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tiip2ydoodles · 6 years

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Anamnesis

I’m so excited to finally unveil this MASSIVE story I wrote for @beforuszine! It was so much fun to work alongside everyone in the project and I’m really happy with the way it turned out.

Download the Zine [HERE] and see the rest of the artwork! Everyone did an amazing job and I hope I get to work on more projects with them in the future! 😻😻😻

The sun rose slowly over the horizon at five thirty-two in the morning, painting the cream walls of a small apartment bedroom a warm peachy color.

With the sun’s rays came a lazy, sluggish sort of heat, a humidity and warmth that thickened the air and stopped the wind. The heat rolled across the pavement outside the apartment and onto the grass, carried by the sun’s rising light that turned the sky a soft orange, then pink, then finally a vibrant blue. The open curtains shifted with the meager wind that managed to fight its way through the muggy morning heat, whispering as the soft material rubbed against itself, almost silent.

Certainly inaudible to the two trolls that occupied the room.

The king-size bed shoved into a corner held them both, curled up around one another, clutching tightly. Legs tangled together, hands gripped at baggy, rolled-up pajama shirts. Grey skin flushed yellow and teal with the warmth of the sun and the soft breaths that spread across neck and cheek alike. One twitched, mumbling something tiredly, and the other drew closer as if to silence them.

That silence would stay until precisely five forty-five.

The tinkling chime of a phone alarm began at exactly the minute mark. A thunderous vibration rattled across the nightstand that silenced the birds outside and sent them all aflutter to escape the horrid drone. Wake up! The screen of the phone read.

A groan rose from one of the pair. The sound of shifting blankets signalled untangling limbs, jerky movements from the tired bodies that as of yet were unaccustomed to wakefulness. Four horns poked themselves from under the blankets, attached to one impressively tousled head of hair. Its owner reached up a spider-like hand, nails painted red and bitten to the quick, and ran it across his scalp as if this would somehow tame the tangles that sleep had gifted him. Instead, all it did was get his hand caught.

“Son of a bitch!”

His voice was louder even than the still-ringing alarm, sharp and lisping. At its sound a sleepy mumble rose from the pair of pointed cone horns buried under the blankets beside him. The other troll of the inseparable pair roused, sitting up and getting a good look at her surroundings. Seeing her mate in his predicament she smiled tiredly, carefully pulled the tangled hand from its trap. Unlike him, her nails remained unpainted and neatly trimmed, as well taken care of as the rest of her.

“Shhhh. You’ll scare the birds.” Latula murmured in a sleep-husky voice. A low grunt left her as she stretched, arching her back and shivering in satisfaction as it pops back into place. The tinkling chime of the phone began to annoy her and she reached over to shut it off.

Mituna, the tousle-haired yellowblood, buries his face into her shoulder, still clearly too groggy to even consider leaving the bed. She chuckles softly and wraps her arms around his waist, leaning as much into him as he is into her. If either one of them were to move away from their position now, the other would surely fall.

“I’ll scare your birds in a minute.” He replies, muffled against her skin.

She laughs and ruffles his hair, careful of the tangles. “Sure you will. Come on, it’s time to get up.”

“Hell no.”

Latula frowned and carefully shifted to give Mituna her best disappointed face. Knowing exactly what was coming, he turned his scarred eyes down and away, refusing to meet her gaze. After all, the look wasn’t there if he couldn’t see it, right?

“Mituna.” She said sternly. Even he can’t ignore the sound of her voice. He groans, nuzzling himself into her chest, pushing her back onto the bed and wrapping his arms around her. He squeezes tightly and refuses to let go, whining. “Mituna, oof - come on. It’s not that bad. It’s not like I’m asking you to run a marathon.”

“I wanna run a marathon.” He grumbled, hiding against her collarbone. “No waking up. Just sleep. It’s too early.”

Latula sighed. They went through this every morning, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Giving in, she curled up around him and pulled him close, hitting the snooze button on the next alarm. Mituna heard the distinct ping and smiled, kissing her collar sweetly. She huffed at him and gave one of his horns a gentle flick.

“It’s only an hour. Don’t get excited.” She murmured.

Nonetheless, Latula pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and closed her eyes. Silence fell over the small bedroom yet again and the birds, sensing the relative peace, began their chorus anew. Despite herself, Latula felt her eyes beginning to drift shut. The sound of soft snoring from her mate was her farewell back into sleep.

Latula is a tiny thing, barely four feet tall at four sweeps, with a bandaid on her chin.

Her lusus tells her, “Don’t play around at the skatepark. Watch where you’re going. Don’t forget to wear a helmet when you ride your two wheeled device.” The massive white dragon she calls a parent lovingly pats her helmeted head with a clawed wing, setting her off outside with a cheerful squawk and a puff of smoke from her nostrils. With pursed lips, Latula grabs the handlebars and rides off down the street.

It’s warm; the vernal equinox is long past, sliding lazily into the late solstice seasons when even the nights are unbearably hot. Latula feels grateful for the breeze that brushes past her face as she rides, flicking her ponytail almost playfully, whistling past her ears. The pink moon overhead shines brightly against the backdrop of stars, casting a warm glow over the street and causing long shadows to creep their way out from under Latula and her bike. With no one else out, she almost feels alone in the world, and she can’t tell if that’s a good feeling or not.

Once at the skate park Latula never wants to ride her two wheeled device. Instead it’s ditched near the entrance, hidden in the bushes from thieves and rowdy older trolls who would seek to bother her. She keeps her helmet on - not out of any concern for safety, but purely because something much more important makes her forget to take it off in her excitement. Something that made her come back every day, drop her device like an embarrassing eyesore, and hide near the jungle gym.

Not something - someone.

It’s a yellowblood, a lanky thing with four horns and bright two-toned eyes. His clothes are a horrid clash of primary colours, shorts and a T-shirt dirty with dust from the half-pipes he’s been riding all day. He and his other friends - mostly lowbloods as well - ride the pipes with a grace and ease that say they’ve been doing this for a long while. When he rides the upturn Latula can see his sneakers are mismatched, the same colours as his eyes, with bright yellow strings.

However, despite their loud palette, his clothes aren’t what lead Latula to stare at him from afar each day. It’s the utter joy on his face, the uneven fangs sticking out of his mouth when he smiles so gleeful and triumphant. It’s his voice, whooping and hollering with every downward leap into the pipe like a stereotypical lowblooded hooligan, eyes tearing up yellow with the wind that whips his hair into a frenzied mess. It’s the bloodied knees and hands, no padding, all concern for safety gone out the window. It’s the way he moves with the board in utter synchrony, leaning into it like he was made to ride it. There’s a grace to the yellowblood’s movements that reminds Latula of water, the way it laps at sand and crashes to the shore in great and terrifying waves.

The yellowblood glances her way and there’s a wild smile on his face. Latula gasps, ears turning a light teal, and hides herself away.

Maybe some night she’ll introduce herself, but tonight is not that night.

Sunrises on Earth, Latula’s come to learn, are nowhere near as harsh as the ones on Beforus had been.

The sounds and warmth of the morning roused her not fifteen minutes later as, with the rising of the sun, the world began to come to life. The sound of clinking wooden chimes hung in the window and birds chirping in the nearby oak tree sang the morning’s usual song. Cars outside added their dull rumble and a lawnmower directly underneath them hummed a low bass note to the sweet tune. It made Latula’s ears twitch and a comfortable sort of peace weigh on her body as if to say stay in bed today. There’s no rush. Just enjoy the morning.

The smell of coffee and bacon, however, pulled her from the warmth of her bed.

Mituna was nowhere to be found, the bedsheets beside her rumpled but empty. Her brows furrowed, lips pursing. Mituna always overslept, that was basically a given at this point. Even before his accident he’d overslept. For him to be up before Latula - and making what smelled like a delicious breakfast - was almost unheard of.

With a yawn and a stretch Latula sat up, pushing her tangled hair out of her face. It needed a cut soon, she noted as her brain began to slowly chug to life. Slowly, she pushed herself out of her bed and wiggled her feet into her teal slippers. Mornings had never agreed with either one of them, but Latula was always the morning grump. That was just how it went. How Mituna managed to bounce out of the bed in the morning like a literal ball of sunshine was constantly beyond her imagining.

Glancing at the clock, Latula let out a low groan. She had been the one to oversleep this time.

“Tuney,” She called, shuffling zombielike from the bedroom and forcing back another yawn, hiding it behind her hand. “Tune, are you making breakfast? How long have you been u--oh.”

There, in the kitchen, stood Mituna. Fluffy-haired, grinning wildly, flipping pancakes. Wearing nothing but a very cliched apron that read Kiss the Cook. He spotted Latula leaning against the kitchen doorway and his two-tone eyes sparkled like jewels. If it was even possible, his mouth seemed to stretch into an even bigger smile.

“Hey, Tulip, check it out!” He said, his normally lisping voice slurred even further by the early morning’s tiredness and a lack of caffeination. “I did it! I’ve been practising for ever and I finally got it! I flipped the pancake!”

He looked so proud of himself. Latula couldn’t even bring herself to be angry about the splatters of pancake batter that covered the kitchen counters, or the fact that he was buck-ass naked in front of the stove. She shook her head and grinned, folding her arms.

“You flipped the pancake,” She said, reaching over and trying to get a glop of batter from Mituna’s flyaway hair. It wasn’t working all that well. “Not a bad job, Tuney. Did you put chocolate chips in them?”

“Damn straight.” He pointed to the little brown dots that littered the breakfast treat sizzling away in the pan. “It’s not good without chocolate chips. Tastes like dirt and flour.” He wrinkled his nose, sticking out his tongue and Latula laughed.

“Yeah, that’s fair. We’re gonna need a shower after breakfast, though. You’re covered in batter - and where are your boxers? I swear you went to bed with a pair on.”

Mituna shook the pancake in the pan, avoiding Latula’s eyes. She folded her arms, one hip cocked to the side as she watched him get more and more uneasy. He squirmed under her gaze and she knew that he wouldn't be long breaking. Then--

“Fiiiiine,” He admitted finally. “They’re too tight. I left ‘em in the respiteblock. Clothes are dumb anyway.” With a dramatic flair he pointed the spatula at Latula, a cocky grin on his face and mischief in his eyes. “You should take yours off too. Come on! Strip! Strip or no pancakes.”

Latula snorted. “Ha! You wish. I’ll save the stripping for the bath.” She said, taking the spatula from him daintily and turning over the pancake before it burnt to the dry bottom of the pan. She added more butter and the teflon sizzled, smoke rising in the air as the butter melted and turned a bitter brown. Mituna hissed and covered his ears, moving back away from the pan with a disgruntled expression.

“Sorry for the noise, babe.” Latula waved the buttery spatula towards the table. “Get us some plates, Tuney? I’ll finish up here.”

“But I wanted to make breakfast for you!” Mituna’s protest came out a little more whiny than he would have liked to admit, but it still melted Latula’s heart anyway. His lips pursed in a sulky expression and the kicked-barkbeast look he wore was enough to make even Latula back down. With a soft expression she sighed, turning down the stove to a respectable temperature and pouring the batter for another pancake. When she was done, she handed Mituna back the spatula and kissed him sweetly. He smiled into the kiss, knowing he’d won.

It wasn’t as if Latula ever won against his puppy look, anyway.

Latula heard the hit before she saw it.

The sound of fists meeting flesh was not one she was accustomed to, but it was nonetheless unmistakable. She would have thought nothing of it, continuing on her nightly bike ride to the park, but then she heard something else that made her already cool blood freeze in her veins. Cries of pain in an all too familiar voice; a voice that Latula normally heard whooping and cheering as its owner dove headfirst down ramps and came up the other side, sailing through the air.

A kind of anger flooded Latula's pan and her tires skidded on the dirt trail that led to the park as she whirled around. Her legs throbbed, pedaling as hard as she could to race back towards the source of the sound.

Her suspicions were confirmed. There, lying just off the path, a cluster of higher-blooded trolls gathered in a circle around a familiar yellow-jacketed target. He had his hands over his head, bandaged knees tucked in towards the core of his body to try and avoid getting any more kicks to the stomach. It didn't work; someone got him from behind and he cried out again, shouting curses and spitting vehemently at the group. It only caused them to jeer louder, encouraging their antics.

Latula, a tiny, scrappy little tealblood, had no chance against the three blues and a violet that threatened the object of her hidden obsession. But that wasn't about to stop her; she sped forward with an angry holler on her lips, her front tire aimed directly for the ringleader of the group.

Two or three of them looked up and their eyes widened. Like a synchronized ballet they all dove out of the way, yelling in fear of the crazy little wriggler speeding towards them at a breakneck pace. If she didn't hurt them, she was certain to hurt herself with how insane she was acting. But she didn't care; the bluebloods scattered and Latula stumbled off her bike, lunging at the violet with teeth bared and an angry scream on her lips.

It worked. The violet looked about to piss himself as he raced back, tripping over a rock behind him and scrambling on all fours like a pinchbeast to get away from her. She smiled, all victorious fangs and scraped-up hands and knees. Her body hurt from the fall she'd taken but her heart was racing and she felt proud to have done something good. Slowly she got to her feet, panting and feeling adrenaline course through her body

"Are you okay?" She asked the yellowblood, who still sat dumbfounded on the ground. He stared up at her and Latula took a moment to simply admire his two-toned eyes. Red and blue, she decided, were her two favorite colours. Even though she was still breathing heavily she leaned down, reaching out a hand to help him up.

He hesitated. Latula was frightened for a moment that he would call her out, get angry for acting like a culler. Her blood colour suddenly became very prominent in her mind and anxiety bells rang. Was this something a culler would do? Was this even okay? Did he think that she was just doing this to coddle him?

Then he smiled wide. He laughed, reaching up and taking her hand, pushing himself up off the ground.

"That was awesome!" He cheered. "Did you see them running? Man, you were like an angry hornbeast! I've never seen anything like that before!" The energy that he exuded as he fist-pumped the air made it look as if he hadn't been injured at all, despite the newly forming bruises she'd seen as his jacket pulled away from his stomach. He didn't even seem to care. "Damn, Teal! That was the best thing I've seen all week."

Latula's cheeks went a bright blue and she smiled sheepishly. Well, at least he wasn't angry. To have the object of her affections cheering her on for a momentary lapse of judgement, though, that was...something else.

"Thanks," She said, rather shyly. "I, uh....I hope I didn't hurt you with my bike or anything."

"Nah." The yellowblood waved her off. "Nothing I haven't done to myself before. I'm Mituna, by the way."

His smile was adorably gap-toothed as he held out a hand to shake. He must have chipped a fang recently. Latula thought it was one of the most adorable things she'd ever seen. Her ears perked up, turning teal as she reached out a shaking hand and clasping his in her own. "Latula."

"Latula, huh?" His smile didn't even fade for a second. "Sounds like a flower. Do you skate any?"

Latula shook her head no. Mituna laughed.

"What are you doing near a skate park if you can't skate? Do you do any rad tricks on your bike?"

Another shake of her head. "I just like to watch."

Mituna's smile became a little gentler then. He let go of her hand, picking up his board and her bike, handing the latter back to her. "Well, let's go change that." He said, walking towards the park. Latula's eyes widened. Without a second thought she trotted along right behind him.

"Don't forget your pills!"

Mituna's voice echoed down the hall from Latula as she finished clearing away the dishes. The pancakes had been slightly burnt, but a little bit of syrup had fixed them right up. Sometimes she forgot just how good of a cook Mituna had been before his accident. He was getting there again, too. She reminded herself to praise him a little more on it. After all, Mituna loved praise on anything, and she loved seeing the way his face lit up when he'd done something right.

He was doing a lot more things right lately. Latula was amazed at just how much a new world and a new life had begun to heal him in so little time. Then again, stagnance was never good for anything except bringing out the worst in people. Even bright, sunshiney people like Mituna fell victim.

"Can do, toots. Go on up, I'll be there in a minute. I just wanna scrub this pan before anything gets caked." Latula called back to him.

"Hurry up! Just let it soak!" Mituna sounded impatient and she sighed, shaking her head and putting the pan back in the hot water.

"Fine, fine." She said. Her arm was aching anyway from trying ineffectually to get the sticky bits of chocolate off the pan. It could soak for a little while, she supposed. Not everything had to be done right away. Rolling her shoulder, she reached into the cabinet on top of the fridge and pulled out a small orange bottle. Her nose wrinkled as she dumped one pill out into her palm and tossed it into her mouth. It went down rather stickily since she'd dry-swallowed, but at least it went down this time. She put the pills back, seeing another bottle and hesitating.

"Did you take your pills?" Latula called up to Mituna.

"What?"

"I said," She yelled a little louder. "Did you take your pills?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." She closed the cupboard door and headed up the stairs. Clothes were strewn throughout the hallway as if Mituna had stripped on his way up the stairs and into the bathroom. He sat in the already full tub with a big grin hidden under the bubbles.His ears wiggled and Latula huffed, hands on her hips.

"I don't trust that look on your face." She said, tugging off her shirt.

"What look?" Mituna asked innocently. "I don't have a look on my face, unless you count my normal gorgeousness."

Latula snorted. She wasn't about to debate his attractiveness, though, not when he was wiggling impatiently and waiting for her to hop into the tub. The water was comfortably lukewarm to combat the heat of the summer day outside, splashing slightly over the rim of the tub. Mituna had overfilled it accidentally. With her toe Latula tugged on the bath plug, letting some of the water slip through without Mituna noticing. It didn't work that well; the tub gave an obnoxious sucking noise and she winced. Mituna didn't seem to notice.

"Did you take your pill?" He asked, looking down at her as she settled comfortably into his lap. She leaned back against him and he raised wet hands, stroking them through her hair to dampen it.

"Yeah." She said, tilting her head back to look up at him and pressing a kiss to his chin. He beamed happily at her.

"Good. No forgetting our pills. The human mediculler said so."

A soft hum left Latula and she let him play with her hair. It was nice, sometimes, to have him look after her and worry about her. Sometimes it bugged her, but the more she went to therapy the fewer and further between those moments were. Now she just enjoyed the quiet, peaceful moments where she didn't have to move or think, just feel the softness of his hands as they combed tenderly through her hair and wove it into messy but well-intentioned braids.

That reminded her...

"You have therapy today," She said, opening one eye to look at him. "Feeling up to going this time? It's okay if you're not."

Mituna gave a thoughtful hum. He'd missed the last two, they both knew that, but the therapist he saw was more than understanding. She was patient, and kind, and never faulted him for missing appointments he didn't have the energy to make. Latula was seriously considering switching therapists to see his.

Finally, after a moment's silence, Mituna nodded. "Yeah." He said. "Yeah I can go today. Today's a good day."

Latula beamed at him and leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Proud of you." She murmured softly.

Mituna blushed, fumbled with her hair and looked away. "'S just an appointment." He said, flustered. "Missed the last couple, it's not like I'm doin' all that great--"

He found himself hushed by another soft kiss. He would have protested, but Latula's lips were soft and cool and just the right amount of plush. Plus, she still tasted like chocolate and syrup. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

A meteor struck Latula's treehouse hive. She swore, a panicked note to her voice.

"Tuna!" She said through her headset, watching her screen frantically. "Tuna, come on, get through! I can't jump until you do!"

"I can't!" If Latula sounded scared, he was downright terrified. Frozen in place, Latula watched as he struggled to climb onto the roof of the impossibly large hive they'd built to reach his [insert name for portal thing here]. Her heart stopped as he slipped from the tile, grabbing on with one desperate hand and crying out in absolute terror. She cried out with him. "I can't do it! Tulip, help me!"

"I can't - I don't know what to do!" Her breaths were coming quick and heavy now and her heart hammered in her ears. Across the keyboard her fingers trembled, misspelling words as she typed frantic, panicky pleas for help to anyone in her session. No one listened. Why wouldn't anyone listen? Even Cronus had vanished - where was he?! He was supposed to be here!

On the screen Mituna had managed to swing himself up. Okay. Okay, this was going a little better. He could do this. They could do this. Latula watched him as he scrambled over the multiple rooftops and balcony railings in a half-assed attempt at parkour. Over her headphones she could hear his claws scraping against the sandpaper tiles as he scrabbled onto the final level of the toppling building. Her heart swelled with elation.

"Yes!" She cried, then clapped her hands over her mouth realizing that she'd screamed straight into the microphone. "Sorry, Tune!"

"It's okay!" Mituna sounded breathless and just as elated as she felt. "Okay - okay, I think I can lift myself from here, it's just a jump, right?" He tilted his head to look up at the portal above him. It seemed a mile away. How long had it been since he'd used his psi? Too long for something like this. He was out of practise. Fucking cullers.

"Yeah, just a jump!" Latula frantically worked at her own computer, glancing at the other feeds from the ten trolls that'd been roped into this with them. They were the last ones to go through. She scrambled to the top of her hive, struggling to keep her husktop steady. "Okay. Okay, you jump, and then I'll be right behind you in just a minute, okay? We might lose connection for a minute--"

Mituna wasn't listening. Latula heard the telltale crackle of his psi and the next moment, he was launching himself through the air towards the gate. She could see him rocketing towards it one minute, and the next - the next the feed was cut off.

He'd made it.

Latula sighed with relief and hung her head. The husktop, now useless, fell to the wayside and bounced off the precariously build hive with a firm crack. Latula looked up at her own gate and, with a loud grunt of effort, threw herself at it..

"Ready to go?"

Mituna's voice broke Latula from her reverie. In the time that it'd taken her to pull on her clothes he'd already braided her hair, pulled his own into a messy ponytail, and gotten his clothes on. Even his shoes were tied. Latula remembered a time when he couldn't even pull his jumpsuit off, but here he was sporting a pair of board shorts, a baggy tanktop and his old mismatched shoes and everything was on right and tidy. Her chest clenched. Pride swelled up inside her. Slowly she stood up, grabbing her shoes.

"Yeah, just give me a sec, babe." She murmured. Mituna fidgeted impatiently and whined.

"Come on, slowpoke!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, hold on." Latula stood and stretched, feeling her back pop from where she'd been hunched over her shoelaces for the last age and a half. Mituna tangled one arm with hers, keys already in hand, and half-dragged her to the door.

"You're so spacey today." He pointed out. When Latula gave him a confused look, he very obviously rolled his eyes and huffed as he tried to find the words to explain. "You're all - thinking about other things. Your pan isn't in your head, Tulip!"

"Where else would my pan be?" She teased him and he groaned aloud.

"You know what I mean."

Latula glanced at him, his expectant expression. She smiled warmly. He'd changed so much, but at the same time, not at all. She almost wished that she could see herself through his eyes, wondering if she'd changed any since they'd met. Who did he see when he looked at her?

That didn't really matter. Whatever he saw, clearly he still loved it. Loved her. She kissed his forehead sweetly and he bumped noses with her in an attempt to make the kiss meet his lips. She laughed and kissed him there, too.

"Doesn't matter, babe." She said. "Come on. We've got stuff to do today."

The question seemed to vanish from Mituna's mind. He nodded, stealing one more kiss as he opened the door.

"Ladies first?" He said.

Latula laughed and stepped outside.

#beforuszine #Beforus Zine #Latula Pyrope #Mituna Captor #Homestuck #My writing

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