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m0ther-of-p3arl · 1 year

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bad news on tv, black ink revives me

(robert aeor high au p2)

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hi and welcome to my mcyt high school au! if you haven't read part one, i highly suggest starting with that.

…Huh. That’s interesting. So there is a new student, and chances are, based on the chair seated ominously by his side, Scott has a class or two with him. He’s, annoyingly enough, slightly interested about this so-called “Timmy,” wonders what he looks like-

or Scott finds out there's a new kid at school, and can't stop thinking about who they might be.

TW: internalized homophobia, self hatred, anxiety, bullying

Robert Aeor High is an exceptional school, very upper-class, with most of the students living most of their lives in mansions, surrounded by everything they could ever need. Scott supposes he’s obliged to count himself in this number, though his friends, all mostly lower-class typical income people, say he’s nothing like them. But he has grown up in a mansion, and even his cold, sterile home is still a mansion.

Scott is by no means popular, in fact, quite the contrary. He tries as hard as he can to stay to the side of all the drama, to stay safe within his own little friend group, to stay hidden, to stay safe. Sometimes it’s hard to blend in, though, when someone’s singling you, specifically, out. Especially when that person is Xornoth.

Xornoth is that kid at school, the one everybody’s afraid of, the popular one, the one who has several henchmen that bend over to do zir bidding, the one who everyone seems to have a secret crush on. Ze’s a tiefling, like Owen, but where Owen is a prismatic tiefling, able to be born any color of the rainbow, from dusky blue to the pumpkin orange of Owen’s skin, Xornoth is a dark tiefling. Zir skin is a dark, almost glowing, purple, and zir massive, twisting goat horns at least three times bigger than the non threatening orange spikes that peek out from Owen’s hair.

Xornoth is one of the main reasons Scott’s begun to dread going to school almost as much as going home, especially now that their bullying’s extending to the level of legitimate harassment.

Xornoth seems to have a perverse obsession with touching Scott’s snakes.

A gorgon’s snakes are like an avian’s wings, or a tiefling’s horns, or a celestial’s tail: you simply don’t touch them. Xornoth’s way around this basic human decency, however, is that since Scott’s a hybrid, those rules just don’t apply to him. It’s never made much sense to Scott, as though he’s defective, he’s still a gorgon, still a person.

He has feelings, and that’s the one thing Xornoth seems to disregard the most.

“Scotty, come on, I just want to see how they feel,” ze purrs. Zir two henchmen, Joey and a boy who Scott only knows as “Sausage,” snicker under their breath, smirks ghosting across their faces.

“No, you can’t-” Scott begins, only to feel unwanted hands brushing roughly up against his snakes, the fingers calloused and groping. Scott shrinks away, disgusted. “What is wrong with you?! How would you like it if I touched your horns?”

“God, Major, what the hell? Why do they feel like ice?” Xornoth asks, completely disregarding Scott’s previous statement, reaching zir curious hand out towards his head again.

“One, my name is not Major. Two, you know why, you’ve known why since last year. Three, stop trying to touch my snakes. Now.” Scott’s slowly backing away, and he can feel himself beginning to shake. He hates unwanted touch, especially directed at his snakes, and he knows that if he doesn’t get away soon, he’ll have a full-on breakdown in the middle of the hallway. He’d never live it up then.

“Aww, he’s mad!” Xornoth snickers. “It’s just a question, Major. Be civil. Now, as much as I’d love to stay here and hang out with you all day-” Joey giggles under his breath, pushing his hand up to his mouth- “I’m afraid me and the boys have things to do. Arrivederci, Scotty Boy!” Xornoth waves cheekily, zir eyes cruel and calculating, knowing ze’s hit him in exactly the right spot.

Scott watches as ze sashays down the hall, one arm wrapped loosely around Joey’s shoulder as ze talks animatedly to Sausage, rude laughter cascading from the boy after Xornoth says something seemingly very funny, presumably about him.

He hates Xornoth almost as much as he hates himself.

Walking into his homeroom, Scott immediately notices that there’s an extra desk in the back row, right next to where he sits, alone, the furthest away from everyone he can get. He’s always chosen to sit in the far back corner whenever he can, because the less attention Scott gets, from students and teachers, the better it is for him. So the fact that now, there seems to be someone who’s sitting next to him? It doesn’t bode well.

What if whoever’s desk this happens to be another Xornoth, bent on tormenting Scott and making his life hell?

But as the students trickle into homeroom, the extra desk isn’t claimed, and Scott lets out a mental sigh of relief. Maybe it’s just a mistake, just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe it’s for a new person in a different class, someone who doesn’t share Scott’s homeroom, but instead has this class for math or something. That sounds plausible, and if Scott’s honest with himself, he’s slightly disappointed. There’s always a possibility that any given new person will be attractive, and Scott is in dire need of a boyfriend.

The thought slips out before he can stop himself, and immediately, he starts to spiral.

No. No, no, no, nonononono- he’s not supposed to think that, that isn’t allowed- Scott’s disgusting for even letting that thought breach his mind, he’s not gay, he can’t be gay, but he knows he is and that’s the worst part- Scott can feel the breakdown from before pressing even harder in the back of his skull, because from his dream father, his real life father, Xornoth being absolutely horrendous, and now a reminder of one of the many ways he’s utterly repulsive inside and out, it’s just too much for him to take.

Scott needs to talk to Shelby, the main therapist of their group, because though she doesn’t know that he’s gay (disgusting) she knows about the other things, like his father and Xornoth. Scott’s not ready to tell anyone other than Owen that he’s gay (revolting) yet, if ever. He’ll try as hard as he can to beat it out.

He whips out his phone and pulls up the group chat, making sure to prop up his textbook to hide the fact that he’s texting, as Mr Jau is very particular about that kind of thing. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s on right now, however, which is…not optimal for Scott.

And if he can’t talk to Shelby, he needs to find a distraction. But then he remembers he’ll see Shubble next period anyway, and even if he can’t find something else to focus on, he should be able to make it the ten minutes before homeroom’s over and the real school day begins.

He’s just scrolling through his notifs now, finding a few from his mutuals, rolling his eyes affectionately at the crazed reposts of fanart. Then he notices that in the absence of him and Owen while they were walking to school, Joel and Shelby (the bus riders of the group), have been talking about something. Scott knows it’s wrong to snoop, but like, they put whatever they were talking about on the group chat, so they must have meant him to see it, right?

And now that Scott knows there’s something to know, he absolutely has to do a bit of “detective work.”

He scrolls to his last sent message, a hasty gn love yall xx that he had typed out before his father had come into his room for his nightly inspection of Scott last night, and reads from there. Owen, Joel, and Shelby hadn’t stayed long after he’d gone, trickling away at about eleven, which leaves him with a slight pang of relief that he hasn’t missed anything. The conversation had resumed this morning, while he and Owen were walking to school.

He really doesn’t have much to do, and he’s secretly very curious what they were talking about, so he begins to scroll through the texts.

thesmallbeans: hey shelby you there

shubbleshrubble: heyo joel :)

thesmallbeans: did you see, there’s a new kid?

shubbleshrubble: wdym, i dont go on your bus ofc not you idiot

thesmallbeans: shut up your short you cant talk but yeah, there’s like a new guy, hes got wings so i think hes an avian

thesmallbeans: he’s sitting a few seats in front of me he got on the stop after mine

shubbleshrubble: huh we havent had a new student in a while much less an avian arent they rare? I think grians the only avian at school right?

thesmallbeans: FOR GOODNESS SAKES shubble YES theyre rare do you pay NO attention during species studies?!?!

shubbleshrubble: ummmmmm

shubbleshrubble: anywayyyy

thesmallbeans: also no hes not the only one you’ve forgotten about beks

shubbleshrubble: oh right beky but shes a year lower so why would i remember her

thesmallbeans: i remembered her and i have like the worst memory arent gnomes suppotsed to be all wise and remembering things?????

shubbleshrubble: shut up joel

shubbleshrubble: im super smart you dont know anything about me

shubbleshrubble: im a mystery ;)

thesmallbeans: uh huh. sure

shubbleshrubble: oh shush

shubbleshrubble: anyway what does this new kid look like??

thesmallbeans: hes blonde and his wings are like bright yellow, hes pretty tall for an avian, blue eyes and hes wearing the girls uniform

thesmallbeans: like the one with the skirt i mean

shubbleshrubble: huh

shubbleshrubble: do you konw his name

thesmallbeans: i think its timmy or something like that

thesmallbeans: oop bus pulling up gtg cya @ school

STOP IT, SCOTT. STOP. It’s the second time this morning and two more times than he can handle. He tries to convince himself the reason he’s so intrigued by this turn of events is because the new kid is a rarer species, because he’s supposedly tall for an avian, because he seems like an interesting person, choosing to wear the skirt uniform and all that. There are times when Scott wishes that he could wear it himself, but of course, his father would never condone such an unmanly outfit.

He slides his phone back into his pocket, closing the textbook and pushing it back into his desk as someone walks into the room, and Scott cranes his head forwards, because is it him, is it the new boy?

Scott flumps back into his seat, realizing it’s only Joel. He suppresses a sigh; he should have known not to get his hopes up, but an avian? They’re the least-common sentient species, having been hunted to extinction for their wings by other species, most noticeably the seafolk.

Their small stature and group nesting habits make them a predictable and easy to target people, and hundreds of avians are murdered each day, from the owls to the penguins to the canaries. It would be so interesting to meet a new avian, someone who seems to be neither an owl, like Beks, the one in the year below, or Grian, who’s a parrot.

Scott tries to convince himself this is the reason he’s interested.

But he realizes he’s been unfair, as Joel is never “only” Joel. He’s a celestial, and a sky celestial at that, so he’s almost inherently gorgeous, as well as extremely fucking tall. His light blue skin ripples with white cloud-like spots, his hair dark brown shot with a green streak that’s always reminded Scott of lighting, tied back into a short ponytail. A green laurel tattoo snakes down Joel’s right arm, his smooth, jewel-covered tail snaking along the floor behind him.

He stands at almost eleven feet, and he hasn’t stopped growing yet. Scott’s been friends with Joel for the longest time out of any of his closest companions, their friendship dating back to fourth grade, when Scott had nicked a few of Joel’s pencils during class. He’d thought he’d gotten off scot free (heh heh), but he’d been met at his locker by a glowering Joel, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Joel had been eight feet tall even then, and had picked up Scott by the scruff of his neck and put him on top of the lockers “to teach him a lesson,” in the celestial’s own words. But he had come back not five minutes later and brought Scott down, offering a profuse apology and saying he was working on “not being a menace.” They’ve been friends ever since.

Joel saunters across the room, taking his spot in the corner behind Scott, as he’s too tall for any desk this school has to offer. “Hey, Scott,” he grins in that cocky Joel way of his, “What’s up?”

“Eh, not much, you?” Scott asks, smiling back at him.

“Oh, you know, just…stuff.” He waves his hands vaguely, and Scott has to duck to avoid being backhanded by the unchecked limbs. “Hey, by the way, have you seen Lizzie today?” Joel’s eyes begin to go misty thinking about his not-so-secret crush. Scott’s pretty sure she’s completely oblivious of Joel’s affections, and he doesn’t know how that’s possible, but seafolk are notably fuzzy-minded when kept away from the ocean for an extended amount of time, so that probably explains why.

But Joel’s crush is still so glaringly obvious that even with how much Lizzie’s brain must be muffled, Scott can’t imagine how she hasn’t noticed so far.

“No, I haven’t, why?” Scott decides it’s best to humor Joel, to let him go on and on about Lizzie and how her hair cascades off her head and how pink it is and how much she looks like an axolotl with those frills that surround her neck and how her skin is so blue but not sky blue like Joel’s, blue like the ocean deep and dark, blue like the ocean Lizzie calls home. All Scott has to do is offer a few “mhm”s and nods, and Joel will be happy. Scott’s learned long ago that this is the best way to deal with Joel, because when he has something to talk about, ye gods, he will talk.

“By the way, Joel,” Scott says, interrupting a detailed and decidedly very sappy description of how Lizzie’s eyes glitter in the sunlight, “Can you tell me more about that new kid who goes on your bus? I saw your texts.”

Joel looks slightly miffed that he’s been cut off, but diverts his attention to Scott nonetheless. That’s a first. “Uh, sure, what do you want to know?”

“For starters, you said he was an avian? What kind?” Scott leans forward, chin resting on his hands.

“Um, something with bright yellow wings? Like, almost solid yellow, no patterns.” Joel’s disinterested, staring off into the distance, almost certainly mooning over Lizzie, though silently this time (thank god).

“Joel,” Scott chastises admonishingly. “Now who doesn’t pay attention in species studies? The only avian types with solid yellow wings are canaries and some parrots- did the new kid have more upwards pointing or downwards pointing ear feathers?”

“Downwards pointing, I think,” Joel answers, “They were all fluffed out, though. His wing feathers too.”

“Okay, so he’s a canary,” Scott realizes, ripples running down his spine. “And the fluffed feathers means he was nervous. And understandably, starting a new school and all that? That’s a lot to take in at once. You said his name was Timmy?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Joel’s squinting, as if trying to find the answer off in the distance somewhere. “But I can’t be sure, he said his name kinda quietly when the bus driver asked what it was. Hey, why are you so interested in this new kid anyway?”

“Oh, no real reason,” Scott hastily reassures. “Avians are just so rare, though, and the canary bit is interesting too- they’re the least common avian type of all, and isn’t there a proverb about canaries being the harbingers of death?”

“Maybe,” Joel mutters, clearly not really engaging with the conversation. “I don’t really know- can I go back to talking about Lizzie now?”

Scott rolls his eyes and half-holds in an exasperated sigh. “Sure, Joel. Go straight ahead.” Scott’s still only half-listening, the rest of his mind wondering about the new kid; an avian, and a canary? That’s an interesting combination, Scott thinks, especially since, as he’s already stated, canaries in particular are one of the rarest avian types.

The more he thinks about it, the more interested he is in this new student, and before he knows it, the bell has rung and he’s off to math. Waving goodbye to Joel, who stays in homeroom for his next class, Scott weaves his way through the hallways crowded to the brim with students of all species. Friends are snickering and chatting animatedly in little groups of three about the newest gossip or newest episode of their favorite series or loudly bragging about how gay they are.

Scott smirks dryly at that last one, his secret still held close to his chest. He’s so caught up in his own mind that he doesn’t notice where he’s going, and someone collides directly into his chest, causing him to stagger back a couple steps.

Now, Scott is by no means tall, landing squarely at around five and a half feet, but whoever’s collided with him is a significant bit shorter, by at least four inches, given the feel of it. This weirdly short person mutters a stammered apology, ducking behind Scott before he can get a good look at them, and by the time he’s craned his head back to try to catch a glimpse of his mysterious offender, they’re gone.

Scott doesn’t even notice the feather laying right at his feet as he rolls his eyes and enters his science class, the bright yellow plume flying up, up, up to the ceiling under the scuff of his feet, landing on the rafters far above the crowded mass below.

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danjaley · 9 months

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Jo's school, the war, those Germans and how to write a good character purely by accident.

A literary essay that came to my mind yesterday, through the conversation with @nocturnalazure

Originally I wanted to include this in the favourite characters tag, but it required so much background information: It's easy to find good characters in well-written books. One of my favourite characters in a badly written book is Frieda Mensch from the Chalet school series (the blonde girl, in the back on both images)

I discovered the Chalet School series at a jumble sale a few years ago, and I enjoy reading it because I like to imagine what could have been done with some good plotting skills. Also it's full of motifs that only made sense in the mid 20th century (the chain-smoking lung specialist) and the German spoken by the characters is simply hilarious. (Onkel Reise - a very tall man.)

Interestingly, the series is heavily inspired by Little Women and its sequels, especially Jo's school. It's about the English sisters Josephine (Joey) and Madge (not Meg!) Bettany who set up an international school in Austria around 1930. There's also an unrelated little Amy around.

Frieda Mensch is an Austrian girl who goes to that school and becomes a friend of Joey's. So far that's nothing special, the series is literally about Joey being everyone's supportive friend. In volume two the sisters spend Christmas with Frieda's family in Innsbruck, which makes her stand out a little. Then, because her first name means "peace" and her surname means "human", the author assigned her the role of the peacemaker in her class. She's portrayed as a serious, law-abiding girl, but of course schoolgirls must also be good sports and know when to break the rules. Even if it's possibly an accidental contradiction, this gives her an implicit conflict. Gradually she becomes the main loyal friend who supports Joey if needs be (like on nightly ice-skating-rescue-missions ^).

When the girls in the books are around 19 and just left school, in real life the annexation of Austria by Nazi Germany hit. By the time the school could be fictionally evacuated, war had begun too. Suddenly this Austrian girl whose name means "peace" and "human" becomes hugely symbolic. Frieda has to flee to England, one of her friends' father is tortured to death, her fiancée is also shortly imprisoned and suddenly she's a girl with a fate. She also helps Joey, who is married by then and has recently given birth, to cross the Channel. At the end of that volume Frieda gives a speech to what's left of the school, about peace and acting humanely despite political conflicts. Wars change many lives and reveal unknown strength in some people - sometimes this is even true for fictional characters.

(If I were set the task to write a novel in which an international school defies the Nazis, my first thought would be that they might have some Jewish students they must protect. Interestingly, this thought never crossed the author's mind. The Nazis turn their full force on this English school because the girls privately vowed to always keep up their girl guide ideals, even the Germans and Austrians from whom they're about to be separated. While violence against Jews is mentioned in the story, it shows how little the threat to them was taken seriously abroad. It also shows the hope that the decent-minded Germans might get the upper hand again after a while. It's strongly biased in its own way, but it's a perspective one doesn't find in books that were written with the whole history in mind. That's why I enjoy historic fiction so much.)

If I ever get so far with the McCarrics, I'm going to steal a lot from Highland Twins go to Chalet School. In fact I've already named Shiena after a character from that book.

#books #personal #nonsims

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thegothgainer · 1 year

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A couple of my favorite things from each Pokemon generation

I have a lot of negative things to say about recent Pokemon, but I kinda want to offset that with a list of some of my actual favorite things. There are a lot, so I'm going to try and list just one from each gen.

Gen 1

Probably the hardest to come up with, since later games mostly improved upon the formula. I could just say "it's the first Pokemon game" but that feels like a cop-out. So, instead, I'll say it's the sort of mystery it had. You'd find new things out from being told by friends. There were rumors about how to catch the mythical Mew. There was the superstition that holding down certain buttons would help catch Pokemon. It may have just been a thing of its time, given the state of the internet back then. But there's something about getting information from guides and friends instead of an ad-ridden barf of a website that made Pokemon feel really personal.

Actually, I just remembered one more positive in me. Gary being an absolute asshole. I love being able to take my rival down a notch. I don't want to feel bad I destroyed my rival because they're a great person. I want to rub it in Gary's dumb face.

Gen 2

The phone system. Being able to get calls from trainers, asking for a rematch was the coolest thing. It made the world feel so alive. Like there were things going on while you were training to become a champion.

I'm surprised we don't have anything like this in modern Pokemon games. A fake social media network would be sooooo cool to see within Pokemon. Gen 7 kinda had this with the photos, but the responses weren't from NPCs you've met. It felt kind of flat to me. But if Youngster Joey followed me and commented on every picture of a Ratata I posted, I'd be stoked. If my rival sent pics of their travels while I did mine, it would make me want to go out and find those places and show them up. I think there is a lot of potential to make the Pokemon world feel more lived-in in the games.

Gen 3

So, Gen 3 is two things, but both because of the same reason: Puzzles and Exploration.

Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald had a lot of depth to the maps. You could climb your bike up the side of a mountain and drive over a bridge from where you were just standing. The sense of exploration was strong too. You could dive underwater and see the depths. Too much water, my ass.

Exploration felt worth it too. Especially the Regi trio. Three legendary Pokemon you get just by wandering around and hearing myths and solving puzzles. None of it is part of the main story. You feel rewarded for exploration. We got a whole open world in Gen 9, but none of the exploration really feels as worth it as it did in Gen 3.

And the puzzles were really fun too. They had a slight challenge to them as a kid. In the newer games, the gym challenges feel a little more like filler than a challenge. The themed puzzles were almost a staple of Pokemon gameplay at this point, from spinning tiles, to cracking ice blocks to pushing boulders around. It was a part of Pokemon's DNA, and honestly, I miss it.

I put these in the same category because of the Regi trio. They are the result of exploration and puzzles, and I really feel like they highlight everything that was great about Gen 3 gameplay.

Gen 4

The best thing I remember about Gen 4 was the lore. And it had to be in Gen 4! This was the game where the creation trio was introduced. But seeing all this lore really helped to flesh out the world a lot. I really want to see more story outside of the main storyline and Pokedex entries. I want to know about the wars that happened long ago. I want to know the myths that the mythicals were involved in. I want to know more about this world that GameFreak has created. We do see a little bit of that in Legends: Arceus. And I love it for it.

Gen 5

Sprites.

I never had the opportunity to play the Gen 5 games until after I completed Gen 7. But I do remember that I was blown away by the personality that the sprites brought. Every single one was animated in such a way that really highlighted that Pokemon's personality. The idle animations in modern games can feel a little bland and stiff. But just look at this! Wings flapping, mouth chomping, this guy feels alive. This kind of personality really helped the Black and White games feel so organic.

Gen 6

Pokemon Amie.

It's one thing to select an item, click use, and then just heal your Pokemon up. But, I'm playing Pokemon because I love my partners in crime. I want to give them the praise they deserve, not just run to a salon and select the option to groom them. And feed them. It was like a dumbed-down Nintendogs, and I would love for there to be more Pokemon games that expand on this idea. Or even just bring it back in full in a new game.

Honestly, the whole online capability of the game was great, that whole section on the lower part of the 3DS. It was really easy to find trades, battles, etc, something that I think the new games lack for some reason.

Oh, and Megas were also really cool. Probably the best "Gimmick".

Gen 7

Gen 7 was in a kind of transition period, but honestly, it had one of my favorite stories. A lot was going on, and it was great. Runaway hooligans, interdimensional travel, mind control... this game had it all. The characters are fun, especially Guzma (what a name, by the way). And from what I remember, post game for Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon were really cool for having all of the big bosses from previous games show up and say what happened in the worlds in which they won.

Runner up is wild double-battles (SOS battles). I miss in-game double battles...

Gen 8

This one is a tough one. Not that I particularly hated Gen 8, no. It's just that it was in a sort of experimental period that Gen 9 greatly improved upon. It was the first attempt at a semi-open world, and it was pretty cool, but underwhelming. But, it definitely opened up my mind to what Pokemon could be. They were finally trying new things that strayed from the original formula. Raid Dens were a neat concept, but just didn't feel like it had the epicness it was going for. The Wild Area was cool, but not as explorable as I hoped. But, at the very least, it let me know that Pokemon didn't have to be just the same linear path every generation. Maybe in the future we can finally get back to the exploration and collection that made Pokemon so enjoyable. Which led to...

Gen 9

Everything that Gen 8 was trying to do, Gen 9 improved. Not perfected. Far from it. But it started getting closer to what I imagine to be my perfect Pokemon game. I'm not going to explain my perfect Pokemon game here, but I will highlight a few things about Gen 9.

First, of course, is open-world exploration. I remember taking on the challenge of doing the gyms in reverse order. And while I would have loved some better scaling, it was just really cool to be able to do the gyms and story in my own way. I really hope they fix it up a bit and continue it.

Then, there's the story itself. The game went real. A little darker than some of the previous games, but not edgy dark. No spoilers, of course, but it was good to see characters get plenty of character growth and screentime. It was cute. It was sad. It was fun.

Raids were also improved. It still has its connection problems. But the biweekly 7-stars feel more of a challenge. I don't like that it's built around FOMO and I feel it should rotate. And when they drop support for the game, there will no longer be 7-stars. Maybe they'll patch something in, but I'm doubtful. Still. I do enjoy it better at least than previous raids.

If I could, I would also add in some of the side games to this list as well, but this is already a long post, so maybe in another.

Anyways, I'd love to hear what all other people enjoyed about these games. I know there's a lot of hate for these games every gen, and I know I've rambled about things that I would have liked to see done better. But there's also plenty to love about this franchise.

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lncarnon · 1 month

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[ disagree ] your muse sternly telling mine ‘ no ‘ . / sable @ joey.

The authority which permeates her voice leaves the Legion at an utterly complete loss. Beneath the fabric skull mask his brows furrow, and the knife of which he had intended to use, lowers down to his side. Yeah, he hadn't met a survivor who was bold enough to simply tell him no. It's not in the play book; they were supposed to run and scream and beg for their lives not stand their ground.

"I.. uh- alright," he falters again. "Wait.."

His mind churns with indecision and he tests the boundaries, as if she was the one wielding the knife instead. This isn't what he wants, anyways, the killing had never been his idea. Taking a tentative step towards both Sable and the generator that she stands before the killer doesn't let his gaze stray from her own intense glare.

"I don't have to listen to you."

#(JOEY) IC / MAIN #fiercehearts #this was so funny he's just like uhhhhhhhh

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lunarsands · 6 months

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ESMP S1 Fanfic - A Garden’s Path - Ch 2

Characters: Mythical Sausage, Scott Smajor, Bubbles the Dog, Sir Carlos, appearances by the rest of the cast of Empires SMP S1, featuring blaze-hybrid emperor TangoTek, and introducing: The Children of Mythland (specific characters to be tagged when they appear in each chapter)

Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor, LDShadowlady/Smallishbeans, Shubble/Katherine Elizabeth, TangoTek & SolidarityGaming, Joey Graceffa/Xornoth

Tags: Empires SMP S1 AU, scosage, adoption, fluff, wholesome, so much wholesome fluff you would not believe, a bit of angst here and there, Sausage has a few nightmares for Plot reasons, acknowledgement of amputation (not sure how else to tag that but just in case)

WARNINGS: fantasy racism (human v elf), loss of parent (with adoption inevitably comes orphans), minor character death in a later chapter

Chapter Summary: The debut gala for the princes of Mythland proceeds and the boys meet a wide variety of rulers from across the Empires. Most of them seem determined to embarrass Sausage, Scott has a heartfelt conversation with Gem, and Xornoth spends some quality time with his nephews. Later, Azahar asks for a special favor, which his fathers are happy to provide in order to foster his interests.

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Prologue ] [ Chapter One ]

[A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates, irl stress and writer’s block hit me hard. I made a few revisions and moved some events to other chapters, hence the title change on this one]

- --

Chapter Two – The First Gala

The day of the gala, along with cooler autumn weather, seemed to arrive in no time at all. The castle was abuzz with activity as finishing touches were added to the ballroom and other guest areas, while the boys spent the morning half-excited, half-worried, until the early afternoon when it was time to get ready. Rather than simply have servants help them while they themselves got ready, Sausage and Scott were quick to don their own outfits, both wearing a mix of red and yellow in Mythland style with matching fur-trimmed capes. The main difference was elven-styled filigree on Scott’s clothes as well as his crown being made of ice crystals. They then assisted the boys.

The combination of Rivendell and Mythland styles had come together nicely under the tailor’s skillful eye; embroidered patterns of shining gold that mimicked Mythland heraldry ran down the front of each doublet, accompanied by matching gold buttons. The same pattern repeated along the outer seam of their leggings and encircled the top of their color-coordinated boots.

Sausage was currently brushing Elowen’s hair, wearing a glove over his prosthetic hand to avoid any strands getting caught in the metal joints. He hummed a calm, quiet tune while the boy fidgeted slightly. Azahar was reading the guest list and practiced saying the names of the rulers to himself. Scott had gone to greet an early arrival, so Sausage had taken over braiding the sides of the younger boy’s hair.

Elowen fidgeted some more. “Is it going to look okay if you do it? I never had my hair long enough before.”

“I promise I’ll make it look nice. I’ve been practicing on Dad’s hair. His looks fine today, right?”

Elowen nodded without thinking, subsequently pulling his hair out of Sausage’s fingers. Sausage smiled and gently picked up the strands that were intended for the braid. “Sorry, Papa.”

“It’s all right. We’ve got plenty of time. And Dad can fix it when he gets back if you like that better.”

“No, it’s okay.” The boy tried very hard to stop fidgeting, but once Sausage finished both braids and had moved to secure them together at the back of Elowen’s head, he blurted, “What if I trip? And fall? And break my crown? What if everyone starts laughing, and they think I’m a bad prince?”

“Oh, well… Then I’ll just have to throw them in the dungeon!” Sausage chuckled and walked around in front with the hairbrush to playfully dash Elowen’s fringe over his eyes.

“But – I – I don’t want that either! I’d be the one who broke something!”

Sausage now parted the boy’s fringe neatly to either side. “I promise you won’t be in trouble. Only people who are mean to my son on his special day will go in the dungeon.”

A voice familiar to the human but unknown to the boys called from the doorway, “Well, sounds like I had better make sure I get along with my new nephews, because I would really hate to have to stay in the dungeon every time I come for a visit. I have to hand it to you, Sausage, you’ve got a good grasp on the protective parent thing already.”

The purple-haired elf wearing Rivendell regalia who leaned around the doorframe grinned, only for Scott to push past him into the room. “If you keep going with the puns, I’ll throw you in the dungeon. Boys, this is your Uncle Xornoth. He likes to make jokes about Papa’s prosthetic arm. Xornoth, this is Azahar and Elowen.”

Xornoth stepped fully into the room and bowed. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I would have liked to see you sooner, but your Dad left me to run a kingdom by myself, so I’ve been very busy. This gala was just the break I needed, so thank you for becoming my brother’s sons!”

Azahar looked at Xornoth with uncertainty at his casualness while Elowen came over to join him. “Um, you’re welcome… sir?”

“Psht, might as well call me ‘Your Highness, King of Rivendell’! Uncle, uncle! You can call me Uncle, or just Xornoth, or ‘that silly guy related to Dad’!” Xornoth laughed for a moment, but when both boys continued to look unsure, he bowed again – apologetically. “I’m sorry, forgive me, I do like to try to keep the mood light. I am genuinely pleased to finally see you in person. Your dad has told me about you in letters and I was happy to get the invitation. I wanted to be the first here, and it looks like I made good time.”

He now more politely took Azahar’s hand and bowed over it, then did the same to Elowen, smiling softly when the latter tried to offer a brave smile. “Welcome, my nephews, to the family. I hope we can chat a little more later. I have to join the other guests, but I’ll see you out there soon. Don’t worry too much about impressing anyone today, and it’s okay to be nervous, too. If it would make you feel better, I can tell you all about what happened at both of your fathers’ debut galas—”

Scott took his brother by the elbow and pulled him toward the door. “That’s enough for now, I think. You can go.”

“Aw, Scott, don’t you want me to tell them about how much mischief little Sausage got into when he still had his original arm?”

“No. We’ll see you downstairs.” Scott closed the door in his brother’s face, then sighed.

Azahar covered his mouth to hide a laugh, while Elowen’s curiosity was now piqued. “Did Uncle Xornoth fight the dragon that ate Papa’s arm, too?”

“No,” Scott replied, “He was somewhere else at the time. But he helped us when we got home after that, so Papa could rest.”

Sausage cleared his throat as he removed the glove and set it aside. “Let’s not worry about that old story right now! It’s time for the present! And presents! Are you ready for some stuffy ceremonial traditions, and then some fun dancing and chatting with everyone?”

“Yes!” the boys chorused, trading hopeful looks, eager to finally see the crowns that had been mentioned.

Scott leaned in to comment to them, “Papa thought the ceremonial part was very boring at his gala. Uncle Xornoth wasn’t wrong about the mischief part.”

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Sausage protested. “My grandfather was a very boring man! I know there are supposed to be a bunch of official things that go along with this, but we’re taking the shorter route today so everyone can have a good time sooner!”

As they left the anteroom and crossed toward the curtained area over the staircase that led down into the ballroom, Azahar pondered to himself why Sausage had specifically mentioned his grandfather, and no other relatives. He kept the thought to himself for later; up until now he had been more concerned with the adjustment period and getting to know only his new parents, with less thought given to his possible extended Mythlandian family.

The grand staircase had three levels that wound downward until it reached the polished marble floor. Sausage peeked out through the curtains to see how the gathering below was going, then smiled back at everyone. “Okay, everything looks ready. Just wait here until you’re called. We go out first.” He sketched a bow to Scott, then held out his left arm. Scott smiled and hooked his arm around Sausage’s, then also gave the boys an encouraging nod.

Beyond the curtain, the herald announced, “Your hosts, Lord Sausage and King Regnant Scott!”

The two rulers exited through the curtain, pausing on the top step to give a brief wave, then walked down to the first landing.

“And presenting: Prince Azahar and Prince Elowen!”

Azahar quickly squeezed Elowen’s hand, then they copied their fathers as they stepped out. Scott and Sausage parted, waiting to either side for the boys to join them, then they all walked down to the next landings. On the final landing awaited two attendants who held cloth-covered red cushions. It was here that Scott moved to the side so that the boys had center stage with Sausage, who turned to the attendant on the left and lifted the cloth.

Upon the cushion sat a gold filigree crown with a shield-shaped ruby in the center, stylized swords crossed over it in protective symbolism as well as serving the practical purpose of holding the gemstone in place. Sausage held up the crown then lowered it onto Azahar’s head.

He then turned to the other attendant. The cloth was lifted to reveal another filigree crown with a six-sided pale blue agate in the center, this one with snowflake-shaped details keeping the gemstone centered. Sausage lifted it and then placed it over Elowen’s hair, nestling it just right where his braids were secured.

A ripple of applause flowed through the crowd. Elowen seemed about to shy away, but Sausage took his hand with another encouraging smile. Scott saw it as a cue to step forward and take Azahar’s hand. They both used this as a way to guide the boys to face the ballroom, then raised their joined hands and bowed. The applause continued, then the kings moved down the rest of the stairs with their sons.

Xornoth was already waiting to the right, clearly trying to contain his grin to an acceptable level. Sausage and Scott halted on the last step as the other elf bowed. The herald called from the landing, “The Monarch of Rivendell, Xornoth!”

“Good evening, Your Highnesses. It is a pleasure to meet the young princes.” Xornoth snuck in a wink and whispered to the boys, “Again, as it were. We’ll hang out after you get through the guest list.” He straightened and subtly glanced over his shoulder where other rulers were lining up behind him.

Scott and Sausage nodded in polite accord, then Xornoth meandered over to the other side of the staircase. He accepted an offered glass of chilled cider and casually watched the rest of the typical proceedings as the herald announced each ruler in turn.

“The Codfather, Jimmy, of the Cod Empire!”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” Jimmy gushed as he bowed then looked the boys over. “This is real! You really both became fathers!” He grinned incredulously at Sausage and Scott, then composed himself. “Ahem. Greetings from the Cod Empire, young princes!” he announced in an exaggerated formal tone, then added quietly, “You make sure to give these two lots of trouble. Do it for me, your Uncle Jimmy!”

“You’re not their uncle!” Sausage hissed quietly, “Get out of here, Jimmy!”

The Codfather bowed again but also traded grins with Sausage as he moved aside.

“Blaze Emperor Tango, of the Tek variety!”

The boys couldn’t help staring at the flame-haired man, whose crown appeared to be made of floating staves that seemed almost molten – or, at the least, were glowing. “Ohhh, these are princes! They’re like mini-kings! I get it now!” There was glee in Tango’s red eyes with their closely-matching red sclera as he leaned closer, then he sharply drew back. “Oh, sorry, I’m forgetting the overworld etiquette. Hi! Nice to meet you! Greetings from, ummm, the Burning Dark!” He started to bow, then took another step back and bowed fully, avoiding any of his flames getting too close to the royal family. After they nodded politely back to him, he jogged off after Jimmy.

“Count fWhip of the Grimlands!”

“Hi, hi! Hello, young princes! Sausage, I can’t believe you pulled this off, it’s so fancy! Good to know you haven’t broken my best work while running around playing, as I’m sure you’ve been doing!” fWhip gave a wink then said in a more serious voice, “I’ll take a look at it later, just in case. I can only assume you haven’t broken it yet.”

Sausage made a shooing motion with both hands to prove the prosthetic one was working just fine. As fWhip began to move away, Sausage leaned between the boys to mutter, “This is one of the parts I hate. It’s boring standing here, and you have to be polite while listening to all sorts of nonsense like that. I think it’s easier to just chat out on the floor if someone has something to say, instead of all this blah-blah-blah.”

Scott nudged him, then outright pulled him back into place. “We can complain later. Do I really need to tell you to be the one to behave, Sausage?”

The human laughed behind the back of his hand, then cleared his throat. “No, no. I’ll set a good example. Serious time, boys. Well, serious but polite.”

“The Wizard GeminiTay of the Crystal Cliffs!”

Gem’s eyes twinkled as she stepped up. “Oh, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you, Azahar and Elowen! You look like such a proper family standing together like this! I hope Sausage hasn’t been embarrassing you too much with his recklessness. Sausage, you better not be getting them involved in your recklessness, either!”

Sausage huffed. “Is everyone just going to poke fun at me this whole night? This is a special event for my sons! You stop embarrassing me in front of them! Now go tell everyone behind you to not bring up anything else! My god!”

Gem laughed at his supposed outrage. Encouraged by her reaction, Elowen found some of his nerve. “Yeah, don’t pick on my papa! He’s been super nice to us! And he makes sure we don’t do anything dangerous! He only lets Azahar use the practice swords, and—”

Gem gently laughed again, then bowed to him. “I believe you, Prince Elowen. And I expect you to be just as outspoken when you come to my school for further magic lessons.”

Realizing the outburst might have been out of line, Elowen shrank back a little, but Scott put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him.

“PearlescentMoon of Gilded Helianthia!”

“Hello, boys,” the farmer queen greeted, her tone warm but mischief in her eyes.

“Pearl,” Scott said warily, “I know that look of yours. You’re up to something.”

“Why would I be up to something?” she replied with a cheeky smile.

“You brought them battle axes or two-handed swords, didn’t you, Pearl?” Scott accused flatly, although the corners of his mouth betrayed amusement.

“Well, it’s never too early to consider their favorite type of defense,” Pearl explained. She smiled at each of the boys in turn. “That aside, it’s a pleasure to meet you. If Sausage ever gets too soft on you with training, you can come battle with me.”

“Um,” Elowen replied, “I’m learning magic. I’m not old enough for real swords anyway.”

“Thank you, Auntie Pearl,” Azahar said, deciding to test out the familiar title even though this was the first time they had met. “Maybe we can talk about it after I move up from practice swords.”

“Calling me ‘aunt’ already! That’s honestly very sweet of you, Prince Azahar. We can definitely talk more in a bit, and I’ll give you some tips on the weak spots in your dads’ fighting styles.”

“Pearl!” Sausage scolded, “Didn’t you hear what I told Gem? And just because I lost my sword arm doesn’t mean I have weak spots! Come on, now!”

He continued to grumble as Pearl went on her way. Scott patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’re not bored now.”

“If I didn’t have to stand here, I’d go get some food.” Sausage then whined, “Can we get rid of this tradition, too, in the future? This part isn’t fun, right, boys?”

“Actually,” Azahar said with some mischief of his own, “It kind of is.” Elowen covered his mouth with both hands to hide his laugh.

“Oh, fine,” Sausage responded with a gusty sigh. “Since it’s for you, I’ll let everyone keep teasing me. I bet they’ll tell you all sorts of stories about me when I’m not around, anyway. Just remember, your papa is a brave adventurer!”

Pixlriffs offered a laugh, too, as he stepped forward despite their discussion drowning out the herald announcing him. “That is what I’ve heard.” He, at least, bowed low. “Your majesties. It’s lovely to meet you, Prince Azahar and Prince Elowen. I see bright things ahead for the future of Mythland with such lively young people ready to follow in their parent’s footsteps.” He leaned in to whisper, “Although, maybe be a little more careful and don’t lose a limb on your journey.”

“Not you too, Pix!!” Sausage squawked.

The Copper King grinned. “This could be a new tradition for you. Keep Lord Sausage humble so he doesn’t start bragging so much at parties.”

“I’m taking notes,” Sausage warned. “And so far, the guest list for the next party is getting shorter! Unless the boys want to invite someone, so you better be nice to them, at least!”

Azahar whispered to Elowen, “I think he really is going to throw people in the dungeon.” Elowen giggled, but when Pix was literally overshadowed by the next person in line, the boys took on looks of awe as their gazes went up, and up…

Elowen was so stunned that he blurted, “G-Giant blue fish lady!”

The equally overshadowed man with a green streak in his hair standing next to the smiling sea queen corrected, “Giant blue axolotl lady, actually.”

The herald’s announcement made it over their chatting this time. “Queen Lizzie of the Ocean Empire and her husband, King Joel of Mezalea!”

Lizzie didn’t seem to mind the mix up. “Hello, tiny princes,” she said, sounding a little awkward, herself. “It is nice to meet such good new additions to the Mythland monarchy. I wish you well in all your endeavors.” She bowed without even reaching low enough for them to see the top of her head.

Joel followed with a bow of his own. “Well, I don’t think I can beat the formality of that! Hello, lads, nice to meet you. Remind your dads to tell you how rich Mezalea is!”

“Joel,” Scott said with a patronizing smile, “Rivendell is known for its gold as well.”

“Scott, we’re not in Rivendell,” Joel fired back. “What does Mythland have? Iron. You know what’s pretty common? Iron. Gold is rarer and more beautiful! Also, if we’re going to talk Rivendell, there is wool. You know what wool is if you try to build with it? Susceptible to fire. What does Mazelea have? Terracotta. It doesn’t catch fire and comes in just as many colors as wool, and—”

Lizzie quickly interrupted to rein in her husband. “Now, now. No arguing between empires today. We need to set a good example for these potential future rulers. It wouldn’t be good to make enemies when neither my empire or yours have an heir yet, Joel.”

Sausage resisted the urge to step between Scott and Joel. “I think enemies might be a strong word. A little friendly competition between empires is fine, right? Mythland does well with imports of dark prismarine and terracotta, after all!”

Joel sighed and muttered, “Right, right. I was only saying that Mazelea has rich culture that these nice young lads might like to hear about.” He held a hand out to Lizzie regardless of actually being able to reach her hand. “We shall take our leave since we are taking up too much of your time at the moment. Come along, dear wife, we shall sample some of the food.”

The royal family watched them walk away with mixed amused looks at Joel’s parting tone.

The boys’ attention was next drawn down as the herald announced, “Guardian Shrub of the Undergrove!” Neither of them had met a gnome before, nor a fairy as Katherine closely followed.

Scott glanced around when it seemed Katherine was the end of the line. He murmured to Sausage, “Where’s Joey? I know he sort-of falls under ‘other’ on the invitations, but he should still be following ruler obligations and giving greetings.”

“Um. I think he got a little distracted by something else.” Sausage held his right hand up to block his left from everyone else’s view as he pointed to the other side of the staircase, where Xornoth and Joey were chatting away over drinks. Sausage uttered a short giggle. “Maybe some things don’t change—”

Scott quickly elbowed him to shush him, but no one else noticed their exchange since the boys were busy marveling over Katherine’s wings.

“So, you have them all the time?” Azahar was asking. “You don’t need a magic tattoo or flight gadget?”

“Nope,” Katherine answered, fluttering her wings so that they could see how they were different from the bird-like wings created by elven magic. Shrub had remained to watch the demonstration.

“Th-They’re really pretty,” Elowen stammered, internally hoping he wasn’t saying anything out of line.

Katherine smiled at him. “Why thank you, Prince Elowen.” She then snuck a glance at Shrub before stepping aside to be facing Azahar, while Shrub moved to face Elowen. They curtsied at the same time, then Shrub asked, “Would your highnesses do us the pleasure of having the first dance with us?”

The question – or perhaps being officially addressed in such a way – broke through Azahar’s sturdy calm and now he was the one to stammer. “U-Um, we would – we would be…” He looked to his parents for a cue, but they were distracted by Xornoth and a winged man who hadn’t been announced by the herald, but had the bearing of someone important.

Or self-important. He was currently complaining that since he hadn’t been let to the front of the line, seeing as how he was such a great ally to Mythland, he found it insulting to have to stand as last in line.

Azahar mustered up a serene smile and placed one hand on his chest, sweeping the other out at his side as he bowed. “We would be honored, your ladyship, your guardianship.” He straightened and extended a hand to Katherine. Elowen stared at him for half a second, then hastily copied him, ending with a hand held out to Shrub.

The movement of the boys heading out to the middle of the ballroom with the two leaders beside them seemed to be the perfect signal for the musicians to start the dance set. The sudden rise of a violin almost drew Sausage out of scolding Joey for not simply lining up at the same time as everyone else then maybe he would have been further up in the line and not at risk of having insulted his sons by not properly presenting himself, and Sausage had half a mind to throw him in the dungeon for an hour or two—

Further interruption came when Xornoth reached between the arguing pair to offer his hand to Joey. “If I might have this first dance, dear ruler of The Lost Empire?”

Joey tittered, feigning bashfulness. “Oh, my. Why yes, dear Monarch of Rivendell, I would be delighted.”

Scott and Sausage traded looks as if both were trying to hold in an outburst of laughter. They were – fortunately – distracted from their secret amusement by the approach of Pearl and Gem. Pearl simply grabbed Sausage by his left hand and hauled him toward the dance floor, while Gem took the politer, formal way by curtsying to Scott then holding out her hand. He also accepted and they followed the other two.

Sausage took note of Azahar and Elowen seeming to have a handle on everything alright on their own. Then he grinned at Pearl. They soon somehow managed to turn their dance into aggressive battle stances despite the tempo of the music.

Scott kept an amused eye on Sausage as much as he maintained a watchful one toward the boys, but so far it looked like they were having fun. From what he could tell, both Katherine and Shrub were accommodating the young elves’ inexperience with formal dances.

Meanwhile, Gem was being patient with his distracted state. She kept her palm pressed against his despite the swivel to his head. “They’re doing just fine,” she assured him. “I think you can relax a little. The rest of us are just as happy for you, and no one will get upset if they literally step on someone’s toes.”

“It isn’t the rulers I’m worried about,” Scott replied, finally returning his attention to her face, where a sympathetic smile awaited him. “I’m worried how either of them will react if that happens. I think Azahar can handle it, but Elowen gets nervous in crowded places full of strangers. He knows these are all responsible leaders here, but he has only just met everyone, and—”

“Scott. Calm down. Out of everyone here, Katherine and Shrub are probably going to have the most patience and kind words for the boys. Shrub knows how precious every child can be, and Katherine knows how best to nurture fragile life. Now, I’m not saying anyone in particular suggested they ask for the first dance, but there might have been some discussion ahead of time…”

Scott gave her a relieved smile. “Thank you, Gem. Maybe Sausage and I were more nervous about this than our boys were.”

“I could tell by how antsy Sausage looked during introductions.”

“I think that was just Sausage being Sausage,” Scott said with a chuckle.

“Has he been doing alright throughout this? No issues with the boys being too curious about his arm?”

“Sausage improvised in the moment and told them a dragon had eaten it. They were impressed that we fought one alongside our friends Gem and fWhip. No particular details about the dragon, of course.”

“Of course,” Gem agreed in a murmur. She quickly scanned the area. “I’ll pass that along to fWhip, but you know we’ll—"

“I know,” Scott cut her off as Jimmy and Tango happened to twirl too close. “I appreciate it, Gem.”

She nodded and smiled with a measure of bittersweetness, aware of how the children weren’t the only ones a secret was being kept from.

They finished the dance by bowing to each other, then Gem slipped away through the crowd of changing partners to find her brother. Scott turned to look for Sausage, but ended up with Xornoth holding up an outward-facing palm to him. They shared a grin and made exaggerated bows to each other before taking up positions to await the music.

Meanwhile, Jimmy had sidled up to Sausage, but it was merely to cut in and whisk Pearl away. Sausage took the moment to skim the crowd and check on his sons; he saw that they were now standing with Pix as Katherine and Shrub took their leave together. He smiled in relief, since it looked like the first dance had gone well for the boys.

Then he abruptly found an enthusiastic Tango popping up in his line of vision. The blaze hybrid started rambling about how amazing everything was, and that he would love to have the honor of dancing with one of the party’s hosts. Sausage agreed with a grin, happy that the newcomer was enjoying the social life of the surface world.

Three dance sets and some chatting with various emperors later, Azahar and Elowen stood by the grand staircase taking a break while simply watching the adults continue. Xornoth wandered over with a plate of tiny pastries and sat down on the steps beside them. “Hello again, nephews. How are you liking the gala so far?” He held the plate out to them, inviting them to help themselves to some desserts.

Elowen took one but before biting into it said, “It’s really fun! I thought it might be scary. Well, it was scary at first, being up on the stairs with everyone looking at us… But everyone has been nice. I’m not worried about messing up as a prince anymore.”

As he ate the pastry, Xornoth reached to pat him on the head, although being careful not to disturb his crown. “I’d say you’ve been very princely so far.” He then glanced to Azahar for his thoughts.

“It’s very different from what we were used to in our village back home – back in Rivendell,” Azahar replied, thoughtfully gazing around the ballroom. “The only thing we knew about royalty was what was in storybooks.” He then grinned at Xornoth. “No one said silly things about the kings in those stories. Everyone treats Papa like they know he gets into trouble all the time. But they’ve had good things to say about him, too – and about Dad. So, I feel like I’ve been able to learn from this, making it more than just a very fancy party. It’s been nice to meet so many different people from other empires. When I get older I’d like to go see all the places everyone is from, and hear their stories.”

“A fine goal,” Xornoth replied with approval. “Perhaps one day you could be Mythland’s ambassador.”

Azahar rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know yet if I want a… royal position like that. Dad said I can just be a kid for now and not worry about having a job as a prince.”

His adopted uncle nodded as he munched on a pastry. “Wise words. My brother isn’t half-bad at this parental guidance thing.” He offered the plate to them again.

After taking one and chewing it pensively, Azahar inquired, “Do you… mind if I ask what you know about Papa’s grandfather? He hasn’t talked about any other family much. This was the first we had heard of him. And… if it’s okay… yours and Dad’s parents, too?”

Xornoth smiled gently. “I suppose I can tell you a little. I’m not sure how much of it is my place to tell; your papa might share the stories with you when he’s ready.” He placed a splayed hand against the center of his chest. “Our parents went on a diplomatic mission to another elven kingdom across the world, leaving me in charge as eldest son. Now, as for the Infamous Z. Kielbasa – the ‘Z’ is silent – he was very strict about proper behavior and tradition, which is probably why your papa is so mischievous…”

He regaled them with his assorted knowledge for over half an hour, including little hints about Sausage’s adventures, and was just about to share embarrassing accounts of Scott trying to get a handle on his ice magic when Joey sauntered over.

“Hello, Xorny… I was wondering if you’d like to dance some more – with me.” The ruler of The Lost Empire then blinked as if only just now realizing Azahar and Elowen were there. “Oh, riiight, these are your… nephews. Look, I’m not good with children, okay? But, um, it is nice to meet you, I guess.” Joey took the plate from Xornoth and pressed it into Elowen’s hands. “Here, have more snacks, and… have fun over here. Bye~”

Xornoth found himself being pulled to his feet and back toward the dance floor. He managed a small wave, which Azahar returned while Elowen stared after the pair as he absently ate another pastry. “That was… kind of weird.”

Azahar laughed and grabbed the remaining two pastries before Elowen devoured them all. “I think that parrot-man has a crush on Uncle Xornoth.”

“Is that what a crush looks like? How can you tell?”

“Just a guess.”

The two princes went back to watching until Shrub came over and asked Elowen to dance with her again. Azahar entertained the thought that she was being considerate of how the younger boy would be comfortable dancing with someone close to his own height. Azahar himself turned down an invitation from Pearl, who nodded in respect and looked for someone else who was available.

Azahar then wandered over to the group of musicians and stood where he figured he might be the least obtrusive as he observed the way in which the violinist brought forth melodies from the strings.

He got a little too caught up in it, because he didn’t register when the set changed to a slower tempo, nor did he pay attention as dance partners switched to a majority of the romantic partners in the group – until Elowen began tugging at his sleeve while saying in a hushed voice, “Azahar! Look at Dad and Papa!”

The older boy looked to where his brother was indicating. He saw Scott and Sausage in the middle of the floor with a hand on each other’s waist, their other hands clasped together, and dreamy smiles on their faces as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Azahar smiled softly. Elowen leaned against him as they kept watching, enchanted, then he whispered, “If the other thing was what a crush looks like, I think this is what being in love looks like.”

“Yes,” Azahar agreed. “I think they love each other very much.” He hugged Elowen around the shoulders with one arm. As the set wound down, he reached for Elowen’s hand and stepped out onto the floor. “Come on,” he said with a persuasive smile. The two slipped between the other couples and came to a halt where they could beam up at their parents.

Sausage glanced at them first; he removed his hand from Scott’s waist and held it out to Azahar. Scott then did the same with his hand held toward Elowen, and as the musicians switched to an upbeat set, the four of them danced together.

It wasn’t clear who started the chain, but soon all of the others had linked hands and were dancing in a circle around the royal family. Xornoth broke away from it to put himself between his nephews, and he smiled with fraternal love at his brother while mouthing the words, “Here’s to a new future.”

~*~

After another round of official traditions in the form of bidding each guest a good night, the boys took their leave to get ready for bed. Azahar held his crown between both hands, getting a better look at it. He gazed at the swords crossed over the jewel before placing it in front of the row of books on the dresser. “I forgot to ask if there’s a proper way to store these for the night. I don’t know what Papa does with his crown.”

Elowen giggled. “His doesn’t look like it would be comfortable to sleep with it on.” He held his crown up so Azahar could put it next to his.

The older boy gazed at the two crowns side-by-side and smiled softly. “It’s almost like we’re in a fairytale of our own. Two little boys from out in the countryside chosen to be princes of a foreign land.”

“We could write our own story and put it in a book!”

“Maybe someday. Let’s wait to see what other adventures we have. You’ve got a chance to become an amazing ice wizard – unless there’s something else you’d like to do?”

Elowen hopped up onto his bed and looked thoughtful for a moment. “Not really. Dad said there is a lot to know about using magic, and I know it’s gonna take me time to learn all of it! What about you? Do you wanna do something besides learn sword stuff?”

“I was thinking of something… but I guess it can wait…”

Elowen leaned back on his hands and regarded his brother critically. “Azahar, are you nervous about something?”

“Um, what makes you say that?” The older boy tried to be casual as he adjusted the position of his crown on the shelf.

“I just… kinda get this feeling, like… you’re acting in a way I’ve never seen you act before.”

Azahar chuckled lightly. “You’ve caught me. Well…” He sat down on his own bed. “You know how Dad has his magic, and Papa is a good sword fighter? I’m thinking of something we haven’t seen them do, so I’m not sure how I would learn, or if it would be a bother because they like to spend time with us with magic and sword lessons.”

Elowen needed to think that one over. He eventually nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Are you gonna tell me what it is?”

“Maybe wait until I ask them so we’re not both disappointed,” Azahar admitted sheepishly.

Elowen jumped down and ran over to hug Azahar around his middle. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll say yes! You did a really good job at being a prince today! You could even ask for it for your birthday!”

Azahar hugged him in return. “I hadn’t thought of that. That’s a good idea. Thanks, little brother.” They parted and grinned at each other.

“You’re welcome, big brother!”

~*~

Azahar waited to make his request for a solid three weeks before Elowen egged him on enough to finally ask. He chose one of the days where he and Sausage were having a lesson – and, he had to confess, one where Azahar threw himself into it with unexpected ferocity due to nerves. When their practice fight ended in a draw, father and son took a moment to rest beside the weapons rack before Sausage stowed his blade and took out two drying cloths, tossing one to Azahar so he could wipe the sweat from his brow.

Sausage patted at his own face, then disconnected his prosthetic to allow some air to flow around the cuff protecting his stump. He laid the prosthetic on top of the cabinet containing the cloths. “That was a great match! I think with a little more practice you’ll be able to defeat me! And once that happens, you can move up to training with Pearl. I have to warn you, she won’t go easy on you like I have!” He winked and grinned.

“Actually, um…” Azahar contemplated the cloth in his hands, then glanced at the weapons rack – where Pearl’s gift of a two-handed broadsword awaited the right time and the gain of strength. “I think I would like to take a break from having only sword lessons. I was wondering, um, if it would be alright to ask, um…”

Sausage started to look at him with concern. “You can always ask me anything! Is – Is everything okay? Does it feel like the lessons are too hard? We can scale it back if you need to! You don’t have to fight Pearl any time soon, either! I was just joking about that.” Sausage laughed awkwardly, then cleared his throat. “Sorry. You’re, uh, not usually this hesitant.”

Azahar uttered a nervous laugh of his own. “Y-You’re right.” He took a deep breath. “Papa, since my birthday is next month, I wanted to – well, I would like to – ask for something specific instead of having it be a surprise. Well, I guess two things. And I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so I’m not trying to be impulsive, and I don’t think you would have to worry about me losing interest and wasting time or money on it, or…”

Sausage nodded eagerly to show his support, eyes wide and with an also broadening smile. “Go ahead, tell me! What new interest do you have?”

Azahar continued, “At the gala, I really enjoyed listening to the violin music. May I… have a violin, and could you have someone teach me how to play…?”

Sausage hopped on his toes and moved his arms to clap his hands – but forgot for a second that he had removed his prosthetic, and so he stopped short, staring, as his left hand crossed in the air with nothing alongside his outheld stump. “Ah – heheh.” He retrieved his prosthetic and pointed it at Azahar. “You absolutely may! I’ll contact the court musicians to see if someone is available to be your tutor, and if not, surely we can find someone – even if we have to bring them all the way from Mazelea!”

“Thanks, Papa. I’ll work hard to learn just like with your lessons. W-We can still have sword lessons because I love spending the time with you, but I would like to try new things, too.”

“Of course, of course!” Sausage agreed, attempting to re-affix his prosthetic while fidgeting around, his body simply on automatic gesticulation mode as he talked. “You and your brother can explore anything that interests you! It doesn’t have to always be things Dad and I do, but it worked out so nicely that they can bond over ice magic! You and I could have found something else to do together, too, if you weren’t interested in sword-fighting! Botany for one thing, or alchemy, or a little bit of engineering. I can’t rely on fWhip for help with this thing forever! But don’t you go feeling pressured to learn that, either! I can learn new things, too!”

“Papa—”

“Yes, sorry— see, this is exactly what I mean. Sometimes it’s a little finnicky when I put it on by myself. I need to talk to fWhip about that when he does the next upgrade…” Sausage seemed to be having trouble holding his stump at the correct angle to slip the prosthetic into place without it catching on the fabric cuff.

“Papa, let me help.” Azahar took hold of the prosthetic by the forearm section. He smiled gently at Sausage. “Elowen and I can do things for you, too.”

Sausage chuckled softly. “I’ve gotten used to relying on Dad. Thank you, son.” He held still and instructed Azahar on the best way to fit the inside basket structure over the fabric cuff. Once it was settled in place, he flexed the fingers then lowered his arms. “The Winter Market opens in a few days. I think I know just the booth we can stop by for a finely crafted violin!”

~*~

As promised, once the market had opened and Sausage had enough free time, the four of them went on a nice outing to peruse the wares with the eventual intention of buying a violin for Azahar. Elowen kept close to Scott’s side this time, since Sausage was the one most familiar with the craftspeople of the market. The younger boy tried not to be too clingy, but Scott would gently squeeze anytime Elowen started to grip his hand too tightly.

When they found the booth, there was a lengthy explanation of how the type of wood that was used to make an instrument affected its sound, then the craftswoman played a few of the different ones she had for sale so Azahar could decide which he liked best. She even let him try the one he chose right there at the booth, giving him a brief introductory lesson and helping him to hold the bow correctly before he ventured into coaxing notes from the strings.

Azahar handled it as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, but the craftswoman assured him that once he had established his connection with the instrument he would understand its limits. Elowen watched and listened with fascination, although he kept his hands in tight fists against his legs, similarly terrified of breaking something by accident.

Scott and Sausage looked on, happy with how joyful and excited Azahar appeared regardless of how cautious he was handling the violin. They were all too aware of how he might have let this opportunity pass him by in order to ensure Elowen was the happier of the two.

There was plenty of chatter around them to override the sound of the violin, and Sausage was drawn to gaze at the surroundings, feeling content to see Mythland bustling with so much life and activity.

Yet, his attention automatically snapped toward a young voice calling out, “Papa, I want that one!”

Across the lane was a booth selling cloth dolls. A little girl was jumping up and down while pointing at one that wore a frilly princess dress. A wistful expression fell over Sausage’s face as the girl’s father took the doll from the seller and handed it to her; she promptly hugged it tightly and thanked him.

Scott noticed that Sausage was distracted, and followed his line of sight. “Fatherhood has turned you sentimental. That’s quite a look you have in your eyes. What are you thinking…?”

Without glancing away from the father and daughter as they walked away with the girl holding the doll wrapped in one arm while holding her father’s hand with the other, Sausage asked, “Do you – Do you think the boys would like to have a sister?”

~*~

That evening they had a family discussion wherein the boys agreed that having another sibling could be fun, and arrangements were made for another trip to Rivendell the following month. The carriage – and the two kings – would go without royal adornments to distance themselves from too much influence again.

When that day arrived, Azahar and Elowen waved as the carriage set off from the stable yard. Sir Carlos and Bubbles, charged with keeping watch over the princes, waited on the steps into the castle, allowing the boys to take their time and mentally adjust to their parents being away for the first time since they had come to Mythland.

Elowen was actually pondering a different question. “If I’m like Dad with magic, and you’ve been learning with Papa, what do you think our sister might end up like?”

“Maybe she’ll be like Bubbles.”

“No, that would be weird!”

Bubbles barked, sounding like she had taken offense at that comment. Azahar, meanwhile, laughed. “We’ll have to wait to find out. Come on, my violin tutor will be here soon. You can sit in on the lesson.”

“Yay! You know, even when you only practice a few notes, it’s so pretty to listen to.”

[To Be Continued in Chapter Three: The First Princess]

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jerseymuppet · 3 days

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i think your post abt how ppl that "dont like rap" but like hamilton+kpop is very well worded. have you ever seen FD Signifier ?? your points reminded me of a video he has on the white rapper phenomenon and hip hop history + the inherent colorism/racism at play with white rappers like vanilla ice, eminem etc getting famous for Black music. it's probably nothing you haven't heard before, but its still a good listen and really breaks down america's aversion to Black art.

Woah! I have not! Super interesting I’ll have to check it out! It’s actually so funny because some of my favorite rappers now are Joey Valence & Brae who are a duo a lot of people find “very white” which is HILARIOUS because all of their influences are like. Biz markie and heavy D. I think the main difference between them and the eminems and vanilla ices is that they try to act like they invented the culture and actively spew the idea that they’re better. Which is. So bad. But JVB LOVE the culture and reference it Constantly and hold such a respect and reverence for it. Which is why I suspect people don’t like them. I think I’ve talked about this before but white peoples hatred of black people can extend to even white, pro black artists. Example: hozier, his work has been diminished and so far removed from its gospel and soul influences because people don’t want to acknowledge it. It’s. So strange.

#Not super eloquent and very late. But alas #Jude.answers

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 9 months

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Hello there! I wanna request something if that’s cool! 나 자신에 대해 말해줄게!

Fandom: I’d like a romantic matchup for Jujustu Kaisen, Ninjago & MHA (For JJK I don’t want to be matched with any of the minors and for MHA I don’t want to be matched up with any of the girls)

My name is Joey but I also go by Himawari, Rin or Magtanggol too! I’m Transgender (ftm), Aromatic, Polyamory, Unlabled, & Bisexual, I’ve been diagnosed with Autism, ADHD, Schizophrenia, BPD & OCD and im wasian (west-southeast asian and white), polish, arab, flipino, scottish & russian.

personality traits (and notes): extroverted, at first awkward, shy and distant when meeting people, extremely independent, when comfortable I talk about a lot of stuff for hours, loud talker, emotions come off as sarcastic or silly (due to autism), confident, straightforward (I have a urge to correct someone of faulty information), uses “big” words, good sense of humor, playful, entertaining, optimistic, mischievous, curious(I’m nosy and I love gossip), i can be a rule breaker(sometimes I don’t mean to), dad/tharapist friend, when I go out I bring water bottles, first aid kit, chapstick(s) just in case, chill but some people would say I have some “repressed anger issues”, I get a realllyyy overractive Brain, I tend to get deep and philosophical when I’m left on my own for to long, I can be verbally aggressive when prevoked, I have a hard time taking everything seriously, when someone yells at me I’ll turn very cold and aggressive very fast

hobbies: anime/manga, gaming, anthropology, pathology, zoology, music (I’m a vocaloid producer, i can rap like MILLI, i make odecore/breakcore/scenecore music and I make music like ATARASHII GAKKO, YOASOBI & Ado too), dancing, filmmaking, art (drawing, painting, pottery, digital art, etc), learning different instruments/languages, cosplaying, skateboarding, tabletop RPG’s, taking pictures of things that I think are pretty, collecting figurines/stuffed animals and puppetry, science/history, soccer/volleyball/basketball and swim, cooking/baking, art is definitely my main hobby I dedicate a lot of time to it

likes: vocaloid/utau, k-pop/j-pop, watching documentaries/youtube, decorating my room, iced coffee, boba tea, bread, sharks, cats, cold weather, Christmas music/christmas in general, musicals, cleaning, rhythm games, being with my friends, shopping, partys, mint candles, sweet and spicy food, deserts.

I'm a ENTP, 4w3 and a Aquarius ♒️

misc: I live in a mixed language house hold where I speak mostly polish and Arabic, and some Korean and Japanese, it world be nice if the person who I get can react to that lol, i know 6 languages (Japanese, Korean, Spanish, Arabic, Polish & French), prone to be a bit directionless in life, tries to find comfort and humor in hard times, tries not to take life to seriously, everytime I have a party there’s always dabke dancing and I take control of it all the time and it’s super fun!

appearance /aesthetic: 5'6 / 167.64 cm, midsize, rectangular body shape, i have a masculine and feminine face (somehow), dimple on chin, hazel eyes, wears glasses, dyed black boy hair, lots of piercings, no tattoos(I need some), for style, i wear a lot suck as goth (trad goth, romantic goth, mall goth, cyber goth, and victorian goth), gyaru (hime gal, himekaji, agejo, rokku, manba, banba, kogal, tsuyome, and kigurumi), scenemo/emo, & vkei ouji and lolita, i wear streetwear clothes mostly at home/school/work, i wear fishnets and combat boats/converse, but I also wear Y2K and I also dress in alternative clothing a LOT.

thank you so much! miłego dnia/lub nocy.

Hi Joey! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took a while. I hope you like your matchups!

In Jujutsu Kaisen, I match you with...

Gojo matches your extroverted energy flawlessly. But at the same time, everyone around is glad you’re there with your “chill dad friend” energy to combat his “chaotic wine aunt” vibes.

While he initially comes off as shallow, Gojo loves it when you get deep and philosophical. It gives him a chance to talk about serious topics that he otherwise wouldn’t get the chance to.

He feels like he can be himself when he’s with you and that means a lot to him.

Please speak different languages around him! He thinks it’s so cool. He’s convinced you’re always flirting with him, even if he has no clue what you’re really saying.

Feel free to mess with him in this regard. Say the most random and unhinged things in a flirtatious enough tone and he’s flirting back.

You can also occasionally switch it up and say something actually romantic just to keep him on his toes. He loves it!

Look at me and tell me this man isn’t a fan of vocaloid/k-pop/j-pop. He’s got his favourite songs but is always open to recommendations. He enjoys being able to dance around with you to his heart’s content.

In Ninjago, I match you with...

Jay’s another one who is fascinated by your ability to speak several languages. I feel like he only speaks English, and a tiny bit of Spanish that he learnt in high school.

You may need to find someone else if you want to have a deep philosophical conversation that is more than one-sided. But Jay is happy to listen if you’re happy to ramble.

He does his best to keep up with the conversation and will occasionally say something so profound, you may need to take a minute.

Skating dates! Jay is absolutely a skateboarder and he’s so happy you are as well. He enjoys clearing his head by going skating with you, somewhere out of the way so fans don’t bother you.

He also enjoys watching YouTube with you. He doesn’t really mind what you watch; he gets invested in anything and everything.

Jay loves your figurine and stuffed animal collection. He thinks it’s really cool. I can see him as someone who has a figurine collection of his own so he likes comparing what you each have. He’ll pick up new figurines of you when he’s out and has the time.

In My Hero Academia, I match you with...

Denki is absolutely a fan of vocaloid/k-pop/j-pop. He loves that type of music so much, especially the upbeat songs he can dance to.

Say anything in a different language and Denki is going to think you’re the smartest person on the planet. And then he’s running what you said through Google Translate so he knows what you said. The results are always interesting…

Much like Jay, I see Denki as someone who enjoys skateboarding. He likes being able to do cool tricks to impress you. Just make sure you take some Band-Aids.

When you go on skating dates, you’ll usually end up at a cafe somewhere. Denki’s also a fan of boba and he’s slowly working his way through the entire menu at his favourite boba place.

Loves playing games with you. Whether it’s tabletop RPGs, video games, or board games in general, he doesn’t mind.

He has a preference towards video games, but honestly, as long as he gets to spend time with you and have fun, he’s happy with anything.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #ninjago #jay walker #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #denki kaminari

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deadal3x · 1 year

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[BENDY AND THE FINAL CYCLE] Chapter One: The Moving Cycle

A bright white light.

Henry was comforted by it, he realized, as he waited to return to the old apartment. To restart the cycle anew, without Wilson’s influence, or Audrey’s fear looming around him and the others.

when the light faded, Henry’s guard was up; his hands grabbing for an axe that wasn’t there.

He was in the apartment, that the old animator could tell. but it was wrong.

The air hung heavily around him, the familiar stench of ink and death floated around him, almost choking him.

he walked further into the apartment, the dripping of the ink and the overall wrongness of it pushing him into a further state of caution that was almost dizzying.

Vines and other foliage had made their way into the house, overgrown and twisting around the broken furniture. sunlight spilled into the main room; warming Henry’s face in a way he hasn’t felt in so long

Henry sighed, his eyes closing as he took in the warmth. For a split moment, everything melted around him, and he swore he could smell the summer air; the fire crackling as someone roasted marshmallows over it.

His throat tightened as he thought he heard a familiar giggle.

he opened his eyes, and saw the dilapidated apartment around him- the smell hitting his nose all over again.

walking into the kitchen, Henry’s stomach twisted, bile rising in his throat when he looked to where Joey typically stood.

a rotted, unrecognizable corpse was in his spot, half fallen to the ground. Henry couldn’t look away, his sense of worry making his blood run ice cold.

Pulling himself away from the corpse, Henry tried opening the door into the cycle, desperate for the smell of his once good friend’s rotting flesh to leave his nose.

but the door didn’t open.

it was locked.

Henry’s mouth ran dry, and it felt like he was choking on sawdust. He saw the corpse out of the corner of his eye and the hairs on the back of his neck stood.

it had moved.

it was leaning against the counter, it’s head at a 90 degree angle to the left. Henry’s stomach flipped as he watched the skeletal arm lift, pointing to the door. a stone of realization settled deep within his gut; the door opening easily as it did.

the Cycle’s script still needed someone to tell Henry to visit the studio. It hadn’t accommodated for Joey’s death. Henry heard the door click shut behind him, and he allowed himself a moment to relax, feeling his stomach churning as he stumbled down the hall.

Collapsing into a chair, it creaked under the sudden weight. Henry sighed, running his hand down his face. Taking a breath, he steeled himself, and stood.

The studio hadn’t been affected by whatever… that was in Joey’s apartment, Henry realized. A few out of place things had been scattered about, but the so-to-speak First Act of his hell was relatively untouched.

Henry found himself going through the motions of it subconsciously. He collected the items, each weighed strangely heavy in the bag he made for himself back over a hundred cycles ago.

The Book, The Doll, The Wrench, The Gear, The Inkwell, and The Record

Each placed on their respectful podiums, Henry sighed, and wandered towards the screening room, turning the valve for the ink pressure. The studio rumbled, and the pipe in the room burst, the flooding ink drowning out the-

wait.

Henry turned, and realized the whistling bendy reel wasn’t making sound. it was playing, he had heard the projector click on, but the whistling tune that played alongside was gone. Huh, he thought, wading through the ink. strange. He decided not to think too much of it, and found himself flipping the lever that turned the machine on.

The studio groaned to life, the subtle rumbling of the Ink Machine made Henry sigh. His relief to escape the Cycle-Breaker’s prison was short-lived by the realization of returning to a false sense of normal.

Returning to watch as the people he trusted, cared for, or even allied with briefly forgot him with each new cycle.

Shaking his head, he found himself face to face with the boarded up room that held the ink machine. he scowled and stepped closer—bracing himself for the scare.

it never came, the first appearance of the Ink Demon, screaming in his face with its wide, shaky grin. Henry could see it in his mind; the clawed hand reaching for him as he fell back. The studio still reacted as if the Demon was there, rumbling and flooding with no sign of stopping. Henry ran, towards the exit, where the floor gave way underneath him- plunging him further into the studio.

Henry sighed, standing in the pool of ink. He wasted no time draining each pipe, making his way towards the so-called second act. Henry had the timing of things down pretty well before Wilson had frozen everything in place. He couldn’t even remember if Boris had been taken by Alice or not when the ex-janitor arrived. Shaking his head, Henry grabbed the axe, the weight and familiarity of the weapon giving him a sense of much-needed security. He sighed, walking towards the room full of coffins, remembering the names that was scrawled across the covers of each of them. he sighed, standing in the room, realizing another strange change.

I usually pass out here, he thought, staring at the strange pentagram like circle beneath him. What is happening? Henry moved towards the door, his axe raised defensively as he reached for the doorknob.

Before he could grab it, the knob shook, and turned. Henry held his breath, slowly backing away as the door swung opened.

His breath caught in his throat, taking in the sight of the stranger on the other side.

A rather built man, with blonde hair stood staring at him; his ice blue eyes glaring daggers into him. The man’s facial expression was soured, as he watched Henry move closer. Henry saw the somewhat permanent damage the ink had done to him, stains on his hands and around his lips made the animator shiver as he realized who it was.

“Sammy..?” Henry questioned, his voice soft. “Is that really you?” The man standing across from him scoffed, rolling his eyes. He crossed his arms across his chest, his once beloved bendy mask in hand.

“Of course, have you gone insane?” Sammy said, his ever-present attitude dripping from his words. “Honestly, Little Sheep, I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me.” he shook his head, and Henry cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” Henry said, lowering his axe. “I didn’t think there would be changes so soon.” he explained, watching as Sammy’s expression twisted into one of confusion.

“Changes?” He mused, looking at the mask. “I don’t think I’ve encountered any changes; aside from the much needed silence in my mind,” Sammy explained, looking back up at Henry. the old animator smiled, a strange feeling; as he held up the gleaming axe blade to the music director, the reflective surface revealing the man has his face back. Sammy dropped the mask, his hands shakily touching his head.

“Oh,” he whispered. “that’s my face..” He looked at Henry, his ice blue eyes full of confusion and fear. “I suppose I have encountered these changes, Little Sheep.”

“If you don’t have the ink demon whispering in your head,” Henry said, lowering the axe once again. “why do you still call me that?” He questioned, moving past Sammy- further into the music department.

“I…” The music director wet his lips, his expression unreadable. Henry watched as it twisted into his typical sour expression, his ice blue eyes holding upset and anger.

“My name’s Henry, In case you’ve forgotten.” Henry prompted, stopping just outside the recording room. “you wanna open your sanctuary so we can drain that ink?” The old animator prompted, moving towards the projector booth.

“I don’t see how that’s necessary,” Sammy said. “I usually knock you out and bring you somewhere once you do that,” he explained, causing Henry to reach for the back of his head. “But now that things have changed, I can just bring you there.” He stated, walking towards a door.

“Oh, right. That makes sense.” Henry said, watching as Sammy opened a once locked door, leading him into the familiar room.

A room he was once almost sacrificed in, 414 times. Henry sighed, and glanced over to Sammy wearily; a little on edge as the music director walked towards the large door on the other side of the room.

“I’m guessing you escape through here,” he said, slightly upset. “I don’t actually see you escape, seeing as…” He scowled, and shook his head. “Never mind that, let me grab my banjo and we can press on!” He shouted, causing Henry to flinch.

“shh!” Henry said, putting a finger to his lips. “We don’t know what’s out there still, it’s best to stay quiet.” He looked nervous as he watched Sammy wave his hand dismissively, grabbing his beloved instrument.

“I know the Demon’s gone,” He said, walking back towards Henry. “I don’t know about…the angel.” he spat the last word, his face twisted into an expression of anger. “we’ll find out the hard way, I suppose.”

Henry sighed, realizing Sammy had no idea about Boris. No idea what’s bound to happen to him if Alice wasn’t changed like he was.

the two pressed forward, and eventually, made their way past the familiar door, the wooden barricade falling into place as it closed behind Sammy. the can of bacon soup rolled out across from them and Henry relaxed.

“Hello?” He said. “Who’s there, show yourself.” Boris walked out, his cartoonish mouth twisted into something akin to a wolfish grin. “Boris..” Henry sighed, glancing at Sammy. the music director stared at the toon with wide eyes.

“Hiya Henry!” Boris said. Henry’s eyes widened, and he felt tears forming. “I have my voice back now, isn’t that cool?” Henry nodded, pulling the toon into a hug.

“you can speak! that’s amazing, buddy!” Henry allowed himself to celebrate for a moment, turning to Sammy. “he used to not be able to talk, this is a new change.”

“That’s…wonderful.” Sammy said, still staring at Boris. “the angel-”

“is where we will go after spending sometime in Buddy’s safe-house. I usually play some cards with him and get some sleep before heading to heavenly toys.” Sammy didn’t seem to catch onto Henry’s interruption, and continued talking about Alice.

“-will want him for her experiments” Sammy finished, pointing to Boris. “She’s evil like that.”

“I know.” Henry said, his expression hardening. his tone was suddenly serious despite the tears that shined in his eyes. “Let’s get somewhere safe so she doesn’t spot him.” Henry’s voice was stern. The old animator watched as Sammy nodded, finally catching on. the three walked the short distance to Boris’s safe-house, the door sliding shut behind them.

“Alright, I don’t want to stay here too long, I need to get my bearings and know exactly how much Audrey has changed for us.” Henry explained, watching as Boris took his spot at the small table. Sammy waved him off once again, and took a spot in a corner, banjo in hand. Henry sighed, sitting across from Boris; resting his axe against the foot of his chair.

“we don’t have to stay too long here,” Boris said, handing the deck of cards to the animator. “I know what’s ahead, and it’s different than before…”

“Different?” Henry questioned, setting up the poker game. Boris nodded, checking his cards.

“there’s less screamin’ than I remember. it’s..” Boris looked nervous. “It’s not as scary. There’s also more people out there.” He explained, as he won the first game of the night. He made an excited sort of growling sound, grabbing the soup can off the table.

“Did you get a good look at any of them? Like.. Are they lost ones or..?” Henry pushed, dealing out a new game. Boris shrugged, his expression relaxing.

“There’s another me, another Alice. they looked confused but they had the mean Alice, and she..” Boris glanced at Sammy, who was plucking away at his banjo. “She sounded worried.”

“worried?” Henry dropped his cards, forgetting about the game. he did notice he had won, but shook his smug smile off his face. “what does that mean?”

“She was askin’ about you, and Mr. Lawrence. the other Alice called her-”

”Susie?” Sammy was listening now, his banjo forgotten in his lap. “was it Susie?” Boris nodded, turning to him.

“yea! how’d you know?” Boris looked a bit confused, as he waited for Henry to deal another game. “anyways, she was also asking why heavenly toys was changed into a Gent corp. factory-” The old animator stood, grabbing the axe.

“We have to go check this out, something’s wrong.” He said, watching as Sammy stood without question. “Come on buddy, I’ll keep us safe.” Boris stood, and let them out of the safe-house. Henry sighed, leading the group towards heavenly toys, his mind racing.

Audrey wouldn’t have put Gent in such a strange spot, he thought, grabbing the flashlight. She wouldn’t have put gent anywhere, he realized, as they made it to their destination.

“Henry!” Allison smiled, standing at the bottom of the steps. “there you are.” She walked over to him, Tom following quickly behind. Henry went to go speak, but was cut off.

“Where’s Susie?” Sammy’s voice came from behind Henry, sounding almost desperate. “Susie?” he called for her, his banjo clutched tightly in his hand.

“Sammy!” at the top of the stairs stood a rather tall Alice angel. her halo floated just above her head, Henry saw. He stared, seeing how her malformed face was somewhat fixed. she had scarring, as if it was an injury. She ran down the steps, into Sammy’s arms.

“Oh Susie..” Sammy whispered, pulling away from her; looking at her with wide eyes. “you look wonderful.” The angel giggled, twirling in her spot.

“Thank you.” She sighed. the two talked softly, Sammy’s soft nature shining through the more they conversed.

Henry sighed, counting the group. five people. too many. He looked away from Susie and Sammy, focusing on Allison and Tom.

“I heard from Buddy, I had to come check it out..” He looked up, and felt his heart drop. instead of the rather large ‘Heavenly Toys’ sign, in it’s spot was a rather industrial and ugly sign.

‘property of Gent Corps.’ Henry scoffed, his grip on the axe tightening. “Can’t ever catch a single break, can we Allison..?” He muttered. she shook her head, holding out a familiar tool.

The Seeing Tool, he had called it. he had forgotten about it when it was taken as contraband by the Keepers. He held it tightly, seeing the golden ink glowing through it. he sighed, and strapped it to his belt, his darkened expression scanning the room.

“We’re sitting ducks out in the open…” Henry muttered, his mind racing. “We don’t know what’s wrong-”

“But something’s definitely wrong.” Tom spoke, his voice a low growl. “We were scouting when we found Ms. Campbell staring at the sign. she was crying.” Henry nodded, grateful that Tom also received his voice back.

“I don’t think Gent’s sudden appearance is Audrey’s doing,” Allison said, watching as Sammy and Susie reunited. “She fixed the Prophet and The Angel and even gave Tom and Buddy voices again but…” Allison sighed, hand gripping the handle of her sword.

“The only big difference is the Ink Demon is gone, and Gent’s sudden influence.”

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