intact.

"Nothing? Its the middle of the night, and kinda overcast? I can barely see my car."

Ford froze, then stared at Fiddlefords face in horror. He'd studied hundreds of creatures in his time here, and there were only a few that matched what was happening. A time loop, erasing or suppressing memories, alone, encroaching darkness.

Something eldritch and powerful, with no name a human could pronounce, preying on a lone human, having him get yelled at for six hours from repeated phone calls to a estranged relative. Regardless of which one it was, they'd all be doing the same thing in this scenario.

It was eating his brother.

"Stanley listen to me," Ford said, gesturing at Fiddleford to grab some of his nearby magical tomes, "I need you to run. Doesn't matter where, just pick a direction and go. This is important!"

If he could get out that way, then-

"Run? Why? Whats-"

"RUN!" Ford screamed, and he held his breath as he heard the phone drop and the sound of Stan's feet hitting the ground, growing distant and then-

Whispers. Filling the line and making him shudder. He didn't bother trying to listen, instead grabbing the tomes Fiddleford brought and flipping through them. He had a spell here from years ago, something he hadn't tested but-

The phone disconnected, and Ford slammed it down and quickly redialed. It rang three times, and Ford quickly whispered for Fiddleford to start making a clear space in the living room. He needed a large space to draw the circle, and there was no time to do it anywhere else.

"Hello?" Stan's voice was just as confused as ever, the same tone and cadence.

It sent a jolt of relief down Fords spine, even as he tensed and yelled, "Stanley! Stanley don't hang up! I'm- I'm going to figure this out, alright! Tell me what you see!"

There was no telling how much time they had before it became too late to do anything, and he wasn't close enough to pull Stan out himself, so he needed- he had to know-

"Ford?" Stan asked, and Ford's heart twisted at the terror bleeding through, and his brothers quick gasps, "Ford, whats- how did you know-"

"Focus!" Ford snapped, "What do you see?!"\

The other end went silent, except for Stan's heavy breathing. Ford gave Fiddleford a thumbs up when his friend gestured to he cleared living room, then slide over a list of ingredients to grab from his lab. Fiddleford scurried off, and Ford turned his attention back to the phone, and Stan's rapid breathing.

"Nothing." Stan whispered, and Ford went cold, "There- there's nothing here. Why's it so dark? And- and when did it get so hot?"

They were running out of time.

"Stanley listen," Ford said, mind racing as Fiddleford ran around behind him, dumping supplies on the floor before dashing out to grab more, "You've been eaten by an entity that feeds on high concentrations of negative energy. Its stuck you in a loop, and its too late to try and escape physically. I'm going to try and- I'm going to try something, just- just hang on, and- and you'll be OK."

He would be OK.

Ford dropped the phone the moment Stan choked out a confirmation, running to the pile of things Fiddleford had brought over and bringing the tome with him.

"We don't have a lot of time," Ford said, pulling out a jar of red crushed berries and star dust, "Stan's too far to reach by any normal means, and I wasted too much time- It doen't matter. Here."

Ford dumped the dust into the jar, shut the lid, then shock it before handing it back to Fiddleford and pointing at the circle in the book.

"Draw this as large as you can," Ford said, leaning down to grab his bag of candles. He'd made them himself, a year or two ago, and they were carved with several powerful runes and made of wax from the magical bees who lived in the Enchanted woods. Each one was a soft pink and sparkled in the light of the living room. Ford grapped a phonix claw to light them, then hurried behind Fiddleford as he used a enchanted brush to make a perfect circle.

Ford used the phoenix claw to prick his finger and light each candle, setting seven of them down equidistant from each other. When that was done he told Fiddleford to make another, smaller circle, and put down three more candles around that one.

Just as he finished placing the last one, the phone rang, and he jumped, whirling around to see-

The phone. Still off its cradle and ringing away regardless. Something grey was dripping out of the holes in the receiver, oozing onto the floor and making a small puddle. Ford tore his eyes away, focusing on the ritual they'd be doing instead.

"Stanford," Fiddleford asked, as the two of them began rapidly writing around the edges of the circle, "Stanford, whats- if this doesn't work-"

"It'll work," Ford snarled, flinching as the phone stopped ringing, "it has to work. I'm- Stanley will-will..."

Ford froze in the silence, then whipped around to stare at the phone.

It wasn't ringing.

Ford burst into action, quickly finishing the rest of the circle, then yelling at Fiddleford to place certain objects between candles. Feathers of mythical beasts, rare crystals, small figures full of power. Anything that could boost the spell past what it was intended to do.

Anything that would drag Stan here.

When the last rune was drawn and the last object placed Ford shot to his feet and jumped into the smaller circle. The spell should use his blood as a focus, and him being here should prevent it from locking onto him. Ford held the book open in front of him, took a deep breath, then stared into Fiddlefords wide eyes.

"You might want to hold onto something," he warned him, before locking his eyes on the center of the circle and reading the spell out at the top of his lungs.

The air around them stilled, then burst into a whirlwind around the circle. The candle's flames roared, each changing into a different color and adding a fiery rainbow that flickered and scorched the ceiling. The objects arrayed around it started shaking, then exploded, one by one, each adding more colors, more texture, until there was a giant, glowing portal on the ceiling, opened up into a glistening void full of light, blinding and pitch black, a space between spaces.

He might have overdone it. Ah well.

If it saved Stanley, then it was worth every destroyed, priceless artifact.

Conituing his chant, Ford raised his hand, and a astral hand shot forwards into the vortex. He could feel the stars and particles of the void rubbing against his arm, but he pushed through, focusing on the object this spell was made to summon.

Stanley.

He felt something touch his hand and he curled his fingers and pulled.

Something was in his hand, and he could feel the spell pulling it through the vortex. His chanting got louder, grin splitting his face when-

It stopped. Something was pulling back, was trying to yank Stanly out of the spells grip, back to whatever pocket dimension it had stolen his brother away to. Fords stuttered, and he felt the spell weaken with it.

Then he could feel Stan reaching out, grabbing onto the spell, tightening its hold on him.

Reaching out to Ford.

With renewed energy, Ford started changing louder, pulling his arm down and back, more and more until-

Something slammed out of the vortex, and the entire thing imploded with a pop, whizz, and a shower of glittering confetti that disappeared before it reached the floor. Ford blinked a few times to readjust his eyes to the dimmer light, then zeroed in on the man groaning on the floor in front of him.

"Stanley!" Ford shouted, tossing the book aside and rushing over to his brother's fallen form. A grin stretched across his face as Stan blinked up at him, looking terrible and confused, but alive.

He was alive.

"Ford?" Stan muttered, voice wheezy and strained, "What- what happened?"

"Stanley." Ford said, instead of answering. Answers could wait, right now he crashed to the floor and pulled his brother into his arms, listened to his soft breaths, felt the hand patting him on the back, gripped him tightly and felt his weight in Fords arms.

Alive.

"Stanford, let go of your brother," Fiddleford said from behind them, "We need to take a look at him, and who knows what all… that. Is."

"Right, right, of course." Ford said, smile still stuck on his face as he pulled away and looked at Stan's face. Then down at his shirt, which was covered in a strange gray substance. He blinked, then realized Stan was covered in it, making his skin and clothes look washed out and near colorless.

"Interesting," Ford muttered, sticking a hand in his pocket to fish out his emergency sample collecting vials. The area the goo was touching on his chest was starting to tingle, and he scooped some up and sealed it for later study.

Then he used the other vial to get a sample from Stan's face, for comparison. There was no telling how whatever it was reacted to living tissue after all.

"Hey," Stan grumbled, waving a hand at him with a scowl, "stop that. What is this, what- didn't I- huh?"

Ford stood up and started shedding his contaminated layers and shoving them into a bag Fiddleford had brought in, while his friend started tending to Stan's legs. The pants and his shoes were shredded to pieces, and small scratches ran up and down his legs, blood mixing with the grey goo and losing its color (he'd have to run tests later, make sure there weren't any negative side effects). The bottoms of Stan's feet were red and raw, and his chest tightened when he realized it had already started digesting Stan when they'd ripped his brother out of its clutches.

"Didn't I call you?" Stan muttered, pulling Ford out of his fury, "Its our birthday."

"No, it isn't." Ford said, shoving his shirt into the bag. The tingling stopped once it was off, so hopefully Stan would recover quickly once they cleaned him up, "Our birthday ended five hours ago."

Stan blinked at him, and his heart twisted at the confused, lost expression on his face. He looked as terrible as Ford felt, deep bags under his eyes and skin far paler than it should be (though it was hard to see how pale under the gray goo).

"Hot Belgian Waffles," Stan whispered, just as Ford finished taking off his clothes and bagging them up for later decontamination, along with the phone (which he finally, finally, pulled off the wall) "Something tried to eat me."

"Ah, but it didn't!" Ford said, giddy and full of vindication at the thought of the hopefully starving entity , "Our DNA is close enough to use as a focus for a summoning spell, and we managed to pull you straight out of its pocket dimensional stomach! Its probably furious!"

Ford threw the bag into his lab, then went over to the kitchen to fill a tub with bubbly water. He moved back to the living room to grab his discarded pajamas to see Stan staring blankly at Fiddleford while his friend cut the legs off his pants.

"My car." Stan said, when Ford had finished getting dressed and went back to retrieve the tub, get his gloves, and grab another bag "Its still in there."

"No, I don't think so!" Ford called out, "The small area you found yourself was most likely a constructed replica of the area. Creatures like that don't have the ability to pull full sections of our dimension away. More than likely your car is right where you left it."

He'd have to strengthen the wards around the house to make sure it wouldn't try to snatch Stan again, at least until they determined which entity, specifically, had tried to eat him and made sure it wasn't the kind to lock onto a specific prey. Until then they couldn't leave Stan by himself, or let him wander too far away from the house.

Stan muttered something as Ford sat down next to him, setting the bag down close to Fiddleford so they could gather all the contaminated materials for later disposal or cleaning. Ford left Fiddleford to take care of Stan's legs, instead focusing on getting the goo off his face as quickly as possible.

Stan's eyes, now that he was closer, were dilated, and his breathing was soft and lacked the panic he'd heard over the phone. Ford grimaced, and his hands itched to write everything down, to catalogue his brothers symptoms.

Later.

For now Ford grabbed a wet washcloth and wiped some of the goo off of Stan's cheek. His twin flinched at the touch, then slowly turned to look at him in confusion.

"Sorry Stanley," Ford said softly, going back to wiping Stan's face, "But we need to get this off as quickly as possible. I don't know if its digestive fluids, a numbing agent, or something to amplify your negative mood. Best to be cautious and study it later."

Stan nodded slowly, then stared off into the distance as Ford continued to wipe his face. His skin was a concerning shade underneath, pale and clammy, and Ford scowled as he wiped more and more away. He was just about to grab Stan's face and try to clear out his eyes, when Stan let out a deep breath, making him pause.

"Happy Birthday," he muttered, then closed his eyes and flopped backwards. He didn't react when his skull cracked on the floor, just laid there, breathing heavily.

"Stanley?" Ford shouted, scooching closer and patting his brother's face, "Stanley, are you alright? Are you-"

Stan grumbled, then let out another deep breath. A moment later he started wheezing softly, a pale imitation of his normal snores, and his brow furrowed.

Ford frowned at him, but Fiddleford stopped him before he could try slapping Stan back awake.

"Let him rest Stanford," His friend said softly, and Ford turned to see Stan's legs free of pants below his thighs and the scraps of what remained of his shoes gone, "he almost got eaten. Poor feller's probably exhausted out of his mind."

Ford humphed, but didn't otherwise object. Stan wasn't in immediate danger, he could let him rest his eyes for as long as it took them to get most of the goo off. He'd need to get up so they could drag him into the decontamination shower in the lab, get a quick check up, and run a few cognitive tests, but after that Ford would make sure Stan slept somewhere nearby.

Like in his arms, where no entity could pry him loose and try to eat him again.

Again.

Ford stared down at Stan's dozing, grey tinted form.

Six hours.

Maybe seven.

Stuck in a pocket dimension that doubled as the stomach for a creature that existed just outside their plane of existence.

Calling Ford, over and over and over again, forgetting the moment the call ended.

Ford had yelled at him so many times. Had screamed and threatened him and- and-

And if he'd been a lesser man, hand cut the line or destroyed the phone, then he'd never know- would never have-

Ford went back to cleaning Stan's face, washing away any trace of the entity and revealing his brother's pale, sickly skin underneath.

Never again. He wouldn't let Stan out of his sight until he knew he was safe, then he was wrapping him in every ward and protective charm he knew.

Maybe tattoo some as well. Anything it took, to keep him safe.

Six hours.

Next time (there'd never be a next time) he'd make sure Stan said something right away.

Ford added a mental note to yell at Stan later for calling and not saying a word, then got back to work, watching Stan breath, listening to him snore, feeling his pulse beat, slow and steady.

Alive.

Stanley was alive.

[starly-amazing]

A Star From the Multiverse - Ch 9 is OUT!

Cover art by @wyvern-witch as a donation commission for Palestine. Commission them here!

Fic summary: After FINALLY beating the King after thousands of tries, Siffrin is STILL sent back to Dormont. They. Just. Can't. Do. It. Anymore. They drag themself through the day and to the Favor Tree in the dead of night, begging, wishing for help...and they get it in the form of a strange creature with talons and feathers and fangs.

Memory of Stars Chapter summary: Loop lets their walls down just a bit and takes Siffrin stargazing. Nothing goes wrong in any way shape or form!

Rating: Mature | Graphic depictions of violence & all the canon-typical warnings.

[Read on Ao3]

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"Stargaze!??!" Siffrin nearly throws himself off the branch to lean closer. "You know about the stars!?"

"I—wh—yes? Who doesn't? They're right up there?"

"Nobody does! Everyone just thinks they're boring dots in the sky whenever I try to tell them about it they think I'm lying I've forgotten so much too just like I forget everything I know I used to know more but I lost it all too when the... when the... the..."

"..."

"...Stardust?"

"Wha..? What were we talking about?" They blink a few times.

"...the stars? You—"

"Stars!? You know about stars!?" His heart skips a beat.

"I—wh—yes? I just sai—" They stare at him for a moment. "Never mind. Yes, I do know about stars. I was an astronom—" Their jaws snap shut. They lower their gaze and mumble to themself for a long moment, glancing between their hands while flexing their fingers. "Hmm... I suppose it's fine to share this." They shrug and sigh. "Yes, I was an astronomer, so it was kind of my job to know about stars."

"Your job... your job?" There’s no way. There's no way! "So you know a lot about them!?"

Loop tilts their head, ears flattened. "I'd say my knowledge is above average, yes."

His breath skips. "Please tell me please please I need to know please! Nobody cares anymore I'm not lying I'm not making this up Odile told me to stop lying to Bonnie when I tried telling them but I wasn't and I know they're important but why can't I remember them!?"

He pauses, panting, shaking.

Loop's whole body is tense as they stare. They grip their branch with both hands.

"Please," they whine.

Loop inhales deeply. "Okay."

"Okay!?" His breath catches in his throat.

Loop throws their bubbly persona back on. "Sure, stardust! I suppose it's fine if I talk about this. It's just general information, after all, and I care about you so much, my precious little cinnamon roll," they wink, "I can probably fudge the rules just a little bit more. So! What would you like to know?"

"Everything!!!"

They flinch. "That's gonna take a while!" They gaze up into the canopy at the thousands of little pinpricks of light that filter through. "How about you come back when it's dark and we can talk then? I need some time to er... create my syllabus for our little impromptu lesson, anyway~!"

"But I want—no it's okay, that's fine." It's fine! A syllabus is good! They can prepare!

"You'll be back in no time," they hum. "Go have some fun with your friends and get some delicious din din!"

"Okay, see you soon. Loop."

He leaves, heart thundering in his chest.

>>>

The sun has just barely fallen below the horizon when Siffrin leaves the Clocktower. His allies all seemed disappointed they couldn't meet his mysterious 'friend', but they let them go without too much of a fuss.

When they arrive, he doesn't see Loop in their usual spot and nearly jumps out of his skin when they pop their head out of the bushes right beside him.

"Blinding stars, Loop, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Whoopsies! I guess that wouldn't be too bad, though, since you'd just loop anyway." They retreat back into the undergrowth and motion Siffrin to follow them with their tail waving above it all.

He pushes in after them and follows closely, dodging recoiling branches with some effort. Loop seems to navigate with much more ease, other than the occasional snag on their wings.

They stumble with a small yelp and shake their front paw. Ok, maybe not much more ease.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine!" They shake their paw. "Just a scratch, don't worry your pretty little head about it~!"

They push on before Siffrin can respond, and he can't help but notice they now have a small limp.

"How far are we going?"

"Not far," they say, pausing with no weight on their hand. "There's a little hill nearby that has a clear view and can't be seen from town."

As if on cue, the trees thin and open up to a grassy field somewhat similar to the one he wakes up in at the start of every loop. The grass is shorter, fresher, and less prickly-looking than what he's used to.

Loop peeks out from the treeline, sniffing the air and vibrating the fluffy feathers on their head. They take a step forward, seemingly satisfied, and shake their head until the feathers are tucked neatly away.

Together, they pad out to the top of the small hill and sit down.

It's still light out and there aren't many stars to see yet. Siffrin eyes Loop messing with their paw, picking out bits of debris from it.

“Uhh, Loop?”

They flinch and cover their hand. “Yes, stardust?”

Voice low, they ask, "Do you want me to heal that?" They lean over to get a better look.

"You—you can do that?" They curl their talons and pull them toward their chest.

They nod. "Learned it in the loops."

They squint at him and turn away. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" Siffrin tilts his head. "It's no problem, really."

Loop's fingers twitch. They stare at their hand for a moment. Then, with a long, drawn-out sigh, they speak. "Fiiiine if you insist, stardust then I guess I can let you heal me."

Siffrin's lips twitch upward, but they hide it with a cough. He holds out his hand, and with some hesitation, Loop reaches out and places their hand in it.

They both flinch. Loop looks away, cheek feathers puffed.

It's warm. Rough. An array of what look like scars break up the even pattern of scutes that line their leg.

Taking it gently in both hands, they turn it over. The palm is covered in a thick pad, similar to a cat's but not quite as pronounced. It's rough and callused from walking on bare ground; a few still look somewhat raw and fresh, even.

There's something strange about the wound. The trickle of blood that leaks out seems...off. Like the shade is a little to the left, but in the dying light, it's hard to get a better look. Not that Loop would appreciate him scrutinizing their hand for longer than necessary, anyway.

As if they heard him, Loop huffs and flexes their claws. "Having fun ogling my toesie woesies, stardust?"

"Ah! Uh, sorry!" They sputter. Using the back of his glove, he gently wipes away the remaining dirt and debris before breathing a bit of healing Craft into the sore. Loop's hand twitches as the wound stitches itself back together with an uneven scar.

"Huh." They flex their digits. "That feels different."

"Different? Does it still hurt?"

"Huh? Oh! No. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I meant different as in—never mind. Thank you, I owe you my life, am forever in your debt, et cetera et cetera."

"Don't mention it," he snorts.

Something nags at the back of his mind. He glances at Loop's other paw.

They have to ask.

"Hey, Loop, can I see your other hand?"

They gasp and put their healed paw to their chest. "My, my, can't get enough of me? If you wanted to hold hands, you don't have to be so secretive."

Siffrin huffs. "So is that a yes or a no?"

Loop pauses. "Fine, if you must." With a sigh and dramatic flourish, they extend their other hand out, folding the freshly-healed one under their chest.

Siffrin squints and turns it over, only to see a similar sight of calluses and old blisters. He heals them, too, watching them harden into something sturdier.

They look at Loop. They're looking away, scar facing him.

"Loop?"

"Thank you, stardust," they pull their hand away and fold it under them. "It's getting pretty dark out now. Maybe we should do what we actually came here to do!" They point their head toward the heavens.

Siffrin stares at them for a moment longer before following their gaze up into the night sky. A little bit of daylight hangs at the horizon, but the stars are rapidly blinking into view as it fades.

A cold, twisting sense of longing churns in his chest as they stare at the sky. He knew. He knew. They knew so much more about it, but it's behind that same wall that shrouds their memories of home. The wall that prickles and cuts into him if he tries too hard to remember. The wall he forgot that he even forgot until the loops. The wall that teases him with morsels when he's not looking, only to take them away forever if he tries to focus.

...Will this hurt?

Loop shifts their body until all their limbs are folded under them. They curl their tail around and shift themself until they look like a giant winged cat loafing in a sunbeam. Siffrin shifts around as well until he finds a soft patch of grass with no rocks poking at him.

Loop hums. "Well, I suppose we can begin by you telling me what you know already. I'd hate to insult your knowledge by assuming you don't know the most basic things, but also you might not know the most basic things, so..."

"Oh," they murmur, grabbing a piece of grass and rolling it in their fingers. "Well, I know stuff like, the sun is a star and stars are all really big balls of fire and some stars are actually planets and people make pictures called constellations and used to navigate by them and telescopes, orreries, star charts... and uh..." He points to a brighter light. "That's the planet Venus, and uhm..." he keeps looking, thinking. The prickling fog already starts digging into the corner of his mind, so he closes his eye and shakes his head.

"That's all I remember."

Loop hums. "Okay, so we're definitely starting from the basics."

He grumbles. "I know I knew more than that. I could read star charts, I know it. I could use telescopes and orreries and whatever else there is."

"Well, maybe this will jog your memory some."

"I wish." They pull up a clump of grass.

Loop watches them rip it up and toss it before clearing their throat. "Anyway, you're right that not every light in the sky is a star. Some are planets, or comets, or moons, and some are entire galaxies that are so far away they're nothing more than a tiny dot to our eyes."

"Galaxies?" That one doesn’t sound familiar.

"Collections of hundreds of billions of stars and planets and other celestial bodies." They gesture at the thick band of stars that arcs across the sky. "We're in the Milky Way, which is a spiral galaxy and—oh, I wish I brought a pencil and paper. Ahh, well, not like I can draw to save my life anyway."

Siffrin can already feel his heart thundering in his chest. He leans closer to loop with stars in his eyes.

"I think..." he pauses and squeezes his eye shut. "That sounds familiar. Please keep going!"

Loop snorts and lets their expression relax. "Okay, well..."

Siffrin is enraptured by the tales Loop weaves of the sky above them. Tales of stars and planets and black holes and quasars, nebulae, dark matter, and everything else. He can't move, he can barely breathe as he soaks in every possible little detail that comes out of Loop's mouth. Some of it tickles the hidden part of his mind, behind the thorny wall, overwriting what was lost and keeping it fresh and close to him. Some of it is all too new; it's as if he's a small child again, sitting around a bonfire with their friends as their... their...

...

He blinks, shakes his head, and has to ask Loop to repeat a whole chunk of what they just said.

Loop looks… so different when talking. Their voice is lighter, smoother, less guarded and calculated, and they frequently have to pause for a breath after speaking for too long without stopping. It makes Siffrin feel winded just watching them. They can't help but smile—not just at getting back such an important part of him he thought was lost forever, but seeing a fresh, new side of Loop. Seeing them talk a mile a minute, waving their hands around, and looking up to the sky with such wonder just fills him with a sense of peace.

It won't last.

He knows that. It digs at the back of his mind. But just for that time, he manages to shove it down.

After talking for a while, Loop pauses and stretches out. They flap their wings a few times and reach out as far as they can with their front legs, spreading their toes out far. They let their wings fall more relaxed to their sides and rest their limbs in the grass in front of them.

Siffrin follows suit, not realizing how stiff he's grown from sitting unmoving in the dirt for however long they've been there.

Loop stretches again, roll to their side and—

"Oof!" Siffrin grunts as their head lands right in their lap. He flinches and freezes. "Loop!?"

"Wow, you are really bony," they huff. They shift around a bit until their good eye is pointed upward and the top of their head is pressed to his gut. Siffrin holds their arms stiffly away from them the entire time. He can't move.

"Ah," Their expression stiffens when they catch sight of his face. "Was that too much?" They keep their eye locked onto him.

"N-no, it was just sudden!" And warm! And surprisingly light. "U-um." He slowly places a hand on their cheek, feeling just a bit of squish as he presses down on their feathers. Loop makes a small noise but doesn't say a word. They look away. "Why?"

"You look like you needed it," they shrug. "Consider this some good ol' rukemi touch therapy."

"Touch therapy?"

"Well, I’m already helping you with the loops and the stars, so I thought I might help with that as well."

"Thanks???" They're definitely touch-starved, but wow!

"You're quite welcome~! Just keep your hands off my plumes."

"Your... plumes?"

"The long feathers on my head. They're sensitive."

"O-okay."

They're so soft. He wants to... to...

He swallows hard. "So I can... I can p—I can p-p-p..."

"Yes, yes you may pet me if you want, I guueeesssss," they huff. "So demanding~!"

"You're the one—agh—never mind." He can guess what kind of game Loop's playing.

Slowly, carefully, they sink their fingers into Loop's feathers until they touch skin. They both flinch.

So warm. Warmer than a human, it seems, though what would they know about touching another human?

He curls his fingers slowly. He wants to take his gloves off and feel just how soft they are, but that seems like too much! They're surprised he hasn't combusted from this level of touch; if he held Mirabelle's head like that or, stars, Isabeau held them like that, he'd loop on contact. With Loop, it's different. Not quite as overwhelming as he'd expect. Like petting a giant chicken.

He starts scratching a little more and cautiously moves his hand around their face, down their jaw, along their neck. Loop closes their eye and sighs, letting their legs relax and slide out a bit more. They flex one paw and relax, flex and relax.

Siffrin works his way up their head until he reaches their ear, only to find out it's not really an ear at all, just a collection of feathers in the shape of one. They slide their fingers around it until they feel a gap in front of them. He brushes his thumb across it, and out of nowhere, Loop yawns wide, flashing their sharp teeth before shaking their head and pulling back.

"Excuse me! Don't go shoving your fingers into my ear," they glare, folding their feathers down.

"S-sorry!" He pulls his hand away. "Um... so... your ear is just..."

"Yes, it's just a hole in my head."

"Okay." Weird.

"What? Disappointed?"

"No! Just uh... I don't know." What is Loop, really?

The rukemi snorts and rolls their head in his lap. "Oh, stardust, you are too much sometimes."

He frowns. "What'd I doooo?"

They glance at him and snort. "Tee hee~!"

Loop's definitely too much, sometimes too.

"I know I'm too much, aren't I~! That's what makes me so great~!"

Siffrin sighs and shakes their head, smiling lightly.

"Also, take your hat off. I can't see the stars."

"O-oh." He touches the brim and pulls it down further. They don't want to be exposed, but it's not like they can hide anything when Loop's looking up at them like that. He clenches his fist and peels the hat off. The cool night air is refreshing, and he shakes the heat from his head as he sets his hat on the grass.

Cautiously, he places a hand back on Loop's jaw, far away from their ear and plumes. Loop flexes and relaxes their hands again and goes silent.

"So," Siffrin begins after a minute, voice barely a whisper. He shifts his hips and stretches his back. Their fingers work themselves lower and lower on Loop's jaw and down their neck until...

They feel something.

A vibration, soft and gentle.

Coming from Loop's throat.

He stops, twitching slightly. He closes his eye, listening carefully.

He can hear it too, now.

No.

It can't be...

"Loop..." They lean over, looking them in the eye.

"No." They look away.

"Are you ... purring???"

"Do I LOOK like a cat?" Their cheek feathers puff out.

"You sure sound like one." Siffrin doesn't fight the smug grin that grows on their face.

"And YOU sound like you know what you're talking about, but sounds can be deceiving," they quip.

His smirk gets bigger.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" And bigger.

"Like, ughhhh! Do you want to know more about stars or not?"

"I do!" his heart skips a beat. He clenches his fingers around Loop's cheek feathers.

"Good~! Now, where were we?"

They pick up where they left off, and soon Siffrin's nerves ease. He continues petting Loop for a while before he has to shift around and dig his fingers into his back, massaging down his spine to his hips.

After a moment, Loop sits up and scoots around him. His heart spikes again when Loop's wing folds over his knees and shoulder presses to his back.

He stares at Loop, who simply keeps talking, staring up at the sky the whole time.

So warm.

Their breath is slow and heavy against him. He's still so tense, so unsure.

But slowly, slowly, they breathe and let themself relax. Bit by bit, they lean further and further against them, sinking into their soft feathers. He bites back a sigh as the tension eases in their back and slowly radiates through the rest of their body. Their breathing slows, their fists unclench, and they lean their head against Loop's shoulder. He closes his eye and feels Loop's voice reverberate through his whole body.

It's nice.

He can let himself have this one indulgence.

"So what exactly was your job?" he mumbles after a while. "Like, did you just spend all day looking at the stars until you find something interesting?"

"Nah, we have computers do that part. No, it was much more specific than that." Loop mulls over their question, rocking their head side to side. Finally, they sigh. "...I was on a team tasked with finding life on other planets."

"What!?" Siffrin jumps, nearly jabbing their knee with the claws on Loop's wing. He spins around to face them, breathing fast. "There's life on other planets!? For real? Did—did you—" Wait. They tilt their head. "Is that where you're from? Another planet?"

Loop looks at them for a moment, then back to the sky.

"Anyway, we've found two, so far, and a few speculated to have all the building blocks needed to form life, if they haven't already. Early life, it seems, in those two, they're still pretty young. They're both a couple hundred thousand light years away, so we haven't been able to get any clear physical images of them with our level of technology yet, but the readouts show atmospheric levels very similar to what Earth's meso-proterozoic era was estimated to have."

"Meso-what?"

"Oh, stars, do I have to give a paleontology lesson too?"

"Oh, wait. Like, dinosaurs?"

"Waaaay before them." They stretch their leg out as if pushing something away. "Probably very early multicellular life. Think worms, and sponges, and algae. And—" they cringe. "Oh geez, fossil reconstructions probably look terrible here."

"Huh?"

They shudder. "Paleontology is probably a pretty fresh field of study here, so any reconstructions are likely horrifically inaccurate."

Siffrin tilts their head.

"Have you been to a museum that has fossils?"

"Once, a while ago."

"I can guarantee, if there were any attempted reconstructions, they look nothing like how these animals actually were."

"Oh."

"You probably learned some pretty wrong things about astronomy, too. So maybe after a few lessons with me, you'd be ready to go out in the world and correct all those awful inaccuracies!" They sputter. "A-actually, don't do that, just keep this all between you and me. Okay?"

Siffrin squints. "So you really are from the future?"

They pause. "Ah. No. It's... No."

"Huh?"

"Anyway!" They clap their hands together. "What else would you like to know?"

Siffrin stares at Loop for a long while, but the rukemi simply stares back, smiling with their single eye curved upward. Their jaws are so close to his face, and he can feel their hot breath on his skin. He sighs. "Can you tell me about constellations?"

"I—" they gaze back into the night. "No. This is an entirely unfamiliar sky."

"What?"

"I don't recognize any of these stars," they murmur. "It looks nothing like the sky back home."

"Oh." They frown and lean back against them. Loop lets out a long sigh.

"Anyway! What else would you like to know?"

Siffrin stares up at the sky; the trillions of twinkling lights staring back at him seem just a little bit closer.

He hums and closes his eye.

"There's a lot I'd like to know," he breathes. "But..."

"Need some time to process all this, hmm?"

"Yeah."

This is nice.

The night chill starts to nip at his knees, so he pulls his cloak down further. A shudder runs down Loop's body as he does it, and their feathers puff up slightly.

So fluffy, so puffy.

They turn to Loop and gaze into their face; they look back, tilting their head the same way and time Siffrin does. Their darkless feathers almost glow in the rising moonlight.

The loops have been unforgiving, still, but at least with Loop here, they finally have a few moments of respite here and there. They're getting back what they've lost. He's getting to know his allies all over again; maybe even better now than at the start of the loops. The House has changed… for better or for worse; snack times are nice, and even though the sadnesses are all over now, he feels himself getting strong enough to defeat most of them with ease.

Maybe eternity with Loop won't be so bad.

He looks away. They watch him for a moment, then sigh.

"You're going to get through this, stardust. We aren't gonna be stuck here forever. That's not how these things work." They cough. "Er—well, I don't really know how these things work but—ergh, you know what I mean."

"I guess." They grab their shoulder and hold themself close.

"Hmm." Loop shifts and stretches their neck. "What do you plan on doing after the loops?"

"What?"

"You have to have some sort of plan for what you want to do after saving an entire country."

He digs his fingers deeper into his arm.

Nothing. Nothing. There is no plan. They're going to be—Everyone will—

Something grips his throat from the inside.

"What will you do after?" His voice wavers.

Loop's silent for a moment. "I suppose I'll go back to how I was before." Their voice is low, resigned.

"How you were—" A chill flashes through him. Like he's being frozen by the King. He whips around to face them. "You'll leave."

Loop folds their ears down and looks away. "Stardust, I thought this was appa—"

Siffrin turns even more, now upright on his knees. "You'll leave! You'll leave me, too? You're just going to leave!?"

They fold their legs back under them. "I-I told you I'm not even supposed to be around yo—"

"I don't care about that!" He shifts forward, grabbing the feathers on Loop's shoulders. "I won't tell anyone about you! We can... I don't know!"

Loop flinches and goes rigid, their tail starts to rapidly twitch. "Stardust, there's nothing—"

The tightness in his throat worms its way out through his chest, down to his gut. "No, no, no! We can keep traveling together you can't leave you're the only one who I can talk to about this!"

"I'm not, though," their voice wavers. "Your pa—"

"I can't tell them! I know I'm selfish and greedy and awful and disgusting but I'm going to lose them and I don't want to lose you too!"

They shrink down more. "Stardust, I don't really know you."

"But you do! You still remember things! You remember to call me stardust! And that you want to help me! And to meet me at the Favor Tree and a lot about the loops and the King and you remember you care about me! Right? That's what you said!"

"I-I did but—" They rake their claws through the earth. "I don't remember anything else."

Tears prick at the corner of his eye but don't fall. "Then I'll tell you! Every time we meet! I'll tell you everything you need to know! That's what I've been doing already! I'll tell you as many times as I need to so if this is ever over you'll remember for real!"

As Siffrin pleads, Loop keeps pulling back, more and more. Their body tenses, and their wings fold tightly against them. They grip the ground, claws digging deep into the dirt.

"Please, stop." A low rumble emanates from deep within their chest.

"No, Loop, please, please don't leave, please you're my f—"

Loop's ears flutter, eye narrows, and they snap their jaws with a hiss. "I'm your what? Your friend? Your family? Someone who can just seamlessly blend in with you when you traipse around other humans?"

A frozen fist crashes right through Siffrin's chest. "But... you said we were friends."

Loop's tail flips up and slams on the ground with an audible thud. "Did I? Okay! Sure! We're friends! I'll be your friend! I'll just keep living out in the woods, watching you go have fun in civilization and hope maybe you'll toss some crumbs my way once in a while! That sounds fun, yes! Sitting out on the sidelines while you get to move on with your life! While you get to go home, and I get to sit in the mud waiting to get another infection that finally kills me. Wondering why I can't go home or if it's even fucking there anymore!"

"While I get to—" Siffrin prickles. Something white-hot bubbles up within him, forcing its way past the chill that had its hold on him; he clenches his jaw so hard his teeth groan painfully. "I can't go home either!"

Their expression shifts in a blink. "What?"

"My home!" He snaps. "It's gone! Wiped completely off the map! At least you remember yours! I don't! I don't even know how old I was when it happened or what it was like or anything about my family or my culture or my language! It's all just gone!"

"Wiped... off the map... like an ex-explosion?" Their feathers stand on end, and they fold their legs closer to their body, claws ripping at a root.

"Just disappeared! Vanished! And everyone forgot everything about it! Including me!"

"Oh."

"That's why I can't remember the stars! I learned it all there and that was taken from me too!" He's yelling, louder and louder. "I don't have anything! I don't have anyone or anywhere to go after this!"

"But your friends—"

"They're not my friends!" he cries. "They don't care enough about me to want to call me that, to want to stay with me! They'll leave me too!"

"I-I'm not sure that's true." Loop's voice is so small.

"It is! Odile said we're just allies! They all talk about going their separate ways when all this is over! And they will, because this journey meant less to them than it did to me!"

He

feels

a

tug—

"Ugh!" He screams into his hands and stands up, snatching his hat and forcing it back on his head.

"Wait, stardust."

"Just forget it, I'm going back."

They don't try to stop him.

>>>

The Clocktower is dark when Siffrin arrives, save for a small, crafted light glowing in the dining area.

He swallows the ever-growing knot in his throat and bubbling dread in his gut, then slips in quietly. Isabeau is settled at the table, fixing a tear on one of Bonnie's shirts. He jumps when the door latches, but a bright smile rises on his face when he sees them.

"Sif!" Isabeau whisper-yells. "You're back! I was starting to get worried." He quickly sews in a few more stitches and ties it off before packing everything away.

"I'm fine." He watches as Isabeau carefully puts everything in an orderly fashion. They clench their fist and breathe. "You waited for me? How long was I gone?"

"A couple hours. It's pretty late. The others just went to bed. I'm guessing you had fun catching up with your friend?"

"Something like that."

Stupid. Stupid. Why did you say all that?

"Huh?" Isabeau tilts his head, studying them.

"They're just leaving tomorrow, is all." They smile.

Why did you do that?

"Aw, you won't be able to see them after we beat the King?"

Ha.

They shake their head. "It's fine, though, we talked a lot tonight."

And then you had to go fucking blind it up by acting like some sort of possessive, desperate creep.

"That's good, at least!" He grins. "Still, I'm sorry you won't have more time with them. I know it's hard to say goodbye sometimes."

"Yeah."

They stare at the floor for a moment before slowly looking up at Isabeau. He smiles, soft and warm, but he seems tense, gripping his hand tightly and rubbing circles on the back with his thumb.

Neither speaks. Everything is so quiet that his own breathing is almost deafening.

It's fine. It's whatever! They're gonna forget this too, and you can pretend it never happened!

They stretch out with an exaggerated, forced yawn.

Unless you were that much of a blinding ass that it's permanently seared into their memory.

"Heh, ready for bed?" Isabeau hums.

"Mhm," they nod, blinking slowly. They're not tired at all.

"Okay," he hums. "Hey, Sif, before we head up, can I tell you something really quick?"

"Hm?" Is it the same thing from every other night or something new?

Doesn't matter, it's not like he'll say whatever it is.

Loop. Why did they..? Ughh...

He keeps his eye focused on Isabeau, though his mind keeps trying to wander.

"Okay, um," he begins, cheeks darkening. "I just wanted to tell you that I, uhm... really liked traveling with you and... and..." He looks away, scratching the back of his head. "And that's it. It was fun. Yep!"

That's it? That's all he wanted to tell them?

They feel...

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't..?" His expression falls. "Never mind."

"No, no, I did!" He holds his hands up. "This journey... meant a lot... to me. I just expected..."

Isabeau shrinks in on himself. "More?" he coughs. He can't make eye contact. "Well, there was something else I wanted to say, but I'll tell you tomorrow, after we beat the King. Wouldn't want to distract you."

Ah, the usual, then.

"Is that okay?" He leans forward, head tilted.

They nod. Maybe one day they can pry it out of him, but not today.

Too blinding dead inside.

And... ugh!

Why did you flip out at them like that? They didn't know! But ugh. They should have! Why can't they remember? Why can't you remember?

...

They can't go home either.

...

"Okay!" His radiant smile is back, and even after all this time, Siffrin feels a little bit of ease flow through him.

It's fine. It's fine! Maybe they'll change their mind!

Isabeau gets out of his seat and walks up to them. "Ready for bed? Big day tomorrow haha." His cheeks are still flushed.

"Yeah," they nod. "Lemme just—" They point to the bathroom.

"Okay, I'll warm the bed for you hahahhh."

He snorts, and they part ways.

Why did you do that?

He locks himself in the bathroom and tries not to scream.

Why did you do that?

They splash cold water on their face and slap their cheeks until it hurts.

Why did you do that?

They find their mildewy towel and scream into it.

Why did you do that!?

They hold it to their face, breathing in the stink, getting hardly any fresh air.

Why did you do that!?

They kick the wall, forgetting they had just taken their shoes off. They bite their lip hard enough to make a mark and resist the urge to rip the sink off its pedestal and throw it out the window.

He sighs and gazes out into the night toward the field they were in, wondering if Loop was still there, wondering where they sleep at night, wondering why they can't go home either. Tears threaten to fall again, and he chokes up.

Why did you... do that..?

When he sneaks into the sleeping quarters, Isabeau is already out like a light.

They slip in beside him and shuffle under the blankets.

He settles in for a long, sleepless night.

Loop.

>>>

The next morning, Siffrin can't bring themself to start any new conversations, and they slip back into a semi-script as their party ascends the House. They try and fail not to think about their horrific blunder from the night before.

A stupid sadness is waiting near the entrance this time. They nod along as their party reassures Mirabelle, and he manages to take out half its health with one swipe.

He is getting stronger.

He can't bring himself to feel excited; it's not like it matters unless he can somehow get strong enough to kill the King in one hit.

But they don't even let themself dream about that.

Wouldn't it be nice, though?

>>>

They remember the key in the Head Housemaiden's desk drawer and slot it into the Library's lock.

The library... something about the back wall.

Oh!

The secret library!

The switch!

They shove their way inside and beeline it to the ancient bricks.

Don't get your hopes up. Don't get your hopes up. It's just boring papers.

But still...

They run their fingers across the wall until they feel a brick shift slightly.

He gasps.

Is this it?

Deep breath, in, and out.

They press it in.

It scrapes along the other bricks and...

There's a series of muffled clicks, and suddenly the wall slides away to reveal a narrow passage.

...

He can't breathe.

THERE REALLY WAS A SECRET LIBRARY?

WHAT?!?

"What the gems—?!"

"SECRET PASSAGE!!!" Bonnie screeches.

Mirabelle looks between them and the opening rapidly. "But how— How did you—"

"I-I just touched it and it opened," he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

Mirabelle steps forward and peers at the mechanism poking out at the top. "That's so weird?! Was it here all this time?!?"

If it was, then... then...

They don't want to think about it! They will not think about it!

He steels himself and enters.

Another sadness slithers around. They bite back a hiss and sneak past when it has its back turned.

That's future Siffrin's problem.

They push their way through the ancient, heavy door and...

Sweet stars, it really is a secret library.

Stars, stars, blind it all.

No, stop thinking about it and look!

"Wow, there's so much here!" Mirabelle gasps.

"Fascinating," Odile muses. Some papers catch her eye, and she drifts over to a pile on the table.

Siffrin's heart hammers against his chest.

Don't get your hopes up.

Don't get your hopes up.

Do NOT get your hopes up.

They walk stiffly to the first shelf.

He's already sweaty, clammy, gross—the sensation of angry bees buzz in his chest.

They swallow the tightness in their throat.

Okay, okay, just start looking.

Okay, okay, okay, nothing yet. Nothing useful...oh hey, there is an ancient book on newts.

...

Nothing there. Just a bunch of books on colors. Whatever those are.

Next shelf.

Isabeau seems to notice his tension, but Siffrin gives him the widest smile they can and turns away before he can say anything.

There's another headache book.

He starts to gravitate toward it.

No—no time. Don't get distracted.

Check everything. Leave no book glossed over.

Last shelf.

Last shelf. Please.

Please, something.

He runs his finger along the spine of every book to keep himself from rushing ahead and skipping something in his haste.

"Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks. "Are you looking for something in particular?"

No. No. No. Still no.

"Huh? Oh." Maybe another set of eyes would be helpful. "Do you think there's something on Crafted shields?"

Isabeau peers at the shelf. "Like, shields in battle? To protect ourselves?" He hums, scratching at his chin. "It would be useful, wouldn't it... We have skills to boost our defense, but a shield would be cool."

Mirabelle hums, threading her fingers together. "I-I was thinking about learning! And I feel like I'm close to getting it!!! But... I'm not there yet. Sorry."

Bonnie squeezes past them and kneels over the bottom. "This book here is just called 'Shields', and it's super dusty." They pull out a book near the bottom of the final shelf.

What?

"Dusty books are good, right?" They smile and hold it out to them.

Siffrin nearly rips the book from Bonnie's hands and throws it open.

This... this could be.

"Siffrin?"

"Whoa, Sif, are you okay? You're shaking."

He hands the book to Mirabelle without a word.

He can't look. He stares at the empty space in the bookshelf instead.

Mirabelle watches him for a moment, they all do, before she turns to the book and starts thumbing through the pages.

Don't get your hopes up.

Don't get your hopes up.

Don't get your hopes up.

She stops about a quarter of the way through the book. Siffrin forces his head to turn and catches a glance at the page. It's dense and full of confusing diagrams.

Mirabelle taps the side of the book rhythmically. "Well, that's not how it works." She chews on her lip. "But... . . ."

Don't. Get. Your. Hopes. Up.

He forces his expression into mild curiosity.

He wants to throw up.

"Wait... Wait a second." Mirabelle gasps. It's as if a switch goes off in her mind. Her expression brightens, and she buries her nose back into the pages.

A few more seconds of mumbling and Siffrin clenching and unclenching his fists, and—

"THAT'S ALL?!?!?"

He nearly jumps out of his skin, causing Isabeau to jump too and reach out to them like they're about to keel over.

"THAT'S HOW YOU DO IT?!??!"

Don't get your hopes up don't get your hopes up dont'getyourhopesupdontdontdont.

"Ah." Odile wanders over from the papers she was snooping in.

"Oh, this sounds fun." Isabeau leans over to check the book, takes one look at the text, cringes, and leans back.

Mirabelle chews on her knuckle. "So then, if I do this, and keep this in mind, and don't forget about this..."

She mumbles under her breath for a long time...

"Okay, so..." She slams the book shut and snaps her head toward them. He jumps again. "Siffrin, do NOT move. I'm about to try a highly volatile Craft Skill on you that I've never tried before."

He freezes. His lungs feel like they're being squeezed.

Just breathe. In, and out.

Mirabelle holds her hands out and murmurs a few words. There's a sound of sizzling wind chimes that seems to originate from within Siffrin's own body.

He feels warm all of a sudden, like a thick blanket wrapped itself around him.

He pries his eye open right as Bonnie throws a punch in his stomach.

Owwie. He flinches. Wait.

"Boniface."

Mirabelle leans closer. "Siffrin, did you feel something...?"

He puts his hand on his stomach.

They didn't feel a thing.

They

Did

Not

Feel

A

Thing.

...

He shakes his head.

He keeps shaking it, more and more.

He didn't feel it. It didn't hurt. He didn't feel it it didn't hurt he didn't feel it he did not feel a thing!!!

A laugh bubbles up from within his chest, and soon he's reduced to a cackling mess leaning up against the ancient books.

He doesn't even care that his allies are all staring at him as tears and snot stream down his face.

They feel like their chest should hurt by now from how violently they're laughing, but it feels fine!

It doesn't hurt!

Don't get your hopes up!

"Uh, Sif, Buddy," Isabeau says when he slides to the floor, still laughing. "You uh—"

"Yeah, haha? Isa?" They wipe all the fluids from their face in one long motion.

"Nothing, glad you're happy it works!"

"That wasn't a side effect of the craft, was it?" Mirabelle hugs the book to her chest.

"No! Haha, no, it's fine! It's fine. It just I uh... thought of a really bad joke... about shields!"

"Really?" Odile raises an eyebrow. "Gems, alive Siffrin."

"Boo," Bonnie crosses their arms.

"So, what was it?" Isabeau asks tentatively.

"Forgot!" They're not even going to bother trying to salvage that.

They have a shield skill!

They can survive the King now!

Maybe!

Don't get your hopes up!

Trembling, they pull themself back upright, wiping the remaining snot from their nose. The shield Craft has since worn off, and he can feel a twinge of tightness in his chest as he gets the remaining giggles out of his system.

They're gonna beat the King again and Mirabelle's gonna deal the final blow and they're going to break the loops and then everyone...

Loop...

Siffrin shakes his head and violently blinks away the thoughts. He takes one step toward the door and stops. They're gonna have to come back there. It's going to take so long every time because they're not gonna beat the King this loop or next loop or the next loop!

...

Maybe there's another way for Mirabelle to learn quicker.

He turns to her. "So, Mira. What made it click?"

"Huh?"

"This book? What about it made you figure it out when you couldn't before?"

"Oh!" she perks up. "That's easy! It's all about—" Mirabelle suddenly bombards him with technical terms!!! He doesn't follow a single word but smiles and nods along either way.

>>>

" —and that's how you do it!!!"

"I did not understand even a little bit of this." Odile rubs her temples.

Isabeau crosses his arms and looks into the distance. "Hm, I couldn't craft a skill like that myself, but..." He squints as he searches for his next words. He lights up with a small gasp. "But it's just about using the CARROT method, right?"

Odile takes the book and gives it a cursory glance. "Is it?" She flips back a page. "I guess that makes some sort of sense..."

Mirabelle flips back a page and shows Odile. "It is! They actually mention it in here, too!"

The CARROT method???

"What's the CARROT method?" Bonnie tilts their head and scrunches their nose.

Mirabelle points to a line and reads aloud: "Can Arrive at a Really Really Outstanding Technique".

What?

Isabeau chuckles. "If you don't know the CARROT method, you don't need to know the CARROT method."

Okay.

Siffrin sure feels stupider than usual this loop.

But it's fine, it's fine! They have a shield skill! That's what matters!

They take a breath. "So, hypothetically, someone reminding you of the CARROT method would make it click for you?"

"Yes!!!!!!" Mirabelle beams, sliding the book back into its place on the shelf and clapping her hands together.

Well, there you go.

Don't. Get. Your. Hopes. Up.

>>>

They make it through the rest of the house.

He tries to start a few conversations, but his mind is miles away.

Don't get your hopes up.

Do not get your hopes up.

...

Loop.

They don't have anywhere to go either...

Pick up that tonic.

Don't get your hopes up.

Why did you yell at them like that?

Kill that sadness—oh, hey that wasn't so bad this time. More than half of your tonics left.

Why did you have to act like such a needy creep?

Why would they want to stay with you?

Don't get your hopes up.

Pick the malanga fritters again.

They're only helping you to get out of the loops.

Tastes like ash.

The King is ahead...

Siffrin shuts his eye tightly and takes a deep breath, in and out.

He takes another, and another.

They're packing up and are about ready to leave the final safe room.

Tune back in, Siffrin. Don't embarrass yourself dying WITH a shield.

Don't get your hopes up.

"Ready?" Isabeau says as they approach the door.

He blinks and pulls his gaze from the tear floating dangerously close.

"Ready!" He smiles.

Deep breath.

Deep, deep breath.

They push through the door and enter the final hallway before the King.

His heart is going to shatter his ribs.

It's so loud. He can hear it.

It sounds like... clanking metal.

Wait.

He pauses.

That's not him.

"What's that sound?" Bonnie asks.

Something crashes far ahead.

The King bellows, followed by another crash.

Wait.

Wait. Waitwaitwait.

Oh no.

His legs move on their own, and he dashes full speed ahead.

"Sif!?"

"Siffrin, wait!"

Oh stars, oh stars.

Oh, blind it all!

The noise grows louder. There's a massive boom, and the whole House shudders. Dust shakes free from the ancient bricks. Siffrin stumbles but does not slow. His party is already far behind him, calling out to them.

He throws the door open, heart in his throat.

At the far end of the antechamber, the King thrashes around, wailing. Something long juts from his neck, and dark blood spurts from it with every move he makes. The walls around him are littered with holes, with a particularly massive one to his left. Rubble, shards of glass, and so so many tears coat the floor and

        there

                     is

                               a

                                       shade...

terrifying and visceral spattered across everything, the walls, the floor, the King.

And before the tyrant, flying erratically, thrashing violently, dripping that same shade is...

"Loop!"

[muunrabbit]

(You woke them up! How rude!!!)

Some Creature SifLoop that I did like. A week ago.

Ignore the background, I couldn't be bothered.

[dailyhmsw]

loop 181

bonus speedpaint because i FINALLY REMEMBERED TO RECORD!!!!!!!!!!!

[tawnysoup]

[AGESWAP AU] smitten with the poor thang unfortunately 8_8

[circusballoon]

I hadn't drawn enough weird, undead-looking Loops in my time. So have a weird Loop.

[lucabyte]

times ive drawn loop being used as a reading light: 2