#implied death warning

[sour-heart-treats]

Dark Choco or Red Velvet getting their stones shatters 💀💀💀

There was someone staring at him. Red Velvet's fur bristled as he gripped his serrated blade- that of which felt heavier than usual yet wielded all the same. He could feel eyes peering into his very soul. But... from where? There was no one here. Within this crimson forest, dotted with pomegranate seeds, there was no life to remain... yet the commander could not help but feel as though someone was observing him. His slitted pupils darted across bark and leaves, attempting to find the culprit of his paranoia. "Whoever you are... show yourself!" He demanded, pointing his blade out towards the emptiness of the corrupted forest. "If you intend on harming me, know that I will show no mercy! Come out! Now!"

...Silence. Nothing but the rustling of the red and purple leaves above. Still on guard, Velvet would glower and growl. There was no one in sight, no scent to trace, but then... why? Why did it feel as though someone else was here?

"So perhaps this is what Pomegranate was murmuring on about..." A deep and brooding voice, recognizable to Velvet, had spoken from... somewhere. Inside? That couldn't have been possible. "Dark Choco?! Where- where are you?! This is no time for games!" The leader would practically spin himself around as he aimed his blade in every direction. "You of all people know that fussing about in places such as these could have dire consequences!" "I am not toying with you. Calm yourself." "Explain yourself, and perhaps I will listen!" "Gaze upon your visage, Red."

Velvet's gaze would fall upon a nearby spring, clear but tainted with a shade of purple from the pomegranate seeds spread within its soil and floating upon its surface. "Fine." He'd bluntly reply, letting his weapon lower and approaching the body of water. His tail flicked, though he could not feel it hit against his legs as it used to. Did it somehow get trimmed? That would be... disappointing. He quite liked the way it was. With a heavy sigh, the half-beast would disregard it and kneel by the water's edge, looking over and finding a reflection that... was not quite him.

Red to blue gradient eyes would meet him. Red hair striped with black and white flowing down to his shoulders, allowing the edges of his ears to peek out. Black and white fluff upon his shoulders, faint scarring over his blackened eye upon his dough that was speckled between red and brown, and his cake arm... Chocolate cake. His gaze wouldn't leave such a sight... There was something more than wrong here. "That's... Not me." Velvet would whisper, taking note of how his voice was noticeably lower... How had he not heard that earlier when he was shouting? "Dark, what is the meaning of-"

"Our soulstones." Red blinked, staring at the mouth that moved without his own voice. Seems like the way that each of them spoke still differentiated their sounds, yet there was still the shock that they seemed to be... fused. Was that the right word? "Soulstones... what about them?" The commander would lean closer to the water, trying to parse out what was his and what had been altered by his brother-in-arms. "A battle of unprecedented difficulty against the Cookies of Darkness... The enemy knew where to strike, and broke our very souls to smithereens. I expected our lives to end there, but it appears that the priestess had picked up our pieces... I assume she is still gazing upon our new soulstone at this very moment..." "...So then. We are one? What of our consciousnesses? Are we going to remain separate, or...?" "I do not know."

A moment of despair blew through the air as the two contemplated the question that had no foreseeable answer. Velvet lifted the body that no longer belonged to only him back to standing, slinging his blade upon his back. The pool reflected its true form, that of which had not changed much... Aside from the handle being more along the lines of his comrade's. He did not mind... It looked better that way, he thought. "Red Chocolate." Red thought aloud, faintly hearing a questioning 'hmm' from the other portion of him. "Our name. It has a nice ring, wouldn't you say? Very... 'us'." "It is blunt." "Just like you, wouldn't you say?" "..." There was a laugh from the body, though it wasn't clear if it was from one, the other, or both of them. "I thought so." Velvet would state with humor laced in his voice. "Perhaps we should report back to Pomegranate? She may be wondering if her experiment is a success... and I have my hounds to attend to." "...So long as we do not have to deal with the priestess for long, I would not mind tending to your hounds."

-----

This stone holds a piece of Red Chocolate's soul. The edges are sharp from placing shards back together. Holding it in your hands, you can feel it pulse with the desire to persist.

[sour-heart-treats]

"I hear your heartbeat in the frozen snow. It was left out there years ago when I laid beside you with negative intentions. What was it that you promised me? What did you promise them instead? I look out into the blank slate of nature, coated in the most dangerous blanket nature could ever manifest. I still hear it. It's slow, steady, and pulses in my mind endlessly. Why won't you leave me alone? Was that a part of this twisted promise that you brought upon both of us? Upon them, too? What purpose did they serve if you knew that promise was never going to come to fruition. Hypocritical you are. We all are. None of these flimsy words would ever make a difference in our actions, would they?"

"My heart lays in the snow next to yours, frozen yet still beating. What you sold to my soul was something that could never fix these broken words that fall from my mouth. Too many strings of words rang out like a chiming shepherd's bell. A bell that is chipped, metal is worn by the wind. What did I do? What did we do? Memories of us together are being covered in layer after layer until I can no longer remember what you looked like." "Any pictures of what once was were left at a home far beyond what we can return to. Did they get buried with you? Has the ice tainted them, broke them apart, and degraded what we had left? I miss you. You know this. Even they know this, as much as they do not care for us. I miss you. I can't keep missing you. I have to keep missing you. It's only natural, is it not?"

"Welcome home. There is no such thing. The warmth and the cold crossroads at the doorway, yet there is no difference in safety. Life or death, this wooden door means very little to nature. Besides, my heart is out there with yours, remember? I have not felt true warmth since. No touch has cared to caress the frozen ice the way that your words once had. I can hear you beating in my ears, in my chest, in the wounds the ice pierces. The wooden flooring is no different than the ice we once skated on. It is no less fragile than that same rink. The rink, the rink..." "Do you remember it? The pulse that goes through me says that you do not. Were you conscious in that cavern of memories, or was it blocked from your mind? Have you blocked me out, too? Blocked them out the very same way? What do you remember out in that whiteness? Can you still make angels? It must be odd making something in the image of... something. What even were those things that we made out there? Remember it for me, because I most certainly can't. Remembering what was done and what is here grows more difficult the longer the cold lingers..."

"Frosted windows obscure an already blurred view. Cotton sheets no longer remain fluffed and warm. I cannot remember the last time I had properly gone outside, if not to visit our hearts. The beat that drums through my body continue to distract me every moment I continue on with your heart in that white gravestone. Pillows are flattened and chilled, lanterns dimmed to only what is necessary. I cannot miss what I never truly had to begin with. What do you consider to 'have' out there? It is such an abstract concept to 'have' something... As concrete as holding something may be, my hands cannot feel you, and thus they cannot feel at all." "What color was your hair? Your favorite flavor? I can feel myself convulse in disgust, yet I am too empty to dare let anything out. Not a peep will be made from the shepherd or the sheep. A crackling fireplace is cackling with meaningless noise as it is put out for the night. Obscure sight with wool or cotton, it does not matter when the reminders continue to pulse. In the darkness, there is more comfort than in the light. What is it that you saw once your eyes closed out there? Was it the calmest sight that you could imagine? What did you imagine... when you tore our hearts out?"

"White is the darkest color, wouldn't you say?"

"You cannot say anything, but I know that would be my truth."

"The pounding of your heart in my veins will only end... Once the rest of my body meets my heart and becomes nothing but the darkest color."

[sour-heart-treats]

"Is it wrong to be enamored by injury? To stare- entranced- when a wound becomes open? To pry the skin apart just to look at the flayed flesh, or perhaps, the clean slice that could have created such a thing? I have observed blood now and again, watching it pool around what it is supposed to be contained within. I have, many a time, broken flesh just to observe how the red beneath it leaks out and eventually thickens up to a scab. How it changes color from the brightest ruby to the deepest crimson... Ah, just the thought of looking upon it sends my heart a-flutter. Tearing the flesh to see that red fluid... Oh, how I would kill to see it once again."

"Though... I already have. With a blade of mine, without the control of mine, the rain of red will fall again on this pitiful body. What is it that you desire to do with all of this, all that you have clumsily spilled? Ah, you are wasting your time. You are wasting your precious resources, all spilling out upon the floor. Look at the body. Look at it, dyed in such a pleasant color. You see red, don't you?" "So much crimson... and yet you stare at it still. Have you cut your tongue? You have no blood within you, it had long been removed, yet your gaze stays as if there is something there. I look upon the body before me, and crouch down to look at the many gashes and cuts. Taking such a fluid of life for granted is such a foolish thing to do. Living without it is so... Hollow. Truly, both would understand it, would they not?"

"I love this. I hate this. This is how it must be, yet it must never be true. Searching and observing such a vital part of the creature's anatomy that acts so mighty yet spills so feebly. What would it be like when this dried up oasis finally receives what it has been staring upon with empty eyes? These wings will carry you nowhere when it is filled with nothing but sand. Sand stained red, is it not? A single mission, it is that simple to solve. I miss you. I miss you, yet I am destined to leave you. I watch your blood flow into the sand, painting it with your wonderful bated breath. Are you going to let it out? Or shall you lay there? My blade remains, as do both of them. Them and us, us and them. Truly, what is the difference? Ah, perhaps I have become too enamored by your presence to properly appreciate the blood that you contain. After all, that is what I sought, isn't it?"

"Your blood, not you. Your life, not you. Your body, not you." "Not us, not I... Only you."

[sour-heart-treats]

"Erm... I am not too sure about this... J-just because I happen to kill them doesn't mean I should disgrace their bodies, too...!" Though still a nervous wreck, it made him all the more malleable. The kill was still fresh, even after being carved into by the two consumers of flesh. Carnivores, but worse. Though the voices that prompted him were fuzzy, it wasn't long before he could feel something warm placed upon his hand. "Are- are you absolutely sure...? I don't- I'm not nearly a-as vile as you two are, yet..."

Would it hurt to try? Would it, truly, harm him in any capacity? With thoughts running as fast as his heart beat, his logic would take a turn for the worse as the two prodded him. Sure, he could reject it and they'll have the rest- someone spoke- But wouldn't that just make you feel worse in the long run? Not being able to accept what you've become? Please, dear, it's for the best that you at least try it once... Don't knock it 'til you try it after all, yes?

His pupils shrank, though they were affixed upon what was placed into his palm. Some portion of muscle from who knows what part of the carcass. It made his stomach turn just thinking about it, but... All at once he slapped his hand over his mouth and brought the bloodied piece into his mouth- accidentally letting a few spare flecks sink into a relatively cleaner portion of his mostly red-stained cotton white clothing.

This...

This didn't taste half bad...

[sour-heart-treats]

I I wish to see energy Drink and champion muscle ples

"This is it," a somber, artificial voice spoke through their constant mask, "this is the end of our world." A heavy sigh was brought forth from the survivor of the apocalypse, another by their side looking on in confusion. The war had ended, the jellywalkers were rid from their lands. They weren't sure how it happened, but here they both stand, the sun setting upon the end of an era. "I don't get it, Gy. What end is there left? We already beat those damn 'walkers!" A gentle- at least by Champion Muscle's standards- punch to the arm would be given to the survivor, who gave nothing more but a hum. Their gaze was affixed on the sunset before them, as much as it would hurt a normal individual's eyes.

That sunlight was fake, and they knew it too well. They knew this reality of their's all too well.

"That disease is not what I'm speaking of, Champion." Energy Drink's gaze narrowed, a shiver passing over them at the revelation once again sinking in. "It is something far more... Drastic... One could not hope to understand if they are not blessed with a piece of certain knowledge." The warm air that surrounded the two- It was all fake as well, wasn't it? The stars in the sky were just as fake as the star for their eye. Energy's thoughts would have wandered further if it weren't for the brawn next to them acknowledging their words in the only way they knew how- with very little understanding.

"You're being cryptic again, Gy." The tone given to the survivor was quite low, though one that was fueled with underlying concern. "I know you go on about all that mysterious mumbo-jumbo all the time, but it seems to be getting to you this time." The grumbling that Champion was met with didn't quell any of the worries held within. "Listen, I know you can some strange lab-type stuff done to you way back then, but how about we just sit back and finally take a break? It's all over."

Silence passed over the two, and the glowing green fellow couldn't help but agree. They fell back, a small smile upon their face and beneath their mask as they finally closed their eyes. "It's all over... Yes, one could say that. In many ways, all is over." There was a small thud that shook the ground beside Energy as they let their body feel just a tinge of relaxation wash over their body. Ah, it seems even the Champ wanted to sprawl out after all that they'd been through. "I certainly hope we won't be forgotten." Gy would admit, eyes raising back to the edge of the world.

Before their very eye, the world would begin crumbling into white. Deactivation, discontinuation, dis... Something or other. Energy's voice would fall to a whisper as they watched the whiteness draw ever closer, knowing that everyone... Everything that was saved... Would be wiped away into nothingness.

"Perhaps we'll break out of this bleakness, too... I would love to see the Oven one day..."

[sour-heart-treats]

Maybe Roll cake angst?

Hop- Hop- Hop! Pancake, gleeful as ever, stamped his way through the dreamy wonderland that was CookieLand, accompanied by his brother Rollcake. Rollcake could barely see in front of him, holding what felt like dozens upon dozens of plushies won from games. Kids recieved plenty of free tries, so it was no doubt that Pancake was able to get an incredible amount of prizes. Hell, Pancake himself had even gotten himself a large unicorn plush to carry over his head.

"Oooh!! Ooh!! Rolly, bro, look!!" Pancake chirped, pointing ahead to one of the many rollercoasters of the dreamworld. Rollcake had to poke his head through the wall of plushies in order to see, but nonetheless it seemed like... A very old ride. Chipped paint and rusted bars. But, hey, the ride wouldn't be open if it was dangerous, right? "Are you sure you wanna ride that, lil bro?" Vigorous nodding left the roadroller operator sighing. "If you say so, Panny... Just make sure you meet the height to ride."

With his younger brother skipping to the height chart, Pancake was gleeful to see he could ride by himself. Running back to his brother, who was struggling to hold everything as is, the large unicorn plushie was tossed onto the pile, causing it all to tumble down.

Rollcake didn't mind, and neither did Pan. The two simply laughed it off, and Pancake set the giant unicorn into his brother's arms. "I'm gonna go on the ride now!! Watch for me!!" With a soft laugh, Rollcake nodded and waved his younger sib off. "I will, I will! Just be sure to have fun!"

With a bit of time left until the ride would leave to send the kids screaming in delight, Rollcake took some time to gather up all the prizes and more properly hold them. With some time, he was able to sort a few plushies out, yet it wasn't enough time to look back and see his brother be sent off on his ride. He felt a little guilty, but at least he could watch the ride go on across CookieLand as he held the large unicorn plush the closest. After all, the kid had an attatchment to it.

Zoom, zoom! Whoosh, whew! The ride went wild, in the way Rollcake knew his brother loved. Zipping all around, he swore he could faintly see Pancake among all the other kids that rode on. Though, there was something Roll wish he hadn't seen... Something that caused him to clutch that unicorn plush tighter than anything he'd ever held...

...The ride flying off the rails- horrifically literal- off somewhere he couldn't see.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to see that, either.

[sour-heart-treats]

Melting Birthday Cake Cookie?

"Ah, right! So you wish to have your party... Here...?" The doubt in her voice was prominent. The embodiment of flame having his party upon the side of a volcano with cracks within the ground was not the safest place, but...

"No where else is acceptable! It's the best place, I can tell you that!" If there was a polite way for Birthday Cake to tell Fire Spirit off for how horrible wrong he was, she'd say so, but stubborn minds were never her strong suit to handle. "Right... Clearly." Thank goodness flames didn't pick up sarcasm as much as they picked up fuel.

With a forced grin, Birthday Cake made a small walk about the area, noting the cracks and faults in order to plan areas accordingly. If she couldn't avoid the hazards, she could at least plan around them. She found herself sweating- the heat effecting her more than anticipated. Nevertheless, she pressed onward and planned out the area in a little notepad of her's, making notes of every nook and cranny and-

Shake-?

The ground beneath her rumbled. The ground, unstable as it was, held up enough for B-Day to stand her ground. "Ah-! An earthquake?!" Yet another hazard! The only thing that could make things worse is...

"Oh, would you look at that!"

"Huh?"

"The 'great' Red Dragon is throwing another temper tantrum again. Looks like we're gonna get showered in magma soon! Ha!"

Looking up towards the sky, yes, Pitaya was soaring them, howling and roaring as dragons typically do. They circled the area, particularly around the volcano... The two of them stood upon.

"I- I don't mean to cut this planning session short, Mister Spirit-" Birthday sputtered, trying to keep her composure by clearing her throat, "but this is a dangerous situation for someone such as myself. May I be excused and we can reschedule?"

The strange look Birthday had recieved only caused her stomach to turn as Fire Spirit turned to her, shrugging off the danger. "No need! I'll just take you into the air, where the magma can't reach you!"

"Wait, but-"

Before another word was spoken, the party planner was swopped up into the spirit's arm, and taken to the air. Immediately, the heat charred her dress and pressed further. Just the close proximity alone was enough to burn her, but direct touch? Ohh... She could feel her insides being charred and melted.

...and Fire Spirit would be none the wiser until he'd gotten a fatal distance from the ground.

[sour-heart-treats]

cinnamon's curiosity getting the best of him?

Stumbling into the great hall of tomes he's entered time and time again, the foolishly smiling magician took in the large range of books set upon endless shelves. There's no sign of the ceiling, meaning there had to be some tome perfect for what he was searching for.

Cinnamon practically skipped throughout the library, taking out books and forgetting to put them back in the proper place. Books on how to show appreciation to a sibling, the art of gift-giving, types of gifts, all leading up to a tome of how to create the best hand-made stuffed animals.

"Ah! This will be perfect for Snowy!" He spoke chipperly, dragging out a tome from the shelf from the top of a comedically tall ladder. "Something to warm their lonely lil heart~!"

Hopping down, with little sprinkles of orange powder falling from his cape turning into a mass of plush as he cushions his own fall with a poof of magic, Cinnamon's smile grows eagar as he looks down at the collection of knowledgable pages. Oooh, that little snow kid is going to love this!

The opening of the book resounded in the silence, along with a quiet hum as the magician read page after page. Quiet page turning. Though this turning was brought to unsuccessful gripping. What? His friction was lost? Looking closely, Cinnamon soon found himself screaming as he realized his hand had become patchwork. Soon enough, he realized the lack of sensation his hand held, and it was gradually expanding.

Panic soon set in. Waving his hand about in an attempt to shake off the cloth that was now his skin didn't help in the slightest, yet he did so anyway. The magician attempted to cast a spell with his hand in his still-feeling hand to ward it off, but without focus, the spell only casted an extension onto his other arm. Horrific. Utterly horrific. He can feel the start of his shoulder turning to nothing more than plush and cloth.

This did not help.

He cannot help himself.

...but what a lovely decoration he'd make for the library.