Time to officially meet Coquille! As you can see, design evolved a bit once I actually had the time to think about it ;3c
Current name : Coquille
She/her
Birth name : [forgotten]
Age : [forgotten] (adult?)
Birthday : [forgotten]
Former human now soulless anomaly
Lives in the doodlesphere with Aubépine (my pink!Ink) because he feel slightly responsable about her situation, they're alright friends however
Mask was given and altered by Aube, there is no longer a face under it
She feels emotions by staining her mask's papers with Aube's paints, the paper drink the ink and send it to her mask
She's pretty aloof and don't mind much but can show a mischievious side (bully Aube)
Loves having control over her feelings (and will gleefully mix paints) and guessing what paints to use (Aube can be a lil' disturbed by it sometimes)
very flexible woman
after watching Aube encouraging peeps, she decided to do the same by encouraging anything someone declares they want to do (good or bad), it has mixed results
a thief when it's funny
her bracelets are from before and while she doesn't remember nor regrets, she can't bring herself to dump them
can't eat but can sleep (sleep like the dead, it's terrifying without a warning)
enjoys looking at details for a long while (hobby ? Staring. With what eyes ? Don't worry about it.)
not picture there but she often stains her fingers with the paints, it does come off pretty easily however
no magic but has a natural resistance to it, attacks only make 75% of the damage they should have done
He had written those words some time ago. How long exactly he couldn’t tell.
It felt like too long.
What was Berlingot doing?
Not that he needed to know… but… he wondered.
Was he focused on a good book? Was he sleeping? Or napping. He tried very hard to keep a better sense of time but he still didn’t have enough to work with to be sure… He didn’t want to outright ask what time it was to his pen pal… It would be weird without explaining so many things.
Orchid fiddled with his scarf.
He didn’t want to push the other away. Annnnd he certainly didn’t need to spill all his secrets to stay… friends?
He didn’t know everything about Berlingot either!
The monster flipped the pages until he reached the part towards the beginning that therefore wasn’t linked and looked at notes he took where there remained a few empty spaces around his old flower sketches and forgotten words.
A trick he found about recently! The original pages of his notebook continued to only belong to his own notebook, it was the perfect place for thoughts he didn’t want to share.
Just above sketches of small Lilies of the Valley (Convallaria majalis), laid his observations on Berlingot.
Berlingot is a guy that is alive (with insight, that train of thoughts seemed plenty silly now), a not quite monster skeleton (there was still a mystery to unearth here) that felt bonded by duty to a tree that bore magical apples.
Hm, it might have sounded far fetched for his past self but he did see some weird stuff already so, he might as well consider it the truth. For now.
He is a joyful but anxious kind of guy, far too eager to please to be someone socially popular. He had bad experiences in the past and still suffered backlash from it to this day (whatever happened wasn’t his business).
Orchid adjusted his scarf and idly mused if he had been alright after his little crisis. His brother surely comforted him, right?
He has approximately two subjects of conversation: books he’d read and whatever his brother has been doing recently (could he really judge? Nothing interesting happened here too so he might be the one with dull conversation subjects there…).
Berlingot has a strange obsession with pj parties and loses his way at close to any compliment. And he likes his puns when he gets them.
Orchid did like teasing the guy over his reactions and lack of understanding. Just a bit.
He is ambidextrous, probably never touched a phone and says he likes daisies.
Daisies were cute little flowers. Even if he probably answered without thinking about it, it wasn’t a bad choice. Very few plants were bad to him, anyway. One specific talking one popped in his head. That didn’t count.
The list continued on and on, going from questions about where he lived exactly and small remarks about how he shaped his dots (always a circle instead of an actual dot).
He wrote a lot since they started talking.
Orchid sighed. That was almost embarrassing the interest he had for the guy. The fact he was bored was a thing but…
He sat and looked around. He would certainly hate it if someone saw those notes. Thankfully, Berlingot was too far (how far he wondered) to stumble upon it.
A shiver ran along his spine as he once again gazed into the darkness. It better not be Kusudama, the last thing he wished for was for that guy to tease him. He did not even care about what was his deal anymore, he was just that annoying.
The unpleasant feeling did not go away and Orchid nervously shut his notebook and put it on the grass.
There was nothing here. He was alone.
But he could not let go of the feeling.
Someone was watching.
Him.
The monster spurred and glared at the vast nothingness, a hand solidly anchored to his circle of grass.
If it was Kusudama (that name was too long), he would have shown up then. He never purposely startled him so far.
…
There could be a first. He didn’t really know the nuisance well enough to say.
“IF THAT’S YOU PAPER FOOL, SHOW UP NOW,” he shouted in the void.
The void only stared back, silent. It was not Kusu.
He pressed fingers to his nose bridge. He hoped he was just paranoid.
Orchid made a show of setting back into a comfy position, book open in front of him. Still no answer from Berlingot, he noted.
And waited in baited silence.
For something to happen.
In this unending dark dimension that stretched and stretched and stretched beyond the save screen into the pure black of nothingness that was the void.
Nothing happened.
Nothing but a feeling that something was there.
That someone was watching. Was it Gaster…?
And regardless of where he looked or how fast he twisted his head and body in the direction, nothing showed up.
It was maddening.
And Orchid couldn’t help it.
He felt unsafe.
End of chapter 13! Go to chapter 14?
Aftertale belongs to loverofpiggies
Orchid and Kusudama belong to me
Orchid stood there, a few feet away from the grass circle, staring, glaring in a seemingly random direction, full of nothing but darkness.
His candy floss colored kitten slippers thumped against the vaguely solid ground.
He swore he heard something that way.
He kept staring for a while, his stillness only broken by this incessant stumping.
One could never be too cautious around here.
A noise in the save screen, that didn’t come from him or the faint but constant buzzing of the checkpoint, was very suspicious.
The monster wasn’t sure if he preferred it to be from Gaster deciding to visit the periphery or something else entirely.
His hands, tucked in his coat’s pockets, picked at the inner fabric in a nervous fidget.
Maybe he imagined that.
Maybe that sound solely came from his fragile mind, sleething its way out by a fissure that would never close fully.
Orchid took his hand out to readjust his scarf and sighed.
Getting poetic again, lonely guy?
Finally deeming an investigation was not worth trudging away from his only light, he simply sat and picked up his favorite activity.
That book.
Berlingot went to sleep already so he only read back old exchanges and counted the pages they completed so far.
A lot.
Between idle chit-chats and paper games, they had decorated many new pages of small moments of life.
Orchid smiled at that.
Berlingot had a lot of free time or was weirdly invested with talking with him.
He didn’t mind however and wouldn’t probe. It’d felt like breaching that invisible barrier they each put up tightly around some aspects of their identity.
It wasn’t like he wanted to talk about his life or situation, why would he demand that of Berlingot?
A flutter moved right in his mostly blind side. The right side of his face was damaged enough that he barely perceived the world from that eye.
He froze.
This time he was sure of it.
He did not imagine that sound.
Twirling around fast, two summoned blasters fired beams of raging fire towards the source of the noise.
“WH-”
Someone else was there.
Someone who barely dodged his blasts and was now floating, eyes wide, not so far from him.
It was a skeleton, with a similar build, clothed in a slightly pinkish white robe thing tied by a thin cord.
Its eye sockets were dark and empty, partly obscured by his hood. The dark pink inside of the fabric contrasted with the pearl white of his bones.
Maybe it was really a ghost this time, he couldn’t see any feet under those clothes.
The apparition whistled before addressing him.
“Well, that wasn’t far… You’re a bit twitchy there, buddy?”
They talked.
“Who and what are you?”
“Maybe we could,” slender fingers gently point to his still summoned blasters, “put away the big guns before we try the whole conversation thing, bucko?”
“Answer my question and I might bring the puppies home, stranger.”
“Ok, ok,” they put their hands open in from of them, “sorry for startling you, I’ll answer your questions, cowboy~”
The floating guy lied down up there and pointed finger guns at him. Confused by the unexpected endeavor, Orchid unsummoned his blasters.
He swore, now was not the time to seem vulnerable.
“Soooo, I’ll admit I’ve been called a fair share of names!”
Their hands fished out squared papers from two colorful bags, hanging from his belt.
“First,” the stranger started folding the paper with a surprising velocity, “my brother calls me Sans. I’m sure you know this name, other me.”
Winking, he put down the origami.
A candy-shaped one.
“How-”
“What, can’t believe there are other worlds than your small one, boo?”
The doppelganger folded a few similar paper constructs and put them in neat lines.
“I would have thought that with your… history?”, he lowered his voice, “not that I know much about it beside you got a copy in there and you out annnd the fact the bloodiest resets finally stopped… So don’t worry about that, candy-cheek!”
Orchid startled and almost rubbed his cheek where he knew the candy-mark shape rested.
10 small paper boxes had been produced again.
“Can you stop with the weird nicknaming and just come down and explain what’s up besides you?”
The other did a small looping and skillfully hid away in his sleeves his creations.
“No can do, pal. I’ll come down at the end of our conversation annnnd you didn’t give me a name for me to use? I wouldn’t assume you still go by “Sans”, do you? Oh and,” the floating guy produced a more complex paper construct made of all the origamis he folded earlier, “you can call me Kusudama! It’s better than my work name and I choose it myself!”
The chatterbox seemed like he could be going for hours but Orchid did not relax yet. There was something in those fast-paced words, in this wide smile and empty sockets that just enerved him. How did “Kusudama” enter the save screen and why?
“I do have another name but I ain't sure I trust you so what if you get down there and we discuss how you breached this place and what you are seeking exactly here?”
No use in beating around the bushes, he might as well get to the point.
“Well it all does have a thing to do with my job but frankly I feel like procrastinating some more and believe me Sans-”
“Orchid.”
The correction fuzed before he could stop it, he couldn’t bear this name in this foreign mouth anymore.
“-Orchid, be-leaf me when I say it is in your best interest, flower guy.”
He tssked at the joke, who was he to steal a pun he could have done.
“And what is your job, world’s worst spooky decoration?”
Kusudama giggled and twirled, putting his hands under his shin, the fabric spinning around him in an aquatic dance.
“I wish,” he sighed.
Something in the atmosphere soured. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Kusudama lowered himself a bit, standing almost to reach now.
“I said I had many names and a few are directly tied to my job, whomst I do not enjoy that much on a good day. But I guess someone has to do it.”
Orchid took a step bad, a hand raising in case he needed to summon something fast.
The other raised a hand as well, holding the colorful origami amalgamation. He threw it high.
His bags shook and a myriad of papers flew out, obscuring his vision suddenly.
Orchid tensed but waited.
A chuckle resonated in the empty place.
A glint of a blade grazed his shoulder and tore through his vest before he could react.
“Uhuh, not that fast.”
The view cleared and Kusudama reappeared, a pair of mismatched paper wings decorated his back. A tall scythe rested in his hands, the misshapen wood let place to the deadly blade where the weird origami thing sat.
“Maybe I played long enough. Hello, I’m a reaper, some call me death and I’m here for you, bye!”
Before the words even registered, the attacker lunged in his direction and it was only by reflex Orchid managed to summon his weapons to fight back.
The other was fast and bones, papers and blasts flew everywhere in a chaotic ordeal.
The monster dodged, more and more in extremis, each attack thrown his way, the blade swiping at him every time the death-bringer managed to close the distance.
A wave of bones made the aggressor tumble farther, tearing through the fragile wing. He didn’t have time to cheer as the hole closed itself using new furniture from the annoying bags and his enemy threw himself back into action.
This couldn’t continue for long.
He would tire.
He would give up.
Could he even die here, when he only had a half-life left, when this place kept him alive when he should have been dust for a long time already?
Another attack barreled down on him.
He side stepped it and grabbed hard on whatever he could touch.
His hand ensnared a wrist and the hardly thought maneuver sent them both flying in the same direction.
They stopped in an awkward heap of limbs.
Both fighters froze, unsure of what to do next.
After a while, they entangled themselves and stood there observing the other.
Kusudama’s eye sockets were blown wide for some reason and the previously determined to harm stranger stood there, limbs limp, as papers retreated and scythe unsummoned, leaving only the colorful ball he built earlier.
“What?”
Orchid didn’t let go of his sharpened bone stick as he shook in an unstable stance despite the sudden change of endeavor. This could be a scheme.
The reaper inspected his hands before tilting his head to the right.
“...why are you still alive…?”
While he couldn’t figure out what action should have killed him so surely the fact it didn’t produce such a confused face on “death” itself, he might as well answer what he knew.
“Beat me if I know. That place helped I guess.”
“...I’ll… I’ll come back later.”
With that, Kusudama disappeared soundlessly.
“YOU BETTER NOT COME BACK,” yelled the monster to nobody in particular, the sound echoing in the now empty space.
What a weird day.
End of chapter 9! Go to chapter 10?
Aftertale belongs to @/loverofpiggies
Reapertale belongs to @/renrink
Berlingot, Orchid and Kusudama belong to me
Berlingot woke up with an idea he couldn’t ignore.
He tried but it kept rolling around in his mind, making other thoughts muddy and sticky.
He had to try again!
The guardian was well aware how disastrous the last attempt had been… and the fact villagers wanted nothing to do with him usually…but.
He chatted with Orchid for a while, the other said “he had visit today” but stayed pretty cagey about what exactly happened. While the endeavor felt mildly frustrating, it was great the guy finally had some company he guessed.
It must have tire him however as he seemed even less verbose than usual, he should leave him time to rest for now.
Meaning it was the perfect day to make a new attempt!
His plan was all figured out and Marianne was bound to leave very soon. It will work this time!
Speaking of the devil…
“Ber’, you saw my other boot? I cannot find it…”
Berlingot rolled his eye lights and merely pointed up, where the long fur-lined shoe dangled from a branch.
His brother simply hummed, seemingly unsurprised by the predicament, before jumping to catch it and finished tidying up his outfit with swift and elegant movements.
If only the villagers knew how much mess there was behind his brother’s delicate appearance…
A few wrappers tumbled down from a pocket only half closed.
And how much candy.
The guardian sighed as the other started to walk away, before running right back to bonk him on the head.
“See you later, Berly!”
And then only, Marianne dashed out of view, humming and sing-singing on his way.
Hm, “Berly” and “Ber’”. A smile stretched on his face.
He heard worse nicknames than those.
The wind played with his pants ribbons for a few minutes more before Berlingot decided it was plan time.
And thus, he grabbed the supply bags and made lists of what to prepare for later. He won’t start to decorate before securing guests this time! Not that he wasn’t confident in the positive result of this plan!
…
Couldn’t hurt to have a fail-safe.
The deed was fast, he only had to modify some of his old lists to accommodate what he currently had access to. He, however, redesigned the invitations fully. They still bore his old name and he had better ideas now as well!
Cutting, taping, sticking, doodling, writing and all of that, with an upbeat tune of nonsense swimming between his thoughts.
How long since last time he played with his stationery tools? The result was rarely extraordinary but he always found enjoyment in this imperfect creation process.
Once that was out of the way, he rummaged once more in the big bag to find a small satchel to put the papers in. It was a very simple one, black with a white clasp. They never got around to decorate it more but it would do the job.
It was now time to go.
He carefully placed his shawl in the bag, guessing it would be impractical to keep while trudging around the town, and glanced at the tree once last time.
He won’t be gone for long.
In a last minute decision, he slipped his diary in the satchel and started walking toward his objective with dynamic strides.
The hill was not that big but he took his sweet time to walk down, dodging wild flowers and stopping at any unidentified noise. He clutched his bag against his chest once he reached the line of trees separating the hills from the outskirts of the village.
Thing he has not done since what seemed like forever.
The sun is high with only a few clouds to hide it briefly once in a while and it shined on the windows of the first houses. Those are usually empty, not many wishing to live that close to them, but they were used a few times for events or to keep…wounded people in the same place.
A flutter of fabric around a neck and a muffled cry of pain scratched the back of his mind.
Ignore it, it was an accident.
Berlingot carefully advanced between the walls turned greenish by plants climbing on it.
Hands prying, pulling on something he couldn’t let go of, wouldn’t.
Ignore it! He said it was fine.
Unbeknownst to him, he stopped at an old broken window, the glass still sharp despite the years passing.
Laughter turning to silence and a silent inquiry.
Ignore it, he didn’t want to…
The guardian ran his finger against the glass edges and peeked inside. An empty room, full of dust. He mentally traced the old furniture there was before. Not many but enough to feel cozy, a few seats, a makeshift table and some candles. Snacks and cards in a corner for longer nights.
The next moment he was inside without really remembering moving.
The dust lifted in small clouds with each of his steps and the creaks coming along seemed as loud as thunder.
His eyes fall on another dusty shard of glass. It felt dustier than the rest, with small stains of pale yellow glistening under a lone ray of sunshine.
A feeling builded up inside him, pushing sludge in his limbs and gravity slowly increased, trying to swallow him whole.
Cries of anger, clumsy steps in the grass, the painful darkness of the ground.
Nightmare ran out of the house, fingers dirty and thoughts tangled.
The sun is red for the night to come…
The sun was still up and bright, sky blue splotched by white clouds.
Nightmare takes a big inspiration, legs shaky of the run to come.
Berlingot exhaled, focusing on the feeling of his magic rushing out to swirl anew.
His hand took a hold of the wooden sash of the window and he squeezed it hard for a moment.
The guardian walked away towards the center of the village, silent. His pace, regular and stiff, kept him going forward until he reached the inhabited part, leaving behind the memory to rot behind.
This was not on today's schedule!
And thus, it was left behind…
The square was busy and brimming with life, children chasing after a dog, pie-sellers selling pies, the never-happy complaining and happy-go-lucky laughing back at them…
Nervous but determined, he approached a group of adults he deemed young enough, hands clutching on the invitations.
Gathering his courage, he announced his arrival by whistling a short note.
“Hey, hello, how are we doing on this fine day?”
The group of 5 turned their attention towards him, staring.
“If you’re interested, I’m trying to host a small event back at the tree tonight,” Berlingot continued, trying very hard to ignore the awkward silence.
One of them, a lean man with long tangled hair, took the paper he was holding out and briefly scanned it.
Hope went up in his chest, raw and hot. Maybe, it really was the day!
The group gathered around the thing, pointing and smiling, and Berlingot only realized what was happening exactly when the first harsh laugh tumbled out of the pack of hyenas.
“What are you, 5?” exclaimed a small mouse, fur covered in dirt and blue eyes piercing.
“Who the fuck even is Berlingot?” added a woman as wide as she was tall, meaning not very.
Before Berlingot got around to explaining this particular tid-bit (how did he forget most were still unaware of that?), the comments continued to flood in.
“If you think anyone would come to ya thin’ when a nightmare is the organizer, who’d wan’ to sleep next ta that?” threw a green hog, a malicious smile distorted his face into a cruel thing.
He barely registered the tears trailing down his cheeks before they were wetting his collar.
The last person of the group walked towards him, making him take a step back by reflex. They towered above him, keeping him in place by a steel gaze.
“Scram.”
And scramming he did, running until the laughter couldn’t reach him anymore, until he found a place privy of people who could jest about what felt important to him.
Then he slumped down in a lone alley, behind a bakery, with a trashcan and a damaged flower pot as neighbors.
Calming down didn’t take that long but a deep fatigue now clogged to his bones like a heavy blanket.
Another failure.
While he could have given it another try, the energy and will lost him… and his invitations scattered in his flee.
So he leaned back against the brick wall, sighing, and he did the only thing he could think of right now that could brighten his mood.
He got out his diary and his usual pen and started writing.
End of chapter 10! Go to chapter 11?
Dreamtale belongs to @/jokublog
Berlingot and Orchid belong to me
Marianne belongs to @yuriyuruandyuraart <3
When Berlingot had come back, Marianne had already been at the tree. When his brother had caught his shape climbing up the hill, he swore he had seen small panicked pinpricks of eyes growing larger and softer for a second. They hadn’t talked.
But this night they had slept huddled close, each other’s weight keeping them in place and cozy.
The next day, Marianne slept in, effectively trapping Berlingot into a half awkward position, arm stuck in the other’s hands and one leg squished under the other’s weight.
The decision was made fast, he will bear it for a while (but no longer).
His loose shirt was pulled towards his trapped limb and the fabric was stuck uncomfortably between his vertebrae, however, he didn’t even attempt getting it unstuck. He will change into his day clothes soon enough.
His time was quietly spent playing lazy tic-tac-toes with Orchid. He lost the count but he thought he might have the bigger winning strike by a small margin. It was relaxing to just focus on the O and Xs without thinking about what to say or digesting what someone else communicated.
Quiet.
Quiet.
« What are you doing ? »
He screamed and pushed his, suddenly even closer than before, brother away.
A laugh erupted in answer to his reaction, light and merry, despite the slight piece of sleep roughing its edges still.
Marianne sat down from where he was pushed, brushing lightly his pjs fabric, not looking at all upset by the rough demeanor.
“Hello to you too, Berlingot!”
“You just had to startle me like that, why can’t you wake up like a normal person?”
“I ain’t normal, I am extraordinary,” the other pointed out, wiggling his hands when he pronounced extraordinary.
“Well, if mister extraordinary would mind…”
And that was how their morning started this day.
After that, they ate a few berries and surprisingly, Marianne didn’t leave for the village even when the sun got high and bright. He just…stayed there and kept him company?
Or to be more precise, he was currently practicing walking on his hands for some reason. He wasn’t that bad either, five steps certainly weren’t nothing to sneeze about!
“Berlyyyyyyy, look at me, I got it this time!”, yelled the upside-down guardian.
He only hummed in answer but he still put aside the book he was reading to watch the action.
One step.
Was there a specific word for a step made with your hand?
Two steps.
He should go look into a dictionary later.
Three steps and a wobble.
Uhm would the other topple once again?
A break then a more solid fourth step.
Coming closer to the five steps record, weren’t they?
His brother was still in position not far from him when a shudder unexpectedly ran through his spine.
It was but his only warning before the other decided to run towards him like a madman, caution threw clean out of the window and the posture on the verge of collapsing if not for his momentum.
“WA- MARIAN-”
And what was easy to predict happened… The guardians ended in a chaotic pile of limbs right under the tree. Instead of laughing or just reacting to the event, they just stayed there for at least a whole minute.
Silently.
“You’re a numbskull,” he informed Marianne after a while.
This finally made a giggle fuze out of the daredevil.
“Maybe~”
They only slowly untangled another moment later.
Berlingot climbed a lower branch and helped his brother up.
“You’re not going down the hill today?”
“I’m not planning to, no.”
His brother hummed and looked around, unaware of how weirded out he was by his statement, or maybe he was and just pretended otherwise.
The wind made Marianne’s long outfit flutter and Berlingot reached up to ensure his shawl stayed secure around his shoulders. A flower fell down and he observed its slow path towards the ground, following invisible currents no one could take but it.
“Do you want to do something special?”
The pale blue and pink themed skeleton quirked his head in answer to his inquiry before looking forwards again. Mulling over his options?
He watched him hopped down and rummage through their bag until he pulled out his bow and arrows.
“We could go down to the field and shoot some arrows?”
When was the last time they did something like that?
“Sure.”
The “field” was a small clearing on the opposite side of the village. It was slightly hidden by the shades of a few trees but if you peeked at the right spot, you could still see the tree of feelings, making it a decent place to spend time without getting anxious over the fact it was left unguarded. It did not stop him for throwing it a last anxious glance before continuing.
They had made up targets with sticks and braided grass and had littered them all over the place. A few were in pieces but some looked newer.
Did Marianne come alone there recently?
“I’m starting!”
Marianne picked up his bow and an arrow (they had like 3 of them), making the candy cane shaped stick (believe him, you never saw weirder arrows than theirs but it worked alright) twirled under his fingers before notching it to the magical string he had summoned.
“Bet you can’t reach apple head n°3 from here,” he challenged him.
“Apple head n°3” was a failed attempt at putting a target on a branch, a strong wind had made the tangle of string and leaves fly up to the very top of a pine tree. It was named apple head, because one time while they were doodling on used paper, the wind somehow had decided to do it a second time.
An apple drawing had gone right to tangle with the already tangled mess.
Yes, it has happened three times already.
Marianne did not respond to the dare verbally. However, what he did was get into position and release his arrow.
It flew in a harmonious curve until it embedded itself right into Apple Head n°3.
He threw him the bow, his expression screaming smugness.
“Your turn, try to get the pumpkin target!”
Berlingot fiddled with the bow, grabbing the yellow monstrosity with his two hands.
“Why must you always ask for candy cane themed stuff…”, he lamented, voice hopefully too low to get picked up by his brother.
The painted wood had a warmth to it and he adjusted his grip before pushing his own energy into the weapon. A lilac string crackled into existence, rendering the thing a mismatching mess of colors.
Sighing, he drew the arrow and looked at his target in the middle of the field. A pumpkin that had started to rot, just slightly.
He released the arrow and watched it fly straight to its target…
…only to miss it by a far margin. Uh.
Marianne bellowed at the failure as he tried to argue that he was just out of practice! That if he came in secret to train like him, he would, for sure, have a better level!!!
But nothing seemed to convince Marianne so he just threw the bow on the ground and crossed his arms.
“You can train alone if you’re soooo much better than me!”
The other huffed before finally calming down from his fit.
“Don’t take it that way, come on, I’ll show you how to use it better! Your stance only needs some work, I promise.”
Berlingot made a whow of thinking about it and bowed, his torso reaching a near horizontal angle before he lifted his head to stare straight at his brother.
“If you would do me the honor, professor, I am but under your care !” he sang-sung, tone dripping with malevolence.
He got a tap on the head for it but they quickly settled and Marianne started to pull at his arms and kick at his feet under the pretense of “helping him”. He only slouched more at the “tips” and made sure to squish at least a few toes under the guise of clumsiness.
Despite everything, he couldn’t deny he had a fun day.
He wouldn’t mind if those happened more often.
End of chapter 12! Go to chapter 13?
Dreamtale belongs to @/jokublog
Marianne belongs to @yuriyuruandyuraart
Berlingot belongs to me
Berlingot giggled, closing his diary and putting it aside. That game of "guess-the-word" was truly entertaining ! How could he have guessed "to cornobble" was a true verb that existed ?
He couldn’t wait to try out some other games next time, he had soooo many ideas !
Tick-tack-toe, the hangman, riddles, four in a row, exquisite corpse (what an awful name for such a cool game) or apple tree and nim… He could continue for long, who said you had to have more than a pen and a paper to play games? And if they grew bored of those, he was sure they could create variants or entirely new games!
He had gotten used to conversing with Orchid at any hour of the day (and sometimes night) and he couldn’t help but feel like he had found there an incredible treasure he wasn’t really worthy of.
Orchid was nice.
Obviously, there were some downsides to having a pen pal that couldn’t physically come here.
They couldn’t play cards or do pillow fights or any of the pajama party stuff he always dreamt off.
But Orchid was there when he was alone.
The other seemed to refuse to talk too much about himself but he was there and they could talk and joke. It made him forget the loneliness and bad days grew apart and a few.
He felt guilty he couldn’t offer much in return.
Orchid was so against opening up, even a bit, he had no idea what the other might need or enjoy.
He had disappeared for days recently, not answering anything he thought of scribbling. Not even to that question about red leaves’s photosynthesis.
The guardian had panicked for a second, the unusual silence shooking him to the core. The first day, he had thrown excuses at his mind, trying to ease his anxiety. The second, he had blamed himself, somehow convincing himself he must have pushed a boundary or misspoke, or talked too much or…something.
The rest of it, he had walked through it at a snail pace, grieving a relationship he didn’t notice he had grown fond of.
Then, the words came back and Orchid with it, bearing an apology but no explanation (other than yes, red leaves could still harness the power of the sun, green wasn’t the only pigment to do that).
He still felt uneasy about the event but hadn’t pushed, going back to talk and play easily enough.
Thinking once again to the furious game he just left, Berlingot smiled before shifting his position in anticipation of an imminent sleep.
It was a quiet and heavy rest, he did not dream nor even touched the dreamscape. It ended far too soon.
Something woke him up, a feeling, it was watching him, staring.
Night- Berlingot (come on, he shouldn’t get it wrong, he chose that name) looked around sluggishly, absent-mindely noting the way the sun had barely peaked yet. It was still very early.
An unease forced his senses to turn on faster and the guardian searched for the source.
He didn’t find it until he looked up to the branch right above him where Marianne had fallen asleep last night.
He was still there, eyes shut in a weird strong way.
"Marianne, I know you’re awake, why were you staring at me?"
A loud « snore » answered him as his brother shifted to face the other way.
"Come on ! We don’t even snore !"
"Maybe you don’t but I do. I snore loud as thunder and enough to wake up the dead, I am currently sleep-talking. Obviously."
Amused at the other’s antics, Berlingot snickered and declared in a taunting voice :
"I guess if you’re sleeping, you won’t be able to stop me from snooping in your candy reserve and licking aaall the sugar canes I can find, maybe even the big one with the-"
A weight crashing-onto-him-with-the-delicatess-of-a-drunk-elephant stopped his discourse mid-way.
"YOU WOULDN’T," shouted Marianne from his place, haphazardly lying on him, "YOU KNOW I’M SAVING THIS ONE FOR A SPECIAL OCCASION !"
"Look at who’s wide-asleep now ?"
His voice barely reached the air, softened by layers of fabric right over his face.
Marianne froze, silent, for a whole minute (maybe more like 10 seconds but time felt longer with a brother on the face) before moving aside and grumbling.
"You were not obligated to go to threats right away..."
And in a smaller voice :
"You won’t touch it, will you ?"
Berlingot smirked and tutted.
“I’m not sure yet~"
Marianne whined and looked at him with the wettest puppy eyes he could.
“Maybe if you tell me why you’ve been staring…?”
The other opened his mouth, started to make a hand movement before utterly freezing before any sound came out. He quickly sat back more properly, playing with the wrinkles his outfit gained during the night, eyes staring hard on the ground.
“...I wasn’t staring?”
Berlingot tilted his head as innocently as he could.
“Why does this sound like a question.”
“Why doesn’t your question sound like one?”
“Hey there smarty-pants,” Berlingot let a confused silence escape for a few seconds at a sudden realization. "What are you even wearing?”
His brother didn’t waste the opportunity to latch on another subject and stood up and twirled, showing off a kind of half blouse, half pajamas kind of thing, with frilly decorations on the sleeves and a mess of fabric reaching his knees. It was pale yellow and blue with touches of pink in random places. It was… hard to describe…
“Well, do you remember Matina? The not-a-tailor-but-black-belted-in-sewing mongoose? I brought her back her lost cat and she offered to sew me a thing with her newly-bought machine and of course I didn’t mention her cat only got out because I left her window open after checking that pie I was not allowed to touch so she did me that! Behold my new pjs!”
Another twirl made some pans of fabric lift and revealed 6 dark ribbons hidden along the back of… a part?
“You know you can refuse gifts you don’t like, Mar’?”
“You’re awfully rude, I drew the design myself.”
Ah, that was why it was like that. His brother was an awful drawer despite the energy he could pour in each strike. Maybe, it did not help either…
They bantered for a while until the sun rose higher and they each took a time to dress up (begone evil pjs) and eat the rest of a bread loaf they kept from a former meal.
Then Marianne sat back next to him and they stayed there for a while.
Usually he liked those moments where they just stopped for a minute.
They’d sit where all they could see was sky and trees and all they could hear were the birds’ song and the insects’ buzzing lullaby. The wind would make the surroundings dance and live and they would feel closer than ever, without a word uttered.
But this time, it felt itchy. Eyes kept sliding up and down, rounding and tumbling all over him and something else.
He couldn’t focus on anything else.
“WHAT!”, he angrily sputted in the other’s direction.
Probably thinking he was discreet, Marianne jumped and remained silent shocked for a moment.
"You can’t continue that, tell me your thoughts or I’ll truly lick that thing," he idly gestured toward where he knew his brother’s secret stash was.
"Now you’re just being mean."
“Quit it, you’re the one who’s acting strange.”
A sigh passed between them and the voice of the other reached a higher tone as he uttered what may qualify for some answers.
“I… was just thinking about the… gift I gave you? The notebook.”
Berlingot straightened slightly.
“I saw you scribble in it and I wondered what you decided to write in it in the end? Is it a story?”, his gloved hand pointed right to the carefully tucked away diary.
That hand seemed inquisitive, curious and hesitant or, at least, it was what he thought he could read through the gesture.
“No it is not a story, not really.”
“Oh, and may I ask what you’re writing then?” Marianne scooted closer, “Is it a secret?”
Should he tell him?
Now?
The guardian looked into those soft eyes and pondered.
He opened his mouth, experimentally thinking about the right sound association to explain this particular situation.
I am talking to a pen pal through my book.
Would he want to talk to Orchid? Would they get along?
I am talking to a pen pal through my book.
What if they didn’t ?
I am talking to a pen pal through my book.
The words didn’t reach the outside.
I am talking to a pen pal through my book!
His mouth was open but nothing tumbled out, he closed and opened it again. Nothing.
The chewed up phonemes seemed to have twirled so hard in his mind they just tangled up and were now far too big to get out.
Too big.
“Yes, it’s a secret.”
Two pink candies floating in icy lakes silently looked away.
He’ll tell him later.
End of chapter 8! Go to chapter 9?
Dreamtale belongs to @/jokublog
Berlingot and Orchid belong to me
Marianne belongs to @yuriyuruandyuraart ❤️
It took him a while to decide, but Berlingot was now sure of it. He was going to introduce Orchid to Marianne. His brother was bound to get curious enough to end up looking in his diary without asking first, anyways. And it would make everything so much harder…
So he was going to calmly explain it and stage a metaphorical… playdate? between the two.
Now, if only Mar could come back faster. He had been gone for what felt like eternity. Berlingot stood up and started to walk circles around the tree.
Had he been gone longer than usual or was it just that waiting to tell him something made the time feel sluggier?
He pondered about it for a moment, trying to gauge the hour by the shadow of the tree. It didn’t seem to be that late yet… But his brother had left long before he awoke! It might still have been longer than usual !!!
His pace increased.
He continued the endeavor until he got sufficiently annoyed by various plants snagging into his pants’ fluff.
Still not here?
He turned his head to squint properly at what he could see of the town, focusing on catching traces of a pastel blob on the outskirts of it.
It did not take as long as he thought it would and soon he was following the movements of his brother. It looked like he was walking back towards the hill.
Berlingot sighed, his jittery movements slowing down to a near stop before picking back up the pace.
He was going to tell him!
Annnnd… Worrying about it robbed him of a proper time to practice his speech… Oh well.
Marianne was now climbing the hill in big strides, the back of his outfit flapping with each powerful step.
Something felt weird about this pace.
Why did it seem so straight and purposeful? There wasn’t a hint of the weightlessness Marianne liked to incorporate in his steps on a normal day?
The guardian unconsciously took a step back, slowly putting himself behind the tree.
His brother didn’t look tired either and it was too early for him to be exhausted…
Something was up. But what?
Slightly gripping the bark, he continued to observe his now rapidly approaching brother. Now that he was closer, he noticed a bunched up paper in one of his hands. His fist was tightly curled around it and he couldn’t see what it was.
Marianne stopped right in front of him and Berlingot finally placed a word on what was wrong.
His brother was absolutely fuming.
And given his hard gaze was stuck on him, it wasn’t hard to guess against whom his anger was directed…
“Berlingot…”
A shiver ran along his spine and he weakly waved from his half hidden spot.
What did he do? He wanted to ask but Marianne’s hardened gaze kept him in place.
The other uncurled his hand and shoved the paper it had been holding right against his chest.
“Tell me, what’s that?”
He wasn’t shouting but he idly thought he’d prefer if he was, indeed, shouting. He looked like his many layers of clothes were the only thing keeping the wicked storm inside.
Berlingot looked at the paper. It was the flyer he made for his failed slumber party.
His eyes must have betrayed his recognition as Marianne’s eyes hardened and he sighed, putting his fingers on his nose bridge.
“I found it in the street near the main place, what were you doing there?”
He was slightly lost at the anger, why was it such a big deal?
“I… wanted to do a slumber party? Like when we were small and…”
“THOSE TIMES ARE IN THE PAST, NIGHTMARE.”
The negative guardian froze, any words died in his mouth as the past actually slapped him right into the face. His eye lights fuzzed slightly.
“You could… You could have gotten hurt… Or or somebody else could have… You know why you shouldn’t be down there.”
It must be a bad dream? His brother (jailor) couldn’t be suggesting he was dangerous and he had to stay up there forever. Alone.
The shock made it difficult to even try to piece out an answer so he just stayed there as his brother (stranger) stared at him.
“Stay here, please. I’ll come back more often ? Bring you more books?”
Marianne (Dream) grabbed his arms gently (it burned).
“Can you do that for me, Night- oh sorry, Berlingot?”
Why did that name suddenly sound wrong in that mouth? He shook and still didn’t utter a word.
Was he wrong to want to start anew? To think that that accident (his fault) didn’t have to define him anymore.
His eyes fell on the notebook, lying on the ground now. Orchid was wrong, he had messed up too badly.
He was going to have to live all his life isolated, caged, chained to the tree that helped birth him. Berlingot stumbled backwards, a hand finding the bark behind him.
He was always going to be but a mere branch of it, a barely tolerated gnarly thing everybody was afraid off but couldn’t cut out of fear it might topple the rest with its weight gone. The tips of his fingers, sharp, scratched the wood and the world blurred even more. He couldn’t be like his brother, regardless of how colorful he dressed or how sweet he called himself. He was Nightmare and the world would be better without him.
He didn’t want to stay caged however. Each day spent sitting there made fire cursing through his limbs, made mud flow through his mind. The book let him taste a piece of freedom. A piece of somewhere else, someone else.
It wasn’t enough.
When the blur left, he was sitting against a tree.
But it wasn’t theirs.
He was deep in the woods, curled up in the shadows. Alone.
Fat tears had drenched his collar and continued to do so as he wept pathetically. His hands flew to try to grab around, in search of something, anything, but the ground only offered him grass and sticks and he wept harder.
Something bumped gently onto his head and he looked up to see his diary obscuring the sky.
“Were you looking for that?” The unmistakable voice of his twin sent fresh jolts of pain and fear in his body.
Marianne flopped next to him, close but not touching.
“I’ve talked to your friend.”
Anxiety pushed… the skeleton… to flip through the pages until the last used one, a few pages had been torn away.
“I removed our conversation, I don’t think you would have wanted to keep it.”
“Stop assuming things about me,” he mumbled.
“Uh?”
“Nothing…”
“Sorry for looking into your notebook. I tripped on it while trying to catch you and I saw the ink appearing.”
He brought his knees together and hid his face. It didn’t matter anyways.
“Orchid is nice. I’m happy you got a friend.”
Now he was okay with him interacting with someone else? Ah, must be because he couldn’t touch Orchid.
“...I think I remember why you chose ‘Berlingot’ as a new name.”
He uncurled slightly, glancing with half-lidded eyes at his brother who seemed lost in thoughts. Did he really remember?
“That was that one time I said if you were a candy you would be a berlingot, wasn’t it?”
Now that was embarrassing to hear but yeah. He told him it was made of warm sugar with a little flavor on top of it and he truly couldn’t remember the whole spiel of why it was fitting him but it had been nice.
“I told you there was a simple warmth in you that was comforting and familiar. I can’t really remember the rest. I didn’t really remember it until now.”
It had been long ago. They had been kids.
“You preferred fruits to candies as a child so I was surprised you took one as your name.”
He had been eating more candies recently. Some were still a bit strong for him but it didn’t stop him from enjoying it.
“You have changed a lot since then.”
He hadn’t. He was still stuck in the past. He would never advance.
“Hey,” a hand came to close and he inched away, “I am sorry for earlier, can we talk?”
He wanted to say no, to deny any olive branch and continue sulking until the end of time itself, but, when did he have any right to choose for himself?
So he looked at Marianne and startled. His brother’s cheeks were wet and his eyes were scrunched in a painful yet crazed expression. None of it had filtered through his calm and sweet usual tone.
“What would we need to talk about…?” his voice wobbled, rough and tight, “it’s not like you said anything untrue…”
Marianne’s eyes opened wide and his arms grabbed his shoulders with a firm grip.
“NONE OF WHAT I SAID IS TRUE,” he looked frantic, “I was scared and a little mad and I may be still a bit scared but it wasn’t right of me to say those things.”
He didn’t know how to react to that. He had the distinct feeling that those ‘wrong things’ might have been said while he zoned out earlier. However, saying so might not really help him here.
“I’m just scared… Terrified, even, of what could happen to you if another accident happened. I didn’t mean to keep you away like that…”
Now, he was dreaming again. He was scared for him? Not of him? His eyes unconsciously rested upon the other’s neck where he knew the fabric hid an ugly scar spanning across it.
He let himself flop forwards right into Marianne’s arms, resisting the urge to distance himself from his neck.
“We can go through it together, alright? I will… I will work on my fear and we can make a plan together! I know a few people that should be nice enough to present to you.”
Really? Was it possible? He wanted to ask aloud but his voice didn’t want to work so he just nuzzled softly against the soft fabric of his brother’s shirt.
“It wasn’t your fault Berlingot, it never was.”
They had a lot to talk about, and talk about was what they did on the way back to the tree. On the way back home.
…Maybe Berlingot could let himself hope again. One last time.
End of chapter 14! Go to chapter 15?
og dreamtale belongs to jokublog
Marianne belongs to @yuriyuruandyuraart
Berlingot is mine
