Aug 14
Not sure Rolan needed a hands-on demonstration, but I'm sure he learned a lot from it :)
seen from China
seen from Guatemala
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seen from Türkiye
seen from India
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seen from Malaysia
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Not sure Rolan needed a hands-on demonstration, but I'm sure he learned a lot from it :)
little doodle
Did some ref sketches of my characters :]
oh and have this
love can be ruthless... indeed.
an old piece of art, but... relevant with the other reblog :3
Downfall
It’s the end. Dirk and their crew have made it to Kane’s Machine. Subodai had once vowed to help Dirk win their destiny. Now it is time to prove it, to fight by his captain’s side until either Kane falls, or they fall.
Will this be their final battle? It is a good day to die...
Yeah, this would probably fit better for Day 31, but if you pair the prompts Mooshu and Horse together I will write about my boy Su. It’s my birthday today; I can do what I want.
Content Warnings: Canon violence, canon-atypical gore.
Word Count: 5633
The Machine towers over us. Your destiny. Everything you’ve ever done since we first met, and perhaps even before then, leads now to this. A history of epic proportions, contained in but a few months. There will be a great and terrible battle here; all epics end so.
Will this be our final battle?, I cannot help but wonder. This will be either the end of the Armada, or the end of us. It is a good day to die…
“Su-” Your face holds pain. The earring I gave you glints almost as bright as your eyes. You look like you might cry. I realize that I’d spoken my thoughts aloud. Shit, I didn’t mean to.
“There’s the elevator,” Gracie cuts in, pointing ahead. “Let’s get to the top of this thing!”
We rush ahead and all step into the lift at once. The lift is crammed. I press myself against the walls so I don’t crush anybody else with my armor. The wall scrapes my armor. The constant rumble and creaking of wood and metal, and the closeness of the space, reminds me of the prison ship we’d escaped. I struggle to breathe.
The lift reaches its peak, rising into the heart of the Machine, an overwhelmingly large room with a grand platform in the middle. I vault over the metal railing around the lift’s platform. You follow me. Fan and Monkey King do too. Everybody else walks off the platform normally.
“Look at this thing,” Gracie gasps. “I can’t believe it!” Her tail swishes like she’s mad, but her voice is one of wonder.
Old Scratch taps your shoulder. “Captain! There be the crystals from the Gold Monkey Valley!” He points up to the structure in the middle of the room, and I see what he sees. The crystals are small and glow with energy stark against the Machine’s metal. “Kane brought them here,” Old Scratch continues, “but why?”
You say nothing. You don’t even look up at what Old Scratch points out.
“There be bad mojo in this place, Captain. Believe it!” Old Scratch insisted. He’s noticing your unresponsiveness.
Gazpaccio steps forward, holding the Golden Heart in his hand. “Kane!” he calls, his voice barely sounding over the Machine’s constant noise. I hear Monkey King let out a low tsk-tsk-tsk. I cannot help but agree with the old trickster. Charing upfront into battle is one thing. Stepping out and calling for the enemy to reveal himself is suicide. “The time has come, my son, for all of this madness to end! I-I come to repair your soul; to bring you into the light!”
Hesitation.
“Kane?” Gazpaccio asks again. “Where are you?”
I hear Kane before he speaks. He steps up to the edge of the central platform. “Here.” He takes aim and shoots the Golden Heart. Gazpaccio didn’t react in time; he couldn’t.
“The Heart! No!” Gazpaccio yelps.
“Yes, that’s finally out of the way,” Kane said. His voice is level and cold as any leader’s. It’s chilling. “Thank you for bringing the Heart into the open. But why stop at only one heart?” He takes aim at the other heart Gazpaccio holds; his beating human heart.
Nobody makes any move to stop it. We are all frozen in shock, or something.
Gazpaccio falls to the ground. “My son… how could you…?” His voice peters out. I’m familiar with the sound of men taking their last breaths and uttering their last words. He is dead.
The crew erupts in panic. “NO!” “YOU FIEND!” But you are silent as a corpse. You watch, unreacting. There’s a distant stare in your eyes. I recognize it. My father had the same distant stare before he was shot in the throat. The horrors you see around you are so deafening you cannot hear them anymore. The white snow turns red as strawberries in the summertime and you cannot see the spilt blood anymore.
Have you seen this before?
Kane begins to monologue. Proud and haughty. He reminds me of Toghon. “Children are meant to replace their fathers,” I hear him say clearly. That sentence weighs so heavy on my mind that it sinks before I can think about it. No doubt, that sentence will resurface when I try to sleep.
He keeps talking. He reveals his dark plans, to rush to El Dorado with the map he remade from scratch and then to ‘perfect’ the Spiral.
I look to you again. You don’t seem to even care. This isn’t like you. What’s going on?
A group of four Armada soldiers appear, blocking the stairs leading up to the central platform. Where had they come from? Kane snaps his fingers. “Destroy the intruders,” he orders the soldiers. Then he sneers to you, “Goodbye, pirate.”
You look at the soldiers. “Mob fight. Tío, Fan, Bon, to me.”
I’m not surprised that you call them forth. They’re not surprised either. You’ve fought with Fan and Bonnie at your side ever since it was just the four of us on your crew, and El Toro is a strong fighter too, good in quicker fights. You expect this scuffle to go by quickly, then.
And it does. You all leap into battle. I never understand what keeps the rest of us from getting involved and outnumbering the enemies you fight, but those details don’t matter now. Bonnie gets hurt but you heal her with a touch of your magic. I’ve learned a long while ago not to question where your magic comes from; you’ve always insisted you’re a typical child who just got their hands on some knives, but you’re neither typical nor a child. Extraordinary in too many ways for me to count right now. I must stay focused; we all do.
As the last soldier, a Battle Angel, buckles under your strike, Ratbeard cheers, “Now there’s none left. None but the king!” He gives the center platform a stink-eye. I take a step back. I see Kane standing on the platform. He hadn’t retreated after killing his creator; he had kept fiddling with this monster of a machine as we were distracted by the fight!
“Yes, and now he is in danger. Check!” El Toro quips.
I feel the beginnings of a headache build in me. Now is no time for chess puns!
You lead the way up onto the central platform. Your gaze is sharp and you hold your finger up as you walk, as if you’re pointing at something only you can see.
Kane stands on the platform, waiting for us. “My, but you have grown stronger,” he says. From any other person, it would’ve been a compliment. “Your victory was highly unlikely-” as if; we can take on the Armada’s soldiers any time! What the fuck kind of weaklings does he think we are!? “- but I’ve accounted for it.”
Words echo from nowhere and everywhere at once: “Preparations complete.” It must be the Machine itself speaking. We are truly within the belly of the beast, now. “Deconstruction fleet ready to launch.”
“Hold launch,” Kane commanded the Machine. “This was the least favorable scenario, but still acceptable. Prepare my escape craft and destroy this chamber.”
I can feel everyone start to panic. The tensing of muscles and short gasp of breath, as they get ready to fight or flee. I look to the lift; it’s a fair dash away. Would we make it before the entire room is destroyed? Even if we get onto it, would we be safe or would we still die? I don’t want to die like this, caught within the Machine’s destruction. If I am to die, it will be by another’s blade or arrow or gun or magic!
I sneak a glance back at you. You are still reactionless. You fear this less than I. Do you know something nobody else does? Is Kane bluffing? Will we not be destroyed helplessly?
“No,” says the Machine.
Against all odds and dying hope, we are spared a helpless death. How did you know?
Not even Kane seems to expect it. He acts like any other person, flinching at words. “What?” he demands of his creation.
“Destroying this chamber will render me inoperative,” the Machine speaks. “My purpose must be fulfilled. Any delay is unacceptable.”
Oho, Kane is pissed! It warms my heart to see his steel-cold demeanor snap into brittle shards. “I have given you an order! You will obey!” he barks at the Machine.
“No,” says the Machine again. “My purpose is all that matters. I am ready to achieve it. You are no longer required.”
El Toro laughs. “Children are meant to replace their fathers, eh? How does it feel, you monster?” There is a slight growl in his voice, more than his accent normally gives. Of course he would take that quote of Kane’s and twist it into a witty one-liner. His taunts will be the death of him, I swear to God.
The Machine’s voice booms once more: “Initiating defensive sequence. Beginning launch of Deconstructor Fleet.”
Kane storms to a lift on the platform and ascends to some other room. He is running away, delaying his inevitable. The coward! My hunger for the chase burns hot enough to melt metal, but we have other issues. Like, the entire Machine being about to explode.
“NO! We’ve gotta stop it!” Gracie shouts. She grabs your arm and points out three boxy devices rooted into the platform. “Destroy the main mechanism- hurry!”
El Toro, Fan, and Bonnie Anne step up. You hold a finger up as Bon approaches. “Take a breather, Bonnie. Sarah, you up?”
“Of course,” Sarah Steele says.
The four of you step forward, staying close to each other. As the clockworks approach (wait, where did they come from? They just spawned out of thin air!), you all brace yourselves. You cloak yourself (I must wonder, why is it that sometimes you can bring everybody into your invisibility, and other times you can only summon your fog over yourself? Is it strategy, or are you randomly hindered?) Two of the robots charge at Toro and Sarah, the other two hang back. It seems they will strike later; a semblance of strategy from these mindless machines.
You direct your crew before darting to the furthest of the Machine’s mechanisms. Fan destroys another of the mechanisms on her own. A Dragoon thrashes her badly but she holds on and does some damage to it as well. El Toro and Sarah rush towards the third- they’re intercepted! A marine restrains Sarah, and a battle angel, blasted thing, swoops down on Toro. They trade blows, but he’s cut down. You cry out.
I want to rush into the fight to avenge Toro. No doubt I’m not alone in the thought. But something holds me back. What’s holding me back!?
You destroy the second part of the Machine. Sarah gets closer to the last mechanism, attacking a clockwork Marine first. Fan runs around the Machine’s center column, getting closer to you and Sarah. The Marine targets Fan. It knows she’s weak. I shout at her to watch out but even with my warning she’s taken down. You enact vengeance upon the Marine. You and Sarah destroy the last of the Machine’s mechanisms.
The Machine’s voice thrums one last time, its voice petering out. “Core mechanism… compromised… Can not…” The constant creaking of gears quiets down, as if the Machine sighed its last breath. A lamentation of the moment.
You rush to Fan and helped her stand. She leans against you. Sarah and Bon help El Toro rise. He’s extra shaky from bleeding out. His white cape and pants are stained red with his blood. “Y-You did it,” he gasps as he gathers his bearings. “The Spiral is saved.”
“Wait, isn’t this place gonna explode or somethin’?” Ratbeard asks. That was still a possibility? I thought destroying the Machine would keep it from self-destructing.
“I think not,” Gracie promises. “Evil strongholds don’t automatically do that, you know.”
“Excuse me, what happened to Kane?” Monkey King asks. He points to the lift that Kane had risen up on earlier.
Kane’s voice rings through the Machine, overwhelming as the Machine’s voice itself. “You think you’ve won!? This is only a delay! I can rebuild my machine- that’s a trivial matter!” It really doesn’t seem like it, with how pissed he sounds. We are really striking him where it hurts! He can’t run anymore. “But first I must become perfect in El Dorado. Come try to stop me, pirate! Come to your doom!”
“After him, capitane! For the Spiral-!” El Toro encourages. He takes a step forward. His leg buckles under him.
Bonnie Anne catches him. “Careful!”
“I’ll be fine, I promise you, Bonnie.”
You sigh, “I’m not bringing you into the final fight, Toro.” Your gaze lands on him, then goes distant again. Your finger moves, again as if pointing to something only you can see. “I’m not bringing you either, Fan. You both deserve rest.”
“Bring?” I finally ask. I can’t keep my questions inside anymore. “We’ll all fight alongside you, Dirk. You don’t have to fight with just your three best.”
You give me an expression that I cannot read. It’s… melancholic and pained and distant and serene all at once. Am I wrong? Are you forced to fight with only three of us at a time? Why? What restrains you? “Come on. Let’s get this run over with, once and for all.”
We step onto the second lift. Somehow it feels even smaller than the first. I can’t let my discomfort show. We have a war to win.
The lift makes it to the final room. The floor is made of black-and-white marble, in a chessboard pattern. A massive Valencia-centric map of the Spiral is on the far wall, stone inlaid with gold. This is the closest to a throne room that Kane would construct for himself.
The last time we stood in a throne room was Duomo hall. A painful memory. I still bear the wounds from the guards, I think. I should still have them. Is adrenaline driving me to ignore the pain?
Kane watches us ascend. By his side are all of his elites, including the ones we’ve destroyed. I blink. This can’t be real, can it? I’d kicked Deacon’s broken body down into the waters in the mines of Cool Ranch! And Rooke was left to burn and fall in the Trafalgar vortex!
It’s real.
“We’ve played a long chess game, you and I,” Kane taunts, “and you’ve done far better than I expected. But now it’s time I was rid of you.” He sounds so fucking smug. I want to bash his goddamn face in. “How about one final match? To be sporting, I’ll only use half my pieces.” He laughs. Cocky piece of shit. I’ll make him eat those words! He’s not even physically capable of eating! “Is that not generous?”
“Deacon! Rooke! But how!?” El Toro asks. It seems the wounds from the last fight are addling him, if he’s only noticing the rest of the elites after Kane’s opening speech.
“They’re only machines,” Kane explains dismissively. “It was expensive to replace the children you destroyed, but I managed.” More children. That’s all they are to him. Children. Not even tools, respectable and useful in their department. Children. What the fuck is wrong with him!?
More like what the fuck isn’t wrong with him.
“Bishop, of course, you already know,” Kane keeps explaining. I wonder what’s stopping Bon from just shooting Kane right now, while he’s distracted by his own ego and desire to narrate. It’d be a real asshole move, but this is Kane we’re talking about! He doesn’t deserve anything but the worst. “Allow me to introduce Queen, greatest of my creations!”
Queen, the clockwork next to him, with a sword in one hand and her mask held by a stick in another and a dress far too long to be practical, chuckles, “You flatter me, darling.” Her voice is what you would call sweet. An insult. Sickly like sap, with no real love behind it, no matter what petname she uses for her creator.
“Not at all,” Kane deflects. He raises his sword. “Kill them, my children. Kill them all.”
We all look to you. You said it yourself, you are restrained to only fight with three of us. So the question stands; who?
“Subodai. Scratch. Gracie.” Your voice is certain. You are fearless. You have been so unflinchingly fearless, it amazes and baffles me.
We step to the chessboard. We all have the same thought, to stand in front of you. If you die, then we are doomed. We cannot let that happen.
“Right. Slow techniques,” you command as your magic surrounds us. “Su, Gracie, hold back. Scratch, mojo flows.”
Old Scratch’s magic doesn’t feel at all like yours. Your magic settles on my skin and armor like snow. His flows through my veins like ice water. I cannot even use magic, but standing next to him I can still feel it.
We are hidden, and the Elites know it. So instead of charging towards us, making swings in the dark, they simply try to get a positional advantage. Kane retreats to the edge of the battlefield. Queen rushes along the edge, standing towards your left. Rooke follows, but only makes half the distance between us. A pair of Marines that had appeared alongside the Elites take a few steps forward, with Deacon and Bishop behind them.
“Steady…” you say. “One more turn of buffing.” You adjust your stance, shaking out any tension you can, and Scratch raises more magic.
Kane takes a step forward. Queen takes a step back, keeping her eyes trained on us like a falcon. Rooke stands next to her. Deacon and Bishop go against the edge of the board, and their marines go with them, flanking them in an L shape almost.
“Su. Can you 1v1 Rooke?” you ask me.
I would rather target Queen; we don’t know how she fights, which makes her more dangerous to me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t attack Rooke. Whether I can take him on alone… it would be a spar for the ages. “Yes.”
“Go for it.” Each of the tiles of the chessboard is large enough for one person to comfortably stand in while also small enough for one person to comfortably attack a person adjacent to them. You point me to one of the tiles. Adjacent to Rooke, diagonal to Queen. “Scratch, last mojo. Gracie, mine up.” You point her towards the tile next to the one I’ll stand on. “I’m gonna work on the Marines,” you finish explaining before darting off.
I swallow my fear, seeing you run into enemy lines. You know what you’re doing. I trust you.
I rush to Rooke. Thanks to your hide, I can get to his weaker spots without him able to defend against it.
I hear the whispers of magic. With a flash of light, Kane appears next to Rooke! Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK- In a bit of a blind panic I attack Kane. My blade cuts up his robe, revealing metal. He strikes back in vengeance. His blade glances off the armor on my shoulder and up at my chin. I kick him in the chest and slash at his robe again, exposing more of his metal guts.
Rooke attacks me at once. I try my best to fend against him. I feel regrets bubble in me. I cannot 1v1 Rooke. I was cocky. I made a mistake. I should’ve said no. But I didn’t. And now I’m here.
Gracie’s mine appears next to me. I hope that by some miracle, when it goes off, it doesn’t hurt me. That makes no sense, of course Gracie’s mine will damage everything around it. Including me. But I want to trust you, and all of your planning.
Looking away for too long was a mistake. Left me vulnerable. Kane attacks me, pulling me away from one source of panic and directly into another. He’s relentless. I try to strike back when I can, when there’s an opening, but he’s in a mad frenzy! He’s ruthless!
The pain piles up. I feel the blood welling from my wounds.
He kicks me in the chest. I feel something crack. Bone? Armor? I don’t have the time to tell which. He leaps with a twirl. I try to raise my sword against him but my arm is too heavy.
He cuts me down.
My hand goes to my neck. I feel the blood. I see it. Red. I fall. I hear you scream my name. Fearful, mournful.
My head is turned away from the battlefield as I collapse. My hand is pinned between my neck and the floor. The blood is sticky, clotting. I struggle to breathe.
Wait. I’m still breathing?
I try to get up. My armor is too heavy and I am in too much pain. I’m as good as dead. But I’m not dead. Yet.
Queen and Rooke step around me. I can hear another clockwork approach. Gracie’s mine explodes as it gets near me, but the clockwork hasn't fallen.
I hear you curse. “Shit- Gracie! Get that marine! Scratch, your summon!”
Gracie runs next to where I lie. She attacks, and the marine collapses. Its body slumps over and pins my leg. The weight is a bother, but nowhere near the pain I’m already feeling.
Kane steps over by body. I think my heart’s stopped from the panic. Don’t move don’t move don’t fucking move if he notices me move I am SO FUCKING DEAD. He’s attacking Gracie! Damn my torpor! If I were stronger, I’d perhaps be able to prevent this. Somehow. I wouldn’t be on the floor and trying to play dead for my survival, at least. That would have to count for something! If I were weaker, then I’d be entirely dead and unaware of everything happening around me. But I’m in the middle. Alive, weak, helpless, unable to do fucking ANYTHING! It’s more agony than my wounds themselves! Gracie falls with a pained whimper.
You shout her name in fear and mourning.
Rooke walks to his right. I can’t see him anymore.
I hear a sparkthrower shot, and the other marine falls somewhere on the board.
Scratch does some magic. It’s cold and deathly and it makes my fur prickle. It hurts the Elites, I hear them all wince. Kane’s weight disappears off of me. I want to sigh in relief, but I can’t. They’re all still so close to me. If one of them even thinks they hear me…
I hear Rooke attack Scratch. Scratch grimaces. I hear dry bones clatter against the floor, but I don’t hear Scratch’s voice cry out as he falls. Scratch lives. The minion he summoned must’ve been the one to be destroyed.
“Attack Deacon,” you command Scratch. “He’s low!” I hear you running. You jump over my body. I look at you. You don’t look at me. Do you think I’m already dead? I promise, I’m not! I’m still here! I’m still alive! I will still fight! I just… can’t. Not yet. Not now. I’m sorry.
I hear you weave some magic. It entangles Queen and Rooke. Scratch slings spells at Deacon.
I hear Scratch fall.
It’s just you now. Oh fuck.
The battle becomes strangely silent. You must be hidden. That’s the only way they’re not ganging up on you right now. They wouldn’t be able to aim at you. So they bide their time. You bide your time. I hope you know what you’re doing. What are you planning? What are you preparing?
I see Rooke and Deacon and Bishop gather in the corner of the battlefield. Deacon’s body convulses, twitching mechanically as something invisible overtakes him. Probably more of your magic, I think. He falls flat onto the floor. I am so glad to see him fall gain, even if I wasn’t the one to deal the final blow this time.
Queen stands over Deacon’s remains. Bishop walks to the space right above my head. I can barely see him from the corner of my eye. Rooke walks past my head, beyond what I can see.
You step over me, and I see Bishop flinch away from your attack! Your blades tear into him, then glance off into Rooke. He attacks you. I hear you laugh. You’re dodging his strikes!
Kane teleports on top of me. I stiffen. I’m getting real fucking annoyed of him standing on my fucking body. I’m not strong enough to try and stand and knock him off his feet without the rest of the Elite swooping down on me like a pack of bloodthirsty falcons. I just have to fucking grit my teeth and bear it.
That motto has helped me survive the slavery I suffered for some years, and the great khan game that I was made a pawn in back when we were in Mooshu a few weeks ago. I hoped to never have to rely on that motto again. But it seems my hopes and dreams and all my other sentimental bullshit are just made to die. Sucks.
Your shout pulls me from my thoughts. You go from laughing to panting quick and heavy. You’re scared. Queen is standing over Bishop’s corpse now, holding her bloodied. sword at the ready. Wait shit that’s your blood. That’s a Good Fucking Reason to be scared actually I’m not fucking judging you holy SHIT. I feel some of your blood drip onto my face.
“Oh fuck oh god I only have 33 HP shit shit shit-” I hear you panic. What the fuck does that even mean? 33 HP? What does HP stand for? How do you have 33 of these things? Where are you getting that number from?! Are you saying random shit to try and calm down!? Come on, pull yourself together! “AND NO HIDES ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” you screech. What the fuck does THAT mean!?
You run for your life. Queen runs after you. I hear Queen cry out in pain. You laugh in victory and relief. It’s the sweetest sound I’ve heard today.
You quiet down. You’re calming down. I hear you barely chuckle and say something. It vaguely sounds like “Found a hide”, but that doesn’t make any sense. In any case, are things suddenly under control? It’s just you versus Rooke and Kane. Can you 2v1 them? With your agility and magic and resilience, can you outlast them better than I?
I first hear, then see Rooke retreat into the same corner Deacon died in. I am so confused. He seems very confused too. Wait. You’re hidden and biding your time again, are you? Rooke wouldn’t know where you are, or where you’ll end up, so he’s just lying in wait it seems.
You rush to him, a cloaked blur. Your knives catch the light. You tear into Rooke’s inner workings. He shudders and collapses. Kane teleports to the square in front of me.
You smile. You attack him. He doesn’t go down. He kicks you in the chest. I hear a loud crack. Bone? Armor? Wait, you don’t wear heavy armor that can crack.
My eyes widen. He’s going to strike you with the same move he cut me down with!
He leaps with a twirl. You try to raise your knives against him.
I reach with my left arm. I grab his leg. I pull him down. “NOW, DIRK!” You don’t even need the command; I just want to shout.
You plunge your knives down at Kane. The blades land in his mask, crumpling the metal and nicking something important. He lets out a tortured scream and drops his sword. “No!” Kane shouts. His voice dwindles, breaking down. “Not like this…! I must… not…”
“Checkmate, you devil. Check. Mate,” someone else spits. I think it’s Bonnie Anne, but my head is still spinning from the adrenaline and blood loss, I really can’t tell.
Kane falls flat onto the floor, with only his left leg held up by me.
Our breaths are tense and ragged. You laugh heartily and swoop down to hug me. I let go of Kane’s leg. “We did it,” you gasp, a laugh bubbling in your throat. “G.G.”
You rush over to Gracie and Scratch. I pick up my sword and try to stand. It’s hard, with one hand still holding a wound shut. The rest of the crew come in and help the three of us stand. I lean against Ratbeard. Sarah lends a shoulder to Gracie. You pick up Scratch’s bones and reassemble him. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he works, physically. I don’t have to, though. He’s as much a friend and crewmate as anybody else, and that’s all that matters, in the end.
As we all gather and help each other up, I hear the Machine begin to creak and groan. A bright purple bolt of electricity and magic strikes from the roof to Kane’s broken body. It pulls him up. I strain my eyes and neck to watch this next bit. The bolt pulls him almost to the ceiling. His mask falls off his face and onto the floor with a painful rattling loud thud. The bolt takes something from his head: the Golden Brain. The rest of his body falls, even louder than his mask, and the Brain disappears in the light. Or something. I stop looking. My neck hurts.
“What the devil’s going on here?” Bonnie asks, her voice low.
“Kane’s Golden Brain, something take it far away from here,” Old Scratch answers. His voice sounds a bit rougher and quieter than normal. He’s weak from the fight too. “I an’ I cannot see where it gone. Mighty mojo indeed…” He then tilts his head to the side, like he’s hearing something nobody else can. “Captain! The crystals!”
You look at the corners of the room. I look too. I see more of the magic crystals mounted on… devices or something in the corners. I didn’t notice them initially. You walk over to them, without a lick of hesitation… or curiosity. You don’t even have your arm outstretched.
The crystals light up as you approach. How were you so certain that just approaching them would make them react? A voice we haven’t heard in a long time echoes around the room. “Kin, hear me!” It’s your mother’s voice. Her voice is faint. I can’t hear her too clearly. She may have said something else.
“Hear us!” your father’s voice echoes.
“Bless my soul!” Milo exclaims. He brings his hand to his heart. “Your parents’ ghosts have come back!” He walks up to you and puts his arm around your shoulders. The rest of us approach too, though slower.
“El Dorado… let it go, my child,” your mother begs you. “Gold is nothing. The Spiral is everything. You have saved it.”
“We are so proud of you. Now, we shall know peace…” Your father’s voice fades.
“Oh Captain my Captain it be true,” Old Scratch vows. “The ghosts of your parents, they be home.”
“I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” Milo cries. He pulls you even closer. He wipes some tears from his eyes.. He knew your parents before they died too. Of course this is an emotional moment for him. I give him space. “I’m proud of you too.”
“They may be gone, but you’ll always have a family,” Sarah promises. She rests her tail on your shoulder. You bring your hand to her tail.
“Arr… it’s true,” Ratbeard says. His tail wraps around you and Sarah and Milo. “Cap’n, you’re the best… the best… the best…” I hear him sniffle. He’s crying too. All the sentimentality is starting to get to me.
“Aw, take heart, ye old rascal,” Bonnie Anne chuckles. She elbows Ratbeard lighty in the side. “Captain, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of Valencia. It’s time to go home. What say we tell Avery the good news?”
You sigh and let your shoulders hang. “Yeah, let’s get outta here.”
We slowly make our way out of the Machine. I notice Gazpaccio’s corpse on the way out. Are none of us going to take him with us?
You say nothing about it. And none of us are in the mood to carry dead bodies, so we do nothing about it.
At least it makes the lift ride down a little less cramped, with one less person. I’m trying to hold onto the little things. I’m still reeling from the fight. We did that! I did that! The Armada fell! The war is won. Your destiny is won.
We stagger to the ship. Monkey King lends his staff to Gracie to brace herself against.
I look to you. Your gaze is distant. Your blood stains your shirt. “Just hold on, Dirk, we can wrap our wounds onboard,” I try to reassure you.
You nod. You grab onto the rope ladder hanging off the side of our ship. You climb up. The ladder sways with the wind.
You miss a step! I reach with my left arm. I try to grab you. Between the swaying and the panic, I miss. The rest of the crew try to help too. But we can’t reach. We can’t get on the ladder at the same time as you. It can’t hold the weight of two people. It would only break.
Your aim gets even shakier until your hands let go of the ladder. You-
You fell.
Off of the docks and into the cloudy skies below.
I screamed. We all screamed. But there was nothing we could do.
Just a faded family photo from ages ago. The father, young Jesse Gerard, and the mother.
shoutout to @fixations-101 for making this meme personalized for dirk after i shared it in the pitty oc server