#concept scenes

[myvoidbox]

Sing from the Heart

>>Strange Flower

Faerie pointed at the flower that Shadow had created for his demonstration earlier.

Faerie: I want to use that flower.

Shadow King: Then let's begin!

The two of them approached the flower, which continued to glance around with no clear rhyme or reason.

Faerie: So how do I actually use my magic? I don't have a staff like you...do I just use my hands?

He had a million other questions on his mind about this, but this one seemed like the one worth prioritizing right now.

Shadow King: I mean you can try to use your hands...but I have a feeling your magic needs a little something else.

Faerie: What do you mean?

His question was met with a small smile from Shadow as he answered with a tone that somehow was both blunt and cheerful at the same time.

Shadow King: I want you to sing!

Faerie:...What?

Okay, Shadow must be messing with him right now, surely he didn't really think singing would somehow help him use magic.

Shadow King: I want you to reach inside yourself for your magic, I assume you felt it somewhere in your chest, right?

After stopping to think for a few moments, recalling the moment he first felt what he assumes to be his magic.

Faerie: I believe so?

Shadow King: Then imagine pushing that energy up from your chest, gathering it up in your throat, and then releasing it out as you sing. Your intentions should help guide where exactly that magic goes and what it'll do!

Faerie stared at Shadow for a few moments. He tried to imagine what it would be like to try and gather that magic up inside a part of his own body like it had gathered up into Shadow's staff earlier.

He didn't like the image it conjured in his head. It felt too dangerous. What if he gathered up too much, could it blow him up? Would it kill him?

Then he recalled that he was a puppet. What did that mean for his ability to die? Could he die? If something went wrong, could his body be fixed even if he suffered injuries that would kill a ordinary cookie? Or...or would he just have to continue living with whatever injuries he had from then on? Would it hurt?

Would it be worse if it didn't?

As he tried to think of what to say, mainly wanting to try and leave this attempted lesson or demand that Shadow stop messing with him, his mouth opened and closed a few times.

-♪

Then a sudden note filled the air.

Faerie's attention returned to Shadow, who proceeded to sing out the same exact note, which caused a few glowing lines of blue and eyes to briefly appear in the air before they dissipated.

-♪

Shadow King: See? Now you try it!

Faerie blinked at the 'king' as he processed what just happened.

Well, at least it seemed Shadow wasn't trying to trick him into killing himself, and it appeared this truly was a means of using magic so...

He slowly approached the flower, staring at it...which it returned.

The fact that it seemed everything was staring at him made him uncomfortable. All the many eyes on Shadow, the ones on the gate, the large ones blinking down from the sky, and now this flower.

Thinking of what he actually wanted to do with his attempt at magic, he tried doing as Shadow had instructed.

He reached for that energy inside him, trying not to go any deeper than the warmer silver layer. He imagined pulling it up from where it sat in his chest.

It was odd when he actually did feel it travel, initially the cold feeling of that first layer hit him first before it was followed by the warmer one.

That first bit of silver gave some resistance, like he was trying to will a metal plate to move. The second layer came easier, flowing up comfortably.

He imagined it gathering up in his throat and tried to focus on what instinctive knowledge he had about singing as he let out one weak note.

-♪

Nothing happened.

Shadow King: I think you might need a little more 'oomph' than that.

Faerie felt annoyed at Shadow's teasing tone, but nevertheless he tried again.

It was easier to reach for his magic and pull it up than the first time.

-♪

He saw a single silvery note and a few thin trails of thin magic appear in the air before they disappeared.

But nothing happened still. So he looked at Shadow, frustration starting to build.

The 'king' seemed unbothered.

Shadow King: Oh, you almost had it! Just a little more!

Faerie seethed for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning back to the flower.

Its eyes were still staring back at him, but they were now curved in what almost seemed like amusement, as though it was silently laughing at his struggle.

He glared at it as he reached for his magic again, and he pulled it up more forcefully than his previous attempts.

It hardly resisted this time, though something else seemed to have clung to the warmer silver in order to also climb inside him and gathered up in his throat.

It was a bit cold, but Faerie's frustration made it easier to ignore as he started singing a wordless song at the flower, notes appearing in the air, this time accompanied by stronger wisps of silvery magic and small, innocent looking flowers.

-♪

-♪ ♫

-♪♫♪ ♬♪

Finally, the magic he'd summoned reached down towards the flower, surrounding and then encasing it.

This made the flower briefly look silvery as the magic seeped into it.

Once it was over, the flower had a green stem and leaves, and bright yellow petals surrounding a brown center.

More importantly, it had no eyes with which to look at him.

Shadow floated down and examined the flower, taking one of its petals in his hand.

Shadow King: Hmmmm...not exactly what I would've done, but congratulations on using magic for the first time!

Faerie: I did it.

He spoke with amazement as he stared at the flower, his voice quiet as a small smile grew on his face.

That was oddly exhilarating, to be able to change something so much with just a few notes. It wasn't even that hard now that he knew what he was doing.

Shadow moved away from the flower and back to Faerie's side, his grin sharp but the puppet was too caught up in what he'd managed to do to really care.

Shadow King: How do you feel?

Faerie: A little...odd. Like there's this...I suppose a 'tickle' is the best way to describe what I'm feeling inside.

It was true, though the ticklish feeling was fading now along with the sense of excitement.

He tried to train his face into a more neutral expression again as he regarded Shadow again, who seemed all too pleased.

Shadow King: Well, that little 'tickle' is going to make things so much easier for you! I can't wait to see what you do with your magic!

Faerie: Shadow?

Shadow King: Yeeeees?

Faerie: You said there are many different types of magic, didn't you? What kind of magic did I just use?

That made the 'king' pause and stare at him for a few moments before tilting his head at him.

Shadow King: It's a delightful little thing called 'Heartsong magic'!

That sense that Shadow was hiding something returned, but he doubted he'd be able to safely push the creature into admitting the to it.

Now that he'd indulged Shadow's desire to show him this magic, hopefully he could finally be on his way and start trying to gather up all the fairies and leave.

Faerie: Well, thank you for showing me, but now I really need to be on my way.

Shadow King: I suppose you do, good luck!

The 'king' waved as Faerie hastily walked away.

[NEW MECHANIC UNLOCKED: HEARTSONG MAGIC]

Joy=▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌

[thompsborn]

roller derby fic!!!!!!!!

Harley’s on his way out of the warehouse when someone stumbles into him.

His mind is kind of caught on the game he just watched, caught on the rules he doesn’t understand but wants to figure out, caught on the wicked smiles showing off bloody teeth as they skated for their lives on bruised knees.

So, it’s kind of his fault, the fact that the two of them bump into each other—but, in his defense, the other guy is obviously tipsy, so. Yeah.

“Sorry,” Harley says, backing up with his hands held out in some kind of silent surrender. The crowd had been wild and lively, and he can see someone who regularly comes to watch derby being willing to start a fight over nothing.

The guy just laughs, though, bubbly and bursting out of him loud and unannounced. He’s got round, brown eyes that sparkle as he chuckles, matching brown hair that he pushes back from his forehead messily. “Nah,” the guy says. “My bad.”

Harley isn’t sure how to respond to that, do he doesn’t—but the guy doesn’t seem to mind, quickly quirking his brows as he scans Harley over, something calculated in his gaze.

“First time here?”

Though he isn’t sure where that came from, he can’t deny the truth. “Yeah. I’m not from here, but my friend insisted I come see a match.”

The guy pouts. Actually, literally pouts. “Aw. Does that mean we won’t be seeing you again?”

It takes a second, but Harley splutters out a laugh of his own. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I could be,” the guy says, nodding. “I’m also just curious. There’s try outs coming up, right? And I dunno how well you can skate, but you’ve got the legs for it. Maybe you should give it a shot.”

“Oh, you are definitely flirting with me.”

The guy laughs again, just as bright and twinkly as before. “Sure am. Is that a bad thing?”

Harley considers this, then says, “I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.”

“Come to the try outs,” the guy suggests, taking a step back with something mischievous in his eyes, pulling at the ends of his lips. “Maybe you’ll find out.”

Unable to help it, Harley watches him walk away.

[arionaleilani]

Alfie doesn’t understand.

There’s a lot that he does understand—the complexity of the human endocrine system, for example, is something he’s very familiar with—but this is something he’s never been able to pin down.

Or, rather, someone.

Theo used to be his best friend, is the thing. They met in Kindergarten and became attached at the hip despite all of their differences, Theo loudspoken compared to Alfie’s timid nature, Theo straight laced in the face of Alfie’s creativity. For years, Alfie pictured a future where they were best friends forever, growing up and getting jobs and possibly even being roommates.

And then Alfie’s mom died at the same time that Theo switched schools, and everything changed. The person that Alfie once thought he knew better than he knew himself became a memory, a stranger across town going to the rival high school and never answering Alfie’s calls. For five years, they never spoke, saw each other in passing in town but never stopping to say hi.

Alfie was nineteen when he got that first call, but it wasn’t from Theo himself—it was from the local police department, claiming that Alfie was written down as Theo’s main contact, letting him know that Theo had been arrested for petty theft and needed someone to bail him out for the night.

Stupidly, Alfie had actually went.

How could he not? It was Theo—his Theo, the one who Alfie always saw as his other half, the one he always daydreamed their futures for. Even if everything between them had inexplicably fallen apart, he was still Theo, and Alfie will always be there when Theo needs him.

But, when Alfie bailed him out, digging into every penny of his savings account to do so, Theo had simply shouldered past him and walked away.

So, that’s where he is now: he simply doesn’t understand. Because Theo has a caring mom who would have bailed him out in a second, and yet Alfie had been the one to get called. Because Theo had to have remembered Alfie’s number by heart in order to hand it over. Because there has to be a reason for it, and yet Alfie can’t think of a single one.

Because his phone just rang again, and Theo is in need of another bail, and Alfie is going to go, of course, even if he doesn’t get it at all.

“You’re welcome,” he says, when an officer escorts Theo out from the cell area and to the main entrance of the station. Theo just huffs, shoulders past him again, but this time Alfie follows—has to jog a bit to catch up, but ends up in stride as he says, “You know, since this is the second time I’ve bailed you out, I figured I should get a thank you.”

Theo glares daggers at the ground and speeds up. Alfie speeds up, too, to keep pace. “Go away.”

It almost makes Alfie laugh, but not in a funny way, more of a half hysteric and severely confused kind of way. “I just got you out of jail and you’re telling me to go away? Really, T?”

The way Theo jerks back makes Alfie’s steps falter. “Do not call me that.”

“I…” Alfie trails off, slows down a bit and watches Theo stalk ahead. He considers letting him go, but irritation flares in his chest, spurs him forward, until he’s caught up once again. “Fine,” he says. “I won’t call you that. If you tell me what happened.”

Theo’s glare sharpens as it flickers towards Alfie, only to immediately shift away. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Uh, I think you do,” Alfie retorts. “Unless you plan on paying me back for the bail money. I’m pretty sure you owe me something here.”

Another huff, this one louder, more exasperated, as Theo comes to a sudden stop and faces Alfie with a scathing look. “I couldn’t afford dinner,” he states. “I tried to get something anyway, and I got caught. You happy now, Alfie?”

On one hand, Alfie feels like he’s been physically struck in the chest. But, on the other hand, it’s the first time that Alfie’s heard Theo say his name since they were fourteen. It makes him want to smile just as much as it makes him want to cry.

“No,” he responds softly. “I’m—”

“I swear to god, if you say you’re sorry—”

Theo cuts himself off with a sharp, somewhat shaky inhale as he whips his head around and turns away. Alfie watches him warily, feeling out of place and terribly, totally lost.

Eventually, Theo lets out a long breath and turns towards Alfie again, though his eyes stay downcast. “Thanks,” he says gruffly.

And then he’s gone.

Alfie stands in the dust of his departure, wondering what just happened, feeling more out of his element than he ever has before.

[myvoidbox]

Welcome to the World part 2: Break Free

>>Tug at the strings again

The puppet tried to pull against the strings again, only managing to cause a movement that could be mistaken for a twitch.

He let out a sigh, some frustration showing through his confusion and worry over this strange situation.

It was clear that someone didn't want him to get free, but why?

Why was he even here at all?

Then a small sound echoed through the dark space.

Had that been a step from someone trying to move through the room? It sounded rather hard and heavy, more like wood colliding with wood, but then again, he didn't really have any reference for how steps were supposed to sound so...

>Look around the room

>>Tug at the strings again

>Call out for help

He tried a third time, harder this time. He managed to move maybe a little less than a inch more than his previous efforts, but still the strings held firm with little room to move.

More sounds. Multiple steps this time, but they now clearly sounded wrong in a way that instinct caught onto more than his current lack of knowledge. These steps sounded like something that wasn't used to walking, slow and deliberate because it lacked confidence in the ability to run.

Were they getting closer? Why was the sense of being watched getting stronger?

Did those steps sound a bit like they were coming from multiple directions? Like multiple people were walking towards him?

Was something happening on this stage?

>Look around the room

>>Tug at the strings again

>Call out for help

He pulled against the strings yet again, this time not letting up, he just kept pulling. Not just one arm this time, all his limbs were now straining against these restraints.

The sound of some of the strings actually snapping gave him some relief and hope.

He briefly slacked in the strings again, getting ready to start pulling again. Just one more time and he just might be able to get free...

Then more sounds echoed around him.

There was no mistaking it now. Something was approaching him, multiple things actually. Closing in like predators around helpless prey.

The steps were still slow and a little clumsy, but they were not stopping this time, and with each moment they were becoming steadier and quicker in their approach.

The temptation to look away from the strings and look around the room was stronger than ever, fueled by fear and a desire to figure out just what he was up against.

Another, more vulnerable and desperate part, once again wanted to call out in hope that someone who can help him was nearby. That part wanted to know he was not left to face whatever this was on his own.

But his original logic was still there, which told him that he needed to focus on getting free so he could act instead of being stuck. Knowing what approached wouldn't matter if he didn't have the ability to run or fight it. He also knew that calling out for help would be in vain.

He needs to make a choice, now.

>Look around the room

>>Again!

>Call out for help

He tugged once again, giving it all he had. A sound similar to a growl escaped his throat as he pulled.

Curiously, he had a sense the act didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. He thought the strings should be digging into his body, possibly leaving him with wounds dripping jam or cutting parts of his dough off completely depending on just what exactly these strings were made of.

(How does he know about any of that though? Why did he assume he was a being of dough and jam? How did he know how dough should respond in a situation like this?)

Instead, he heard more strings snapping, more steps closing in around him.

Puppet: RAAAAHHH!

With a final cry of exertion, the last of the strings finally snapped and the puppet fell onto one knee, one hand helping to keep his body supported so he didn't stumble onto his stomach, which the other arm rested on the knee that hadn't met with the ground.

He couldn't remain like that for long though. He finally looked up to see what was happening around him.

While he hadn't paid much attention before to the rest of the stage, he was confident the other puppets weren't originally all facing him in poses that seemed rather threatening and menacing, nor were they positioned to nearly close around him completely before.

Seeing some of the puppets actually take steps towards him confirmed his strong suspicions.

He jumped onto his feet, steeling his expression against the horde of wooden beings.

A part of him felt the instinct to try and fight. But once his mind caught up with him, he realized he had no idea how to actually do that. He also had no weapons, or even anything that could serve as a shield.

Despite how many were closing in on him, he thought he did see one small opening to his left where he could possibly run and jump off the stage to escape.

What should he do?

>Fight

>>Run

The puppet took his chance, rushing to his left and managing to dodge several pairs of wooden hands reaching out to grab him. He only hesitated for a brief moment when he reached the edge of the stage, looking to see just what was below the stage.

Once he confirmed that it appeared to be a ordinary floor, he jumped.

As he did so, he noticed that he felt a odd weight attached to his back. Not heavy, barely present to the point that part of him wondered if it was his imagination, but as he continued to run he realized that the weight was very much real, though he had no time to figure out just what it is.

He chose to glance back at the stage as he kept running, and saw that the other puppets were still following him. They didn't jump, instead they just walked right off the edge and fell onto the ground before picking themselves up, arms reaching out in preparation to try and grab him if they got too close.

So he turned around and kept running.

[arionaleilani]

“Stop.”

Amara doesn’t look away, keeping her concentration trained on the door in front of her. The lock is stubborn—it’s taking longer than she’d like to get it open. “No.”

Footsteps approach her, and then Winnie is sitting on the floor to her right, leaning against the wall with a sigh. “I’m too tired to fight.”

“Good,” Amara says, twisting her fingers and mentally cursing when the door doesn’t click open. Why can’t she get this right?

Are her hands shaking? No, no—she’s just letting herself get distracted, is all.

“Will you stop if I say please?”

Snorting, Amara tears her eyes away from the doorknob and gives Winnie an incredulous look, begrudgingly amused. “Are you serious?”

Winnie shrugs. “Worth a shot, right?”

“Stupid,” Amara murmurs, focusing back on the lock. “You’re wasting your time.”

“Am I?”

A silence settles over them, one that Amara isn’t all that fond of. She doesn’t try to break it, though, just continues to try and get her hands to cooperate with her. It doesn’t make sense, really—she’s picked more locks than she could ever possibly count. Something must be wrong with her if she’s fucking it up this badly now.

Winnie sighs again, this time more haggard and heavy. “You know,” she says, “Mr. Adams has a family. He has a life. Why not let him live it?”

“Because he’s a scumbag,” Amara tells her instantly, not bothering to hesitate. It’s the truth, after all. “He’s hurt people and he’ll keep hurting people unless someone stops him.”

“Okay,” Winnie says, sounding surprisingly at ease. “There are other ways to stop him.”

Amara grunts—thinks about punching the door, but resists the urge. Instead, she removes her lock picking tools entirely and takes a deep breath before starting from step one. “I like my way better,” she grumbles, brows furrowing.

“I think your way is selfish.”

At that, she stops—freezes completely, then turns her head with a sharp glare in place. “Wanna run that by me again?”

Annoyingly enough, Winnie doesn’t so much as flinch or falter. She just holds Amara’s gaze and says, with utmost confidence and certainty, “Your way is selfish. It isn’t for anyone else.”

The tools fall to the floor. Her hands curl into fists. “He deserves it.”

“Mr. Adams has a family,” Winnie says again.

Amara grits her teeth. “Mr. Adams’ doesn’t deserve to have a family.”

“Maybe not,” Winnie admits. “But he still does.”

“Why does it matter?” Amara has to remind herself not to raise her voice—the building may be empty, but there’s no reason to risk it. “His family isn’t a part of this. They’ll be fine.”

Winnie pins Amara with a thoughtful expression. “He’s a father,” she says. “Do you really think you have the right to take away a parent from their child? Do you think that kid deserves to lose a dad, all because you wanted revenge?”

“I think,” Amara grits out, “that you need to leave before I lose my patience.”

a concept scene for my “the hero and the villain fall in love” story

[myvoidbox]

What's inside you?

>Ask about leaving the kingdom

Faerie: I've noticed the kingdom seems to have its entrance locked by gates.

Shadow King: Mm-hmm, what about it?

Faerie: I think I would like to leave, can you please open them. That way I won't bother you with my questions anymore.

Shadow King: Leaving already? Is that really such a good idea?

Faerie: I think I'd have a better chance of figuring myself out if I go.

Shadow King: Weeeeell...I can't really just 'open the gates', it doesn't work like that.

Faerie: Does it need a key? Do you not have it?

Shadow King: Oh, but it's not just any kind of 'key' you can find. In this kingdom where chaos thrives, you need to gather all the faeries and make them harmonize!

Faerie:..What? Was that a clue or a riddle?

Shadow King: Both!

Faerie: So...I need to make all the faeries here sing in harmony?

Shadow King: Ah, but it must also be sung to the gates.

Faerie, taking a deep breath: Okay, I will gather up everyone and get them to sing at the gates.

Shadow King: Easier said than done. But hey, you might make some new friends! Won't that be fun?

>>Try to leave the conversation

Faerie:...Thank you, Shadow, but I must go now.

His voice came out stilted and a little forced as he turned around, his steps hasty to get him away from the strange 'king'.

No such luck though.

Shadow was quick to block his exit, holding his hands up to signal him to stop.

Shadow King: Wait! I might know a nifty little trick that can help you!

Faerie narrowed his eyes at him, not really wanting to hear about this so-called 'nifty trick'. It just seemed to make Shadow grin sharply back.

Shadow King: Do you know anything about magic?

Faerie:...Magic?

He had a vague, instinctive idea of what that was. It brought to mind blurry half-known images of colors, light, and reality changing to fit your will. As for how to use such a thing though, he couldn't even begin to think of the method.

Shadow King: Yes, magic! So many different kinds, so many different ways to make the world obey your command...and I know all of them!

He got a little closer to the puppet, his grin stretching as his eyes curved in what seemed to be excitement. He reached one hand and tapped against Faerie's chest.

Shadow King: Even better, I sense a itty bitty smidge of potential for it in you! Just waiting for you to use it!

Faerie was quick to step back, one hand raising to cover up the spot that had just been touched.

Faerie:...It sounds like you want to teach it to me, but what would you gain from it?

Shadow King: Only the knowledge that I aided a cookie in need!

Despite the 'king's effort to look sincere, Faerie knew he was hiding his actual motives.

Then again, perhaps just learning about this magic would be fine...if it seemed too suspicious he could simply choose to not use it. If he tried refusing outright then he risked agitating Shadow or just being pressed until he agreed.

Faerie: Alright, show me.

Shadow King: Wonderful! First, allow me to give a demonstration!

With that, the 'king' moved close to a spot on the ground. He looked over at Faerie's face.

Shadow King: Are you paying close attention?

Faerie silently nodded, but this just prompted Shadow to lift a hand near his own head that tilted slightly, he clearly wanted to hear the puppet say it.

Faerie: Yes, I am paying attention.

His voice came out slightly annoyed, but Shadow continued.

A blue glow travelled from the creature's hand and onto the staff, making the top of it glow brightly. Faerie also could've sworn that he could see what appeared to be eyes flickering in and out around the staff.

Once Shadow seemed satisfied with how much magic had gathered into his staff, he pointed it towards the ground and hit it with a small blast.

This blast didn't harm the ground though. Some cracks did quickly appear, but it was clearly from something pushing out from beneath the surface.

A hole formed, through which a black stem arose, leaves unfurling and a bud forming at the top. This bud then quickly bloomed, revealing black petals and blue eyes that glanced around and blinked.

Faerie stared at the very odd flower while Shadow continued to grin at him.

Shadow King: Now keep in mind, I can do spells much faster than that, and this pretty little flower is just one small example of what magic can do!

Faerie: I still don't understand how you did that.

Shadow King: We're getting to that!

Shadow moved back to being close to where Faerie was.

Shadow King: Since you're starting with zero idea what you're doing, I'm just going to ask you to focus on yourself and reach, deep, deep inside until you feel this well of energy, okay?

Faerie tried to do so, though he couldn't really bring himself to let the 'king' out of his sight. He tried to both focus on making sure Shadow didn't try anything and on trying to feel for this 'energy'.

Faerie:...I don't feel it.

Shadow looked somewhat amused by that, or maybe it was smug, perhaps both honestly.

Shadow King: Well, it'd probably help if you weren't staring at me like I'm about to bite you. You're letting everything else distract you and since this is your first time, you have no way of separating magic from everything else you're sensing.

Faerie didn't like what Shadow was getting at.

Shadow King: Try closing your eyes. Pretend I'm not even here!

He continued to stare at Shadow for a few moments before hesitantly closing his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm the anxiety that came from knowing Shadow was there and could be doing anything.

Eventually, after a few moments of Shadow not moving in a way that made him feel endangered, he allowed himself to focus inward.

He still felt nothing at first, just darkness and his own thoughts.

As even more time passed though, the world around him becoming background noise that was fading from his attention, he did think he felt something.

He couldn't get a very good read on what exactly it was. At the surface of this feeling, it seemed cold and firm like metal, and for some reason it made him think of the color of silver.

Silver like forks and knives descending down to pierce whatever was unlucky enough to find itself beneath it. Not exactly a comforting feeling.

It was a thin layer though, he chose to reach deeper still and found something warmer. Still silver, but now more like it had been melted down and flowed within the colder first layer. For some reason it brought to mind a tree growing, a warm voice he couldn't quite recall the sound of but he missed it greatly...or was it two voices? He's not sure. All he knew was that this felt much more like something he could use.

It seemed to be covering something else up though. It felt thin, just like the surface had. He reached just a little bit deeper past that comforting warmth and...

Faerie suddenly opened his eyes in shock as the cold, much colder and darker than the first layer of silver had been, hit him.

Shadow King: Looks like you felt something there.

Oh, right, Shadow was here. Somehow, he did what he thought would be impossible and forgot the unsettling creature's presence while he searched for the magic within himself.

Is that what those odd feelings inside him were? Magic? Did all magic feel like that? Why had that deepest layer felt so...wrong? Like it didn't belong there?

Faerie: I-I think I found it.

Shadow King: Perfect! Now we just need something for you to practice on!

If Shadow noticed Faerie's discomfort, he didn't bother to show it.

Should he really continue with this? He wasn't sure he wanted to risk tapping too deep and using...that in whatever spell he'd be using.

Faerie: What did you have in mind?

Shadow King: It's up to you, you're the one who's going to be performing the spell this time!

Then what should he use?

>Inventory:

Golden Key-I guess I could use this...

Dark Knight Doll-I don't want to lose it if things go wrong...

>Strange Flower

>Shadow

[myvoidbox]

Questions for the Shadow

>Ask about Shadow

Faerie: Why should I trust you? For all I know you are lying and will continue to lie if I bother to speak to you.

Shadow King: Awww, you don't trust me? The one who is at least trying to help you while everyone else just goes on their merry way? Hmph, well you do not have to talk to me if you really don't want to, you know. Go ahead, leave, I'm not keeping you here.

Faerie:...

Shadow King: Choosing to stick around? Why? If I'm not 'trustworthy' to you, then why don't you go?

Faerie, whispering:...Because I don't know where to start looking for answers.

Shadow King: I thought so! And if that is the case, then I guess you'll just have to decide for yourself if the answers I give are the truth or something to throw to the side!

Faerie:...

Shadow King: Oh, don't look at me like that! I swear on my title as king that I will tell you the truth and nothing but the truth! Does that make you feel any better?

Faerie:...

>Ask about yourself

Faerie: Are you certain that you don't know anything about who I was?

Shadow King: Well, you awoke in my kingdom so I suppose one thing I know is that you're one of my lovely little subjects who just hasn't found his place here yet!

Faerie:...Don't call me that.

Shadow King: Call you what?

Faerie: One of your 'subjects', it feels wrong.

Shadow King: Ooooh, but why? Is it not true that you woke up here and don't recall anything beyond this kingdom?

Faerie:...That is true, but...this place doesn't feel like home.

Shadow King: Ah, so that's the problem? That's the funny thing about 'home' isn't it? Any place can start feeling like home once you give yourself time to settle, so maybe that's all you need, a little bit of time.

Faerie: I don't want to settle here.

Shadow King: Then where do you want to settle?

Faerie:...

Shadow King: Let me guess, you don't know. Do you even know what 'home' is supposed to feel like? I must warn you, many waste their lives trying to chase after something that doesn't exist just because they can't be happy with what they have. Try not to do that to yourself, okay?

>Ask about the Burning Tree

Faerie:...Why is that tree burning? Is there a way to stop it?

Shadow King: Why exactly do you think it needs to be stopped?

Faerie: Because it is on fire.

Shadow King: But it isn't hurting the tree, is it?

Faerie: And what if the fire starts to spread!?

Shadow King: Like I told you before, it has been burning for days already and it has stayed strictly on this one tree. If it ever did try to spread, then I'd take care of it.

Faerie: Then why not 'take care of it' now? Stop it before it becomes a problem!

Shadow King: I would do that...but it seems my subjects are rather fixated on it. Either they are worshipping it as if it were some cruel god or they are blaming all their problems on its existence. While the tree might still be around if I stopped the fire, it wouldn't be special anymore. It would feel like taking a part of my kingdom's culture away, and I could never hurt my cookies by doing that to them!

Faerie:...What? Wait...I do recall some of the faeries speaking of some tree in a very strange way, and the depictions of a burning tree...

Shadow King: So you see, this tree is important to my kingdom just the way it is! There's no reason to stop it.

Faerie:...It feels wrong to just leave it like that.

Shadow King: Why is that? The fire doesn't hurt the tree, and it doesn't hurt anything or anyone else either, so what's so 'wrong' about it?

Faerie: Seeing it like that, something about the sight troubles me greatly, even if I can't quite recall why.

Shadow King:...You'll get used to it.

>Ask about the kingdom

Faerie: Not to be rude, but...are your subjects okay?

Shadow King: Hm? Of course! They're all happy and thriving, why would you feel the need to ask?

Faerie: The way they speak and act...It doesn't make any sense to me. They speak in riddles, move about like they're constantly performing...some of them even do things that feel very dangerous without any thought of the risk to themselves or others. A few of the faeries seemed to forget what we're talking about mid-conversation...

Shadow King: So? What is so strange about that?

Faerie: I can't help but question how they can function like that all the time.

Shadow King: Because they know they can rely on me if anything goes wrong! They don't need to think things through, or think at all if they don't want to, I can do all that for them!

Faerie:...You 'think' for them?

Shadow King: Only if they don't want to do it themselves!

Faerie:...That feels very, very wrong to me...

Shadow King: Well, what if your 'feeling' is the one that is wrong?

Faerie:...Don't say that.

Shadow King: I'm just saying, you don't really have any idea of what 'normal' is. You're just uncomfortable because the kingdom is different from what you think normal should be, even though you don't know anything else but this!

Faerie: That's not-! It isn't like that!

Shadow King: Then enlighten me on what it is like then.

Faerie, whispering:...I don't want to talk about this anymore...

[All dialogue options have been used]

[NEW DIALOGUE HAS BEEN UNLOCKED]

>Ask about leaving the kingdom

>Try to leave the conversation

[myvoidbox]

The Tree and the Shadow King

Note: This scene would be set after the puppet wandered around talking to various clown faeries that weren't exactly the most coherent cookies to talk to and when he noticed some sort of light in the distance he chose to follow it due to lack of options. The kingdom is surrounded by a massive gated wall whose doors won't open for him.

Set: The room of the Burning Tree

After some time of walking, the puppet finally reached a blue archway with bright lights flashing on it. These weren't the source of light he was following though, that fiery light was still a little up ahead, now close enough that he could begin to make out the shape of it.

Not enough to actually figure out what it is yet though.

Even still, now that he was so close, he felt a sense of anxiety inside him was pushing him to hurry.

So, after briefly looking at the eye at the top of the arch and seeing it blink back at him, he crossed the threshold.

He found himself slowly speeding from a hasty walk into a full run, feeling the anxiety grow as he got closer and started to realize just what he was looking at.

Finally, he came to a stop once he was close enough to get a full view of the source of the light, feeling the heat of the fire on his dou-...wood, the wood of his puppet body.

The light he'd been following was a tree, or rather, the imitation of one. It appeared to be made out of silvery paper, a large construct with long, bare branches with some twisting into odd shapes.

It was also on fire.

This tree was burning.

The tree is burning.

His mind clung to that thought as he stared at this tree, feeling a sense of horror, pain, and knew what he was looking at was wrong even if he could not recall why.

Puppet: How do I fix this? What do I do? Why...why does this tree feel important?

Then a new voice suddenly resounded in the space, its tone almost teasing.

???: Well, what I wouldn't do is get close to it, especially if I was a little puppet like yourself. Wood and fire...don't exactly get along with each other.

The puppet immediately looked around frantically for the source of that voice.

Puppet: Who is there!? Are you responsible for this!?

He wasn't sure why he jumped to such a conclusion, but something about that voice made anger and fear flare up inside of him. Perhaps it was because it was treating something this large being lit like a bonfire as if it were a joke.

???: Oh, relax, that tree's been burning like that for days and it hasn't even gotten singed.

He...supposed that was true, upon looking at the burning tree again he saw that while it was very much on fire, the flames weren't eating away at it. The silvery paper hadn't blackened and the structure of the tree didn't collapse or warp.

???: As for who I am...

The puppet found himself glancing down at his own shadow, which had moved to stretch in front of him rather than behind him.

Then a grin full of sharp teeth formed on its face, causing him to stumble back in slight panic.

The shadow then darkened as it stretched away and eventually detached itself from him completely.

As he watched this in stunned silence, the puppet found himself trying to regain focus and weigh his options if this new being turned out to be as hostile as his screaming instincts believed it to be. A part of him wanted to stand his ground and fight, but he had no idea how, he didn't even have anything resembling a proper weapon on him, and how would one go about fighting a living shadow anyway?

Then the shadow rose off the ground, now a pure black silhouette that had abandoned any resemblance to the puppet as it hung in the air before changing again.

Long hair grew from the head again, though it now hung in such a way to show off the bright blue eyes peeking out. Even more of those same eyes appeared all over the figure's body.

There were eyes on the legs, on large eye at the center of its torso. As long coat tails grew down its back their undersides turned blue with many pale eyes appearing. As a huge white ruffled collar developed on its neck, one last sapphire eye grew at its center.

Then the being's proper face developed. Its mouth was made out of white diamond-shaped teeth with no sign of lips. A somewhat more normal looking right eye formed, it was a bright cyan color with a white pupil and eyelashes. Where it's right eye should be, there was instead a azure symbol that the puppet couldn't figure out what it was meant to be.

Finally, the figure grinned in a way that felt threatening to the puppet before summoning up a staff with a flourish.

Even the orb on the top of the staff seemed like it was watching him.

Shadow King: I am Shadow! The grand ruler of this wonderful land you were lucky enough to find yourself in!

The way this 'king' spoke was more akin to a showman than a proper ruler or monster, but it wasn't enough to get the puppet to lower his guard. Given it seemed that Shadow wasn't going to immediately attack him though, he chose to fix his face into a guarded, neutral expression and try to take on a more confident, though not yet aggressive, posture.

Puppet: You're the king of this place?

Shadow King: Oh? Why is there such uncertainty in your voice? Did I not speak up clearly enough? Because if that's the case-!

Shadow then seemed pull out a megaphone out of nowhere, taking a deep breath as he prepared to use it.

The puppet quickly spoke before he had to be subjected to however loud that megaphone would make the king's already far too shrill voice sound.

Puppet: No! There is no need to repeat yourself! I heard you the first time.

Shadow paused, all eyes looking at the puppet like he was still thinking of using the megaphone for a moment before putting it away.

Shadow King: Well alright then! I suppose it is only proper that I give you a chance to introduce yourself!

Shadow moved down and circled the puppet like he was examining him, looking him up and down.

The puppet also tried to keep looking at Shadow as this happened, his body tense at the other's sudden proximity.

Shadow King: You know, I've been watching you for a bit. I've seen you stumbling about, talking to my subjects but never giving a single one your name or asking what theirs were. Rather rude, I must say, though it does make me curious...

Then Shadow suddenly stopped, his face far, far too close to the puppet's.

Shadow King: Who are you?

The puppet hesitated, taking a step back to get away from that fanged grin.

Puppet: I...I do not know. As far as I can recall, I awoke on a stage and found myself out here. I cannot remember anything else.

He didn't really want to admit to such a vulnerability to a being like Shadow, but he felt that if he wasn't honest then the king would just keep poking and prodding at him until he gave it anyway.

The answer seemed to make Shadow back off a little, now looking at him with a rather exaggerated expression of pity.

Shadow King: Ooooh, you don't even remember your name? Poor thing.

Then the expression turned contemplating.

Shadow King: Though, given your a puppet, maybe there is no past for you to remember? Maybe that stage really was where your life began?

Puppet: No, that makes no sense. Puppets do not just come to life suddenly, especially in a place that seemed so neglected. I also know far more than a being who was just born should! I must have some kind of past. Even if perhaps I was simply a inanimate puppet before, I had to have come from somewhere!

Perhaps the puppet's voice came out a little defensive, disliking the idea that he had awoken as a fully grown adult with no past or purpose given to him.

Shadow King: Hmmm...Maybe, though you'll find that some rather strange, unexplainable things happen a lot here. It also doesn't change the fact that you don't have a name that you can recall.

Puppet: I suppose...I do not really like the idea of simply calling myself a puppet until I can figure out what my real name is.

Shadow King: Perhaps I could give you a name? I mean, you are one of my subjects given you awoke in my kingdom, so it should be my responsibility to help you with your identity, right?

The puppet didn't like that idea any more than he wanted to be called a puppet forever, he didn't want whatever name Shadow would come up with, but then what should he call himself...?

Puppet: Faerie.

Shadow's body stilled, having been mid-thought about names, before turning his head to look at the puppet again, expression unreadable but the puppet couldn't help but feel like he'd displeased the king.

Still, he pressed on. For reasons he was uncertain of, the name felt right. It was incomplete, but it still felt like his and he would not let Shadow try to take it.

Faerie: I want to be called Faerie.

Shadow King: Just 'Faerie'? But that's so boring! There's so many other faeries here, so it isn't like that name makes you stand out!

Faerie: Given my wings, I'm fairly certain I was based on faeries like the ones in...your kingdom, so why shouldn't I call myself Faerie? It is my name to carry, not yours.

He found that his voice came out as more of a challenge than he intended as he looked Shadow in the eyes...well, the eyes on the king's face mainly.

Shadow stared at him for a few moments, before rolling his eyes with a groan of annoyance.

Shadow King: Ugh, fine! If you want to be boring, that's your choice! But if you change your mind and decide you want to have a fun name instead...I'll be more than happy to help you with that.

The newly dubbed Faerie stood there for a few moments longer, uncertain if this conversation was worth continuing. Then he glanced at the burning tree, that sense of wrongness and pain coming back just a little.

Shadow King: You know, having no memories and all that, you must have a lot of questions! No just about yourself, but the world you've found yourself in. I also happen to be one of the most knowledgeable cookies you will meet no matter where you go! So...why not ask me to explain a few things?

Faerie stared at Shadow with doubt. He didn't really trust this strange 'king', but he also didn't have a lot of options for finding answers yet. He'd already tried speaking to the faeries of the kingdom and he was lucky if their answers were even related to whatever question he asked at all.

Shadow was far from trustworthy, but he was also the most 'sane' creature he had met so far. He may not really have a choice if he didn't want to keep wandering around blindly hoping he'll stumble upon the answers he needs.

>Ask about Shadow

>Ask about yourself

>Ask about the Burning Tree

>Ask about the kingdom

>Try to leave the conversation