It's been a year and a half. Of course Larkspur still hurts, but constant agony has given way to a dull ache most of the time. There are still moments where he breaks down, sometimes when he's reminded, and sometimes out of nowhere, but for the most part, he's able to go about his life almost as normal.
More and more, he allows himself to heal, to accept his reality. He's no longer jealous of his sister or his boyfriend. He's even been able to tolerate spectating most of the Entrails' matches.
Sometimes, the saddest thing to him isn't that he can no longer interact with his Palisman, but that Lark's loved ones can't. Lark can feel the glow in his own chest, but the same can't be said for his friends and family.
Lately, in his dreams, he senses that familiar golden warmth not just in his heart, but also beside him. It's moved slowly outward, as he moves onward. Tonight, the presence is almost staggering, almost tangible.
Then he feels a small creature alight on his shoulder. He doesn't need to look to know who it is, but he does anyway. Of course he does.
You'll see me again, Flapjack had said to him back then. Lark didn't dare to hope that it would be literal, but at least here, now, in his dreams, the bird is as vibrant a red as he was when they first met.
They don't need to say anything. Their shared love is understood. For a time, in that nebulous dreamspace, they just sit and enjoy one another's company.
When Lark wakes, it's with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips. The weathered carving he sleeps with is as pale blue and motionless as ever, but this morning, it doesn't sadden him. He runs his thumb fondly over Flapjack's crest before rolling out of bed to get ready for the day.
Some weekends, the squad comes with him to the forest. When he isn't carving, Lark helps Willow and Dell tend the palistrom trees with Plant magic. The rest of the group does what they can physically, planting and watering saplings and keeping the area clean and safe.
Everyone socializes with the older Palismen who've yet to find their witches. It would make sense for their numbers to lessen as more of them bond with their partners, but more and more have actually seemed to venture out of the old forests in the time since Belos' defeat and the fall of the Coven system, almost faster than witches can take them in. Which is fine by Lark, really. He's happy that they feel safe enough to show themselves. And even with their magic helping some of the trees grow large enough to harvest a branch or two here and there, the palistrom forest is still so thin that he feels guilty with each cut he takes.
Once all the trees have been checked on, and the wild Palismen are entertained, he contemplates the latest branch. Having carved a couple dozen by now, he has a good idea of how many he can make while wasting the least amount of wood. He stares long enough that he feels eyes on himself as well.
Someone eventually asks what they're all wondering. Is he ever going to carve for himself?
And, as he has each time he's held a block in his hands, Lark considers it. But today, unlike every other time, he doesn't feel an overwhelming longing to do so. He feels lighter, somehow, as if a long-shouldered burden has been lifted.
"No," he answers with both softness and finality. "I don't think I need to anymore. I just want to help other people find their partners... I want to make up for all the damage I caused. Hopefully... put more kindness out there than all the hurt, you know?"
It makes sense, in a way. They've all been there for him since he lost Flap. They've all seen his growth. Luz and Gus as his siblings and Willow and Nico as his partners all have sad but knowing smiles for him, in their own ways.
Just as he sets the branch down to start his cuts, something in the canopy moves. A figure swoops down toward him, and if it weren't for the color, Lark would swear he knows the silhouette. But the old bird-shaped Palisman that lands on his outstretched hand is blue.
They stare at one another for a moment before Lark lifts his other hand to stroke its head. Come to think of it, he does recall seeing this one among the others occasionally, but it's never approached him before now.
"Nice to finally meet you," he says with a relieved, breathy laugh.
Waffles coos in response, and he understands her.
My little Lark, I've been waiting for you.
.
.
.
[[ as a note: i had this planned before anything was confirmed. i know her name was confirmed waffle singular and hunter carved her himself. i don't care. :) this is my blog and i do what i want. ]]
[A grainy video goes up at some point in the night. Diluc is toasting the crowd one last time. He’s in the middle of talking about Windblume and the importance of Mondstadt and its people.
He finishes up by wishing everyone a good evening and a safe trip home. Just when it seems to be done, he clears his throat and glances toward whoever seems to be holding the camera.]
“Also, I am gay, please do not send me flowers. Thank you. Good night.”
ok so ⚽️ and 📚, same question: "What do you think your future holds?"
⚽️: Preteen (10-12 yrs)
Leon is showing off the cut-up bedsheet Hop made for his personal superhero, twirling around in the homemade cape. Having just successfully defended his title for the first time, the Champion is grinning ear to ear as he settles in and strokes his hand appreciatively over his Tyranitar’s hide.
“We’re going to protect Galar and face all its strongest trainers!” The determination in his eyes easily matches the flame on Charizard’s tail. “But we’re never going to give up, or lose. Not on Galar, and not on the pitch!”
📚: Young Adult (19-25 yrs)
Leon looks exhausted, and wholly uncomfortable at the question. It was probably foolish to think that losing his title would spare him from interviews. His hand stiffens on Charizard’s back, for emotional support as well as physical. He no longer stands up tall through the pain or hides the bruises and cuts from their recent run-in with Eternatus.
“I don’t know,” he answers without meeting the eyes of the asker. “But Charizard and I will get through it together.” They always do.
Before Bae could turn to run from what he'd seen, it grabbed him around the base of his tail and swung him over it's back. In all his years of being around other creatures he still wasn't used been attacked, not unprovoked at least. Bae flailed and shrieked, kicking as the beast swung him hard into the ground, not once, but twice. Ouch! Definitely stunned and panicked, Bae discharged all the stored electricity in his body and horns, knocking the attacker back and onto the ground, equally as stunned, if not more. The beast stumbled to it’s feet, shaking itself off before lumbering back into the surrounding trees and brush. After being zapped like that it certainly wasn’t feeling up for trying Bae again.
Deviljho's warm welcome was not what Bae was expecting this afternoon. At least he fended it off with minimal injuries...
If one were to ask what your flaws are, they would be hard-pressed to give a single answer. Within you are countless faults that are entwined to the point not even a magic genie would be able to change a singular aspect of your person without changing the past from years ago. However, there is one flaw that is at the root of almost all others: your hubris.
For years you’d been hiding in the sewers out of fear. As paranoid as you are, there really are people looking for you. People who would want to hurt you, kill you, or kidnap you to keep you locked in a room as a human lab rat. Your fear had outweighed your pride, keeping you operating in the Sumps and underbelly of Zaun for years now. But things had changed.
You had Diego now. You had gone up to Piltover, caused absolute mayhem and destruction, and you’d gone up to Piltover by yourself to rob high-end establishments without anything going wrong. You’re clearly strong and sly enough now; you didn’t have to be so fearful.
It was only a matter of time until you got too comfortable.
You had gone uptown just to steal supplies. Being a wealthy trade city on the sea, Piltover had access to things that no where else did. Sure, you could get it on the black markets of Zaun but maybe things required knowledge of connections or they were of questionable quality. You would know; you’d gotten most of your pain medication from dealers in Zaun and sometimes it was literally mixed with a saline solution. If you wanted assured quality, you wanted Piltover.
As you pointed your crossbow at a cowering woman, demanding she hand over all her goods --”For the last time, I don’t want your money! Just hand over all of your window cleaner!”-- someone must have alerted her. Perhaps she’d been following two steps behind you this whole time and had been waiting for you to slip up. Or maybe she’d always been two steps ahead of you.
The moment you stepped outside with your ill-gotten goods, your eyes catch movement for just the slightest second. It happens so fast that it’s a miracle you move in time. Caitlyn is known for her excellent aim with her sniper rifle. Even when she misses the headshot, she still hits you. The bullet embeds itself into the muscle of your shoulder, shattering the bone there.
You drop everything with a pained squeal, stumbling back and grabbing your shoulder. Blood oozes out from the wound, unnaturally thick and a blackish red as if it was dirty. She takes aim again and you run, darting around the wall of a building into an alleyway. The chase is on.
As you run, officers start to show up to cut you off, Hextech weapons in tow as they take shots at you. In your panic, you miss how your blood trails behind you in splattered droplets on the paved ground. You run. You keep running until you find a sewer entrance. All pipes lead to home. The sewer system of Piltover is connected to that of Zaun, you just have to travel downwards and you do.
When you toss the manhole cover to the side and jump into the gently slopped spiraling pipe that you’re safe. Then you hear shouts above, people chasing you. A man jumps in after you and you take a few shots at him with your crossbow while he takes a shot in return. He’s not Caitlyn but the bullets hit your chest.
Pain blossoms in your chest, burning like it was on fire. It’s suddenly hard to breathe but adrenaline makes your heart race. Your aim isn’t much better but what shots you do land fill your attacker with toxins that cause him to fall to his knees in a matter of seconds. It all happens so fast and yet it feels so much longer.
More people start to drop into the sewer, one of them being Caitlyn, and you run. That’s all you can do is run and run, darting through the different tunnel systems, dipping under the water in an attempt to hide the blood trail you leave behind. They might have a world-class hunter on their side, but this is your territory. You know where to go in this labyrinth. It hurts though, hurts to the point that your vision is blurry and you can’t think straight. It hurts so much but you can’t stop or you are certain you’ll die.
After almost twenty minutes of dodging and ducking through the maze of tunnels, you think you may have actually lost them. You keep descending, lightheaded and staggering through the refuse. Eventually, you make it do the familiar tunnels of the Sump, where your lab is.
You practically trip over your own feet as you enter the cold, dirty, dimly lit room. It’s the same as it’s always been but it terrifies you. Your heart is pounded and it’s a struggle to breathe. The unnatural thickness of your blood probably saved you from bleeding out quickly with the unfortunate side effect that you would bleed out slowly.
It’s a few stumbling steps over to your single mattress on the ground and you drop yourself on it like dead weight. You pull your clothes off, trying to stop the bleeding but you can’t get your hands to stop shaking. Your clothes are absolutely soaked in your own blood and sewage water, and soon the mattress is covered in blood too. It hurts, and you’re scared.
You’re going to die alone here. No one will ever even know where your body is. You’ll never see your papa or your brothers or your mama again, and they’ll never even know what’s happened to you. A sob crawls up from your throat, and another, and another.
Everything feels distant and out of focus, the only thing keeping you grounded is the fear and the pain. Finally, you manage to grab your phone and send a barely coherent message to Diego, your bloodied fingers staining the screen. You’re going to die here and it’s terrifying.
There’s an egg! What’s an egg doing here? Where did it come from? It’s going to need taken care of if it’s going to hatch…
[Val’s enough of a nerd to know that thing looks exactly like a Pokemon egg. Which is exactly why it’s suspicious. He is definitely running a scan on it before he touches it, much less brings it inside.
… Huh. No explosives. Totally organic! Not a trap from one of the many neighbors he’s pissed off.
… … Clearly one of the planet’s native or invasive species just happen to lay eggs that look exactly like Pokemon. Yeah, that’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.
… … … Yeah, okay, he’s curious enough to hold onto it. Maaaybe he’ll look after it in the Biodome, though. Because Cassius is totally qualified to deal with wild fauna in the event it hatches while he’s away! Totally. Definitely not because Val is a little scared of it and doesn’t want a surprise baby alien monster running amok around his house.]
