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thecrewofthecoppercoloredcupids · 4 years

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What Could Have Been #2 - The Frost King's Treasure

As published, this year's Cupid Christmas feature, The Frost King's Treasure, ended with the reveal that a certain villainous camelid was behind the mysterious invitations sent to various members of the Cupid cast. But earlier drafts of the story featured alternate endings. Keep reading to take a gander at two of these scrapped, unfinished endings, in which the culprit turns out to be Larrikin-1029 and Lord Thymon, respectively.

Frost King Larrikin:

The mountain's top was a large valley, like the crater of a volcano, surrounded by walls of stone on all sides. The valley was covered in snow, much like the rest of the mountain, and in the center of the valley sat an extremely tall throne of ice. It seemed to the eyes of the weary mountaineers that a figure was sitting in it, although the light reflecting off the snow and the sheer height of the throne made it hard to tell for certain. It might've been nothing more than a few shadows playing tricks on their eyes. Off to the side, a few pieces of metal and wiring were scattered about.

"Have - have we arrived? Is the treasure here?" Neezley cast his gaze about the valley.

All of the others were wondering much the same thing.

Dandy was staring at the possible-figure in the throne. It - the general shape of it, anyway - looked familiar, somehow.

"Hello, up there!" he shouted.

"Quiet, you fool! That could be anything up there!"

The shape in the throne shifted slightly, turning what could have been its head toward the group.

Dandy stepped forward.

"Are you the Frost King?" he shouted over the howling wind, "Or do you know where his treasure is, at least?"

The figure - it was definitely a figure, Dandy could now tell, although he still couldn't make out more than a silhouette - seemed to look down at him.

"Dandy? You're finally here! Ya must've got my letter, then!"

Dandy stared up at the throne, aghast.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He coughed a bit.

"Larrikin?" he wheezed. "Larrikin-1029? Is... that you up there?"

Larrikin-1029 slid down the side of the enormous ice throne and landed next to Dandy.

"I hope ya brought your Fog Ship!"

By now everyone else had gathered around.

"What is going on here? Why is there another blasted Cupid?"

"Let me tell ya the full tale..."

"Please do."

Larrikin's Full Tale

"It's like this: I was assigned to do a bit of romanticisin' here a few weeks ago as a punishment for destroying several Fog Ships - entirely by mistake, o' course. They said I couldn't go home until I'd romanticised a thousand souls. Until then, the Fog Ship they'd assigned me wouldn't take me back to th' Homeworld."

"I'm with you so far..."

"Well, I decided to "pull a Juliet" (I think that phrase'll catch on), and dismantled my Fog Ship. Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out how t' put it back together in any configuration. There it is."

Larrikin pointed to the metal scraps by the throne.

"Ah."

"So, unable t' get home and trapped atop a mountain, I was pretty bored, as ya can imagine."

~Here alternate ending one ends.~

Frost King Thymon:

"Have - have we arrived? Is the treasure here?" Neezley cast his gaze about the valley.

All of the others were wondering much the same thing.

Dandy was staring at the possible-figure in the throne. It - the general shape of it, anyway - looked familiar, somehow.

"Hello, up there!" he shouted.

"Quiet, you fool! That could be anything up there!"

The shape in the throne shifted slightly, turning what could have been its head toward the group.

Dandy stepped forward.

"Are you the Frost King?" he shouted over the howling wind, "Or do you know where his treasure is, at least?"

The figure - it was definitely a figure, Dandy could now tell, although he still couldn't make out more than a silhouette - seemed to look down at him.

"DaNdY? iS tHaT yOu?"

Dandy stared up at the throne, aghast.

That voice. That awful, soul-piercing voice.

Dandy opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He coughed a bit.

"Lord Thymon? Is that you up there?"

Thymon (for that was indeed who it was) floated down from the throne.

"HeLlO, dAnDy."

The rest of the group had gathered around by now.

"Who is this?" the Earl hissed.

The Crocodiles looked somewhat reverent.

Tarsa eyed the demon as if she was trying to remember something.

The Tavern group stared, wondering why that terrifying being who had showed up at the Tavern on Halloween was here.

21-419 wasn't sure what to think about all of this, so he opted to walk around and see if he couldn't locate the treasure.

"Thymon?" Dandy asked, leaning on his umbrella (a tricky feat when the ground was covered in ice and snow), "What is going on here? Are you the Frost King? Did you kill him and claim his title? What, as they say, is the deal?"

"I sHaLl TeLl YoU tHe TaLe."

Thymon cleared his throat, with a sound like hundreds of cats coughing up fireballs while scratching a dimension to shreds, and began his story.

"It WaS aLl ThE cHrIsTmAs ChEeR tHaT cAuSeD iT..."

"Caused what? Caused you to come here? What about the treasure?"

~Here ends alternate ending two~

And there you have it! Two heretofore unseen alternate endings! Stay tuned for more "What Could Have Beens" in the weeks to come!

#What Could Have Been #cupids #cupidverse #The Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids #Larrikin-1029 #Lord Thymon #The Frost King's Treasure #Deleted Scenes

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thecrewofthecoppercoloredcupids · 4 years

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What Could Have Been #3 - The Scrapped Alchemist Story; or, who are Minbare and Sherit, anyway?

A few weeks ago, we published a story titled Stranded at Memory’s End, in which Marksmanship, Tracker, and Bibliophile found themselves in a realm made up of people and things that have ceased to exist. Among them were a few things that even the most savvy Cupid reader probably didn’t recognize - including two mysterious nobles known as Lord Herry Minbare and Countess Anmida Sherit, and a strange, flying beast with both fur and feathers. So, where did these most extraordinary characters originate from? Why, a scrapped draft, of course!

The story below, penned by Lupan Evezan, was abandoned midway through production - and now we’ve posted it here, for your reading pleasure (hopefully)!

Lord Herry Minbare was locked in a fierce battle of wills with the Countess Anmida Sherit.

Both had a claim to the Empire. They were cousins, the late Empress Regnant had been their grandmother. As no intermediate relatives still lived, and the two nobles were fairly equal in station (titles held no real meaning among the nobility anymore), they both had about equal claim to the post of Emperor or Empress of the Northern Isles. The official governing body of advisors was more or less a sham, a ploy to make it seem as though all decisions were not made solely by the ruling official (which they were), and so there was no real way to decide which of the two would rule.

But one thing was certain: they would have to work it out quickly, before one of the other nobles decided that they had ought to claim the position themself.

Countess Sherit had invited Lord Minbare to dinner at one of her estates, supposedly for the purpose of working out the issue once and for all. Minbare suspected an assassination plot, and had brought no less than thirty of his own soldiers, who were now posted around the large hall. He had also brought his own meal, which he ate instead of the food Sherit had provided. This, she felt, was the height of all rudeness.

"Listen, Minbare." The Countess began nonchalantly. "We have to settle this somehow. You know how eager Earl Rabare is to snatch the position. Why, with his army, he could have it done already - he's trying to follow the old customs, I suppose, but it won't last long."

"No, I don't suppose it will." Minbare took a bite of the poultry he had brought with him.

Sherit glared.

"Then what do you propose we do?"

Minbare simply shrugged.

Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.

"We could... turn it into a duarchy?" Sherit suggested. "Rule together?"

Sherit absolutely did not want to share power with her halfwit cousin, but she also didn't want to have to settle this by violence, if it could be helped.

"No, I don't think that'll work for me." Minbare took another bite of the poultry.

"Enough!"

Sherit knocked the bird out of his hand and stood up.

"If you're not going to settle this in a civil manner, then I have no choice but to best you in a duel."

"Ha! Best me? Hardly likely!" Minbare chuckled. "But, go ahead. Set the conditions. When will it be?"

"Now. Here."

"Here? Now? With what?"

"Poison."

Sherit produced a small, clear vial containing a sickly greenish liquid.

"Venom of the Naddersnatch."

"How, exactly, do you duel with, er, poison? Going to throw it at each other?

"No. A servant is going to poison one of these." Sherit held up two biscuits. "Neither of us will know which. We'll each choose one. Whoever eats the poisoned one will die. The other rules. More of a battle of luck than of skill."

"Ha! As if I'd agree to that. Of course you'll know which is poisoned beforehand."

Well, that wasn't quite the plan. She would know, but this wasn't Naddersnatch venom at all - just a dormaficient, an elixir to induce sleep, made from one of the common weeds which grew in the woods that made up much of her lands. Minbare would eat the biscuit, lose consciousness, and a servant would transport him to some far away place from which he could not return. The empire would believe that he was dead, and Sherit could take the throne. It wasn't a great plan (and it was in fact her secondary plan, after Minbare foiled her first plot to slip the stuff into his food by bringing his own), but it was the best she had at the moment. She couldn't try anything sneakier, with Minbare's army occupying the place.

"Oh, come now, I'm more honorable than that!" she protested.

"You are not! Don't you remember the time you pushed me into the Great Lake so you could win the royal games?"

"When we were children, Herry? Really? Can you hold a grudge that long?"

"I nearly died! Anyway, I'm not eating your poisoned biscuit, and we're obviously not going to settle this tonight! Farewell!"

Minbare stood and walked swiftly to the nearest exit into the vestibule.

Sherit pulled a sword from the wall.

"Fine! Then we'll duel the traditional way. Draw your weapon!"

Minbare chuckled.

"Very well."

He drew his own sword.

"To first blood?"

"To death."

The two nobles crossed their swords, signalling the official commencement of the duel.

Suddenly, a blinding flash filled the hall, and a cloud appeared just above the table.

Minbare and Sherit looked up, bewildered.

A copper head peered over from the top of the cloud. A winged creature leapt down.

It was a strange being, formed of metal in the image of a cherub - although real cherubs were far more terrifying than this. It reminded Sherit of the golems employed by some of of the old wizards of repute.

"What are you, creature?" Sherit inquired.

"A sign from the gods?" Minbare suggested.

"Er, hello. I'm from the Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids. I'm supposed to romanticise someone around here...."

The creature turned its head from side to side.

It spotted a sad looking maidservant standing at wait in a corner.

"Ah-ha! You!"

The creature produced a bow. It nocked an arrow. It drew the bow and fired at the girl.

The arrow hit her. It was obviously an enchanted arrow, judging by the fact that she did not die. Instead, she smiled.

"Why, I feel good! Very good! In fact, I think I shall go out into the world and sing!"

The girl rushed out the nearest door, singing.

The nobles blinked, unsure of what was happening.

"Right! That's done!"

The creature turned and seemed poised to fly back up to the cloud.

"Wait, wait!"

The being turned.

"What are you? Where did you come from?" Minbare asked, inspecting the cloud. It was a ship, he realized, cleverly disguised.

"I'm a Clockwork Cherub! You know, a robot! I'm from the Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids - we travel the Multiverse, you know, and romanticise people!"

"Multiverse?" Minbare inquired.

"Yes - all of the dimensions and universes and realms and such that make up... well, everything, more or less!"

"You mean to say that there really are other universes?" There were legends, of course, but even the wisest wizards surely believed that they were only that.

"Sure! I've got to be going - nice meeting you!"

The Clockwork Cherub leapt back up to the cloud, which vanished.

The nobles stared for a moment.

Then Lord Minbare turned and ran into the vestibule and out of the estate.

****

With a sputtering pop, a Fog Ship materialized in the Void. The pilot of the ship managed to steer it into the parking lot of the Interdimensional Tavern and leap out. The ship was in a terrible state of disrepair.

But it hadn't been, moments before. What could have gone wrong?

The Cupid who had been piloting the ship opened a hatch in the front and gazed in at the inner workings of the ship. The dematerialisation circuit was there - but the dimensional warp drive was entirely missing. Without it, the Ship could leave one dimension, but not quite warp into another. The two bits were meant to work in tandem - the ship was useless without one.

"But where could - ?"

Suddenly the Cupid remembered that rather nosy gent who had been poking around the ship.

Blast. The Parliament won't like this.

Well, there were bigger problems at hand. The Cupid needed to get out of the Void, somehow.

First, though, he decided to pop in to the Tavern and have a drink.

****

Deep beneath the Minbare Palace was a twisting maze of catacombs, at the very center of which was located a laboratory.

Not a Prime Earth sort of scientific research laboratory. Nor a mad scientist type of laboratory (although it was closer to that).

No, this was more of an alchemist's laboratory. Perhaps a wizard's laboratory. A laboratory of dark magic.

The laboratory belonged to Lord Herry Minbare, and he was there now.

Minbare was an alchemist, although no one knew it. It was his secret. It was the secret of the Minbare family, passed down from antiquity, along with this laboratory.

"Other universes - it really is true! All of my research was not in vain!"

Minbare produced a bit of circuitry from his coat.

"And this! This is the missing piece! This is what I need to complete my device!"

Minbare thought a moment.

"Well, I hope it is."

The lord strode to the center of the laboratory, where an intimidating creation towered over everything. It was carved from materials Minbare had researched extensively and determined to be conducive to opening a dimensional rift - the topic he had been researching ever since he first heard, from a wizard to whom he had apprenticed in his younger years, that there may really be other universes out there. And now, proof!

Minbare set the thing he had stolen into his device and turned on a low electrical current beneath the monolith. The circuitry began to spark and then hum. The entire creation followed suit, buzzing and humming intensely. A flicker appeared in the area in space directly above the device. It flickered and began to warp, until it finally tore through the fabric of reality and became a rift.

"Yes! Yes!" Minbare began to cackle like a villain in a Prime Earth cartoon show, not that he knew what that was.

His fit of laughing was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a strange, twisted creature with a tooth-filled beak, glaring eyes, and horns. It was covered with strange mix of fur and feathers, and had claws and talons.

"Er, master?" the beast snarled. "Your evening tea, master?"

Minbare glanced over.

"No, no! I'm in the middle of something! Go away!"

The creature bowed and retreated.

Minbare had created the beast, along with others like it. They had been among his first creations, formed from the bones of animals and given life with an elixir he had brewed.

He called them the greckles.

~Here ends the draft~

Stay tuned for more “What Could Have Beens”!

#What Could Have Been #Lord Herry Minbare #Countess Anmida Sherit #The Greckles #cupids #The Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids #cupidverse #Deleted Scenes

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thecrewofthecoppercoloredcupids · 4 years

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What Could Have Been #4 - The Penultimate Pursuit’s Alternate Opening

Yesterday, we published the penultimate tale of the Rifts Saga - aptly titled The Penultimate Pursuit, or: Chased! As published, the story opens with Marksmanship, Tracker, and Bibliophile flying through the Void in a ship borrowed from the Interdimensional Tavern - but, in this scrapped alternate opening, we witness the events that transpired immediately beforehand - those which occurred in the Tavern immediately after the Cupids’ return from the Oblivion!

"Come on, Neezley, it's not like you're using it for anything! We just need to borrow it for one trip, and then we'll bring it back!"

Tracker-764, the Mad Cupid of the Euclidean Plane, stood in the dining area of Volensholagoz’s Tavern, Grill, and Schmporp-Rehorbbler, arguing with Alistair Neezley, famous braggart.

"But I need it for my rip-roaring adventures throughout the Multiverse! I'm supposed to visit the Plains of Thought later today, and tomorrow I've got an appointment in the Kyarthoop Citadel!"

"Well, we actually have to go to a real place, so our thing outweighs your thing."

Neezley crossed his arms.

"Those places are real! Ask anyone! It's common knowledge!"

Tracker thought for a moment, then turned to Bibliophile-962.

"Are those places real?"

"I don't know, probably. The Multiverse is infinite, so everything must be real on some level. But your appointments in those places, Neezley, are absolutely not."

"Forget it! Find another ship!"

"Fine. We will!"

Tracker stormed off, followed by Bibliophile.

Marksmanship-522, their other companion, was in the kitchen, talking to Tpxszum, one of the Tavern's waitstaff.

"So you need a Void Ship?"

"Right. Do you have one that you could loan us? It's rather important."

Tpxszum scratched her chin.

"Well, we do have an old one out back - but you'll have to get Volensholagoz's permission if you want to borrow it."

Marksmanship cast his eyes toward what appeared to be a tennis ball perched upon an armchair in the corner.

"Er... right. Okay."

The Cupid approached the chair.

"Erm... Volensholagoz? Could... could my companions and I borrow the Tavern's Void Ship? We'll bring it right back, of course."

Volensholagoz remained perched upon the chair, as seemingly-inanimate as ever - as far as Marksmanship could perceive, anyway.

He turned to Tpxszum.

"So... can I?"

"Weren't you listening? Volensholagoz clearly said that you could - as long as you promise to keep it in good condition."

"Er - right. I promise. Where is it?"

"Just through here."

Tpxszum opened a door behind one of the kitchen's counters. A small corridor stretched beyond.

"Great! I'll go fetch my friends."

Marksmanship soon found that he didn't have to do any fetching after all. Bibliophile burst in to the kitchen, dragging Tracker by the arm.

"What in the Homeworld are you doing?"

"I had to restrain him! He tackled Neezley and tried to steal his keys!"

"I didn't want to do it, but asking politely didn't work! Nor did arguing! Force was the only option!"

"You sound like Larrikin. We can't just go around tackling people and stealing their vehicles, even if it is the "only option"!"

"Well, it isn't the only option." Marksmanship interrupted. "Volensholagoz has kindly agreed to let us borrow the Tavern's ship." Marksmanship gestured down the corridor. "It's right through here."

"Ah, lovely! Let's be off, then!"

Tpxszum handed over the keys, and the three dashed down the corridor, followed by the hound, who had been sniffing around the kitchen trying to steal a scrap of food, much to the chagrin of the Tavern's cook, SERIAL CODE 000000234.

The narrow hall led into a cramped garage with a missing wall. Most of the available space within was taken up by the Void Ship - a battered, bulky-looking thing that looked as if it hadn't been used in years. Filling the remaining area were stacks of paper - mostly old Tavern menus - and unfamiliar tools that were probably intended to service the Ship when it was in regular use - if it ever was.

The Cupids climbed over the assorted objects and stood before the Ship.

"Do you think it can still fly?" Bibliophile asked. "It doesn't quite look... up to par."

"No, it doesn't - but what choice do we have?"

Marksmanship unlocked the door and pushed it open. The group climbed in.

The Ship was outfitted with seats that looked as if they had once been comfortable, several decades ago. Tracker sat on of them.

"Gah! What kind of fabric is this? Did they make it out of used burlap sacks?"

"I don't care about comfort, so long as it gets us to Tarsa's Workshop in one piece."

Marksmanship got into the driver's seat. A rear-view mirror hung from the ceiling, although Marksmanship couldn't imagine why, given the fact that the Ship was not outfitted with a rear window. A pair of plush deltohedrons hung from the mirror, and Marksmanship was reminded of a gambling game that he had once played with a group of tough-looking fellows in the Tavern.

"Right, everyone ready? Brace yourselves for, I don't know, some kind of terrible death or something."

"How does one brace themself for terrible death?"

Marksmanship shrugged and turned the key in the ignition. The Ship started with a noticeable lack of exploding engines or sudden combustion.

"We're off to a good start!"

Marksmanship input the now-familiar coordinates of Tarsa's Workshop and hoped that he wouldn't end up yet again in some new wildly unlikely situation. He took the controls, and the Ship flew out through the missing wall and into the nothingness of the Void.

#What Could Have Been #The Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids #cupids #cupidverse #Rifts Saga #Deleted Scenes

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thecrewofthecoppercoloredcupids · 4 years

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What Could Have Been #1 - the original draft of Incident Report C300A

Back in February, we published a tale about the recent Doings of the Decade Stone. And, while the finished story featured the very first appearance of the Vormerschuiving species and led into Planet of the Shapeshifters and the "Rift Saga", the original draft was rather different. Below we present to you, for the first time, the unfinished first version of Incident Report C300A, featuring (among others) Frankenstein-818, an evil puppet, and Pessimist's television set. Enjoy!

~ As any Cupid knows, the lovely, stable clouds which fill the Homeworld and on which our buildings are built wouldn’t be nearly so lovely or stable if not for the Decade Stone, a large crystal located deep within the Mainland Cloud and named for the rather frustrating fact that it expels a large wave of whatever sort of energy it contains at the start of each Prime Earth decade, causing things in the Homeworld to become, for lack of a better phrase, rather odd. For further information, we gladly refer you to Fact File #2020, available for reading in the Cupid Archives. After the recent turning of the decade, the Stone released its decennial blast, and, as usual, caused quite a bit of chaos, which we shall detail herein.

The first sign of trouble was noticed by Technophile-963, who reported that none of his various gadgets and gizmos were functioning properly - and, what's more, the computer system of the Homeworld, based in Technophile's workshop, was on the fritz as well.

While this was initially written off by the Department of the Decade Stone as a coincidence, probably caused by one of Technophile's inventions malfunctioning, it soon became clear that this was not an isolated incident.

Doctor Sigma-063 of the Celestial Foam Network soon reported that every technology at his department's disposal had ceased operations as well - including every Fog Ship in the Homeworld. Meanwhile, Frankenstein-818 ran from his castle in a panic, shouting that his inventions had turned on him and were trying to usurp his role as master.

This caused quite a bit of alarm in the Homeworld, of course - while our positronic brains and clockwork bodies are unlikely to be affected by electronic disturbances, the loss of our many other technologies left us unable us to do our romanticising throughout the Multiverse.

At first, it seemed that the Decade Stone's energy burst alone had simply upset the systems of all electronic devices in the Homeworld, but it soon became clear that it was more complicated than that. Acting on a hunch, Pythagoras-858 of the Department of Problem-Solving asked Technophile to build a new device. The inventor quickly whipped up an automatic jelly-maker.

Upon testing the device, Technophile was surprised to find that, despite it having been created after the energy was released, it exhibited the same properties of the devices which had been affected; that is to say, it flopped.

It was thus decided that the Stone must have introduced some sort of force into the Homeworld which was preventing electronic devices from working. A joint investigative team made up of the Problem-Solvers and the Scarlet Wings were dispatched to investigate, and soon stumbled upon something rather odd.

Examining Pessimist's television set (they had decided that he wouldn't mind; he never turned the thing on, after all), they discovered that it seemed to be in working order. But, upon closer inspection, it became clear that the television was only able to show one channel, and not one broadcast by the Department of Home Entertainment.

The only show on this mysterious channel was what appeared to be a children's television program, featuring a sock puppet of some sort. As the Cupids watched curiously, the puppet seemed to notice them, and began to speak directly to them, telling them that it had taken control of the Homeworld's technologies and refusing to return them until the Cupids met its demands.

The television was carted out of Pessimist's house and to the Department of Problem-Solving's research laboratory, much to the protests of Pessimist, who, it is generally suspected, did not really care but felt that he had ought to complain nonetheless.

Questioning at the laboratory yielded no especially direct answers from the puppet, but it soon became clear that the Decade Stone had introduced some sort of energy-being into the Homeworld, which had taken on the image of this puppet for ease of communication. The being's demands turned out to be rather simple - it wanted a physical form, and it wanted us Cupids to make it one. ~

Here ends the draft, and the short tale of the evil electronic entity - but maybe, someday, it will show up in a proper story. Until then, we'll just have to imagine that it's out there somewhere in the Multiverse - perhaps corrupting the files of the Drove of the Database-Compiling Dromedaries, or proving a worthy adversary for the Order of the Automata.

#What Could Have Been #cupids #The Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids #Drafts #Stories #The Drove of the Database-Compiling Dromedaries #The Order of the Automata #Cupidverse #Deleted Scenes

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thecrewofthecoppercoloredcupids · 3 years

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What Could Have Been #5 - The Haunting of the Tavern Alternate Opening

The first of our 2021 Halloween specials - The Haunting of the Tavern - featured the revelation that the infamous Great Ghost had managed to pull himself out of the Spirit Realm and into the Cupids' favorite interdimensional haunt (no pun intended). Indefatigable specter that he is, he accomplished it with nothing but his own ghostly will.

However, an earlier version of the plot would have seen the Ghost receive a bit of assistance from two other recurring villains in his scheme to manifest among the living. Although this was scrapped, part of an alternate opening had already been written - we now present it below!

High above the streets of a sleeping city, pitch-dark clouds framed a sanguine moon – its red-orange glow illuminating the raven-winged form of a shadowy figure. As the bell of the local church began to toll twelve, the figure ducked into a crumbling building – a theatre, long abandoned by its troupe and left to rot away.

“Darius! Get the @*%# in here!” the mysterious figure called. The sanguine moon continued its nocturnal illumination as a second figure rushed down the street – although, if the celestial body were permitted to voice its private thoughts, it might well have proclaimed that the silhouette of this personage was hardly as suited to such atmospheric lighting as the first, camelid and vaguely pathetic-looking thing that it was.

Still, the moon did, in fact, continue to shine as the former Head Assistant Researcher of the Drove of the Database-Compiling Dromedaries joined his companion in the derelict playhouse. Blackheart was already perched on the edge of the rickety stage at the back of the building.

“I’d ask what took ya so long,” she grumbled, “but, well, I guess your sloth-like pace is already pretty well-established at this point.”

Darius crossed his arms.

“That little monster punched me in the abdomen! The abdomen! I could have died!”

The dromedary felt nervously at his midsection.

“I still could, you know! I think this is how Houdini went out!”

“Don’t get my hopes up, camel-man. And believe me, I know. I really didn’t think a Cupid named ‘Bibliophile’ would be so fast.”

Darius, forbidden from the stage (which was, as she had repeatedly informed him, ‘Blackheart’s territory’), sat cross-legged on the floor where the long-removed gallery seats once resided, muttering to himself in a mocking impression of Blackheart’s voice.

“We’ll attack the documentarian, Darius! He won’t have any love arrows, Darius! It’ll be fine, Darius! I’m going to kill you, Darius!“

Blackheart threw a crate at him. He caught it between the eyes and sprawled across the floor, then threw his arms up.

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? We’ve failed yet again – surprise, surprise!”

“Don’t be so sure, llama boy.” Blackheart replied, rummaging around in her satchel. “Sure, we didn’t take his life, and we didn’t take his ship – “

“Which is to say, neither of the things we were attempting to accomplish.”

“But – “ the Discordia growled. “That doesn’t mean we came out of it completely empty-handed.”

Her hand clasped around the object she was searching for, and she pulled it from the bag. It was a book – thin, with a black cover.

“Wonderful. Reading material.” Darius huffed. Blackheart threw another crate, then continued.

“No, camel-man. Somethin’ a bit more useful. Somethin’ that might actually help us. Somethin’ that actually managed a Homeworld invasion, once upon a time.”

Darius looked up, his interest piqued – but Blackheart was already running off to the storage wardrobes. He sighed, then followed reluctantly.

****

“This is ridiculous.”

“Shaddup.”

“This is utterly, patently ridiculous.”

“Shut up, bactrian-breath!”

“Ghosts? You really want us to talk to ghosts? That’s your plan?”

Blackheart looked up from the ring of candles placed in the center of the stage.

“Seriously, camel-man? You’re a talking dromedary and I’m a sapient robot, but ya draw the line at ghosts?“

“Yes! Mutants and robots are… you know… science!” Darius sputtered. “Ghosts… ghosts are… they’re campfire-tales!”

“Magical toymakers – bloodsuckin’ aliens – retconnin’ crocodiles – ” Blackheart continued, counting off on her fingers. “Eldritch monstrosities – interdimensional taverns – incorporeal wraiths… all fine, but ghosts are campfire tales?”

Darius stared at her for a moment, weary. Then he sighed.

“…fine. Yes. Great. Continue.”

She did.

#What Could Have Been #The Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids #cupids #cupidverse #halloween #great ghost #darius #blackheart #discordias #Deleted Scenes

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