a continuation to this!!! i hope its a worthy sequel. 4.5k words.
the storm is always howling.
feinberg stares at the key to the main door in his hands, before returning his gaze to silverr's slumbering figure. he brushes stray hair out of his face, fingers lingering for a millisecond longer than necessary. silverr does not move.
silverr's been asleep for a while now, almost since the endless snowstorms began.
it started a week after the first devastating storm. feinberg had noticed, silverr's movements seemed more sluggish than usual. he wouldn't've batted an eye, but he knew who silverr was, and what he was made of. behind closed doors silverr showed him the wilted petals and droopy leaves he hid from everyone else, buried under an attitude of confidence, and brighter petals and leaves. feinberg had held his hands and told him they were going to figure something out. he doesn't know if it was to comfort silverr or himself.
it only got worse.
silverr's flowers started wilting more, becoming something he could no longer hide, and a problem they had no solution for. the first petal fell a only few days after he had told feinberg. then he plucked off three dead leaves, accidentally. next, a whole flower, once a vibrant yellow, simply fell from silverr's arm. he had cradled it silently, while feinberg could only watch in despair. his movements grew more slower, less precise, and he grew more prone to dizzy spells.
his eyes, bright like the sun, faded, his skin turning a sickly pale colour. the bright colours he wore only highlighted it further.
and then one day he collapsed. feinberg had caught him, it wasn't the first time he'd fallen, but it took a worrying amount of time for silverr to regain his bearings, far longer than usual. after, he had went to lie down, to rest his head. he hasn't woken since.
feinberg places a kiss to his forehead, before leaving the room, gently closing the door behind him. the wind continues to shriek.
he remembers the way infume had looked when silverr couldn't hide his wilted petals anymore, the guilt on his face. it worsened when mongey had left.
feinberg sees him sometimes, in front of silverr's room. he never enters.
he grips the key harder.
his plan has to work. he's the only one among the rest of them who knows what it's like to wield similar powers to hax and who won originally. he can't let it wait any longer, not when infume managed to sniff it out of him. they both know each other. the only thing that prevents infume from leaving is the key.
he gets in his bed.
he's... scared. what if his plan fails? what if it's all for naught? he can't let down the others, he can't let down silverr.
he breathes. he has to get this done. setting the key under his pillow, he decides to leave the next day.
the wind only gets worse as he tries to sleep. the storm leaves no mercy, and the wind batters against the walls. it almost sounds like there's a beast prowling outside with how the wind roars like an animal. somehow he manages to fall asleep despite all the noise.
.
feinberg wakes to light. it's not unusual, light filters through the grey clouds, but something's off about it all. but, since he's up, he should probably get dressed and iron out more details for his plan, it's too vague for his liking.
he checks on silverr, still asleep, before getting ready. just as he's about to find his gloves, he hears altoid scream, "the storm is gone!" from the common area, and gears click. feinberg rushes out to see it for himself. he's the third one outside, the other two being altoid and tiger. everyone else filters in after, in various states of sleep. he looks through the window.
"holy shit," there's no sight of the clouds that once covered the entire sky. he has to cover his eyes from all the sunlight being reflected by the copious amount of snow on the ground. even though all the snow's not gone, it's still something. the others go to see for themselves while feinberg goes to sit on one of the sofas. he stares at the others' reactions before frowning.
he looks again.
infume's missing.
erik sits beside him, yawning.
"what do you think happened?" she asks.
"dunno,"
maybe infume's still sleeping. he probably stayed up late watching the storms and the snow as he usually does.
"did you hear the storm last night?" tiger asks. "i swear something was hitting one of the buildings."
"really? i thought that was a dream." feinberg says. he remembers waking up to the sound of a big bang, but his mind was so sleep-addled he thought he was dreaming.
"i thought the wind finally managed to rip off a building or something." darvy says, still looking outside.
"are you trying to find proof?" tiger asks.
"maybe."
then he notices a piece of paper, folded. feinberg's heart drops. it can't be, can it?
"why was the wind so loud?" altoid asks. he gets ignored.
feinberg gets up and heads straight to infume's room.
the door is ajar. the door is ajar, and the bed's not made. the door is ajar and the folded paper is infume's.
he goes back to the common area, where the mood is light. he sits back down in his original spot and does his best to ignore the dread in his stomach. nemerald looks at him with a questioning glance. conversations die down as everyone slowly begins to notice infume is missing.
the change in atmosphere is palpable as they all notice the folded note.
"it's- it's not, it is?" someone asks. feinberg can't tear his gaze from the paper. he picks it up. unfolds it.
"what does it say?" someone else asks tentatively. feinberg swallows, before reading out infume's note, trying to keep his voice level.
.
the room is silent as feinberg finishes reading the note. he tries not to let it slip out of his hand as he puts it down.
"what does he mean by not letting someone else die?" altoid asks.
"it was me," feinberg breathes, "i was gonna go out and stop hax. i had a plan, a really vague one."
"why would you go out then?" nemerald asks. "you know what happened to mongey."
"i thought i could take hax's power from him."
"how?"
"i.. i don't know."
"how did infume find out?" nemerald asks. feinberg can't look him in the eye.
"he confronted me about it." the words come out of him robotically. "he figured out i had a plan, and i told him it. oh my fucking god, i told him."
"but the door was locked, how would you leave?" nemerald presses.
"i had the key." his confession leaves a stunned silence in the room. all feinberg can hear is tiny voice telling him it's his fault. erik covers their mouth.
"i saw infume last night, before i went to bed." he whispers. "he was staring at the snow like usual." i was the last one that saw him alive goes unsaid.
"it's- it's fine, you didn't know," feinberg says, "i should've-" he breathes, "i should've known."
there's a sort of muted shock that comes with grief, it isn't all that different from the days after mongey had left. it's familiar and it's not. it's unfamiliarity terrifies feinberg but it's familiarity makes him sick.
feinberg finds himself at the front door. the lock is broken, and cold to the touch. extremely cold. do all ice creatures have ice powers?
he goes to open the door, but someone pulls him back. it's nemerald.
"are you crazy?" his sweater feels different.
"the storm's gone," he mumbles. nemerald sighs, but doesn't let go.
"i have a jacket-"
"i'll go with you."
"no." feinberg looks at him, pleading. i have to do this alone, i don't want you to see me like this, i don't want you to see what i'll become.
nemerald looks apprehensive. "i'll look after silverr." he acquiesces. feinberg holds nemerald's hand, a silent thank you, and then he's going into the snow, determined.
though to do what he's not sure.
maybe infume's still alive. he has to be.
the storm is completely gone, but the snow isn't and feinberg is careful treading through it. despite how much his legs ache, he pushes through, maybe infume lied. an elytra would be nice. the thought makes him snort out loud. the sound is drowned in the vast expanse of white.
though, if he had an elytra, he probably wouldn't have noticed the odd, unnatural indents in the snow and on the buildings.
he thinks back to tiger's words. something hitting the building last night.
did infume mean ice creature in the literal sense? the thought causes his stomach to drop, so he shoves it away. infume isn't dead.
...the snow is a pain to move through. he ignores the unease he feels and keeps going forwards. he's rewarded with a clearing in the snow, and an odd structure in the centre. he ignores that in favour of something coloured red and green.
it's a scarf. hax's scarf, and his hat not too far away. he collects them. even though hax was the reason behind all of this, he was one of them. on second thought he also collects the lumps of coal next to hax's scarf. they feel important.
there is nothing of infume left behind.
he just has to go further. he needs to go further.
infume was never one for accessories, but there has to be something, anything.
feinberg's eyes land on the central structure in the clearing, the thing he was avoiding, and he can't look away.
it depicts an odd dance between two people, one of whom is floating while the other remains on the ground, with ice swirling around them. ice spikes circle the two sculptures, if they can even be called that. they float and their shape is twisted and curved and they are multiple different sizes. the floating one wears a scarf, and a hat most likely, while the other one has bear ears, polar bear ears. the one on the ground is reaching their hand out, either asking or threatening, since feinberg can clearly see claws on both his hands.
feinberg can't look away. his eyes take in every little detail. the unravelling legs. the sharp teeth. the unnatural eyes. the fucking hoodie drawstrings.
he can't deny the identities of the sculpture. not any longer.
he falls to his knees.
infume was right.
infume was right.
their corpses are in front of him and infume was right and infume is dead. and so is hax. he laughs, a bitter, strangled sound. the sound gets carried away into nothingness.
he stays like that, on the ground, clutching his arms, ignorant of the sun now starting to set.
the wind picks up, natural wind this time, and feinberg panics.
his only way back are his footsteps, which are going to get covered by the wind, and it's getting dark, and he doesn't have a flashlight, and he's so far out-
he forces himself to stand, his legs protesting the movement, and rushes back home.
surprisingly he doesn't get an earful from everyone, he'll have to thank nemerald later, but he does get a few unamused stares, and a warm drink shoved into his hands. he tells them about the frozen figures of hax and infume he saw, and he shows them the scarf and hat, and the coal, and doesn't meet their eyes when he doesn't show anything belonging to infume. altoid suggests looking further, after the snow has melted, but even then it's halfhearted at best. all feinberg can do is hope.
.
under the veil of night, he weeps, as quiet as he can, to a comatose silverr. nemerald finds him and places a hand on his shoulder. he only weeps harder.
.
recovery is slow. the next day feinberg wakes to check on silverr and sees little green buds on his arm and in his hair. it's isn't nothing. he places a kiss on silverr's forehead.
recovery is slow. the snow melts, but because of the copious amounts of snow, what's melted freezes back up into ice. they have to be careful on their escapades out the house.
recovery is slow. feinberg isn't part of the group that goes back to inspect the frozen monument. he isn't part of the group that discovers more unnaturally generated ice spikes and patches. he isn't part of the group that finds where mongey had died, his body preserved from the cold, but he joins them through the struggle of digging him a grave, and giving him a proper burial.
it's sort of expected, when each group comes back with nothing of infume's. he tells them it's okay and that he isn't disappointed despite their disappointed looks.
feinberg is, however, part of the group that explores the remains of nerdi's tower. or, the group that tries too. there's so much ice everywhere, and from their inspections, hax and infume were most likely there too, with big broken ice spikes littered in the area. they have to come back another day when there isn't the threat of being skewered by a spare icicle.
on their way back, feinberg says he's going to head back to the monument. he gets some waves and stay safe's as he breaks away from the group.
he finds it, the snow still around the statue. darvy explained that there was some sort of ice magic involved in some amount of distance around the figures. fitting for ice creatures, feinberg had thought.
"you're so stupid, y'know, telling us not to miss you." something flares in feinberg's chest. he looks at infume's face, or what's supposed to be it. it's somewhat unrecognizable, with the sharp teeth.
"you really thought that i wouldn't- that we wouldn't miss you." he balls his fists. "that we'd stop caring after seeing your note." he stares at infume's statue, angry tears forming.
the only thing that he can feel is anger. anger at infume. anger at himself. anger at the unfortunate circumstances. anger at infume essentially thinking he was a sacrifice.
"you f-fucking idiot, it was never your fault, it could've never been your fault! you-! why did you think your death was the only way!" he kicks at the snow angrily, almost tripping as his foot goes effortlessly through it. it makes him angrier, but the only thing to show for that are the tears steadily streaming down his face. he falls to his knees, his burst of anger giving way to the sheer grief trapped in his very being. sobs rack his entire body.
"i miss you," he says quietly, "i do. the others miss you too, y'know." he sits like that for a bit, staring at the ground before he looks back at infume.
"we found mongey's body," he starts, "the cold preserved it, and we gave him a funeral. or like, we tried to." he chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes. "it was so hard to dig through the frozen dirt." he runs a hand though his hair. "it's kind of unfair y'know. you left nothing, like nothing for us to find, other than that note. i found hax's hat and scarf. and some random lumps of coal." he looks over to the statue of hax, noticing the odd lumps on his face, before looking back to infume. "we all miss you and you left nothing for us behind to.. to remember you by. holy shit that sounds so stupid out loud. your stuff's still in your room, unless it all grew legs and walked away." oddly, tears begin to form again at that sentence.
"i still haven't entered your room. it's so pathetic," he sniffles. "no one has. it's still.. too fresh. it's probably so goddamn dusty."
he takes a shaky breath.
"silverr's getting better. he hasn't- he's still asleep, but there's buds n' stuff growing on him again. he's.. he's gonna be fine."
"i don't blame you for it- his condition," he adds quietly.
"thank you," he whispers. he gets up and leaves. there's still a mess of emotions in his chest, but it's much lighter now.
.
two weeks after the storm cleared, he opened the windows in silverr's room, to let the air circulate.
recovery is slow. painfully slow. the buds take their time, but they do seem to get greener with every passing day.
feinberg draws back the curtains, letting silverr absorb some of the sunlight since it's still too cold for him to be carried outside. the snow is taking it's sweet time to melt. darvy says it's probably because of the residual ice magic.
it's four weeks after the storm cleared. feinberg hasn't gone back to the monument, despite leaving the building whenever someone forces him to get fresh air. he's not ready to face whatever residual emotions are left. he also still hasn't entered infume's room.
silverr is beginning to look better. some colour returned to his face, which feels kind of funny to say considering how pale he normally is, but it's not nothing.
feinberg's asleep again in a chair pulled up to silverr's bed. it unintentionally became a habit, after returning from the statues for the first time. after seeing the buds, he begun telling silverr his daily activities, but in much more detail. he'd started talking to silverr a few days after he entered his comatose state, but it was only a few sentences here and there, and he only told him if it was something significant, something worthy.
he's in a state of half consciousness, the edge of slipping back into sleep, when he hears something. it's faint, but he can't describe it. he opens his eyes and-
and sees silverr's eyes slowly blink open. they're unfocused at first, getting used to the light and the sensation of being awake, but they then land on feinberg and widen in recognition. he tries to speak, but can't, so he tries to lift his hand to see what happened to his throat, but feinberg, fully awake, places a hand on his shoulder. his skin buzzes at the contact.
"i'll get water," silverr's hand manages to grab a part of feinberg's jacket as he gets up, but his grip is weak and the fabric slips through his fingers like sand. despite this, feinberg gets the message and sits back down. he holds silverr's hand and squeezes it, and he weakly squeezes it back. he blinks furiously at feinberg and shifts from side to side.
"you want to sit up?" he tries to sound affirmative, but he barely makes a squeak. feinberg completely understands him though, and helps him sit up, gently guiding him through what he was doing. feinberg holds him until he's sure silverr won't immediately fall back down. as he lets go, silverr immediately buries his face in the crook of feinberg's neck.
feinberg holds him until someone brings a bottle of water.
recovery is slow. silverr hates being bedridden, but he needs to build his strength again. except building strength takes time, and he's been asleep for so long, and does he really need someone to be with him all the time whenever he wants to walk around?
yes, feinberg tells him after he over-exerts himself, who else would carry you back if something like this happened?
oh shut up, silverr had responded, i would've figured something out.
yeah right. silverr then proceeded to kiss feinberg on the cheek.
recovery is slow. silverr is restricted to eating simple broths and soups after not eating for some time. none of the speedrunners are doctors, but they don't want to take any chances. he says it's fine, he'll just eat sunlight later.
in the nights where silverr thinks feinberg is sleeping, he thanks him for the company and for the stories.
eventually silverr is able to walk without his legs shaking, and eat solid foods since he didn't have any adverse reactions after a week and half. he'll have to have a long derust session.
"can i go outside now? " silverr asks, plopping himself down on feinberg's bed.
silverr didn't have any visible reaction to the news of infume's death, mongey's death, or hax's death.
silverr is not one for big displays of emotions. feinberg knows this. yet there wasn't the slightest shift in his face as he was told the news. it was almost like he didn't process it despite hearing it.
and that scares feinberg. he doesn't know what to expect when silverr sees the grave or the statues.
and he's not sure he can face them again.
"the snow's still everywhere and there's ice." he sets his glasses on the nightstand.
"so?"
"it's still cold."
"c'mon, i haven't been outside in ages."
"it's only been six weeks since you woke up."
"six weeks is plenty of time." feinberg stares at him, not budging. silverr sighs.
"i want to.. i want to see it." feinberg looks away. silverr instantly pivots. "i mean, i don't know where it is, i just don't want to get lost, but um, the ice is bad and-!"
"we can go tomorrow."
"...you're sure?"
"yeah," he says, ignoring the dread in his stomach, "tomorrow."
the night simultaneously feels like the longest night ever but also feels like it passes by in the blink of an eye.
.
silverr is not amused when he has to wear multiple layers, a thick scarf, a hat and gloves, but feinberg says it's for his safety and everyone's peace of mind.
they visit the graves first. the tombstones were carefully carved. each is marked by a name, in the front and centre is mongey's, and behind his are infume and hax's. hax's hat and scarf are decorating his tombstone. it's the only one with decoration.
"only mongey's is a grave," silverr says, "the other two are cenotaphs, they don't have bodies under, or corpses. remains."
"how do you know that?" he just shrugs. feinberg's eyes widen in alarm as silverr plucks off three of his flowers from his hair, gritting his teeth to do so.
"silverr-" he then goes and places them at the grave and cenotaphs.
"you're supposed to leave flowers, right? it feels wrong only hax's cenotaph has stuff," he clarifies. "it would've hurt less from my arm but i'm wearing too many layers." he adds after feinberg's mouth still open. he doesn't meet feinberg's eyes, still facing the stones. "take me to the statues."
the walk is somewhat silent save for their footsteps, and the occasional 'are you alright?' if one of them slips. feinberg is both glad and not. the silence lets him focus, but it also lets the emotions in his head swirl out of control. he's holding silverr's hand, both to keep him from slipping and for comfort. he hasn't come back since his outburst, and he's not sure how he'll react this time.
he pays attention to the snow noticing how much has melted, to try and take his mind of things.
the moment the statues are clearly in sight, silverr stops. feinberg turns and raises an eyebrow. do you want to head back?
silverr takes a deep breath before continuing. feinberg squeezes his hand and they continue forwards.
they go past the ring of snow surrounding the statues. silverr pauses again. then, he lets go of feinberg's hand. takes a step forward. takes another. stares at the statues before he turns around and abruptly leaves. feinberg spots small tears running down his face, and sees the way he grips his arm, the one covered in vines. he takes a look at the statues before turning back to go after silverr.
back at base, erik pushes a hot chocolate into silverr's hands, a mug in their own hand. he mumbles a thanks but doesn't linger. they're about to jokingly say feinberg can get his own mug, but don't after seeing his expression. feinberg tells her he'll get his own mug later and goes after silverr. he finds him sitting on his bed, thumbing over the rim of the mug. feinberg sits on the chair seemingly permanently glued next to his bed.
"i remember hearing you cry," he starts, "when i was asleep. it was about infume. i thought- i thought i could handle it- my emotions. fuck," he says, wiping some stray tears. feinberg stays silent. he takes a sip of his drink before continuing.
"i feel like shit! i don't feel as sad as i should, and... and.. i dunno. i feel like.. i feel like i should've.. at least bawled my eyes out. but instead i just froze. and left. i didn't.. i didn't feel anything. at all." he sniffs, "i don't know what i'm saying." more tears fall freely.
"but you're crying now."
"i know! i just- i just don't know." feinberg pulls silverr in for a hug, careful not to knock over the mug, as silverr begins to sob.
"i know you didn't want to go back, but you only went 'cause i wanted to go, and i left right after and- and i'm sorry-"
"shhhh, it's fine, it's fine." feinberg holds him until he calms down.
"i think my hot chocolate's cold chocolate now." they laugh and it's alright.
.
it's a sunny day. snow still lingers.
"i don't think we'll ever know what happened between you and hax," feinberg says to infume's statue. he doesn't know why he only addresses infume's statue, that requires a deeper level of reflection than feinberg currently has the capacity for.
"you never really explained what an ice creature was. the only other one who could've explained was hax, or nerdi i guess, but well.." they never really found out what happened to nerdi.
"maybe you left details in your room. i haven't entered it still, but i think i'll try, today. just to see how dusty it got." he smiles.
"silverr's better. he's awake. he came here, i brought him- i still don't blame you for his condition by the way- and yeah." he doesn't mention the lingering ice magic still affecting him.
"it's kind of annoying, missing half the pieces to the puzzle. i think everyone wants to know what happened that night. we're probably gonna go mad trying to figure out all the details. no way hax was just throwing you at buildings, unless..." there's also that loud howl feinberg heard that night. was that infume? he opens his mouth to ask but stops and smiles. it probably was.
"i hope you're happy, wherever you are, the both of you. i know we will be eventually."
hello math friends. anyone down for a midnight proof? I can’t figure out how to calculate this limit...any help would be much appreciated as I have been attempting to get this for the past two days (RIP me)...thank you friends :)
This is perhaps a weird thing to post for my happy days, but last semester I changed the order in which I teach Cal 2 commerce. And I wrote up all my notes on this beautiful colorful pastel paper. And teaching today was soooo pleasant. Having all these wonderful colors makes everything just a little bit more exciting. #100happydays #100happydaysday8 #calculus #cal2 #calculus2 #math #integrals #antiderivatives #pastel #pastels #colorful #colorfulnotes (at Montreal, Quebec) https://www.instagram.com/p/CES9RkagLIs/?igshid=qrl1zz01g0cl
