#clique writing

[fake-you-owlt]

Start of Cliquetober 2025. A story told in parts (I am hoping to get some art done to go along with or sprinkle in with my short writing pieces)

[neon-merrick]

City Walls - Neonkeeper’s Cycle

It feels like she’s holding her breath, staring at Clancy’s back with the other Banditos. Something feels wrong. Heavy. Dark. Sharon tries to see the Torchbearer out of the corner of her eye, but Clancy, pulling the red robe over his shoulders, catches her attention. 

“Clancy?” Sharon can barely get the name out louder than a whisper, but it's enough to catch his attention. 

Clancy turns to face the Banditos, and the sight makes Sharon’s heart seem to stop as a pit twists in her stomach. Black paint had crept up Clancy’s face like a twisted bandana sitting over his nose, and in that moment, it felt like time itself had frozen in a moment of heartbreak, anger, betrayal, pain, and grief. The vision before her is one she never wanted to see, Clancy looking like-

A red robe being handed to her snaps Sharon back to reality, and she freezes, hesitates, her hand and heart itching to take the robe, to keep her promise to stay by her friend's side, no matter what. Sharon takes a second to glance at her sister to her left, a robe in hand, pulling it over her own shoulders without a second thought. Then, she looks at the offered robe in Clancy's hand. Clancy can't even look her in the eye, but she steels herself as she takes the robe from his hand. She knows he is no longer the friend she had grown to love, and that this decision was destructive to the progress she had made, but she can't bring herself to reject him.

The act of gently taking the robe from his hands causes Clancy to glance up to meet her eyes for a moment, but all he can see in her eyes is heartache. And it hurts. He quickly pushes it down as he hands the next robe to the Torchbearer, unable to meet his gaze, he knows is filled with betrayal and heartbreak, but he forces himself to, and somehow it hurts more.

Torchbearer watches as Sharon stares at the robe in her hand, and he starts to back out of the room, but as he does, a small whisper catches his ear,

“I'm sorry.”

He knows that voice, a small broken apology from Sharon. Something about it hurts just as bad as seeing Clancy throw away his title and progress once again as he forces himself to turn away and walk out of the tower.

Sharon watches as she pulls the robe over her shoulders. The weight feels suffocating on her, the fabric rough and harsh against her skin, her already stained black fingertips feel sickeningly fitting for the role she had just accepted.

With a studying breath, she pushes it all down as she pulls the hood up over her head to cover her face, but her eyes return to her friend. She can't call him Clancy anymore; that is no longer his role or title.

“What now, Nico?” she asks, the words come out quieter than intended,

Nico seems to freeze at the name, a wave of regret and grief flashes in his chest that he is quick to push down, but he doesn't respond.

“I’m honored to accept this role alongside you and the others,” Cassandra speaks up, her voice proud yet gentle, causing Sharon to glance at her sister. This was nothing to be proud of, but she bides her tongue.

“This is not an honor,” Nico finally speaks up as he glances back at the others.

As he looks back at the others, Sharon can see his face in full once again, and for the first time, it’s like looking into the eyes of a stranger, and something in her breaks.

“This is a role, a task to continue. And we will not fail.” Nico’s eyes fall on Sharon, and for a moment, he thinks he can see tears from under the hood. He averts his eyes, “Go to your districts, gather the citizens, we have work to do.”

The group of newly appointed Bishops leaves Nico in the tower, but Sharon remains as a silence falls over them, the only sound being the soft buzz of neon.

After a moment, Nico approaches Sharon, stopping just in front of her as he reaches up and slowly pulls her hood back to see her face fully.

Her eyes water with unshed tears, and her breathing comes out slow yet shaky, and for a moment, the friend she knew was back,

“Are you going to be ok?” Nico asks, his voice in the same gentle tone she had grown accustomed to over the years,

“I do not know,” She answers honestly as she wipes an escaped tear from her cheek with her thumb, “But I promised I would stay by your side no matter the outcome, and it is a promise I intend to keep,” she replies.

The answer sends a pang of pain through Nico’s chest. He knows she didn't want this, that this was her worst nightmare come true, but he can’t face that. So he pushes it down again and steps back,

“You didn't have to.” He mumbles as he moves slowly back to the window,

“Perhaps not, but I did.” Sharon responds as she turns to leave the tower, but before she exits, she stops in the doorway and turns to look at Nico, “I trust you,” she whispers before leaving him.

- - - - -

The years pass by more slowly than they ever had in the past. Over time, Sharon had taken on the title of Neonkeeper, continuing her job of taking care of the dead, her own name nothing but a whisper in the wind and an echo in her mind. Even then, she still checked on Nico every chance she got, did her best to ignore how easily everyone had fallen into their roles and titles. But one thing she couldn’t ignore was the way Nico’s intentions had become corrupt, no longer following his original path, leaning into the manufacture of death and glory of self-destruction. 

Finally, a breaking point came when a young boy took his own life and was celebrated for it. It was too much to ignore and hold back after having to handle and care for him in death, while knowing him when he was a small child. With a renewed rage and determination, she stormed into Nico’s quarters. What started as a gentle nudge to do the right thing quickly escalated into an argument between two friends.

“His death was celebrated; he will be remembered and mourned.” Nico sighs as he runs a hand over his pale yet stained face,

“There is no glory in that, surely you can see that, Nico!” Neonkeeper snaps, and it takes Nico by surprise. It was a rare sight to see Neonkeeper in such a state, but something deeper in him fights back,

“And who are you to tell me what is wrong or right? You prepare and bury the dead for glory's sake! You more than most should understand there is no better glory than to be remembered in death!” Nico fires back in defence as he rises to his feet.

Neonkeeper goes silent as she searches her friend’s face, only to see a corrupted stranger looking back at her,

“You trusted me to do what is right, don't betray me now.” Nico sneers as he takes a step closer, but that sentence alone is enough for Neonkeeper to see the true extent of the damage done,

“You have fallen so far from your purpose, Nico,” she says in a smooth tone that sends a ripple of fear and hurt through Nico, but it doesn't show. “You were once the face of rebellion against the very thing you have become, and that alone is on you,” she continues as she takes a step forward. She wasn't going to back down. Not now.

But this also sets a newfound rage in Nico as he storms up to her, mere inches from her face, 

“And what will you do about it?” he challenges coldly, “because we both know you don't have the heart to stop me, old friend.”

Neonkeeper falls silent, staring into the foreign eyes that she no longer knows. She couldn't deny it; she didn't have the heart to stop her friend, not even now.

“Leave this place,” Nico commands coldly.

“And go where? You know better than I that I can not return to Trench, not like this,” she replies in defeat,

“No. Then I’ll banish you to The Necropolis. Leave the inner city, I don’t want to see your face here again,” he states before turning to walk away from her,

But Neonkeeper doesn't move; she simply watches him for a moment before speaking, her need to keep her promise to him overruling everything else.

“Fine. But you should know that I will continue to keep my promise to you.”

Nico’s steps falter at her words, but he doesn't turn to face her; he can't bring himself to. After everything, she still refuses to give up on him.

“Leave. Now,” no matter how hard he tries to sound cold and angry, he knows she can hear the hurt under it all.

As her footsteps retreat out of the room, Nico sits back at the desk and takes a breath, pushing it all down again.

- - - - -

In the small work room deep within the Necropolis, Neonkeeper stands in front of an empty neon structure, her stained fingers feathering over the smooth, cold glass tubes as she’s lost in thought. But it's not long before a gentle knock is heard from the entrance, causing her to glance over her shoulder,

“Hello, Keons,” she greets quietly. Before all of this, the two had become friends, escaping into Trench together, both being close with Nico.

“I thought I’d find you here, friend,” he replies as he invites himself in and is answered by a heavy silence as Neonkeeper turns her gaze back to the glass under her fingers before pulling them away, and hiding them in her palm, “I heard about what happened between you and Nico.” He speaks again, a bit gentler this time,

“Everyone is so blind to the corruption that has formed within the walls once more,” Neonkeeper speaks finally, her voice quiet and defeated. It was something new for Keons, “As if we have all fallen asleep, unable to see what is so plainly before us.”

He walks closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I brought you these,” he offers as he holds out a pair of white gloves,

Neonkeeper looks down at the gloves before looking back up at Keons, his eyes still held the same kindness he had before, a welcome consistency she had become familiar with.

“You remembered?” she whispers as she accepts the gloves,  pulling them over her hands. The fabric felt light and soft compared to the weight of her robe,

“Of course,” he nods, offering her a small smile which she returns, though it doesn't quite meet her eyes, “besides, you're not the only one who’s noticed things taking a turn for the worse,” he adds, causing Neonkeeper’s gaze to snap back to him,

“You truly see it as well?” She asks cautiously,

Keons nods, “But we both know we can't just confront Nico about it.”

Neonkeeper lets out a small, almost humorous scoff, “I seem to be an example of the consequences of what happens when he is confronted,” she replies, and for a moment, it felt as if she were simply having friendly banter with a friend.

A silence falls between the two Bishops for a moment, but it's not as heavy as before; this time it's more comfortable,

“Do you miss it?” Neonkeeper finds herself asking, breaking the silence,

Keons frowns, “Miss what?”

“Trench,” Neonkeeper replies, the word now sounding like something forbidden, “The Banditos, the Torchbearer, Clancy, the vibrancy of it all?”

A look of melancholy crosses Keons’s face for a moment before he shakes his head, “It's best not to dwell on the past,” He sighs quietly, “but yes, I do,” he admits, the words nothing more than a whisper that would have been easy to miss.

Neonkeeper nods in understanding, the feeling of longing filling her, but she brushes it aside for now and takes a breath,

“Did you ever believe in the cycle theory?” She asks,

Keons can’t help but chuckle, the words reminding him of a much different time, “I never really understood it if I'm being honest,” He admits sheepishly,

“The idea that once a Clancy takes his place amongst a new batch of Bishops, that a new Clancy comes to be, a Clancy led by the Torchbearer as ours was and the ones before,” She explains, “We have become the new batch of Bishops, our Clancy is no more, but maybe there is another out there,”

Keons thinks for a long moment, trying to wrap his head around it, “What would happen to us if there is another Clancy out there?” he asks finally,

“Perhaps the same as the Bishops before us, he defeats us and either becomes us or does better than us,” She replies

Keons looks at Neonkeeper for a long moment, searching her face, “You’re never going to give up on him, are you?” He asks softly

Neonkeeper shakes her head, “No, I promised that I would stay by his side, that I would never abandon him.”

“Even now?” Keons finds himself asking in disbelief,

“Always.”

- - - - -

For the first time in years, Neonkeeper finds herself at the top of the stairs of an older tunnel once used to escape the city, but she can't will her legs to move away from the doorway, her heart crying out to go out into Trench once more. 

After what feels like hours of being frozen, she makes up her mind and runs back to her workroom, pulls out an old box from under her bedframe, and lifts the lid. The smell of dirt, mud, and smoke hits her like a violent burst of nostalgia as she opens the box and pulls out her old backpack, but her fingers stop as she reveals the jacket at the bottom of the box; the tape on it is no longer a colour she can see. 

Clearing her thoughts, she pushes the box back under the bed and removes the red robe from her shoulders and tossing it and the gloves onto the bed, the action leaving her feeling lighter than she had in many years, and picks up a black sheet, something lighter and softer, as she pulls it over her shoulders instead. Adjusting it around her shoulders in a way that resembles a hooded cloak, she slings her bag over her shoulder and pulls the hood over her head as she makes her way back to the entrance of the tunnels.

Standing at the top once again, the stairs seemed intimidating, but with a steeling breath, she makes her way down, closing the door carefully behind her.

The tunnel feels longer than she remembers, but her chest buzzes with the same anxiety and excitement it always did when she had done this in her youth. Her footsteps echo as she starts to pick up her pace, the determination slowly returning to her with every step, that small spark that never fully faded, glowing brighter as she sees the light of day at the end of the tunnel and breaks into a sprint.

As she bursts her way out the other side of the cave exit, the bright sun blinds her for a moment, causing her to throw an arm over her eyes and slow to a stop. After so long, it was only to be expected that it would take her a moment to adjust to the light.

After a moment, she slowly lowers her arm from her face, squinting into the vast wilds of Trench as she slowly pushes her hood back around her shoulders, taking in a deep breath of the crisp air. As she does, her eyes scan the beautiful, lush green wilds of Trench again for the first time in so long, and it isn't long before her vision blurs. Reaching up to her eyes, her fingertips are met with water. Tears. She was crying. 

With one more deep breath of fresh air, she starts to walk. She doesn't know where her feet mean to lead her, but for now, she enjoys the freedom and light of Trench, even if it looks different to her now. Eventually, she makes her way to a stream and stops to scoop some of the water into her mouth. The fresh, cold, crisp liquid brings a smile to her face as she pulls a bottle from her backpack and fills it from the stream.

Once she’s satisfied, she continues walking, each step becoming more and more confident until a figure in the distance makes her steps falter to a stop, and the figure stops as she does. There’s something familiar about the figure, and it takes her a moment to realize that the figure is holding a torch, and the realization creeps into her face as she slowly makes her way closer, her steps cautious.

As she gets closer, the figure's face comes into focus, causing a flood of memories to wash over her as her chest aches,

“Torchbearer,” Neonkeeper addresses, though the words come out as a longing whisper,

“I didn’t expect to see you out here,” He replies as he takes a step back, causing Neonkeeper to stop several feet away,

“I mean no harm, I…” she trails off, unable to explain what it was that drew her back out into Trench,

Torchbearer searches her face for a moment, yet all he sees is a friend, lost, alone, longing for the past. He lets out a sigh as he steps closer, each one cautious and slow

“You miss it,” he states as he stands before her, the words quiet, gentle, understanding,

Neonkeeper nods, “Yes.”

“Walk with me?” Torchbearer offers as he gives her a small, friendly smile, and Neonkeeper returns the smile with her own as she walks beside her old friend once more.

“How have things been out in Trench?” she asks after a moment, 

“Mostly the same. We’re still getting new escapees from time to time,” he reports, “and we’re still trying to find Clancy,” he adds.

Neonkeeper looks over to him, “You really believe him to still be out there?” she asks, a small spark of hope starting to flare in her chest,

Torchbearer nods, “He always is.”

The two fall into a comfortable silence once again as Neonkeeper takes in Trench the further they walk,

“How are things in the city?” Torchbearer breaks the silence first,

Neonkeeper sighs, “Things have become corrupt,” she reports, “Everyone has become so blind, they all became the very things we fought against.”

Torchbearer glances over to her in curiosity, “But not you?” he asks,

Neonkeeper shakes her head, “It is hard to see when you are the center point, though I like to think I still hold your values,” she replies

Torchbeare stops walking, causing Neonkeeper to do the same. 

“You still took the robe, though,” he states, but something about the look in Neonkeeper’s eyes makes him regret it.

“I did, yes,” she nods in acceptance, “I had a promise to keep, at my own expense,” 

Torchbearer shakes his head, “Somehow, you haven't changed a bit, Sharon,” he sighs, the words catch in a small, almost relieved chuckle.

Neonkeeper freezes at the name. It felt so foreign in her ears, forbidden. “I forgot that was my name,” she whispers, the words said under her breath, but Torchbearer seems to hear as his small smile fades,

“You forgot?” He asks with a frown, “What do they call you in there then?”

“Neonkeeper,” she answers,

Torchbearer nods slowly, but she can see the gears turning in his head as he looks off into the distance. Neonkeeper follows his gaze as she realizes where they are, just outside of the Bandito camp,

“Do you think they will ever trust me again?” she asks quietly,

“I have no idea,” Torchbearer answers,

Neonkeeper nods in solemn understanding, her eyes never leaving the smoke coming from the main fire of the camp

“But I won't stop you from trying to regain their trust,” he says, finally looking back at her,

“I understand it will not be an easy thing to regain the trust of the Banditos now that I have become this,” she nods, “But I am willing to put in the time and work for it,” she says with determination as she looks back to Torchbearer, who smiles at her, 

“It’s good to see you again,” he says with enough genuine honesty to make Neonkeeper feel like he had kicked her in the chest,

“It is good to see you again as well, my friend,” she smiles back.

The two finally part ways, Torchbearer heading up the hill to the Bandito camp, Neonkeeper heading back to Dema. But as they walk away, Torchbearer calls out to her,

“Hey, if you're going to keep sneaking out here, we can't keep calling you Neonkeeper out here,” he suggests, causing Neonkeeper to turn, an amused scoff escaping her lips,

“Perhaps if I can regain the trust of the Banditos, they can give me a new name, then.” she calls back,

Trochbearer nods, smiling at her as he waves goodbye, before turning to walk back to the camp. Neonkeeper returns the smile and wave with her own before she starts walking back in the direction of Dema with a newfound sense of purpose and hope.

- - - - -

The years pass slowly for Neonkeeper, alone in the Necropolis, with only the company of the Neon Gravestones and the Glorious Gone. Even in her older age, it was still work she took pride in: to give the dead respect and love while remembering their life stories. Even though she has her moments of freedom, sneaking off into the wilds of Trench to work on regaining the trust of the Bandiros, she is still trapped in this city as much as its citizens.

As she does her rounds through the outer rim of Dema, a figure catches her eye. A young boy stands at the edge of Reisdro’s district, his eyes looking up over the city wall. Something about him reminded Neonkeeper of herself when she was his age. She raises a gloved hand in greeting, and in return, the young boy raises a hesitant hand and waves back before turning to walk back into the district.

Throughout the day, something about the small interaction nags at Neonkeeper as she brushes off a nameplate under a gravestone. But slowly, a memory starts to resurface that makes her stand and turn to look where the boy had stood earlier in the day.

A time long before, when she was the boy’s age, she too had seen the Neonkeeper before her working in the Necropolis, who had waved, and she had waved back. But it couldn't be. Could it?

Over time, she would notice the boy, always walking along the edge of Reisdro’s district, his eyes either on the Neon Gravestones or over the horizon of the wall, and after a bit longer, she noticed another boy in Nico’s district, one who reminded her of Clancy. As she pieces things together in her head, she begins to smile as she realizes that the theory was true, the cycle had begun again.

Neonkeeper keeps tabs on the two boys, watching them grow, learn, question, and doubt. But it isn’t until she sees one sitting in front of a more recent gravestone, his gaze empty, an FPE stamped into the side of his neck, that she takes the opportunity to approach,

“You knew him?” She asks gently, keeping enough distance from him so as not to cause him to panic,

The boy quickly wipes his eyes with his hand as he looks up at her, but doesn't have the energy to stand or care about the Bishop looming over him. “He was a friend of mine,” he nods as he looks back at the grave.

Neonkeeper watches him for a moment before she kneels on the ground beside him, “Tell me about him,” she requests, causing the boy to look at her in curiosity before taking in a deep breath,

“He uh… Teagan. He was always the better of the two of us. Determined, hopeful, always one to crack a joke at the wrong time,” He recalls, a small, sad smile forming in the corners of his lips, though his voice sounds hollow and tired, “He believed in the impossible, that there was something better, something worth taking in.”

Neonkeeper nods as her eyes drift to the name and date on the plate below the neon. A life lost so young, it stirred something in her, like a memory,

“And did you find it with him? That something better, that something worth taking in?” she asks softly as she looks back at the boy,

He hesitates for a moment, his hand traveling to something under his sleeve, something that she could no longer see the colour of, but deep down she knew the colour of the bandana under his sleeve, but she says nothing about it.

“Yeah. But that died with him,” the boy whispers, defeated.

Neonkeeper shifts to fully sit on the ground with the boy, “Maybe it will live on in you in the new and unknown wilds,” she replies, causing the boy to look at her in surprise, his hand quickly pulling the sleeve to cover the bandana fully,

“This city has ways of breaking spirit and hope, something that it seems your friend wanted to share with you,” Neonkeeper suggests, as she nods at the bandana under the sleeve

The boy grips his wrist where the bandana is hidden, his body going rigid with words he doesn't dare to speak in fear of them becoming real, the doubt clear on his face, 

Neonkeeper stands, “I will leave you, my dear, but do not hesitate to call for me if ever you need,” She offers as she takes a few steps away before looking over her shoulder, “And be careful with that bandana, take care of it, Arlyn,” she adds before walking away.

The boy stares after her for a moment, shocked and scared that she had seen it, yet didn't seem angered about it, as the other Bishops would have been.

- - - - -

The days pass, as do the nights. As Neonkeeper makes final rounds, she spots a light out of place at the back of Nico’s district, something warmer than the neon, something familiar that flickers in a shade she can no longer see. As she cautiously moves through the Necropolis to get a better look, a small group of people wearing a colour she can no longer recognize or see can be seen filing out of a back door that was never used and was usually locked. As the final person comes into view, she realises who they all are, and the final one stops.

In a second that feels like eternity, Neonkeeper and the Torchbearer lock eyes, and then the realization comes like a strike of lightning: If the Torchbearer was here, it meant that he was here for Clancy, that her cycle theory was right. She doesn't move, she doesn't speak, she only nods at the Torchbearer, who nods back before running after the other Banditos.

It isn't long before the group can be seen retreating to where they came from, with both boys she had kept tabs on. This time, Neonkeeper moves quickly, hoping to catch the Torchbearer, and she does just before he enters the tunnel that the door leads to.

“Torchbearer,” She calls out from the top step of the entryway, and to her surprise, he turns around,

“Mother Vulture,” he greets warmly despite the name given to her by the Banditos still sounding new and foreign to Neonkeeper’s ears. Torchbearer opens his mouth to speak again, but is swiftly cut off by Neonkeeper,

“I will not speak a word of what I have seen, I promise,” she reassures softly before the Torchbearer can speak again, “Just take care of them.”

Torchbearer nods, “Thank you, friend, I will.”

Neonkeeper watches as the Torchbearer catches up with the others as she closes the door behind them.

- - - - - - -

The years go by, helping to guide young Echo through his cycle alongside Clancy, becoming more aligned with the Banditos once more and gaining her own rank amongst them as Mother Vulture. She no longer wears the red robe of the Bishops, instead a black robe Echo had helped to make for her, embroidered with the symbols of the Banditos in a colour she knows is yellow, yet she can not see. She had overheard too much of the Bishops talking about how they plan to handle the impending attack on the city and decided to fully side with the Banditos. 

The Banditos walk closer to the city, led by Clancy and Torchbearer, Mother Vulture, and Echo, not far behind. She looks to the younger boy beside her, his face filled with anxiety and determination, the yellow bandana still tied around his wrist. As they reach the city wall, the group slows to a stop.

Before them stands a small army of the dead, Glorious Gones siezed by the Bishops up in their tower, all wielding rods of neon from their own graves. It makes Mother Vulture sick to see, but her attention is drawn to Echo,

“Teagan,” he lets out a small, devastated breath. Following his gaze, she understands. Amongst the many faces of the dead, she can recognize Teagan, the young boy Echo had lost a few years back.

As she places a grounding hand on his shoulder, she glances at Clancy, then to Torchbearer, who gives the signal, and the two sides collide, Echo rushing forward with the others, causing her hand to fall away from him. But she stands back for a moment as she watches Clancy run off. She knows where he is going, and she can only hope this time goes better than the last.

The sound of fighting snaps her back to reality as she joins the others in the fight, pushing back the Glorious Gone, unable to hurt them even in death. It isn't until she sees the first Bandito fall that something in her snaps, like a restrictive wall in her brain disappears as she starts fighting back, moving around the battle to aid all she can.

As she swings one of the Glorious Gone away from a Bandito, she quickly offers them a hand to help them to their feet, and as the Bandito takes it, she notices something that makes her look around the field of fighting Banditos. The tape, the torch flame, it was all yellow. She could see the colour again, but she couldn't find it in herself to be happy or relieved about it under these circumstances.

Her thoughts are interrupted as she watches the vessels fall all at once like empty ragdolls where they stood, and her gaze averts up to the tower.

A small commotion brings her attention to Torchbearer, who quickly gathers a small group of Banditos before running off, Echo following close behind. Something was wrong. She watches the group of ten race to the entrance into Dema, and a memory flashes through her mind.

Once the group is out of sight, she lets out a breath and looks around as she takes in the aftermath of the fight, her eyes landing on a Bandito crying over a Glorious Gone with her head in her hands, her friend beside her comforting her gently. Another Bandito sits silently over the body of another Bandito, clutching her limp hand in his. 

Mother Vulture slowly makes her way around to each mourning Bandito, providing what comfort she can as others begin to create makeshift stretchers to move the bodies of the Banditos and situate the bodies of the Glorious Gone in a row, letting them finally rest. As the Banditos move together, Mother Vulture steps in to help, directing small groups to make the task more efficient.

Time drags on, and a group have already started to move most of the fallen Banditos, taking them back to camp to be given a burial. Eventually, she comes across the body of Teagan and takes a moment to gently brush a strand of curly hair away from his face,

“Should we bring all of them with us?” comes a voice behind her, one she recognises as one of Echo’s friends, 

“If you think we can, then yes,” Mother Vulture nods as she looks back at Athem and Ziek beside her, but Athem’s eyes are on the body of the boy in front of her,

“That’s Teagan, isnt it?” Athem asks, though she already knows the answer,

“I believe it is, yes,” Mother Vulture confirms, “Did you know him as well?”

Athem shakes her head, “No, but Echo talks about him sometimes,”

“He doesn't shut up about the guy,” comes the younger voice of Zed, earning him a soft knock upside the head from Zeik,

“If we can't bring them all back to camp with us, we should at least bring him with us, for Echo.” Athem says softly, “He was one of us; he was the one who got Echo to escape out here the first time.”

“The only person who could get through Echo’s stubborn streak.” Zed nods solemnly, “Not the way I wanted to meet the guy, but here we are.”

Athem goes to scold him, but instead she quickly rises to her feet,

“ECHO!” she calls out as she sprints off, quickly followed by Zeik,

Zed lets out a dramatic sigh, “Why do they always have to run everywhere?” he grumbles as he runs after the other two.

Mother Vulture watches as the friends reconnect, and a mixture of relief and dread fills her at the sight of only Echo, Torchbearer, and one other Bandito. Torchbearer exchanges a few words with the other Bandito as he makes his way over to Mother Vulture, his expression changing to one of exhaustion and devastation,

Mother Vulture rises to her feet as she meets him halfway, but doesn't say anything, not yet. She knows that look; she saw it before, she knows what it means. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders deflating under her touch,

“He got further than ever before,” she reassures gently, “We will find him again, we always do.”

Torchbearer nods as he looks at her, “Yeah, we will.” he sighs as he collects himself again, “But this time is different,” he adds, glancing back at Echo.

Mother Vulture feels like a weight that has been on her chest for as long as she can remember is lifted as she realizes what he means,

“Echo rejected the robe,” she breathes in realization, “He broke the cycle.”

Torchbearer nods as he looks back at her, “He’s pretty messed up about it, but because of it, we now have one less Bishop next cycle.”

“And I can see our colours again,” She adds, causing Torchbearer to glance back at Echo again,

“He’ll be ok, right?” he asks after a moment as he watches Echo and his friends all walking off,

“As hard as it is on him right now, it will take time to heal,” Mother Vulture replies as her gaze falls on the body of the boy beside them, “But he has gone through so much this cycle.”

Torchbearer follows her gaze, “Who was he?” he asks as he crouches down beside the body,

“Teagan, a friend of Echo, one of us,” she answers, 

“I remember him, I didn't realise he died though. I thought he just lost contact.” He says quietly,

“Echo told me about him over the years. He was the one who convinced Echo to escape for the first time, the two were practically joined at the hip within the city and out in Trench.” she recalls, “he was brave,”

“Yeah, he was.” Torchbearer nods quietly.

Mother Vulture gestures over a few remaining Banditos to gather the boy’s body as the group all starts to head back to camp with the Glorious Gone and fallen friends carried on makeshift stretchers, some held in the arms of friends and family. With one last look to the city and its towers, she knows there is no place for her back there, so she follows the Banditos back to their camp.

Mother Vulture walks alongside Torchbearer through Trench, the sound of rock and foliage under their feet and the occasional whisper or sob being the only sound. It’s then that she realises that Torchbearer’s torch is unlit, held limply at his side.

“How are you holding up?” she asks gently,

Torchbearer takes a moment before he responds, “It never gets easier seeing him become that,” he admits,

“I would not expect such a thing to be easy.” Mother Vulture reassures, “But we both know Clancy is still out there, and we won't give up on him.”

“Yeah.” Torchbearer agrees quietly,

“Would you mind if I find Echo and the others? I think he deserves to know the truth.” Mother Vulture asks after a moment,

“Yeah, he deserves to know,” Torchbearer agrees with a nod.

Mother Vulture returns the nod and peels off from the group to the one place she knows Echo would go, as it was the same place she had gone in her past.

- - - - -

The days pass, Mother Vulture remains among the Banditos, helping with the burials and other tasks around camp, no longer the Bishop Neonkeeper, trapped in a cycle. Though the camp no longer has any familiar faces from her past, besides Torchbearer, she is home once again amongst her people, her vision once again restored along with her hope, and that fire she once had in her soul was once again relit. But this time, this cycle, she was no longer bound to the same path, now walking one unknown alongside others. It scared her, but she knows she is in good company.

There’s a tap on her shoulder that pulls her away from her thoughts, causing her to spin around to come face to face with the Torchbearer, who smiles at her,

“I think we found him again.”

A new cycle.

A new path forward.

A new Clancy.

A new rebel red hope.

[dontredecorate]

trench.

trench began on an overcast july day - i was on my way to work at a summer camp the day the notifications came in. i was so so excited to listen to the new songs. i unfortunately had absolutely zero cell service out in the middle of the woods (shocker). but my friend had a connection to the internet - and twenty one pilots - so we listened to jumpsuit and nico & the niners as many times as possible on our 15 minute break.

later, bandito tour tickets dropped, and i remember asking my parents to buy them for me as i'd be at work at that same summer camp. i was entranced by the singles and couldn't wait to see them on tour again.

when i learned that i got tickets - and lower bowl seats at that - i was ecstatic. october couldn't come fast enough.

fast-forward to the first week of october, 2018, and the leaks happened. i didn't listen to them but i was a little afraid of tyler that day. i thought he was mad at me.

but then the album dropped and i was addicted. my first favorite song off the album was the hype (currently, though, it's natn), and i had a countdown in my school agenda book to the show.

that show was not my favorite for reasons i won't get into here - but i still find myself reaching for that album at least once a week these days, maybe even every day ask we move into autumn. jumpsuit still hits even five years later. the whole tracklist, really.

and even though sometime in 2019 i fell out of my tøp obsession, i still went back to this album from time to time. in trench i'm not alone, right?

and now here we are in 2023, awaiting the next new album cycle. hopefully it'll be just as joyous and magical as trench was, as scaled and icy was, as they all have been. here's to trench.

happy birthday, loser. enjoy kindergarten.

[thekadster]

cliquetober day 11: antlers (a twenty one pilots drabble)

Fandom: Twenty One Pilots

Word Count: 315

Trigger Warnings: None!

Author’s Notes: Something a bit more lighthearted for today KJDHSFG

❝ After the events of The Outside MV, Tyler finds out he has antlers on his head.

“They’re going to notice, aren’t they?” ❞

also read it on ao3!

Josh froze, his eyes widening. “Uh…Tyler?”

The other man turned to look at him as he waited on the beach. “Yeah?”

Josh didn’t know what to say. He glanced at the top of Tyler’s head, then back to his face. “You kind of…uh…”

“Kind of what?” he asked.

Josh motioned to where his beanie sat. Tyler mimicked his action, but immediately paused. Something was growing from the top of his head.

He felt around more and found a wood-like texture. His fingers met pointed ends, branching out from a single stem.

His eyes widened. They were antlers.

He looked at Josh. “Dude, what the– How did–”

“I don’t know!”

At that moment, Tyler remembered the ritual. If there was one thing he knew about the Neds, it was that he didn’t know much at all. He never knew they could grow horns, let alone be used to intercept the Bishops.

“Where’s Ned?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Josh. “He’s not in the cave.”

Tyler’s brow furrowed as he sighed. The two of them had only heard rumors of the ritual, with the Glorious Gones and their glowing eyes. “Do you think this ever happens to the Bishops?”

“They don’t have antlers, as far as I’m aware,” Josh said.

“They could always cut them off. Seems in character for them to have horns.”

Josh laughed. They kept their torches raised, mirrored by distant lights from the opposite shore. The other Banditos would be here in a few minutes to bring them back to the main continent.

Tyler felt the antlers on his head again. He paused for a moment. “They’re going to notice, aren’t they?”

The other man tilted his head. “...Yeah, they probably will,” he replied. He tugged his friend’s beanie to somewhat cover the pointed tips. “That might work. They won’t see a thing.”

Josh couldn’t help but smile. Tyler sighed.

[fake-you-owlt]

Cliquetober Day 26-31

[fake-you-owlt]

Cliquetober day 21-25

[fake-you-owlt]

Cliquetober Day 13, 14 and 15: Rawfear, Dragpath and Oneway

[fake-you-owlt]

Days 3-8 of Cliquetober 2025 (it took me one post to immediately slack off...sorry)