“So hey,” Lyonel asked, somewhere around an hour or two in. “What’s up with the whole crazy echo-y voice thing?”
“Comes with the territory, ya know? You don’t get to be a demon this powerful without some perks. Pass the chips.” Alcor drawled next to him, reaching over blindly. Lyonel shoved the bag his way, eyes not moving from the portal before them.
What had initially just been Lyonel’s desire to stay in the Dreamscape for a little longer had snowballed into a weird sort-of playdate with the demon that watched over it, mostly consisting of them telling stories and watching the contestant’s battle their way past obstacles through the portal like it was some sort of TV.
-
“So, uh, hey.” Lyonel mumbled, sidling up next to the demon as the last of the remaining contestants stepped through the portal, disappearing. Alcor raised an eyebrow, glancing at him, but didn’t move. “What’s up with reality, am I right? Hehe…heh…” Lyonel scratched at the nape of his neck as the awkward (for him, at least) silence stretched on.
Finally, Alcor sighed, turning and floating away from the slowly dimming rip in space/time. “What do you want, kid?”
Lyonel jumped, startled, before grabbing his duffel and jogging after the demon. “Me? Want something? Haha, nonono, see, I was just, uh…um… making conversation?” The half-selkie trailed off nervously, coming to a stop in front of the other, who’d stopped floating as Lyonel went on and was currently giving him a face that could only be described as ‘Are you fucking serious rn?’. The boy sighed, eyes turning to the ground.
“Ok look, I was kinda hoping… you’d let me stay here? In the Mindscape? I mean, obviously not forever, but for like a little while longer? Maybe until the tournament is over? But I mean if you don’t want anybody stickin’ around, I would completely understand that cause like this is your space and we’re just kinda visitors here and…” Lyonel rambled on, voice getting more and more harried and accent getting more and more Southern as he went. The demon still didn’t look too amused, and shook his head before snapping his fingers. Neon blue duct tape appeared suddenly over Lyonel’s mouth, muffling his panicked speech, although it took the young man a second to realize it. When he did, he turned his wide eyes back to up the demon, eyebrow quirked in question. Alcor just rolled his eyes, drawing his feet up under him to sit cross-legged in the air.
“Kid, for God’s sake, just r̢͏e̵͘l̷ax̷͟for a second. Lemme get this straight, you’d rather hang around here in a magical void in the presence of an all-powerful demon, doing nothing for hours, perhaps even days, instead of going back to the real world and continuing your travels further north and away from your Father.” Even as the half-selkie nodded, the demon brought a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, ok, I guess I kinda answered my own question there.”
“Alright, selkie child, I will allow you to stay here in my domain for the remainder of the tournament,” Alcor said as he straightened back into a standing position, snapping his fingers again. The duct tape ripped off the young man’s mouth and disappeared. Lyonel gave yelp and licked his tingling lips, but as he owned his mouth to thank the demon, he cut him off. “Ǫ̸͞n̨ ̵o̶̶n̨é̷ ͞c͜o҉n̡͟͢d̕͞ì̕t̷҉ío҉n̨͡͠.̡”
“Um…” Lyonel shifted, eyeing the being in front of him nervously. They might have been… acquaintances, now, but making another deal with the all-powerful, all-knowing Alcor wasn’t exactly something to look forward to. “Ok… What’s the condition?”
The demon only gave a wide, toothy grin and laughed.
-
The half-selkie was snapped out of his idle musings by a clawed hand slapping lightly against his face.
“C’mon, S̀̀e͜͟l͡͏kię̶ ͝C̀̀͡h̀il̵d, hold up your end of the deal.” The Great Alcor the Dreambender growled at him. Grumbling, Lyonel reached into the bag behind their heads, and began the struggle of yanking out the next item with as little effort as possibly.
“I still can’t believe the only payment you want is for me to split my junk food stash with you. Seems a little too…straightforward, don’t ya think? Simple? Smooth? Synonyms?”
“I could always make it worse, you know.” The demon didn’t even need to look to know the other was glaring, and chuckled. “Nah, honestly kid, you take this wonderful bounty beneath our heads totally for granted, I’ll tell ya. I mean, I don’t need to eat, but I cannot tell you just how much I miss things like chocolate, cheezy doodles, those weird packaged cake things, and-”
“Puppy chow?” Lyonel cut him off, finally ripping his hand from under their heads, clutching a ziplock bag of what looked like powdery cereal.
“Um,” The Dreambender stared at it, unblinking. “What the hell is that?”
“I just said. Puppy chow.”
“What the hell is puppy chow?”
The younger gave an exaggerated gasp of horror, sitting bolt upright. “You don’t know what puppy chow is?!”
“Jeez, kid, chill out, it’s not like I’ve committed some cardinal sin by not knowing about some weird, presumably Southern snack.” Alcor flinched, snapping his response as he tried to subtle shy away from the bag. The young man opened the bag, a light puff of powdered sugar pluming up as he did.
“You practically have! And I’ll have you know it’s not Southern, it’s Midwestern. It’s just regular Chex mixed with melted chocolate and peanut butter, then covered in powdered sugar. Come on, cheif, it ain’t gun hurt ya!” Lyonel shoved the bag under the demons nose, shaking it slightly, causing the contents to jostle about.
Alcor growled, snatching the bag out of the other’s hands. “I’ll try some if you stop dipping into that ridiculously exaggerated accent.”
Lyonel just grinned cheekily as the demon delicately picked up a single square of the snack between his claws, before quickly popping it into his mouth. “It honestly wasn’t exaggerated at all, but thanks for the compliment, I think.”
There was silence as the demon chewed, brows furrowed in thought, before they quickly rose and his eyes widened. Without skipping a beat, he shoved his talons into the bag, grabbing a fistful and shoving it into his gaping maw. The man just grinned wider.
“If you promise to share that bag, I can teach you how to make them.”
The Dreambender froze, second fistful already moments away from being devoured, hand poised midair. He swallowed slowly, licking his lips.
“You could just… tell me the recipe. Or I could look it up.”
Lyonel shrugged. “I mean, sure, I could, and you could, but where’s the fun in that?”
Another beat of silence, neither moving, before Alcor sighed, crammed the second fistful into his mouth, and stuck out his sugar-covered hand.
“Deal.” He mumbled, voice muffled and bits of food spraying out from between his fangs.
Lyonel snorted and spat into his palm, before quickly gripping the demon’s in a handshake.
“Deal.”
Said demon cringed when sugar-covered claw met phlegm-covered flesh, and ripped his hand out of the other’s grip as soon as demonly possible.
“Awh, gross, what the shit,” Alcor exclaimed, poofing a handkerchief and a bottle of hand sanitizer in the air in front of him. Lyonel just shrugged, still smiling.
“It was only fair, chief. Your hand was covered in food and glittery saliva. I had to even the field there!”
The Dreambender grumbled, poofing the objects away again, before falling silent. The two shared a companionable silence, watching the portal and occasionally grabbing at the bag of snacks. But silence is made to be broken.
“So hey, what the hell is up with the whole 19th century get-up? Like the top hat and all.”
Waking up on the ground surrounded by an odd assortment of people? Not high on his to-do list, but he could honestly say he’d been through weirder situations. Waking up on the ground surrounded by an odd assortment of people in some sort of dimly lit void only containing said people, distant, dark pines, and a glowing, swirling portal? Pretty fucking weird, even by his standards.
Slowly dredging himself to his feet, Lyonel blearily rubbed his eyes and looked around. He noticed, again, that there were some pretty odd people in the small crowned gathered before the portal. Like, was that a little old lady?! Granted, she looked about ready to just charge through the portal herself, tapping her foot impatiently, but still.
Lyonel went to step forward and approach the crowd, but his foot promptly collided with something squishy but with little give, and he almost ended up back on the ground. Looking down, he was surprised to find the duffel he’d taken when he fled his Father’s home (not his home, never again). Giving the crowd another once over, he saw that several other people also had bags and satchels and the like. Shrugging, he bent down, slung it over his shoulder, and again tried to approach the crowd, with much more success this time.
But just as he reached them, Alcor popped into existence in front of the portal, hovering far above the gathered people and grinning widely.
“Hello everyone. I’m glad you could make it. Welcome to the Mindscape, or at least this small, humble corner. I am Alcor the Dreambender, in case any of you didn’t know or are tragically confused.” The demon gave a grand, theatrical bow. He then clapped his hands together sharply, and any last trace of sleep Lyonel still felt fled instantly. “If you bothered to read the letter I sent, you should know why you’re here, so let us begin.” He gestured to the portal behind him with his thumb. “On the other side of the portal is your first contest,” A sharp snap of his fingers, and the portal began to turn translucent, almost like a window. “And the most interesting land you’ve ever seen.” As the blue haze of the portal cleared, Lyonel was able to make out what appeared to be some sort of Candyland type monstrosity, with lollipops and rainbows and giant, cartoonish puppies. It honestly kind of hurt to look at, so the half-selkie turned his attention back to the talking demon. “Two of you at a time will enter on this end to your own, private version of the arena. There you will find a racetrack. The goal of the round is simple: win the race.” Lyonel’s heart sank slightly as he looked down nervously at his duffel. Running a race with this heavy thing wouldn’t be easy, for sure, but he was sure he could do it. But the as Alcor went on, Lyonel’s heart jumped his stomach to his throat. “Oh, and try not to get killed by anything in there, because it’s all deadly. The animals, the plants, the land itself, completely deadly.” The Dreambender leaned forward, conspiratorially winking at the group. “And dying on your first go, though impermanent, would be pretty embarrassing! Oh and also excruciatingly painful, so might want to avoid that.” He then abruptly straightened up, shrugging nonchalantly. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” Ripping the top hat from its floating position above his head, the demon gestured grandly at the portal with it, arms wide. “Anyway, good luck, break a leg! Preferably the other competitor’s! B̴͠ỳ̛͟͞é̢̛̕͝!̷͠͝” And with a sudden burst of blue flame, he was gone, leaving the now silent group to stare awkwardly at the portal, waiting for someone else to move first. Lyonel gulped and shifted nervously in the crushing silence. Just what had he gotten himself into?!
Surprise surprise, the little old lady was one of the first ones to rush the portal, full of energy and raring to go. The small crowd formed an uneven queue, pairing off randomly as they moved closer towards the blue glow of the portal. Lyonel ended up next to a pretty young lady, probably about his age. While he raised an eyebrow at the colorful highlights in her hair, he didn’t ask, figuring it kind of awkward to try to make small talk with your competitor in this situation. He did, however, smile politely at her, and she gave a bright, though slightly nervous, smile back. As it came time for them to step through the portal, he and the girl gave each other a final glance, passing a mutual understanding of “holy shit we’re actually going to do this”, before stepping through.
For a few, terrifying moments, Lyonel’s world was nothing but a blinding white/blue expanse that seemed to press intrudingly against his firmly shut eyelids. And then, all at once, it was a different kind of blinding.
A blindingly bright and colorful, headache-inducing rave of sights and sounds accosted the half-selkie, and he almost fell to his knees at the sheer pain of it. Judging from a quiet groan coming from somewhere to his side, his rival wasn’t faring much better against the sudden onslaught.
When Lyonel finally managed to wretch his eyes open, he immediately wished he’d brought sunglasses, and maybe some painkillers. It was worse than the portal had led him to believe. It was like someone had mashed Lisa Frank and Mario Kart together, then dumped buckets and buckets of glitter on the resulting monstrosity. There were rainbows, cartoonish flowers, candy foliage, what looked like a river of syrup or something in the distance, and was it just him, or did the Sun have a fucking smiley face?
The girl, he noticed, was also staring at the grossly cheerful scenery in front of them, but suddenly she seemed to come back to herself, shot him a smug look, and took off down the path. Startled, Lyonel took off after her, but slowed once he’d caught up with her. Unfortunately, she seemed to have the same idea as him: pacing. Running all out right from the start is a sure way to end up exhausted way before the end of the race, however far off that may be. Keeping a steady pace, however, is a good way to conserve energy as well as outlast your opponent. For a few minutes, they ran side by side in awkward, yet companionable silence, the only noise being their respective bags bouncing along and the cheerful, otherworldly sounds of the colorful horrors around them. So far, things seemed innocuous enough, though neither Lyonel nor the girl dropped their guards as they ran past giant flowers and weird palm trees made of paws.
Before long, they reached a fork in the road, and both slowed to an uncertain stop. To their right, a hill sloped down and into a dense lollipop forest that looked interspersed with gigantic pine trees, more of those paw palms, and what seemed to be rainbow cotton-candy. To their left, the path followed a cliff side view of what looked like the ocean, except it was neon pink, and the path itself was much more sparse.
Upon seeing this, the girl turned to him, stuck her tongue out, and took off down the left path towards the ocean, leaving Lyonel at the crossroads. The half-selkie mentally cursed, seeing as how much the water could’ve helped him… if it even was water. He toyed with the idea of following the girl for a second, but quickly scrapped it. While he wanted to keep close tabs on her, as well as see the ocean, that path just felt…wrong. So incredibly wrong. With a sigh, Lyonel turn down the right path, jogging down the hill and into the lollipop trees.
As he crossed the treeline, the previously sickeningly cheery sounds of the path so far abruptly fell away, changing instead to a much more subdued, ethereal sort of background noise. The near silence coupled with the crunch of the path underfoot set Lyonel’s teeth on edge. Something wasn’t right, he could feel it. Honestly, though, anyone could’ve told you that from the start of this crazy fucking experience. The path began to twist and turn through the trees, no longer a straight and clear path like before. Bizarre plants with sharp thorns lined most of the path, about knee high, and seemed to be the ones responsible for the sickeningly sweet scent of vanilla and peppermint that filled the air, making it thick and hard to breathe.
Ahead of him, Lyonel saw the path curve abruptly to go around one of the huge cotton-candy like bush things. He veered with it, and was looking up in awe at the sheer height the rainbow-colored plant (was it a plant?) reached, when he felt the ground begin to shift quickly under his feet. Fortunately, carrying his heavy duffel slung behind him made the half-selkie back-heavy, and the sudden change in his momentum forced his center of gravity more towards his ass. He fell backwards with a yelp, landing on the duffel, which threw him back further, and he ended up with his feet in the air and his neck bent at an awkward angle, his back braced against the bag.
After a moment, the adrenaline rush began to wear off, and with a grunt Lyonel swung his feet to the side and clumsily clambered back to his feet, adjusting the duffel as he did. Annoyed, he took a step forward to try and see what caused him to lose his balance, only to reel back seconds later, clutching the strap of his duffel tightly in horror. The ground where he’d just been was no longer there, as it had fallen away, down and down, to reveal a ghastly pit filled with colorful spikes that looked suspiciously close to sharpened candy canes. Maybe the flowers hadn’t been the ones giving off the scent…
“What is this, freakin’ Cat Mario or something?” The half-selkie mumbled to himself, shaken.
With a gulp, Lyonel inched closer to the gap, assessing it. It wasn’t very far across, should only take a few running steps for him to be able to leap across it. However, that wasn’t what concerned him: what if he landed on the other side, only for it to crumble beneath him as well? But this was the only way to go, and there was no way in hell that he was going to risk leaving the path, if only to take a few steps around a hole. The warning Alcor left was in the forefront of his mind, and who knew what kind of horrible things the thorns on those plants could do?!
The man squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, bracing himself, before he took a few steps back, adjusted his duffel, and sprinted the short distance to the gap before pushing off the edge, sailing across the gap and landing gracefully on the other side. Unfortunately, as soon as his first foot hit the ground, he felt it begin to shift, and as soon as his other foot hit he jumped again, pushing off the falling ground beneath him as hard as he could. He flew a few more feet, this time not landing very gracefully as he hit the ground hard and fell onto his hands and knee on the path.
This time, the ground held.
With a sigh of relief, Lyonel didn’t move right away, catching his breath and letting the panic of the situation bleed out of him. Upon closer inspection, what he had assumed to be a path made of gravel looked more like pop rocks and rock candy up close. Pushing himself to his feet, he brushed off his stinging hands. He moved to do the same to his knees, when he heard a rustle in the rainbow foliage behind him, and he froze. Looking over his shoulder slowly, he saw what appeared to be a piglet waddle out from under the cotton-candy bush, snorting at the ground. The pig looked up and caught sight of Lyonel, half-bent at the waist, hands hovering above his knees, and froze. The two stared at each other for a moment, a beat of silence passing between them, and Lyonel almost let himself hope that this would be a more harmless creature.
Then the piglet growled. A low, painful noise, like gravel being continuously dumped into a metal trash can. It bared its fangs, sharp and bloodstained, and lowered itself back onto its haunches, tense and ready to pounce.
Ok. Great. The piglet had fangs.
What the actual fuck.
The piglet–, no, not a piglet, the beast charged, leaping towards Lyonel at an alarming speed. Who, of course, turned tail and booked it down the path, pacing be damned. The two rounded corners, climbed hills, and descended into valleys, the half-selkie panting in exertion but never stopping, as the unearthly squealing of the beast behind him never faded. Thankfully, it never got any louder, either. He chanced a glance at it when they rounded a particularly sharp curve, and had to muffle a shriek when he saw it wasn’t just one following him anymore, but three of the little fuckers.
“What the shit do you guys want?! I’m a kick-boxer! And a swimmer! Not a fucking track star!” He shouted hysterically, but the pigs only squealed louder in response.
They were gaining on him.
Lyonel ran faster still, breathing heavily, his duffel swinging wildly against him and only making it more difficult to run, but he didn’t dare leave it. Panic was beginning to overtake him, having set in long ago, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this, when he saw a break in the trees ahead. As he got closer, his hopes were confirmed, as path ahead snaked through the opening: it was an exit from this forest hell.
Pouring on an extra burst of speed, and steadfastly ignoring the enraged howls behind him, Lyonel rocketed towards the exit, noticing too late the plants that overgrew the path. The knee-high, vanilla scented thorns had grown together, twisting and writing over the path ahead, making it completely impassible. Already upon it, and desperate to escape his pursuers, the man leapt, praying that he had enough momentum to carry himself over the thorns.
He didn’t.
He was close, landing on top of one of the plants, before vaulting over the last few and crashing down onto the path, his whole body hitting the ground with a thud.
He quickly twisted into a sitting position, scooting backwards away from the forest, before scrambling to his feet and backing away some more.
The pigs had slowed to a stop at the sight of the plants, and seemed to consider them for a moment, their beady eyes going from the plants to Lyonel and back again, before deeming him not worth the risk and turning around, calmly trotting back into the underbrush.
Lyonel collapsed back onto the ground, his knees giving out in relief and exhaustion as his second adrenaline high of the day began to fade. After a few minutes, he slowly brought himself to his feet, gave one last nervous look to the forest, and began to walk along the path, still trying to catch his breath. After another few minutes, he began to jog again, just as the path went around a large orange boulder and started to tilt downhill. As he rounded the bend, he caught sight of the other path, stretching parallel to his own, with the syrupy river he’d noticed earlier running between them, ending in a waterfall while the two paths continued on through the air, merged, and led under a large banner that said FINISH. The man nearly collapsed all over again, giddy at the thought that this hell was almost over. Until he caught sight of the girl on the other path, directly across from him.
She looked just as ragged as Lyonel felt, her hair all mussed as her dress torn along the hem, but she was still running at an admirable pace, and Lyonel forced himself to run faster despite his exhaustion to keep up with her. As he drew alongside her, she must have either caught sight of him or heard his bag, but she turned to him either way, leveling a desperate, vindictive glare at him. He just grin cheekily in response, and gave a jovial wave. In response, she just stopped dead in her tracks, turning to bodily face him from the other side of the river, and Lyonel stopped himself in surprise. She approached the river and began to move her arms in fluid, arching movements. Lyonel just raised an eyebrow, grin still in place as he crossed his arms over his chest in a patronizing manner. His grin, however, slid off his face quickly when he noticed that she wasn’t just doing this for shits and giggles: the river was responding to her movements. As he watched, jaw dropped, three perfect, warbling spheres of… syrup? (whatever it is) rose out of the river and hovered in the air before the girl. When they’re eyes locked, she shot him a smirk, and Lyonel knew that he did not want those orb hitting him at all.
With a flick of her wrist, the girl sent the first one flying towards him, and he dove onto his stomach to avoid it, leaving it to slam into the ground, the sticky liquid pulling the unfortunate plants it landed on into the quivering mass of the orb, dissolving them like some sort of acid, before rocketing back into the river and disappearing.
The half-selkie felt the blood drain from his face. Even the girl looked surprised at what had happened. But she just looked at the river, looked at him, shrugged, and sent the second one his way, moving just as fast as the first. Lyonel quickly rolled over, almost off the path, and with a shout crawled forward on his hands and feet, narrowly dodging the second orb as he staggered to his feet.
He tensed, stance wide and knees bent slightly, ready and waiting for the girl to make her move. She seemed to consider him, arms still weaving in complicated patterns, and looked around, as if trying to find the best way to attack. That’s probably exactly what she was doing, Lyonel realized, he’d seen that look on competitors faces before. And apparently she found it, as she gave a wicked grin and suddenly sent her final orb barreling…not at him. He relaxed slightly, looking at her in confusion, until she flexed her wrist and he saw the orb change direction suddenly in midair. Not prepared for this, he leaned back, the duffel knocking him off balance again and pulling him down onto his back, allowing the orb to speed by a fraction of an inch from his face. It whizzed past, ruffling his hair at its speed, and hit a paw palm instead. He sighed in relief, rising into a sitting position, noticing the girl looked furious. She began to move her arms again, more incensed than before, and Lyonel began to rise to his feet, preparing himself for another round of dodging, when a loud cracking noise suddenly split through the air, and they both froze.
They quickly locked eyes, teal meeting violet, and they both turned to the source of the noise. Both realized in a sort of slow, building horror that the last orb hadn’t exactly hit the paw palm: the paw palm had caught it. Apparently, the paws functioned like, well, actual paws, and the orb was resting gently against the pad of what looked like a giant dog paw. Lyonel and the girl both shared another uncertain glance, before their eyes snapped back to the tree when it suddenly launched the orb. Lyonel instinctively tensed, only to realize the paw hadn’t launched it at him: he’d launched it back at the girl.
She realized this as well, only too late, and though she tried to dive out of the way, the orb was already upon her, landing on her lower half and dragging her screaming back toward the river. Lyonel could only watch in horror as the girl struggled, fingers digging into the soil along the bank of the river in an effort to counteract the force of the orb. His horror only grew when he watched her legs merge in the orb, forming a beautiful tail: she was part mermaid, he realized dazedly. Part sea folk, just like him. And he was watching her die. She seemed to be making more headway with her tail, but the force of the river was too strong. She was sucked in, out of reach of the bank, eyes turned to him as she shrieked in fear.
At her cries, Lyonel shook himself out of his daze, running to the bank and reaching out across the water, arms straining.
“Grab on, hurry!” He shouted, his first actual words to her. She reached towards him, desperately trying to grab his hand, and they’re fingers brushed, but it wasn’t enough. The river was pulling her down, down, faster than quicksand and so much more deadly. Her screams turned more and more desperate and pitiful, until she was merely screaming at the sky, a wretched, sorrowful sound scraping its way out of her throat. And then she was gone, and it was silent again, her cries echoing away.
Lyonel sat there, kneeling on the edge of the river for a long, long time.
If he was honest with himself, he didn’t know what he was quite expecting, entering a tourney run by a demon. But it sure as hell wasn’t… that. For her to be gone in what had felt like an agonizingly long time, but had only been a minute or two. It made him want to vomit.
After what felt like years, Lyonel began to drag himself to his feet, and it was only then that he noticed that he suddenly had a very large problem. It took enormous effort to even stand up, let alone move at all. Surely he wasn’t this tired, and his duffel shouldn’t be effecting him this much. His thought flashed back to the thorns in the lollipop woods, his mind reeling. Was this what they did? The half-selkie began to panic, and slowly began to move down the path, the fastest he could achieve being a sort of shambling jog. He reached the fork in the road, the two paths joining, what should have been maybe a five minute jog taking him closer to twenty. There was only a stretch about half a football field in length, about 150 feet, between him and the finish line, but right then it looked insurmountable. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, and each step felt like thousands of needles piercing his flesh. Lyonel grit his teeth with each one, light gasps and grunts of pain escaping his lungs. The whole world seemed to be bearing down on him, and it was heavy, too heavy, too much everything, make it stop, please, make it stop—
Lyonel fell to his knees, pitching forward to land on his hands as well, and retched, but to no avail.
He’d never wanted anything more than to die.
With an agonizing amount of effort, he managed to pull himself along for a few more feet, his duffel dragging against the candy gravel that was cutting up his hands as he went. He didn’t even notice, and if he had, he wouldn’t’ve cared.
After what felt like another hour to the man, he gave in, collapsing onto his side, his back against his duffel, and didn’t move. He just stared straight ahead, eyes unseeing, as whatever the thorns did to him made its way through his veins.
And he was still.
A sudden shower of golden sparks and confetti exploded into being above Lyonel, bringing with it a familiar demon, who was this time blowing a noisemaker with one hand and holding a small flag with his symbol on it.
“C̴̵͘͢͞o̡͜ņ̵̡͟ģ̀̕͢a҉̕ţ̷͝u̢͝͡l͏͡a̴͡t̷̨͘͝͡i̷̴̸͘o̶n̶̨̨s͠҉͞,̢̛ ̕͠͞S͏҉͡é̶̕͞l̵͘͜͏k̢̀͜í͘ȩ̴̛̕ ̨̀̕͞Ç̶̀͢͠ḩ̵i̷̛͘͞l̨̧̛͠d̸́͜,̧̡͜҉ ̴́ỳ̕̕ò͏̵͞ú͢͡͝ –” Alcor stopped, looking around briefly, before his eyes fell to the ground. He stared at Lyonel for a moment.
“Why are you always down there?” He floated down, closer to the man, and poked him roughly in the side. At the resulting agonized groan, the demon grinned. “Well, you’re not dead, so that’s a plus! But the poison from those thorns will 100% kill you. So that suck for you.” Alcor straightened up, bringing his hand to his chin in contemplation. “However, Ms. Delmar did bite it before you. Not to mention you actually crossed the finish line while under the effects of the poison, even if it was just your upper body that crossed it. Which, by the way, is ridiculously impressive, that shit is super potent.” He glanced down at Lyonel, who hadn’t moved and inch during this whole encounter, and shrugged. “Eh, you’ve earned it. I’ll do ya a solid this time, kid.” With a snap of his fingers, Lyonel gave a yelp, springing up onto his feet as if electrocuted. He squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his hands to his head with a groan at the headache that comes with sudden healing and un-poisoning. When he could stand to open his eyes, he gave the demon floating nearby (with a much too pleased look on his face) the best glare he could muster.
“What the actual fuck?” The demon just gave an innocent shrug.
“Hey, I didn’t design the course. Send all complaints to my suggestion box, with the complaint being dagger and the suggestion box being your chest. But, more importantly, congratulations, kid! You beat your competitor on Mizar’s Racetrack! You get to move onto the next round! How’s it feel?” Lyonel just blinked up at the demon, before looking back along the track, at the river.
“Is she okay? The girl, I mean.” Alcor gave a frustrated groan, coupled with an overly dramatic eye roll.
“Kid, look, I saw how you tried to save her or whatever. And while that’s cute ‘n’ all, she was your enemy. You should’ve let her go, beat the race while she was drowning. But,” He said forcefully, cutting off Lyonel’s retort, “She’s fine. Like I said, you die in here, it hurts, yea, but you wake up having no memory that this whole thing ever took place. To her, it was just some vivid dream. Ugh, humans. So sentimental.” Lyonel just nodded, satisfied.
“Okay, so…Now what?” The demon grinned smugly, leaning in close to the man.
“What, you not even gonna thank me for sort of saving your life?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes and plopping his chin in his hands, pantomiming innocence. The half-selkie just leveled him with a glare, and he cackled. “Yea, whatever kid, see if I save you again. Well, just step on through the portal,” Another snap of his fingers, and another portal appeared, same as the one before, “And we’ll get you back to the other luckey winners. Round 2’s a treat, I guarantee.” Alcor drew his hat off his head, bowed low again, winked, and was gone in a blaze of blue.
Lyonel stared at the portal for a moment, before turning to face the racetrack once more. He took it all in, from the cheerful sun to the rainbows and the puppies and the candy. He glared.
“Good riddance.”
And with that, he turned, adjusted his duffel, and stepped through the portal.
How do you want us to format the story for the audition? Like, what should we include besides our username?
It’s all pretty informal; info that needs to be included is on the character sheet. Otherwise you can format it however you like though readability should be kept in mind.
Thank you for staying with me through the most difficult year of my life. I am very grateful you stuck around and helped me pick up the pieces. It was an honor to do the same for you. You turned the worst year into the best year, but 2015 will be better. It's the end of an era in my life (which sounds dramatic but I can't think of a more fitting word). Something great and new has just begun. I love you.
Dear Jordan,
You're one of the only people- no, you are the only person I am completely comfortable around at school. I don't have to hide around you. That must be a lot of pressure, but i know you understand why I feel this way. You've been an inspiration to me. Your dedication to improving yourself and your work has helped me get back in to the things i used to love. I have a lot of lost time to make up for, but I aspire to one day match you in my own way.
Dear Jordan M,
I know it's difficult to change. I am asking a lot of you, yet I'm not. I now know that you believe that maintaining our friendship is worth it. I have always believed that, too. It means so much that you are willing to give me that respect. Thank you. Thank you so much.
Dear Avery,
Thank you for being so cheerfully supportive of everything I have asked of you. A lot has changed in a very short time and you have accommodated those changes like it was nothing. I understand why. Even though I can be kind of distant, and I do recognize this in myself, please know that I really do love you. You've been the realest brother I could ask for. I hope to give it all back one day, when I am in a better place. You deserve the best.
Dear B,
My darling, my love, my platonic soulmate- I am glad you've discovered yourself. I saw it in you for a long time, and perhaps you did too. I'd like to discuss that further in the future. Please talk to me more often. I know this year has been a rough transition and I may not understand until I go through that myself... but I still want to be there for you. You have helped me so much in making sense of my most abstract thoughts. It's because you understand in a way that no one else can. Spend more time with me. Let's make it together.
Dear Jade/Zac,
2013 and 14 were awful for you. You've been put through plenty that you're simply not ready for. Hang on to that hope that things will get better. Develop your passions. Work on improving your art this year. Do that with me. Let's bring some of that love of life I used to see in you back.
Tobias - Nip Nip,
You need to talk to me more, honestly. I used to dislike you but as I have spoken to you and given you a chance, I actually enjoy talking to you. Your worldview is so removed from mine. I think you have a lot more to say.
Tobias?/Miqael,
I may not know you personally, but you represent hope for the future to me. That it is possible to have a future as, in your words, "a sassy gay trans man". That it is possible to one day be happy and secure, to have a job, cats, an amazing partner to spend your time with, and even to continue pursuing your passion as an artist.
