#airael character

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Chapter 1: Obey the Groove

Virtue, manager of new band Bardic Inspiration, takes everyone out to relax after days of trying to find a new guitarist. Hijinks ensue, and something begins that nobody could have predicted.

When it comes down to it, Virtue thinks that Absinthe is a romantic. A fool-hearty, ridiculous, stupid romantic, but a romantic nonetheless. She’ll rant and rave up and down the halls that no she’s not and I don’t even like romance, but Virtue knows better. 

Every gesture, every gift, every heart-felt word is a sign and a treasure. The idea of a fantastical journey, even one grounded in the real world, is overly appealing to Absinthe’s soft heart, even if that journey belongs to someone else. To put it simply, every moment of Absinthe’s life is tinged gold and pink with meaning, adventure, and desire. How is that not a romantic’s view of the world?

Tonight, however, takes that to a completely new level. Whereas normally Absinthe will find cosmic meaning in what song she hears first, and that’s the extent to their fantasy, the person playing guitar in front of her has taken the toned down rose tinted glasses and shot it full of trenbolone.

It was supposed to be a relaxing night, too, which is why Virtue is so fucking annoyed at the singer. Bardic Inspiration finally got a big break, opening for a tour in a few weeks. So of course Michael decided now would be the best time to go further his game developer career, leaving the band short of a guitarist. Today was the last day of try-outs, and after a night of going out and taking it easy they would decide who would be the newest member of their little entourage.

At least, that was the plan.

Alas, the glue of the group, the poetic Absinthe Malone, chose a bar with local musicians. Secretly, Virtue was hoping that this wasn’t because Absinthe didn’t feel like anyone who tried out over the last few days was “it”. Hoping is useless when you know better. 

“Virtue, I think it’s him.” Absinthe whispers in Virtue’s ear. “I’d need to sing with him, y’know, but I’m almost positive it’s him.”

Virtue groans and rubs their hand over their face. “We just spent four days doing tryouts for 54 different people. How do you know none of them will work out?”

“You know why.” She prods them with her elbow, and Virtue almost hates that they know exactly what she means. “Besides, if this works out, and the band likes him, makes your job easier, right?”

“I don’t think you know what my job is, Sin.”

Too late, she’s already gone up to him as he finishes his song. He’s talented, Virtue will easily give him that. Almost as good as Michael was, at least on the guitar. He has Michael beat on vocal talent, no matter how easy it is to do that. 

Objectively, he’d be a good fit musically. The covers he’s been playing are in line with even Gemini’s stranger tastes, he’s clearly competent enough to learn Michael’s parts, and he can actually hold a tune.

But the biggest problem is the one that Virtue’s been having with almost everyone who tried out. One of the three band members doesn’t like them with a passion. With Gemini it’s more understandable, she’s aggressive and touchy towards almost everything in life. She’s loud and brash and gets on peoples nerves if they’re not prepared. 

In fact, that last fact was so common that a large portion of people who tried out would almost get into fights with the drummer. Granted, some of them were her fault, but nobody in the band wanted someone who Gemini could rile up so often. That fact made Virtue incredibly angry some days.

If they managed to get past Gemini, Airael was the next large obstacle. Virtue doesn’t even know why he dislikes the people he dislikes, but the fact is always loudly announced. If any person simpered or whined when told that they were an “inherently unlikeable musician” (ooh boy Virtue wanted to strangle Airael for that one), the bassist would point blank refuse to have them considered.

And most unfortunately for Virtue, it was Absinthe who took the cake in terms of most tryouts disliked. If they played fine, then Absinthe would sing with them, and then make a disgusted face and sit back down. If they didn’t play fine, she’d tell them to leave while glowering at the paper in front of her.

So overall, Virtue wishes that Bardic Inspiration was filled with anyone else right now, and wishes that everyone stop looking for the magical perfect guitarist to show up and just get on with it. Hopefully (against Virtue’s best interests), this random guy playing the guitar on a Thursday night will finally put this saga to rest.

“What’s Sin doing?”

Virtue jumps as Airael appears next to them. Considering how tall he is, it should be impossible, and yet he always finds a way to sneak around.

They sigh. “She thinks that this guy is the one.”

Airael hums in thought, and looks him up and down. “Well, he sounds good, and doesn’t look like a douchebag, so I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do you think Gems could get to him?”

Another pause as Airael looks at Guitar Guy again. “If she does, I don’t think it’d be too awful. Too early to tell, though, you know that.”

The pair watch as Absinthe moves the microphone and gets ready next to Guitar Guy. She’s almost vibrating with excitement, but Guitar Guy is chewing on his lip and shifting his feet. Whether out of nervousness or anticipation, Virtue can’t tell.

“Ooo! Is Sin gonna sing a song tonight?!” Gemini makes her way to the duo and stands in between them with a large grin. “Is he gonna be the one?”

“We don’t know, Gems.” Virtue almost sighs, the exasperation almost drowning them. Why is it that everyone they work with is so exhausting? “If, against all odds, Absinthe likes him, and Airael likes him, and you don’t kill him, then I’ll talk to him. But who knows if that’s ever going to happen.”

Gemini’s grin only grows sharper. “Cross my heart hope to die, I won’t cause any major problems.”

“That doesn’t help with anything.”

“C’mon, Virtue. She’s so cute she’d never hurt a fly.” Airael bends over towards Gemini and gives her a peck. “Look at her.”

Virtue groans. “Flies are not who I’m worried about and you know it.”

“Look at her!”

“Ahem.” The group turns to look at Absinthe standing at the front of the small stage with a big smile. Even a year later, Virtue can’t believe how perfect she looks with a microphone in her hand. “I thought you all should get a little bit extra on this beautiful night! So a little change in vocals for this song!”

She looks back at Guitar Guy and mouths a countdown. He starts to play the beginning of Absinthe’s little brother’s favorite song, and Virtue decides to watch him play instead of watching the crowd like they normally do. 

Absinthe starts to sing, and the familiar wave of unending care, love, and excitement rolls through Virtue. The dirty secret of Bardic Inspiration’s success, their singer’s ability to push their emotions out into the world using music, literally. A secret held only by her three bandmates, and one ex-bandmate. 

Virtue watches as Guitar Guy relaxes, and then tenses his shoulders. He takes a deep breath while playing, closes his eyes for a moment, and his body relaxes again. When he opens his eyes, they follow the crowd, and slowly find Virtue’s gaze. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch. He’s probably played here a few times, if a stranger’s stare isn’t startling.

Their shared gazes hold for a few seconds more, and he goes back to scanning the people who are likely looking at the stage with a new reverence. Virtue can understand their reaction. It’s similar to their first time hearing Absinthe sing. The pure force and genuinity of the emotions sent out feels like touching divinity in so many ways. 

The more that Virtue studies Guitar Guy, the more they see how subtle his reaction to the Power is. His face didn’t change, other than the initial tensing it’s not apparent what happened, but he’s truly relaxed now. The tensing in his legs is gone, he isn’t sitting perfectly straight in the chair anymore, and he’s actually looking at the crowd.

The singing stops, and there’s a taunt silence as everyone realizes that the music isn’t playing. They clap, Absinthe does a dramatic bow, returns the microphone to its stand in front of Guitar Guy, and she skips over to everyone. 

“I think he’s the one, guys.” She grins. Airael holds out the drink she’d been sipping at earlier, and she shakes her head. “I’m already on cloud nine. That was better than any time I sang with Michael.”

Virtue starts to corral them over to a table to talk as Absinthe gushes over the feeling of being on stage with Guitar Guy. She can barely sit still, and Virtue orders some food for the table.

Airael puts a hand on Absinthe’s shoulder, and she stills. “Sin, we need to talk to him first.”

She turns bright red and leans over so her candy green hair hides her eyes. “Sorry, sorry, yeah, of course. We do this together. I know that.”

Gemini cackles and ruffles Absinthe’s hair so it starts to stand up. “We know, Sin, you’re just excited.”

Absinthe whines into her hands and puts her head on the table. “Leave me alone to die of embarrassment.”

Virtue hums as the food arrives. “So I shouldn’t bring up you essentially bullied a random stranger into letting you sing one song for their set.”

There’s a muffled scream, and Virtue knows that she’d be banging her head into the table if they weren’t in public. Everyone laughs, and Airael pats her back sympathetically.

“Can someone kill me please?” Absinthe begs, and everyone laughs again. Virtue turns to watch the rest of Guitar Guy’s set absentmindedly.

“Also, what’s his name? You never told us.” They ask, and get another muffled scream in response.

Next chapter

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Chapter 4: Coming to You Live

The Bardic Inspiration tour starts

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Cato paces back and forth behind the stage, wringing his hands. The heavy black and green boots accentuate every step with a dull thud as the speed starts to pick up. Virtue closes their eyes to push down their annoyance.

They grab Cato’s elbow and force him to stop. He looks at them with surprised eyes, then quickly looks away. Virtue tugs him around so that he’s facing them. 

“A few things. One, you’re here anyways, so you have to do this. No backing out. Two, you’ll be fine. And three, you’re going to ruin the look if you pace to the point of sweating.” Virtue gestures to Cato as a whole at the last point.

And they’re very serious about point three. It wasn’t easy getting a last minute creation for Cato’s inaugural concert, but they managed to get it just in time and damn it they’re not putting all that effort down the drain.

The custom neon green lightning design on the boots, the black jeans with handmade goldenrod patches sewn in the same bright green, and the dark green vest with accents of gold. 

The colors were Airael’s idea, “He’s new and shiny, green and gold work very well to say that. And black because he’s moody, like an emo teenager or some shit like that.” Making those colors neon was, as it always is, Gemini’s hand.

Absinthe hits Virtue’s shoulder. “You’re the worst at this.” She chastises, and gently removes Virtue’s hand from Cato. “Look, dude, it’s going to be terrifying the first few times, but you’re not alone. So even if you want to literally show your ass to the crowd and stare at Gem the whole time, we got you. Or stare at my new ‘do.” She dramatically flips her newly dyed, newly shaved bright blue undercut over to the side and strikes a pose. “Since, y’know, I’m the best looking person on the stage.”

“Arguable!” Airael yells from further backstage. Cato huffs out a laugh, and Absinthe stands back up in a more relaxed position.

“But seriously.” She puts a hand on Cato’s shoulder, and smiles kindly. “We’re here to help you. Rae, Gem, and I are all used to this live show environment, even if the touring part’s gonna be new. You’re new to all of it, and we want to support you however we can. Okay?”

Cato’s face breaks into a small smile, and he nods. “Okay.”

“Good.” She squeezes his shoulder, and turns back to Virtue. “You’re the worst at this.”

“And you’re not.”

Absinthe sighs, shakes her head, and leaves to find the rest of her band. Virtue looks back at Cato, who’s staring at the space Absinthe once filled. 

“Do me a favor, kid.” They say as they grab his guitar. They shove it in front of him, making him look into their eyes, startled. “Don’t get starstruck with your own bandmate.”

Cato’s face turns from awed, to afraid, to confused faster than Virtue ever thought possible. “If you say so.” He shrugs, and takes the guitar. “You’re the boss.”

He runs off in the same direction as Absinthe, and Virtue laughs under their breath once he’s out of earshot. Virtue’s not the boss, just the manager. He’ll figure it out eventually, they just hope he’s not too close to the sun when he does.

Overall, the first concert’s pretty good. Cato finally figures out how to fit the groove by song three, and looks much more relaxed by the end. And the reception to him replacing Michael was pretty good, from what Virtue saw while at the merch table. 

The lead band, Moneyz, is pretty good too. Good group of people, which Virtue had made sure of when setting up this whole tour in the first place. Once the venue had emptied of people and all the sound set up had been safely put away, and instruments secured in the van they’d be taking across the country, Moneyz invited Bardic Inspiration to a diner for some food and relaxation.

When everyone got their drinks and figured out their order, Moneyz frontman, Lim, leans in towards Virtue. “I’ve never seen a band manager so involved in the actual band itself.”

“We’re not a very typical band setup.” Virtue leans in as well. “They make all the music, and produce it. I do everything else.”

“And sometimes they play the fiddle.” Absinthe adds absently as she sips on her coffee, then returns to the conversation she was having with Gemini and the Moneyz’s drummer. 

Lim hums. “Fiddle, ey?”

They shrug. “I learned some violin in high school. They’re technically the same instrument without the bridge.”

Lim hums again and leans in closer. “So how good are you, Virtue?”

Virtue sits back and clutches their mug close to their chest. “I’m not going to join your entourage. Get another fiddler.”

Lim groans and flings backwards into the cushioned seat. “I wasn’t asking for you to join, just to play on this tour with us.”

Virtue glances at the rest of the band. Even though everyone seems to be talking to someone else, Absinthe’s shoulders tense, and Cato’s eyes flick to the side where Virtue is sitting for half a moment. 

“Only for the tour.” Virtue says. “And I get paid $300 at the end.”

“You’re underselling.” Lim narrows Lim’s eyes.

“I’m not meant to be a commodity for the stage. The 300 is for making me be one.”

“You got a deal.” Lim holds out a hand. Virtue grabs it, and they both give one firm shake before retreating back to their drinks.

Virtue falls back into their silent observation as Lim turns and starts a conversation with their lead guitarist Emen. In general Moneyz seems to have a good rapport with one another. The drummer Kuovi, while not the most bright, is incredibly earnest and clearly the emotional heart of the group. Emen is the primary songwriter and the lead guitarist, and his ingenuity shows even when just talking to others. The bassist, Shanty, is the youngest by far, just turning 18 a few weeks ago, but she has a lot of spirit and spunk for someone her small stature. And Lim, lead vocalist, rhythm guitarist, and frontman of it all, terrifies Virtue.

While Kuovi’s enthusiasm melts all but the coldest of hearts, and the creative twist of Emen’s speech can get most to open up, Lim is the only one who truly understands how to manipulate a conversation to Lim’s benefit.

There’s the slightest hesitation before every sentence, a brief breath to make sure the just right words have been selected and put together in the just right order to get what Lim wants. If it wasn’t for their old obsession with speech and behavior patterns, they probably wouldn’t have even noticed. They didn’t even notice until watching Lim talk to Gemini and get her to soften up just a little on Kuovi. 

At least Emen, for all his charm and suave words, was just a flirt.

Food comes, and is enjoyed, and then everyone says their goodnights. Virtue herds their band towards the van, Lim does the same, and when they make eye contact, Lim smiles.

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Chapter 2: Diminish the Chord

Virtue follows Guitar Guy out, and they strike a deal that changes the fate of the world. Or, at least, their lives.

As Guitar Guy starts to finish up his set, Virtue begins their move towards the stage. He strums the last chord with a small smile on his face. Some of the brown hair on his forehead is sticking from the ambient heat of the bar, and he moves it back before leaning into the mic.

“Thank you all for listening tonight.” There’s a few whoops from the crowd, and his smile gets a little bigger. “I’m Cato, here every Tuesday and Thursday, have a good night.”

Guitar Guy, Cato, turns off his mic and starts to put his few pieces of equipment away. Virtue steps up next to him, and helps him. 

“So, Cato.” They start, and Cato hums slightly as he closes the guitar case. “I first want to apologize about Absinthe earlier. She’s very insistent when she wants to be, and forgets what it means to be polite at times.”

Cato hums again, standing up and stretching. “So that’s her name.”

Virtue wants to shake the neon singer until she reassembles sense in her brain. “It is.”

There’s a huff of a laugh, and he turns to face Virtue. He’s shorter than them, but not by much, with light brown eyes and hair to match. He grins up at them with his packed equipment in his hands.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed the set. I need to put these in the car, if you don’t mind-” He starts to move past Virtue, and they follow beside him.

“It was really good. You’re very talented, clearly.” Virtue says as they move out of the band, and they can feel the band’s eyes watching their exit. “Actually, we wanted to talk to you after you finished up.”

Cato puts the guitar case down while unlocking the back of an old car. “I’m not interested in a record deal.”

“It’s not a record deal.” Virtue watches him put everything in the trunk, and refuses to flinch when he slams the door shut and spins around in their face.

“You,” Cato points at Virtue with narrowed eyes, “are a manager. I can tell from the way you watched me in the bar, and how you followed me out. So let’s drop the shit and listen to me when I tell you I’m not interested.”

It’s Virtue’s turn to hum. “Fair enough, you don’t want that. Great news, I’m not affiliated with any sort of record company so that’s not really a thing I can offer. I am, though, a band manager. Absinthe is the lead singer of that band, and took a real shine to your guitar playing abilities. Which is good, seeing as how we’re short of one, and nobody likes everyone else who tried out to be a replacement.”

Cato’s eyes narrow further, and a scowl starts to pull at his mouth. “I’m a solo act.”

“Clearly.” Virtue almost smirks at him, but has enough forethought to not. Cato’s already surly and defensive, no need to give him more reason to pull away. “But if you want to continue to get better at your craft I’d suggest you talk to people going further in the industry, even if that’s not what you want to do. Especially Absinthe. For all her outward airheadedness, she’s incredibly musically competent.”

Cato continues to scowl, but he looks off into Virtue’s shoulder, deep in thought. “I’ll talk to them, but only about that.”

“Absinthe might try and recruit you anyways, but it’s your choice at the end of the day.”

Cato and Virtue walk back into the bar, and Virtue notices that Airael is sitting in Gemini’s lap, with Gemini’s head popping out underneath her girlfriend’s arm. There’s two empty fry baskets, with Absinthe holding the last of a third in her hand.

“No, you guys don’t get it at all. Malcolm’s my only sibling. Rae, you’re an only child, and Gem, you’re the middle child of twelve.” Absinthe points fries at both of them, and then shoves said fries into her mouth.

“I just don’t understand why you call him every night.” Gemini groans. “He’s not a kid, Sin.”

There’s an uncomfortably familiar shadow that falls over Absinthe’s eyes, and Virtue steps in between the two and picks up the fry baskets. “I think that’s enough on the taters, kids. You’re barely legal, lay off.”

The shadow disappears, and Absinthe giggles. “I’m 23, V, I think I can handle a few fries. Maybe even some tots.”

“Liar!” Airael sings from Gemini’s lap, and Absinthe flips him off. “V, she had one tot and started getting sleepy!”

He yelps as Gemini pinches his side. “Shut up you two, we have a guest.”

Everyone turns to see Cato, who’d been awkwardly watching the argument go on from behind Virtue. Absinthe looks at Virtue with teary eyes, and Virtue smiles at her.

‘Thank me later.’ They mouth, and Absinthe nods.

Virtue carefully stacks the fry baskets up, and sits down on the other side of the table. Airael offers his seat to Cato, and the talk officially begins.

“So,” Cato starts. “My name’s Cato. And so we’re clear, I’m not here to join your band or whatever.”

“Why not?”

Absinthe’s question takes him off guard from the way he startles and stares at her. Or maybe it’s the fact that she asked it with no judgment, or the way she leaned in with clear interest in the answer. It’s not clear, Cato clearly thought she’d be a lot more belligerent. Which is understandable.

“I, uh, I don’t really want to be a part of a band.” He stammers, and flinches when Gemini grabs a hold of Airael and leans forwards with a vicious smile.

“Is it because you’re comfortable in this little solo act, or you think you’d disappoint everyone by not being up to our standards?” She asks, and Cato clearly bristles. Airael’s arms go around Gemini’s, and Absinthe moves so her body is facing away from the table.

“I don’t think band life is one that I’d be happy with. Especially touring, if you guys end up doing that. I like the place I’m in now.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try.” Airael puts in, and Absinthe nods. 

“Exactly. Look, Cato, I really think you’d be a good fit, more than you’d expect. Don’t ask how I came to that conclusion, that’s a band secret, but I do know that you’re not only talented, but adaptable. If you’d be down, I want you to come to a few practices, try it out. If it feels right, join the band and go on our tour with us. If after the tour you’re out, we’ll just get another guitarist. But I really want you to try it.”

It’s always mesmerizing for Virtue to watch Absinthe switch from Public Absinthe to Professional Absinthe. In all honesty, they have no idea how she does it. It could be because of the Malcolm situation a few months ago, but they’ll never know for sure.

“So if you did all those tryouts, why me?” Cato’s eyebrows are furrowed in intense confusion. “That makes no sense.”

“I’m with you on that one.” Virtue mutters, and Airael kicks them from under the table. 

“They don’t fit. It wouldn’t work right.” Absinthe answers. “I’m willing to settle if I have to, but I’m a perfectionist when it comes to the fit of BI.”

Cato does a double take, and Virtue wants to slam their head into the table. Nobody told him what the name of the fucking band is.

“They named the band Bardic Inspiration, BI for short.” Virtue cuts in, and Cato covers his face.

“I think you’re the fit.” Absinthe adds, and Cato groans into his hands.

Everyone looks at each other as the brunet sits still at the table. ‘Is he okay?’ Gemini mouths, and Virtue shrugs. 

“Fine.” Cato’s muffled voice comes out. “I’ll do the test trial.”

Absinthe cheers and stands up. “You won’t regret this! I’ll text you the details!” And she skips out of the bar. Virtue scribbles their name and number onto a napkin and slides it to Cato.

“You’ll get used to it, if you stay.” Virtue smiles as they stand up. Gemini and Airael are already following after Airael, leaving just Cato sitting down.

“If you say so.” He murmurs while staring at the door.

First chapter

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

It's Only Up From Here

Here's an almost 3k oneshot I wrote for the TPU anniversary yesterday! I had to stop bc it almost made me cry!

Malcolm sits in the dining room with the lights mostly off. The counter light, which is the only light downstairs that hasn’t been replaced with LEDs, illuminates the half-full coffeemaker and an opened box of cereal left precariously on the edge.

Across from Malcolm and his bowl of cereal is Airael and his coffee. He blends into the shadows more than most mornings thanks to the black tank top, but the light catches the glazed ceramic of his bright purple mug with every sip he takes.

“You have a presentation today, don’t you?” He asks in his gravely just-woke-up alto voice, and Malcolm watches Airael’s dark eyes gleam in the yellow light as they move to look at him.

Malcolm shrugs and takes a bite of his cereal. “Yeah, I guess. Dunno if they’ll get to me today or not.”

Airael hums and takes another long sip of coffee. “Which class is it again?”

“English.”

“Ah.”

The silence returns to the kitchen, and the two continue their morning rituals in the comfort of each other. Airael drains his mug, and moves to get another cup as Absinthe shuffles into the space. Silently, Airael takes another mug from the cupboard and fills it alongside his.

He ruffles Malcolm’s hair as he makes his way out. “Have a good time today, kid.” And he walks out of the kitchen, and up the stairs where he and Gemini’s room is.

Malcolm watches Absinthe doctor her coffee, grab an apple from the fridge, and sit down in the chair next to his. “Did you get the slides turned in last night?” She asks, watching Malcolm carefully as he stares into the mostly empty cereal bowl.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to help you practice it at all?”

“Nope.”

She shrugs and leans back in her chair, mug in hand. “If you say so. You better give us all the whole spiel after you’ve done it, though. I know Gem’s been dying to hear it.”

Malcolm laughs softly. “You all have, don’t single her out.”

“You’re not the one who has to hear the complaining all day.”

“You’re not the one they’re begging.”

She rolls her eyes and takes a long drink. There’s a moment as she looks at Malcolm, studying him like it would be the last time she’d ever see his face. It would make Malcolm more uncomfortable if it wasn’t a common occurrence, if he didn’t understand exactly why she did it. 

“We get the house to ourselves tonight.” Absinthe tilts her head, and her crazed neon green hair falls over her left eye.

“Wait, really?” The bleariness starts to leave Malcolm as he sits up in excitement. “Why? Isn’t it, like, impossible to do that?”

“Usually, yeah.” Absinthe shrugs like she didn’t just get four people to be out of the house at the same time for hours. “But Gemini and Airael are going out to a concert tonight, Cato’s meeting up with some friend, and I convinced Virtue to go out as well.”

He grins, and gets out of his chair and hugs her as tightly as he can. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

She hugs him back. “No, I think I do.” They let go, and Malcolm takes a step back. Absinthe pushes her hair back, and gives him a small half-smile. “When you get home everyone’ll still be here, but it’s empty by 7 and will be until late.”

She glances at the clock on the wall. “Go get your shit now, otherwise we’ll be late.”

He starts to run out of the kitchen, but pauses for a moment and looks back at her. “You’re the best, by the way.”

“I have been your whole life.” She smiles, but it’s heavier than earlier. “And I will be until I die.”

-

“So what you’re saying,” Josie points her fork at Malcolm absentmindedly, “is that you’re excited to spend time with your wackadoodle sister that I’ve heard nothing but annoyances about.”

“Okay, yes, but-” Malcolm starts, but Finn cuts him off.

“We’re not worried, Mal, more confused.” They take a bite of whatever soup they brought for lunch and tuck some of their curls behind their ear. “Family is weird and shit, but we’ve heard like, nothing super positive about her, or anything super negative. So you being like this about it is just weird.”

Malcolm groans. “You guys wouldn’t get it.”

“Not if you don’t explain.” Finn quips.

“Oh yeah, just because we don’t live with one of the most popular local bands means we’ll never understand complicated relationships.” Josie rolls her eyes. “Trust us, dude. That’s it.”

Malcolm purses his lips as his friends watch him intently. “It’s just. She’s been there my entire life, through everything. When I was younger and living with our aunt, and she was out of state for weeks at a time, she’d try to call at least once a week. But she was gone a lot, and it wasn’t until recently that I’ve actually been able to like, talk with her and spend any amount of time with her.”

Finn and Josie nod slowly, and Josie spears a piece of chicken from the plastic tray. “Well, that kinda explains some of it. Kinda.”

“It’s not like we talked about her a lot in the first place.” Finn agrees. “Have you even been able to have, like, one on one time since moving in?”

Malcolm shakes his head, and the pair ‘ohhhhh’ in sudden understanding. “She’s… different around the band than she is around me.”

“Gonna play the devil's advocate, maybe that’s for a good reason.” Josie looks down at the white-grey chicken alfredo in front of her. “You’re 16 in a few days, she’s almost 25 and most of the band is around her age. Whatever the hell happened when you were a kid happened as she was at least your age now. Whenever she met the band was probably around the same time she was figuring out the impact of your childhood, it makes sense.”

Malcolm shrugs. “Yeah, except for Cato. She met Cato only two years ago.”

Finn gives Josie a look. “Cato’s the short one with brown hair, right?”

He nods. “Yeah, when you guys came by to pick me up last week he was on the front steps.”

“Ah.” They take another spoonful of soup. “Well, this isn’t something we’re going to be able to figure out during lunch, so maybe table it for now?” Everyone nods, and they grin. “Cool, so I bought another deck yesterday.”

-

“Malcolm, it’s your turn.” Mr. Acosta announces, and Malcolm watches as his slides are projected onto the whiteboard.

He takes the clicker, stands to the side, and takes a deep breath. Countless nights spent in his bedroom working on something that, in the end, shouldn’t mean as much as it does. It’s not like this speech is worth a large part of his grade, or that he’s figured out some secret previously unknown.

He looks at the class of faces that he vaguely recognizes but will never truly know. A sense of unfathomable connection fills him, knowing that he is going to give a room of strangers a vulnerable corner of his heart that he’s never shown anyone else.

“Music has often been called the universal language.” He starts, pushing through the stewing anxiety in his chest. “It is as diverse and vast as the people who make it, and it can connect to people in a way that simple conversation can’t.”

He clicks the next slide, and it shows an old picture of Bardic Inspiration in a dingy basement, back when Michael was still playing guitar. “I found this picture on an old camera that Airael owned.” He turns on the laser pointer and points it at Airael, who’s leaning back with his eyes closed as he plays his old red bass. “And he remembers setting up that camera to take a picture every five minutes, and playing in a cramped basement that had maybe 15 people in it.

“It was one of their first gigs, and he told me that the thing he remembers the best is how loud everyone in the crowd was, and how it became part of the music already being played.”

Click. A picture of Bardic Inspiration at their last big concert. Even after spending so long looking at the two pictures, it’s astounding how different the three continuous members are from the first photo to the second.

Airael’s no longer thin and lanky, instead his body filling out from both easier access to food and his daily runs, Gemini’s hair is long and intricately braided, and her arms and face are free from scabs. Absinthe’s hair is dyed green and in its long, shaggy mohawk style; no longer matted in its original rusty reddish-brown color.

But the biggest difference is that they don’t look angry in the second picture. They look so incredibly happy.

Malcolm clears his throat. “This photo was taken about seven years later. I asked Absinthe,” He lasers Absinthe’s face. “What it felt like on the stage. She said it was like leading a choir into a loud, righteous song of joy and personhood. So it’s really easy to tell who writes the lyrics, honestly.”

There’s a slight laugh from the class. Click. “John Cage’s composition 4’33” requires that the players don’t make a noise, not from them, not from their instruments. Instead, the composition is made by taking in the sounds of the world around you. And it is both the experiences of hearing a crowd, and this one composition that I made my thesis: the telling of humanity is to hear music in everyday life.”

-

“So,” Finn glances at Malcolm as he closes the passenger door. “Whaddya think you guys are gonna do tonight?”

Malcolm shrugs as they shift the car in reverse, and slowly move their way into the line of ever moving cars. “Who knows. Probably get food and watch a movie. Maybe play a game.”

“You sound less excited now.”

“It’s not that.” Malcolm leans his head against the window and watches as they inch forward. “I’m just realizing that this is the first time in years I’ve had the ability to talk to her alone. I dunno what’s gonna happen.”

They hum, and watch as a car up ahead almost runs into another in their hurry to get out of the parking lot. “Well, from the few times I’ve met your sister, I don’t think it’s going to be disastrous.” They glance over at Malcolm, whose eyes follow the group of students weaving between cars. “But you can call me if something happens. I don’t have anything important happening tonight.”

Malcolm hums, shrugs, and closes his eyes. “I dunno. I just don’t.”

Fyn turns onto the road and starts driving towards Malcolm’s. They exhale loudly through their nose.  “Neither do I. But it’ll be fine, I bet. You two don’t hate each other.”

He turns to look at them, and a small smile makes its way to his face. “Yeah, she kinda gives a shit.” He looks back out the window, shoulders relaxed. “Kinda bad at showing it sometimes, though.”

They grin. “Oh absolutely. I would give so much money to know why she thought to get you a moped when you don’t have a license, and don’t want to drive anything like that.”

That gets him to bark out a laugh. “Apparently she misinterpreted me wanting the moped LEGO as me wanting an actual moped. Apparently.”

“Well let me know when you’re actually able to drive it around, I need to be a passenger at least once before we graduate.”

“We’ll see if I ever get around to signing up for drivers ed, maybe I like being chauffeured around for cheap.”

Fyn smacks Malcolm’s arm. “Don’t you fucking dare, Mal. I’ll kill you, I know where you sleep.”

“You’d have to get past Airael. I swear to God that dude never sleeps.”

“Oh woe is me, I’ll have to grapple with the cool ass bassist that lives on a different floor than you.”

“Don’t underestimate how quickly he can get places. Once Cato yelled that tacos were ready, and Airael went from being on the second floor in the room farthest from the stairs to the kitchen in less than 10 seconds.”

“Damn.” They whistle. “I’d like to see that in action one day. See if I can replicate it for my own nefarious means.”

Malcolm laughs, and sits forwards in the seat. Fyn turns onto the street that eventually leads to his house. “I don’t think I could handle that, if you managed to appear out of nowhere so quickly. Who knows, maybe I’ll suddenly get a Power and it’s appearing in a way that’s unsettling only to you.”

He shudders. “Oh that would be the worst, please no.”

They only wink and smile, but it slowly fades as they creep closer to the house. They slow the car down more and more, before coming to a stop a good 200 feet away from the front door.

“What the fuck.” They whisper, eyes wide as they count one, two, three, eight cop cars stationed in front of Malcolm’s house, and two cars from the Heroes Association. Multiple cops, and two Heroes stand in front of the house, talking. They turn to grab Malcolm, but he’s already unbuckled and starting to open the door. “Wait, don’t-”

Fyn tries to catch up once he’s out, but he’s so much faster. “Malcolm!” They yell, but he can’t hear them, he’s pushing past cops and steering clear of the Heroes and running inside. He almost slips, Gemini must’ve spilled something, something that smells bad and wrong and horrible and-

“Get back over here, kid!”

Someone is yelling his name. It might be his name, he doesn’t know, he’s staring at the kitchen he had just been in earlier and there’s a wolf four times larger than him in the middle with an uncomfortably familiar blonde coat that’s soaked red and eyes that look just like Gemini’s, but that can’t be her eyes since she’s a person and a human who can’t do anything but play the drums and beat everyone during game night.

In front of the wolf is another person, it looks so like Airael except his eyes are bright red instead of their normal dark brown, and his teeth are too sharp and in the wrong places and there’s no torso connecting his arms and his legs, only the one laying by the fridge, so it can’t be, it can’t be-

There’s a shoe peeking out from behind the wolf. A shoe that might have been doodled on with a familiar hand, if it wasn’t absolutely soaked with. With red.

Something grabs his shoulder and he wrenches himself free as he stumbles around and the shoe is attached to a leg with cuffed jeans covered in sharpie and something red (no, no it’s not, it’s not), and the chest is absolutely shredded but he recognizes the hands. That’s the bracelet he made Absinthe why is it here? That should be with Absinthe and she’s not here with the wolf with Gemini’s eyes and the Airael look alike.

But that’s her face. That’s her face on her head with her hair looking into the distance. Malcolm follows her gaze, hoping to see anything, any sort of answer to what happened. There’s nothing, just the cabinet that holds plates. His knees hit the slick tile (oh God, it is) and he shakes her shoulder.

Nothing happens. Not even inside him. There’s nothing. But if this is Absinthe, then-

“Hey, twerp, you need to get out. We got questions for you.”

Malcolm glances back and sees the bright colors indicative of a Hero. A hero whose costume is covered in blood.

He tries to cover as much of Absinthe’s body and face as he can. “Hey, hey if this is a dream you can wake me up now.” He begs. “Please, please just wake me up, please.”

There’s a cacophony of noise playing in his head, everyone is talking, there’s a beat in his ears, Absinthe is talking to him but it was from this morning, he holds onto how her voice sounds, and how the words are hers every time.

Two hands grip onto his arms, and it hurts.

“Leave me alone!” He screams, and he tries to push out everything that’s running around in his head and his chest, and the hands go away and it’s quiet. “Please, I just want them to be okay.”

The symphony of pain and agony rings out again in his head, and quiets. His knees don’t feel wet and sticky anymore. Neither do his hands. He opens his eyes (when did he close them?) and sees them, all three of them as he remembered them. Gemini and Airael are holding hands side by side, and Absinthe is smiling. It looks like they could be asleep. Malcolm pulls Absinthe’s body close, and it’s so heavy, but when he hugs it close it almost feels like she’s right there, just a little too cold, and he cries.

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Sometimes I am able to make little guys <- has never managed to draw characters at this size before

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

The three year anniversary of my original story, The Powered Universe (or TPU for short) is coming up in a couple of days (may 2nd) and so if people could send in asks about the story or characters or writing prompts I'd really love and appreciate that.

I have the whole shebang over on @powered-universe-official so if you want to read it go over there (i also have the first few chapters here under the tag #the powered universe), but if you wanna ask about characters I have the original three: Leto/Zephyr, Virtue, and Electrode. The original Bardic Inspiration: Cato, Virtue, Bug, Airael, and Gemini. The new four: Leto/Zephyr, Virtue, Electrode, and Malcolm. The new Bardic Inspiration: Virtue, Absinthe, Airael, Gemini, and Cato.

If you wanna know more abt a specific version of a character that is both old and new, pls specify! But I'd super appreciate it, this project has been so important to me and I've been working on it a lot behind the scenes so sending in any asks about it would be wonderful and lovely, thank you.

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

I will write a character study for all of them, but in the order of who got the most votes!

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

I'm intrigued please tell me more

Absinthe, lead singer and front woman of fictional band Bardic Inspiration, is killed alongside her drummer (Gemini) and bassist (Airael), leaving behind a younger brother (Malcolm), and two surviving members of her band (Virtue and Cato).

This death is the catalyst for two characters who are not the main characters of the story, even though by all means they should be.

Malcolm is stunted for the rest of his life because he refuses to acknowledge her death, and that he never actually understood his sister when she died. He is cold and an asshole through and through. Even though he is supposed to guide and protect Leto, the true main character, he fails time and time again because he doesn't understand either of those concepts for others. He dyes a piece of his hair green, wears his sister's band's t-shirts, hoping to keep a piece of her with him, but he doesn't linger on memories of her, or remember her as she was, only the idea of what a bond between them should have been based off normal sibling relationships. He's desperate to be a little brother again, and in his self hatred he stops himself from becoming anything but a cruel, cold adult.

Cato, now Electrode, connected to Absinthe and thought of her as a light in their life of darkness and misery. A lifetime of abuse, poverty, loss, death, anger, she was the first bit of perceived true kindness, and the violent, sudden loss that they could have prevented, mixed with a completely uncertain identity meant that they tried to keep Absinthe alive by becoming her. They dye their hair the same shade of green, take on the same over-enthusiastic personality, the same taste in music and presentation in a desperate hope to keep that feeling alive. The anger that festers because you can't keep alive what is already dead makes Electrode go from wanting to do genuinely good radical change to taking any means necessary for their end goal.

And poor, poor Leto, who never met Absinthe, never knew her or her band, is stuck between the pulling forces of these two separate tragedies who try and use her through the excuse of giving her something. Strength, perceived autonomy, a listening ear, while restricting all of those things because they don't know they're trying to fill something that's long gone, a wound never scarred over.

Aofuqjgjqovahf

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Tpu request!! Anything with Bardic Inspiration is just *chefs kiss* cuz i love them so much,, but hear me out- BI somehow gets teleported (or smth) from the past into like,, not exactly the present but just before the finale. I just love past characters meeting their present self okay. No pressure tho!!

Cato sits on the couch, watching as Gemini and Virtue fight each other in some game on the TV.

"I am going to kick your ass!" Gemini growls, furiously mashing the buttons on her controller.

"You sure can try." Virtue hums, calmly moving their character out of the way of each attack.

Gemini's character almost jumps off the edge on accident, just as Bug and Airael walk in with snacks.

Airael takes a bag of gummy bears from the pile and sits next to his girlfriend. "You good?"

Gemini tries to kill Virtue again, and fails. "Give me a gummy."

"As you wish."

One of Gemini's spells hits Virtue's character. "HA! I got yo- woah."

Virtue pauses. They look at Gemini, who's holding her chest, then lurches forward and does the same thing.

Cato can feel their heartrates pick up, and watches as it happens to Airael and Bug. Then, something seems to wrap around the inside of their ribs, and pulls.

"Guys?" Is all Cato is able to ask before there's a blue flash of light, and the living room is empty.

The group falls on top of a table covered in papers. It must be late out, because the windows outside are darkened and there's nobody in the room. Nobody, that is, except for a lanky kid with an eyepatch.

They stare at each other, in the dark, endlessly. Taking in everything they can. The kid is wearing a large coat and looks almost exhausted, in the way teenagers do. Then, suddenly, he disappears. Like he wasn't there in the first place.

Virtue is the first to speak. "Who the fuck was that?"

Bug is the second. "I have no clue."

The third is the sound of footsteps clanging on metal, a door opening, and light coming into the dark room.

The kid appears out of the doorway. Then, a person with bright green hair and neon yellow eyes. And then . . .

And then it's Virtue. But it's not Virtue, because Virtue doesn't look like the weight of the world is on their shoulders, and their hair is shorter.

"Look!" The kid gestures to the group, his voice cracking slightly. "Why would I lie about them?"

Not-Virtue is looking at the group, and then to the neon green haired person, and over again. "Electrode." They say, and that definitely sounds like Virtue's voice, but it can't be. "I don't remember this."

Green hair, Electrode, stares right at Cato with nothing but anguish and fear. "Yeah." Comes Cato's voice, right out of Electrode's mouth. "I don't either."

-

Cato learns that the kid's name is Nightmare, which . . . the other one's name was Electrode so that must be a thing. They learn that they're in a warehouse owned by Electrode, who must be some higher up who just happens to sound like Cato.

Currently the band is in what is called the 'caffeine room'. It's a room with over 15 coffee dispensers, and everyone has a mug in their hands.

"So." Nightmare sits on the table in front of everyone else. "How did you get here?"

"We were playing a game." Virtue says. "I was winning-" Gemini sticks out her tongue and Virtue returns the favor. "I was winning when Gem hit me with a spell. Something tugged at our chests, there was blue light and then we were here. I guess."

There's some strange look on Nightmare's face, almost wistful, in a detached way. That's when Cato realizes something.

"Wait, when I say Bardic Inspiration, what do you think of?"

Nightmare's face closes off almost instantaneously, the small gleam in his eyes gone and his face blank. "I don't know if I am allowed to say."

"Why?"

Nightmare turns slowly to Cato, eyes flicking up and down. The memory of their voice coming out of Electrode's mouth still weighs on them.

"I don't know if I'm allowed to say."

There's footsteps, and Nightmare looks at the entrance with a flicker of confusion. Not-Virtue appears from around the corner.

"Are they okay?" Nightmare asks.

"They're in the lab." Not-Virtue responds.

There's a moment of silence that fills the room as Not-Virtue and Nightmare watch each other. The lights flicker, and Nightmare disappears. The band turns and looks at Not-Virtue, who in turn looks at them.

They close their eyes, take a deep breath in, and slowly let it out. Their eyes open, and they stare directly at Bug. "Look. I am going to be as transparent about this as I can be without getting into Electrode's space."

"What's up with Electrode?" Gemini asks, putting her face into her hands. "Wait not like that. I meant, who the fuck lives in a warehouse this big in fucking New York, with at least three people?"

Not-Virtue's eyes move towards Gemini, staring at her with a near violent intensity. "You aren't prepared for that answer." They look back at Bug. "As I was saying, you all are from the past, as well as a different timeline than this one. Not too different until about an hour ago, but still different."

"How do you know that?" Bug stands up and crosses its arms. "What do you know that makes you so skittish around us?"

Virtue stands a little taller, and their shoulders roll back ever so slightly. "You know, having one of the people who works for you appear inside of your room yelling about people coming back from the dead in a flash of light is worrisome. Especially since their death fundamentally changed the course of history."

Cato's going to be sick.

"At least, three people back from the dead." They look at Virtue. "I never introduced myself. Hi, I'm Virtue, ex-manager of popular cover band Bardic Inspiration."

Cato misses how Virtue's eyes go over everyone but them.

"It's so nice to see you all again."

-

Electrode isn't panicking. No, they're not. They're not thinking about rotting corpses and mutilated bodies and blood and organs and screaming and-

No. Not thinking about it. They're not thinking about it.

Someone is behind them.

They spin around and see Nightmare at the entrance, watching, as he usually does.

"I know that this is hard for you." He starts, and oh what a way to start. "But, hear me out, there's a baby you in there. Who has no clue that you invented anti-gravity boots."

Okay yeah they're actually not thinking about it anymore. They have boots to put on.

-

Virtue . . . should stop hanging around Electrode so much. Or maybe more because seeing everyone devolve at that bombshell was actually funny. Or, well, it was until Electrode came flying in on their boots.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Airael yells as Electrode's boots power off. "I'm done! I'm done. There's only so much I can fucking take. Can I go to bed? I'd like to go to bed."

"There's a couch in the hallway to the lef- and he's gone okay." Electrode watches as Airael stands up and leaves, not that anyone blames him he deals with all of their shit. Then, they look at Cato. "Y'know, I was planning on having several mental breakdowns just now, seeing as how I was the one to see your corpses, but then Nightmare reminded me of something."

Bug moves to stand in front of Virtue and Cato. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing too important. Just that if you guys never came here, Cato there would invent anti-gravity technology."

Cato furrows their brow. "Wait, what?"

"You invent anti-gravity?"

"That's . . . that's a thing here?"

"Only for me, yeah." Electrode grins. "Plus a lot of other things. I've Rickrolled national television at least four different times."

Oh fuck. Cato thinks. They're me.

"Hey, what's with the look?" Electrode frowns, moving past Bug and standing next to Cato. "Sure, I'm horrifically traumatized and violent with a history of robbing banks, and am in charge of every villain known to man. But consider-"

"Consider what?" Gemini snarls, standing up and trembling with anger. "Get away from Cato or I'll make you."

Electrode ignores her, Virtue blends into the shadows and disappears from view. "Consider this: I've spent the last eightish years being able to invent whatever the fuck I wanted. Using the money of rich people. Also I know the future. Mostly."

Gemini starts to move to get Cato away, and Electrode's head snaps to look at her. "They don't know but I do so tell him now or go to bed with your girlfriend."

Gemini looks at Cato, mouths an 'I'm sorry', and leaves.

Bug turns around suddenly, pointing a finger at Electrode. "What just happened?"

Electrode sighs. "One moment." They look at Cato. "Y'know, you could use your Power for something other than controlling peoples bodies and nerves. Like inventing, or being a human battery, or something I dunno. And that law degree. Start changing the world."

Electrode turns to Bug. "So, turns out V is the only Unpowered one in BI. But also is the most important person in this timeline on my side so honestly who's the most powerful one?"

"Still you." Virtue (second Virtue?) appears behind Bug, who yelps and moves to leave their vicinity. "And your very intelligent plans."

"Only put together by you."

"Not really."

"Let me compliment you!"

-

ending here bc i could go on forever with this prompt but GOD i fucking love my idionts <333

[powered-universe-official]

i dont have enough focus for reading so i probably wont be able to actually read it (sorry, i don't even read my friends' work often and i feel really bad about it), but where would I find a short physical description of some of the characters in order to draw them for you? they all sound so cool jshdfg

that's all okay!! I will give you their physical descriptions :)

Electrode - very very short with bright green hair that's very fluffy (and one strand falls long over their ear). They have bright yellow eyes and are very pale. They have a lot of scars on their arms, and usually wear some random t-shirt, black cargo pants, and a black work belt with more pockets. They also have a lightning bolt tattoo on their wrist

Virtue - normal sized, light brown skin and dark brown eyes. They have medium length black hair that falls a little over their face. They usually wear all black

Leto - very tall, tan skin and light brown eyes. She usually looks scuffed up, and has long brown hair that's usually pulled back into a ponytail. She either wears her hero uniform (light blue suit with dark blue detail), or simple clothes

Gemini - shorter than electrode, fat with big curly blonde hair and brown eyes. She usually wears light pink or blue with a leather jacket, and is usually holding her drumsticks

Airael - tall, black with dyed purple hair and dark brown eyes. He wears jeans and band shirts, and has a lot of bat themed tattoos on his body

Bug - normal sized with black hair that's usually partially dyed different colors. Half of its face has a burn scar, and they have various tattoos on their arms and usually wear a long jacket that has its sleeves ripped off

Cato - short with short brown hair, brown eyes, and usually wears a jacket with a band shirt and jeans. They also have scars all over their arms and hands.

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

The Least Favorite Child

Cato, 18. First interview

“Nervous?”

Cato looks up to see Bug looking at them through xyr mask. The singer sits in the chair next to Cato, shifting to face them. 

“I get it.” They say. “I was nervous the first time too. Still am, actually. You never know what those guys are gonna say out there.”

Cato looks at Bug with surprise. “You still get nervous for interviews?” They ask, and Bug laughs.

“Of course! You don’t control the questions and that’s so fuckin scary.” He ruffles Cato’s hair gently, standing up. “Now c’mon, it’s about to start.”

Cato follows Bug to where the rest of the band is standing, and they take their seats in front of the interviewer. 

Deryl Applebottom is a tall and very kind man. He has a natural charisma surrounding him, and his questions are more fun than invasive. 

He asks the band what their favorite animals were (Cato telling him that they’re fond of lizards), and smiles when Airael starts to ramble on about bats. He even asks Cato how it feels to be the band’s newest member.

“It’s like finding home after being lost for so long.” They admit. “Everyone here is like family. We care for each other and help each other succeed, and I’ve never been happier.” Cato smiles while saying that last part. It’s true, after all. They’ve never felt happier in their life.

Deryl leans forwards after that, eyes locked onto Cato as his smile becomes more teeth than lip. “And do you regret the pain you put your actual family through?”

Cato distantly hears the rest of the band loudly call the interview off, and someone gently pulls them out of the room. Blood is pounding in their ears, they can see Bug in front of them, mouthing words, and then darkness.

-

First   Previous   Next

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Dead Hearts

Cato, 19. The beginning. tw for violence and death

Cato is halfway to their room when the shouting starts. They can hear Gemini and Airael’s voices get louder, and a new voice full of bravado try to match their volume (it’s useless, Airael is their dedicated screamer and Gemini lived in a house with 12 people).

They reach their door when the first scream rings out. It’s Airael. There’s the sound of a door opening, and Virtue rushes out of their room. They look at Cato, eyes wide with fear and worry. 

‘What’s happening?’ They mouth, and Cato shrugs, moving past them to sneak down the stairs.

There’s the sound of something smashing into a wall, and Bug’s voice yelling at the intruders. His voice is thick and wavering and angry. Cato gets down enough to see them standing over the limp body of Gemini and what used to be the body of Airael. 

There’s a hero. A hero and a small squad of police. 

Cato watches as Bug, trembling, bandages shredded on the floor, tries to take a single step towards the group. Tries to move before getting torn to shreds by bullets and a Power. If it wasn’t for the fear that these people would do something to Virtue, Cato would have screamed.

Instead, they carefully sneak up towards Virtue, covering the manager’s mouth with a shaky hand, and motioning to stay quiet with the other.

‘Pack up.’ Cato mouths, mimicking the action of putting things in a bag. ‘We’re leaving.’ They gesture to the two of them, and hook a thumb over their shoulder. Virtue nods, having gotten the message.

The pair quickly throw some things haphazardly into some backpacks. Virtue has all of the cash that there was, some clothes and cleanliness products, and a computer. Cato throws in food, all their money, and clothes. For a moment, they stand at the edge of their room, before grabbing the CDs that the band had recorded last week and shoving them in as well. 

Cato gestures for Virtue to follow them, opening Bug’s window and slipping out onto the roof. They sneak to the back, dropping down with minimal noise. Adrenaline is rushing through their body. Had this been the first time they’ve done this, Cato would probably be shaking. Years of experience gets rid of that. 

Virtue is staring down at Cato, trembling. They slowly move to where they’re hanging off the edge, and drop. They stumble, but Cato takes their arm and drags them to the fence. There’s no time, they need to leave. 

“Give me your bag.” Cato whispers. “I’m gonna hoist you up.”

Virtue is confused, and scared, and in no position to argue. They give Cato their backpack, and let Cato lift them so that they can crawl over the fence. In the back of their mind, Virtue wonders how Cato is so eerily calm in this tumultuous moment. 

Cato throws the bag over and scales the fence, landing carefully. They grab their bag, and turn to Virtue.

“We need to get to a motel, and fast.” Cato says. “We also need to get out of this yard. Just follow me and try not to freak out too much, and try not to pass out, ok?.”

Virtue nods, silent. Everything is happening too fast. They’re supposed to be the collected one here, not this 19 year old kid who’s 7 years younger than them (how are they so calm?).

Cato leads Virtue through the streets, taking alleyways and dodging as many cop cars as possible (what the fuck happened in the house?), until the pair reach a small motel. Cato walks in easily, greeting the person at the front desk with friendly familiarity. 

“Who’s this you got with you, C? ‘Nother runner?” He says, looking Virtue up and down.

“Leave them alone, D.” Cato grumbles, rummaging around their backpack and slamming down some cash. “How many nights?”

‘D’ rolls his eyes, and counts the money. “Bout four nights.”

Cato nods. “Key.” D gives them a key. They stand there for a moment, then whisper something to D. He softens slightly, putting a hand on Cato’s shoulder.

“Five nights. Family discount.”

Cato punches his shoulder, and walks down one of the halls. Virtue spends no time following them, walking into a small two bed room. Cato throws their backpack onto one of the beds, and puts the key on the drawers between both beds. 

Virtue slumps down against the closed door, trying to keep their panic at bay. 

“What . . . Cato. What happened?” They ask, barely able to keep their voice from trembling.

Cato doesn’t move, facing away from Virtue.

“They were slaughtered.” They choke out. “All three of them . . . they’re gone.”

-

First   Previous   Next

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Wannabe

Cato, 19. An explanation.

Bug is sitting at the dining room table when Cato comes back inside. They aren’t wearing any mask, instead covering his eyes with medical bandages. The fluorescent lights in the dining room make the scene feel almost sterile, if it wasn’t for the worn table that had seen so many meals and games and good memories. 

Cato sits down.

“I would like to apologize.” Bug says as Cato scoots their chair forwards. “We should have told you much sooner. You’ve been a part of the family for over a year now, it was unfair to keep such a large secret from you.” 

The formality in xyr tone and words is freaking Cato out. Bug doesn’t do formal. Ey don’t own anything more fancy than a nice t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and everything ey do is loud and bright and energetic. Something feels distinctly wrong.

“We were going to tell you after a few months, but we forgot. So I offer an explanation, if you would like that.” Bug continues. “If you would like to leave, you may as well. I only ask that you don’t tell anyone. None of us are registered, for various reasons. We would prefer for it to stay that way.”

None of us? Cato knows they should say something about how dangerous that can be, but then they’d be a hypocrite. They already are. So a bigger hypocrite. 

“I . . . I don’t want to leave.” Cato starts, trying to figure out how to put their words together. “But I do want to know what’s happening.” I should tell them-

NO

Bug nods. “We all have Powers. You saw Gemini’s. She can shift into a Dire Wolf. It was a late Power activation and has only had it for about a decade, so she doesn’t have as good control over it as other shifters. Both me and Airael decided to hide ours to avoid condemnation. When Airael has anything raw or drinks blood, they get a large energy boost and become physically stronger. I can send my emotions through music, as well as be able to sense the emotions of anyone making music. It’s-”

“How you picked me.” Cato interrupts. “Virtue said you don’t just pick anybody. You used your Power to feel who was the best fit?”

He simply nods. 

“Does- does Virtue have any powers?”

Ey shake eir head. “Virtue is Powerless. Just a very, very, very good manager.”

Cato takes a deep, shaking breath and slowly stands up. “I-I’m gonna need a few days. This is . . . a lot.”

“I understand.” Bug says. “Take as much time as you need.”

Cato turns around to see Gemini and Airael coming down the stairs, and walks past them without a word. They’re being petty, but it still stings. 

And the doorbell rings.

-

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[transmogrified-in-the-void]

What a Wild Tune

Cato, 19. Big Break 1 of 2

Cato is looking at some of Airael’s notes that they had given them the day before. While Cato is a naturally talented guitarist, Airael is still 7 years older than them, and it’s not like their ex-guitarist hangs around anymore. 

They decide to ask the bassist for clarification on some highlighted parts, walking to Airael’s room. Cato knocks gently, hearing snoring in response. They open the door to see Airael sleeping under a giant wolf.

So, obviously, Cato screams “What the fuck?!”, causing both Airael and the wolf to fall off the bed, out of Cato’s view.  Up pops Airael, quickly followed by . . . Gemini?

“What the fuck?!” Cato repeats. “Where did the wolf go?!”

“What wolf?” Airael asks, voice cracking. 

“The wolf that was on top of you!”

Airael narrows their eyes, thinking. “Oh. That was Gem.”

Cato turns their attention to Gemini. “WHAT?!” They start to feel very twitchy, which doesn’t help with their surprise.

Gemini blushes and averts her eyes. She starts to fiddle with her fingers nervously. “Uh, so I may have been hiding something from you.” She laughs softly, like she’s trying to make a joke but doesn’t believe it’s funny.

Cato takes a deep breath, reigning in their emotions. The twitching stops, thank all things holy. “No shit.”

“Look, kid, if you want to leave I understand-” Gemini starts.

“I’m not a fucking kid, and I’m not leaving.” Cato interrupts, clenching their fists. “I’m actually happy with you guys, and when I perform, and I thought that maybe everyone was right about what a family was. Maybe they still are, I dunno, I’m fucked up.” Are they crying? Maybe they’re crying. “I don’t care if you’re- you’re Powered or not, or why you hide it from press ‘n’ shit. But-” shadowed eyes and fake smiles “but you didn’t have to lie to me!” Yeah, they’re crying. “Fuck, sorry. I’m makin’ it about me. Sorry. Fuck.”

Gemini and Airael don’t know how to respond. Cato tries to remember if they ever had a break like this in front of anyone here. They don’t remember. They don’t think they’ve ever had a break like this in front of almost anyone.

They always mess things up in the end, don’t they?

-

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[transmogrified-in-the-void]

Concert Apples

Cato, age 18. Concert 3

Cato’s fingers fly across the frets, falling into a groove as the rest of the band plays. This is their third show since being announced as Bardic Inspiration’s new guitarist, and they’re surprised how easily the anxieties went away once they started playing. 

Bug is front and center, moving as they sing. Their words excite the crowd, which is screaming with enthusiasm. It’s not like they’ve never been to a Bardic Inspiration concert before, the band doesn’t exactly make records, but it’s such a different feeling to be the one on stage.

This song is one of Cato and Gemini’s favorites. It’s fast paced for both of them and helps get rid of their excess energy. It’s a classic song anyways, the performance Bug gives is absolutely electric and is part of what sent them into infamy.

The song ends, and Bug holds up a hand.

“So I made a last second decision.” They admit, and Gemini laughs. That was part of getting ready for the tour, knowing every song forwards and backwards. The band sometimes swapped out songs last minute if they were itching to play something specific, and Virtue (the manager, keys, and backup guitarist when needed) told them that this was a common occurrence.

The crowd roars, excited to know what the switch was going to be.

“As you know, we recently got a new guitarist. Say ‘hi’ Cato!” They wave at Cato, who smiles and waves at the crowd. “Michael found his calling, and we’re very thankful to have Cato here. So I thought, to show just how fuckin’ good they are, we’d do Cecily Smith.”

Cato’s heart stops for a moment. That song is one of their favorites, not that they’d admit that to anyone. 

“I’m down.”

The smile Bug gives them is full of joy, and it’s clear how giddy he is as Cato exchanges their electric guitar for an acoustic.

They start playing, letting the familiar music flow through them. Bug joins in, and their voice is dripping with the melancholy love that fills the song. It’s magical, and Cato feels absolutely electric.

They finish, plucking the last note and letting it ring out through the silent concert hall, and then there’s a raucous applause. A giggle rises out of Cato, a violently positive energy filling their core. 

For the first time, they feel like they’re truly living.

-

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