#spectator entry

[leonartona]

Here’s a poster for the Spectator Entry of AATRV!

Duck Da Vanci and his character Gale Wings Vanci were included in it.

More info about AATRV can be found here!

[aanzhen]

Quick messy environment practice/studies.

[tau-oct]

Alcor walked towards the pillar, which had been firmly fixed into the center of the rough stone floor of the cavern. Amelie and Quinn watched on in gruesome fascination, wondering again what they had paid in order to win a time wish. Thoughts of destruction, of demon fire burning through towns and fields and tearing people apart, of what California had become, these thoughts raced through the pair’s minds.

Amelie looked to the shorter contestant, and when they looked up back at her, she knew that Quinn had just as much fear as she did. They clasped their hands together, mimicking their final stand at the starfield.

As Alcor reached towards whatever prize awaited him on the pedestal, Amelie squeezed Quinn’s hand in a reassuring gesture. She had wished to be able to save people, and if the situation turned sour, Amelie wanted to be prepared to save the first person she could.With fear in their hearts, they both watched as Alcor turned around.

“Well how do I look?”

[tau-oct]

Passing Time

“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.”

[tau-oct]

Scars

Thalia let out a low whistle.

“Nasty place.” Someone behind her muttered, and she couldn’t help but agree. While the thick tree trunks looked as inviting as any forest could, there was a deadly magic in the air even she could sense. Pine needles and bookshelves alike loomed over their small group of, for lack of a better term, sore losers.

She winced, watching as Tomm and the eldest competitor – “Hilja.” Alcor reminded her, and she nodded without fear – entered the maze. The place truly did feel like a dream now, but the pain of her ‘death’ still echoed through her. I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry was the only thing the kid could say as she sat there and lost all the feeling in her body save for the terrible pain of the – what was it, ice? “Technically poison, but that feeling is a strong side-effect.” Another comment came.

Thalia sighed through her nose. Maybe… ugh, maybe she had been wrong about the demon. Obviously, she’s not really dead, and he hasn’t eaten her soul or revealed any plans to, not to mention all the helpful little explanations, visions of competitors (god, that’s why Tomm agreed to this? That’s horrible!), and muttered one-liners she keeps hearing from his direction (most including the name ‘Henry’ or 'Stan’ followed by chuckling). She may have had her fair share of trouble during and after high school, but even Thalia knows good from bad given enough time, and despite rumors, Alcor the Dreambender (while threatening) wasn’t very bad.

“Don’t go spreading that around. I have a reputation, you know.”

He wasn’t what she expected. He wasn’t like William, thank the gods.

William.

“He’s part of why I recruited you.”

“… I can see why. It’s not as if anything else in my life was very interesting.” William had been the biggest threat she had ever faced – but then, Alcor probably already knew that. “How much do you know, anyway?”

“Only what you remember.” Mind-reading then. Is that included in 'omnipotence’ or considered a separate power?

Another sigh came as she followed behind her killer. Tomm paused to wipe at his cheeks again, already red with grief and exertion, keeping the white crystal clutched in almost equally white knuckles and as far away from his body as possible. Thalia fiddled with her shirt, crumpling it in sympathy. Thirteen, and he already 'murdered’ someone.

What a day.

At least his first kill wasn’t real. She didn’t have such a luxury back when she did the same. A spark of an all-encompassing cocktail of anger and grief, a wave of a hand, and that was it – no second chances, no knowledge that the other person (she hadn’t even bothered to learn their name) would be alright in the end.

(The feeling of ice on her fingertips, blood suspended in the air by her own power as she speared them again and again, knee deep in a slowly reddening creek and Leah’s unconscious body being guarded by a circle of dying yellow flames, the very air she breathed cutting her clothes and whipping her hair but every breech in her mortal casing only gave her more ammunition -)

(When you let that amount of bloodlust spread in your soul, it never really leaves.)

(It got easier after that, though.)

She really hopes Tomm doesn’t make the same mistakes she made. The magical underground is definitely not for the faint of heart, and he’s still a few years younger than she was.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have come here. Stupid competition, making me sad.”

I Can’t THAT pUta Bithc hlep paleelse plEAase stoPSPSOT PIANI don ‘t want t obe Odeadd I”ms orry I ‘m sorry THis IcAN” t Feel whERe Are My hanSD leaVE ME ALnoe STOP i DOn’T waNT To LIve AgagiN

—

compose yourself you creep. you’re not actually dead. it’s the demons fault.

—

Mizar made me fork hands. This a sentence I never thought I’d say, never really wanted to say, and yet it is happening to me right now.

And the sad thing is, my fork hands really aren’t much of a downgrade. Sure, I’m missing an opposable thumb-claw-thingy now, but do you know how useless claw hands are? It took me all of my 11 school years to figure out how to hold a pencil, and don’t even get me started on smart phones. I mean, I’m still super pissed at Amelie for letting me lose appendages, but I’m a little bit more concerned about how apathetic I am towards it.

Waving them about for a moment to test air resistance, I ask the shifting spirit beside me, “So you’re dead?”

“For now!” Mizar says. Their form keeps shifting from male, female, other, all different shades of skin, it’s hard to focus on any specific shapes besides the sweater they’re wearing. “But don’t worry,” it says. “You’re not. At least, not yet.” It laughs. Haha, very funny, reminding me of my paralyzing fear of death. Prick.

Okay, maybe shouldn’t think that about Alcor’s, what, lover? Sister? Brother? Whatever. At this point, I don’t even know. They’re near and dear to our lovely demon.

Well, enough about my lack of tact. Now it’s time to focus on my innumerable complaints! First of all, why am I still in this maze? All I want is to get out of the stupid place and bug Amelie and possibly mutilate her face because she left me to die and is an awful human being that doesn’t understand anything because sHe’s stUpID- CALM DOWN

Second, why don’t I have my hands back? I did just give a small rant about why it doesn’t really matter, but it kind of does. I can’t pick things up now, even if I don’t really have anything to pick up in this hellhole portion of the mindscape.

Third, the whispers haven’t disappeared, and they’re seriously affecting my self-esteem. This is impressive considering the amount I hate myself.

“You okay, Ellie?” Mizar’s voice came, still an androgynous mix of all their beings.

I look over, putting on the most pathetic expression I can, and say, “Can I leave? This place is getting on my nerves.”

Frowning, Mizar responds, “Don’t you want to stay and watch? I mean, don’t you want to see any of your friends win?”

“I do not have friends, I have acquaintances with whom I pretend to be friendly. And anyway, it’s the maze that’s creeping me out, not the whole being dead thing.” I really need to stop lying.

Mizar floats over to me and pouts, resting their head on one hand, “Well, that’s no way to live. Friendship is important. Say, I’ll get my husband, sort of, to guide you out, if you can make one friend.”

“Isn’t your husband the ax murderer?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Not really contemplating it, I say, “Here’s fine.”

At that instant, a very unfortunately familiar face turns a corner. Though he’s clearly not looking at me, I can still recognize his features very well. Stupid body tattoos (I mean, are those fake? I can’t tell) are hard to miss, and I realize that Harry the gosh diddly darn Fishman is wandering the maze.

“Here is now less fine. I’m gonna go,” I trail off, already stepping back.

“Alright! Talk to you later, Mister Bird!”

—

I am lost. I am so very lost. Maybe I should’ve stayed, stabbed Darren a few more times for good measure. At least then I wouldn’t be wandering this hellhole looking for intelligent companionship.

(And I’m not going to think about how the fact that Mr. Whiskers is still in dead-me’s pocket.)

At least this part of the maze is friendlier looking. It’s got bookcases instead of creeping walls, and there doesn’t seem to be a person in sight. This is always a plus, though admittedly detrimental to my important goal of making a “friend” and getting out of here. The bookcases are tall, and these corridors are wide enough for me to fly around in. That alone is enough to make me smile.

Oddly content to be in this portion of the maze, I start browsing book titles. I pass a couple dozen copies of Sewing with Dragons: A Helpful (and Fireproof!) Guide, and though I do enjoy sewing, dragons are not exactly the best companions, so I leave the books be. I use my wings (and it feels so nice to be able to) to soar up towards the highest shelf, hovering in front of one of my favorite series, 503 Ways to Catapult Across a River, which, ironically, is about four different people, all of whom fail to do so even once.

Giddy, I go to grab a book when I am suddenly faced with two problems: one, I have fork hands and no grabbing skills, only stabbing skills, and two, I am incapable of touching objects. Being a ghost in everything except actual deadness, physical objects are out of my reach right now. I really should have remembered that before getting my hopes up.

I’m still mad though.

I let myself plummet the the ground, barely catching myself before impact. I start trying to kick the fallen books around, and I am reminded of my frustration every time my foot goes through one. My leg still hurts, but it’s not as disappointing as literally everything else today. I’m even disappointed in how awesome my hair looks, today has been that bad.

And it appears that the world is actively conspiring against me, as my day only gets worse! Two steps into my anger march, and I trip over a dwarf. Okay, not a dwarf, but this girl is really short - like, “I’m under five feet and still under 150 lbs when soaking wet” short, and she doesn’t look like she has a weapon. Well, time to make friends!

Thalia nearly screamed when the man crashed into her. As it was, she did let out an embarrassingly inhuman squeak.

“Whoa,” He rubbed at his ear with a fork that really should hand been a hand, wings flapping. A feathery tip smacked her cheek with about as much force as a limp spaghetti noodle, but it was still just a bit terrifying considering she had spent the last twenty minutes or so waving appendages through bookshelves. “Easy, blondie, I’ve already died once this round!”

“Fucking what?” She really needed to stop cursing. Bad habits.

“What do you mean, what? Wait…” He blinks. “Oh yeah, you’re one of the ones that lost first round. How death treating you, blondie?”

Blondie? This guy… “Just fine, thank you.” Thalia sniffed, turning around another corner made from the pillar-like bookshelves. Despite having the option of being literally anywhere else, the other guy decided to follow close by her side.

“Whoa, what is that?” She winced, injured arm twisting for cover before he could look any closer. “Violent death! What did you do to deserve that kinda mark?” He squints at her. “Tell me that’s not the one that killed you.”

“How is it any of your business? I don’t even know your name!”

“Name’s Elpenor!”

“Don’t care.”

“Strange, I don’t remember you being this rude.”

“I don’t remember us ever talking at all. Why are you following me?”

Elpenor shrugged. “Everyone else is boring and horribly whiny. The guy I stabbed first round won’t stop running around being creepy. The Dreambender won’t talk to me. I’m bored.”

“I really don’t see how that’s supposed to be my problem.”

“I really don’t see how you can get out of it. So! We’re wandering around the creepy murder maze-library-thing… why?”

“Nuh-uh, there is no 'we’, and I do not wander, I stroll.”

“Is that what the young people call it these days?”

“Listen buster, I was doing just fine looking around on my own and reminiscing about sad, boring things without you. If you’d let me get back to it, I’d be very grateful.”

Elpenor blinks, whispers ’buster?’, and continues by her side. “Sad? No offense blondie – or maybe some offense, it depends – but ah, you don’t look like the kind of person that has a tragic backstory. Matter of fact, you look like a kindergarten teacher.”

“I sort of am.”

“Not to mention- wait, are you serious?” He puts a fork hand over where Thalia assumes is his heart and does his best to look affronted. The resulting image is equal parts horrifying and hilarious. “Goodness, what are the youth these days getting up to?”

“I’m thirty one.”

“You look fifteen.”

“Suck a dick.”

“You act fifteen, too.”

“Can’t you go bother literally anyone else?”

“Nope!”

I’ve decided I like her. She’s thoroughly fed up with me, which adds to my enjoyment of this predicament, of course. But even if I weren’t delighted by annoying her, there’s something about this halfling that makes me smile. Thalia (I’m going to need to come up with a better name for her than that) is surprisingly humorous when the situation calls for it, which, coincidentally, is one of my best traits, if I do say so myself. We might be kindred spirits.

Except that she is comfortable with silence, and I am not. As she wanders through the twisting shelves I keep trying to make conversation, usually beginning with, “Did you know that-” and ending with a sharp look from her. When I don’t stop, it’s a threatening bat gesture. Luckily for me, I developed sharp reflexes when I lived with, um…

Nevermind.

“So,” I say as I begin flying over her head to avoid her bat, “what are you doing here?” My shadow falls on her, and she quickens her pace to get out of it. Naturally, I increase my flight speed for maximum annoyance.

“Checking up on someone,” Thalia says. “Not that it’s any of your business, birdbrain.”

Ignoring her incredibly hurtful yet accurate comment, I pester her some more, “Yes, but you are my business. I require one friendship, and then I’ll be on my way.” Letting myself drop from above her, my feet touch down in front of hers, and her look of shock makes me laugh.

“Why are you laugh- you know what I’m not going to bother,” she pushes past me, knocking me out of the way with her bat. “Friendship isn’t given, it’s earned, Elpenor.”

“Ew, my name’s so long. Why not Ellie, or E. Friends use nicknames, right?” I throw one arm around her shoulder and latch on for as long as I can, falling dramatically to the floor as she ducks under my arm and throws me off balance. “You wound me, Miss Thalia!”

“I’m pretty sure you already got wounded,” she says as she gestures to my hands. Well, forks. Thanks a lot Amaylay.

“Eh, I’m fine. Just need a couple band-aids and maybe a juice box. You run a nursery right?”

“Actually it’s a-”

“Juice boxes are great, that’s all I’m saying. So is, incidentally, Columbian Kosher recipes.”

“Alright, that’s a little bit out there, but I’ll accept it.” Yes, accept my weirdness. Develop a fondness, and become my friend so I can get out of HEre wit h The MAN Who Oh WHERE ARE MY HANDS I’M NOT A GHOST I DON’t WANt to die I’m NOT EveEN tWEnTy PLEASE DON’T Let HeR bE RIGHT

Before Thalia can see me panic, I clink my forks together twice in a clapping motion and smile, saying, “Yes, accept my casual friendship.” I go to preen my feathers, but then remember my hands again. Seriously, I think I’m gonna kill Amelie.

Thalia rolls her eyes at my statement, “If you say friendship one more time I’m hitting you with this bat.” Rolling her wrist in a showy manner of presenting said bat, she laughed a little.

“Calm down there, Bat Attack,” I say, putting my forks up in a mock defensive manner before grinning at my genius. “Bat Attack. Yep, that’s you now.”

Thalia’s smile drops, and confusion blossoms on her face, “What?”

“It’s only fair. There was Harry the Fishman, then Amaylay, and now you’re next. Bat Attack.” Admittedly, my train of thought may be a bit difficult to follow at times, but it should be pretty clear here that she has just lost her real name to the wonders of Elpenor’s nicknaming abilities.

“I’m assuming those are cartoon characters.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.”

And then a voice rang out loud and clear, a warbling voice that sounded a little bit hoarse from years of use and possibly quite a bit of shouting, “Noooo where are you going? Let’s follow it!”

A one eyed cat runs through, followed by two familiar faces.

“Tomm!” Thalia shouts.

“Demon grandma!” I shout.

We stare awkwardly as the two competitors make their ways towards our ghostly forms.

“That grandma is scary,” I try to justify my outburst. Thalia doesn’t seem to understand, focussing on the pair, so I continue, “You see, she’s a grandma? But she’s here? How? What has she done? I don’t-”

Thaia mutters something too low for me to hear.

“What- hey, where are you going?” She’s running after them. Of course she is. Elpenor just can’t find people who actually like to relax, nooooooo. We need to go wrestle goblins, or buy 18 bags of mulch at one in the morning!

With a sigh, I fly after Thalia.

-

And crash land into a bookshelf about two feet in front of her when I realize I’ve forgotten how to stop mid-air. That’s not important.

“Hola, Bat Attack! Yo he volvido.”

“So you have. You also flew into a wall,” Thalia says, poking my fallen form with her bat. I’m not sure if she was checking for signs of life or if she was prodding me to get up,so instead of getting up I decide to flop over from my sitting position to lie down on my side

Thalia furrows her eyebrows, asking, “What are you doing?”

“Dying very slowly,” I respond as I roll onto my stomach. Maneuvering myself into a standing position, I brush myself off (as well as I can with forks for hands). “We were following the dastardly dork duo, weren’t we?” I say, and take off running, somehow knowing she’ll follow.

Thalia decided this guy was beyond annoying, but still the only person she had actually run across save for the literal demon watching over the competitors. If nothing else, it’s a point in his favor, and he doesn’t irritate her so much that she would refuse his company.

The fork thing is weird though. She supposes it says a lot about just how apethetic she is when the thing that bothers her most about Elpenor’s appearance is the creative prosthetics, and that’s only because they really didn’t fit the image he built of himself in the last, oh, half hour they’ve spent walking. Where did he even get those? And why are they sparkly?

“Where did you get those, anyway?”

He follows Hilja around a corner, waving one of the forks in the general direction of her head while Thalia trails after them. “Rude much. It’s inappropriate to ask a lady about her clothing. What are you going to ask next? My weight? My age?”

She shrugged. “How old are you?”

“Older than time itself.” She gave him a look. “Older than you?” An eyebrow slowly travelled up her forehead. “Okay! I’m nineteen. What, does it show? Am I too beautiful to be an ageless being?”

“Too annoying’s more like it.”

“You are so rude. I don’t know why anyone would trust you with their children.”

“Probably because most of the area’s pro-Nat, I have connections, and I’m literally the best person to handle multiple species of children within a fifty-mile radius.”

“‘Connections’? You make it sound like you work in the Underground.”

“Ding ding.”

“You do not work in the Underground.” They stopped, Elpenor crossing his arms at her as if trying to be intimidating. Thalia laughed. “You don’t! You’re a itty bitty gnome that takes care of itty bitty gnome children and who knows what else, the only thing I can see you doing in this competition is swinging around that bat you have and dying, and… and! You’re easily taken in by friendly strangers!” He nods to himself.

“So, according to you, I’m too little and trusting to have led a double life.”

“Yes.”

She stares at him for a moment. “… Okay.”

“Don’t even try to- wait, what?”

“If mister ‘High and Mighty’ wants to say I’ve never done anything more dangerous than chop vegetables, then fine.” She shrugs again, but this time, puts in the effort to smile. “Makes my life easier.”

Elpenor’s wings droop. “You’re not supposed to agree with me…”

Heh, that’s fine. Just crush my spirit, you know.

I turn to pout in her direction, hoping to garner sympathy points but she’s already gone. She’s been following Tomm since she finished speaking, and I find myself feeling slightly miffed.

I call to her once (“Pay attention to me! I am very important.”) but Thalia keeps walking, following the heels of the boy running around corners. An almost content look gracing her face, she sets determined pace as she continues. I decide to take my “high and mighty” self to the skies again, flying a little bit above her head. The maze flits by in a blur, books shifting on the shelves as we pass. Occasionally we sift through clouds of whispers, but those times are sparse enough that I manage to not lose focus and fall out of the sky.

It’s sort of unfair. I was trapped in the maze from the realm of whatever is green and terrifying, and this pair got books. I had to get stuck in bunch a vines, betrayed by someone I’d almost started to like, and hacked literally into pieces by the Woodsman, whose wife I am trying to appease by making friends.

To distract myself I check out book titles again, far less interested now that I know I can’t read them, and when that doesn’t distract me enough, I land and start running  relishing in the pain my right leg brings me. In my experiences, pain is better than getting stuck in a cycle of hating myself.

And just as we get into a rhythm, running through the halls and slowly losing our senses, Hilja stops to admire the maze. I can understand why; the bookshelves give off familiar vibrations and almost seem to beckon those who pass, but still I getted slightly miffed. Waiting is always worse than moving forward, even if it gives me a chance to gain friendship points with Thalia.

“Now this is an adventure!” the grandma says, and I begin to tune out their conversation.

Trying to strike a conversation, I drop my elbows onto Thalia’s shoulders and rest my head on hers, saying, “She’s fast for a grandma, isn’t she? And that kid’s about your height!”

“And he’s about as disappointing as you.” She doesn’t duck away from me, though, only lets out a little puff of air, so I can tell she’s trying to make a joke. There’s still terseness in her words though, and I hope that she’s directing her brittle attitude at Tomm and not my fabulous self.

“I do not disappoint, I purposefully gain disapproval from.” Ugh, my head hurts. This isn’t normal.

Now she ducks away. “Well, you’re succeeding,” she says without much malice, so I continue my streak.

“How offensive! I have only been trying to obtain friendship from you-”

Thalia interrupts me. I almost don’t listen out of indignation, but my (hardly influential) conscience tells me that I should at least humor the poor gnome while I’m inflicting the torture that is my presence on her.

“…and it might be important,” she finishes saying.

Yep, missed all of that.

“I agree!” I say. I have no idea what I just agreed to. Let’s hope it’s world domination and not something boring like yard work. I should pay more attention next time.

With this in mind I continue to not pay attention to Thalia. My own thoughts, mostly jumbled and very unpleasant, get monotonous after awhile, but the boredom pays off when I get a brilliant idea (which is to say something I just thought of that could be mildly amusing).

Debating internally whether Thalia had outlawed goofing off in the statement I don’t remember agreeing to, I make my way over to Hilja, and she’s smiling kindly at Tomm. I roll my eyes and try to stick my fork-hand through her.

Mizar’s craft project goes straight through the old lady, and I laugh. “Thalia, look at this! Think we can walk through walls too? Oo, can we be poltergeists? No, wait, let’s posses something! I call that tree.”

“Elpenor, did I not just say to be quiet?” Thalia bites out, though she looks over at the closest bookshelf and tries to stick her hand through it.

Ignoring her hypocritical comment, I run laps through the granny and the little kid and respond, “I may have missed that part! I’m bad at paying attention! That’s a lie, I was thinking about how rude you were by interrupting me!”

Thalia doesn’t seem too impressed by my justification and mutters, “No wonder you can’t make friends.”

Okay, that hurt. “I can make friends fine, but gremlins are kind of hard to befriend.”

Thalia seems kind of offended, which is detrimental to my friend-making mission but so satisfying to my slightly wounded ego. “A gre- I am not a gremlin! I’m not that short.”

I snicker, “Trust me, you are that short. That little kid could take you in a fight.”

“That little kid did take me in a fight!” She shouts, upset, and I’ve almost decided to stop prodding her when Tomm pulls out a white rock, and Thalia jumps in shock. I notice that she’s shivering for the first time since I’ve met her, and in that moment I can almost feel the frost from the weapon leaching into my skin.

“What, did that pipsqueak use that snow cone machine on you?”

She glares as she shivers, and I know I’ve struck a nerve I shouldn’t have.

So cold.

Oh god, not now, Thalia thinks, this is the worst possible time to be having flashbacks of who-knows-what this time.

Elpenor, annoying as he was, distracted her. She didn’t expect him to, at first, believing if he actually knew just how much company helped (even if it was just as simple as ‘oh my god you’re so rude I’m going to follow you because reasons’) he would go on his merry way, possibly even hide in some shadows and watch the now-quickly approaching breakdown happen. She’d been warned.

She’d been warned by a very angry dead man by the name of Darren that Elpenor, or, as he described their mutual acquaintance, ‘That back-stabbing feathery fucker’, that said feathery backstabber was not to be trusted. This was not surprising, considering how he introduced the topic.

But still. Wandering the maze in near-silence with the whispers - those damn whispers - clouding her thoughts was as close to true hell as she could imagine being.

Elpenor alleviated it.

But no, she had to go and watch over Tomm. And now the same ‘feathery back-stabber’ might just leave her to suffer, because, as Darren insisted, that’s what he does.

She caught the tail end of an expression that really had no place on his face - not concern, per se, but a bit too edgy to be mirth - and quickly realized he was actually afraid before her mind dipped back into troubled waters.

Cold.

She’s on the racetrack- no, in Antarctica- no, god damn it, she’s in the library but that doesn’t stop the shivers that wrack her frame as the memories play out, mash together, become more nightmare than reality even though she knows that the real nightmare already happened.

The harsh breeze slips through her jacket as they’re walking back to the house, and Leah stops. She can feel her hair twist as it falls free from where it’s tied up and she bends, struggling to pick up the black band from the forest floor when she’s thrown onto her back, hands like ice grabbing at her throat and even though she’s too slow to realize what had just happened she knows the exact moment Leah roars-

Screams in agony as they run, clutching her shoulder but no, it’s fine, they would be fine but the spirit is catching up and god, it’s so cold-

“Uh, Bat Attack?” She sees the library.

There’s not enough time, she realizes, and it closes her throat in fear as the roof comes down above their heads, one solid beam heading straight for her best friend, only friend, no, she reaches an arm out as if to stop it, and the snow outside leeches to her, heeding her call-

“What?”

Leah is the most dangerous person in the Underground, well sought-after, often hated, and Thalia’s right by her side when they have to pause their matching game for the ghost to hand along a message; territory marked, hundreds dead, killed the wrong person- the only thing she can think is ‘who, who, who’- it soon evolves into ‘William, William’-

“Hey, are you dead?”

So many slices and breaks and close calls where she could see the hammer drop but dodged just in time to keep living- “No.” Maybe. Maybe I’ve been dead for a long time, that’s how re-incarnation works, right? “Not yet, anyway.” ‘Not yet,’ She said when William’s knife is buried in her side, as if she was the powerful one, as if she could actually fight him and win- “I’ll let you have my bat when I die.”

“Well, you’re technically dead already, so it’s less of a when and more- are you okay?”

Why is it always cold, even the fire- “Maybe. Don’t know yet. Keep talking.”

“Telling me to talk is dangerous. Talking is literally my favorite thing to do. Actually lying is fun too. That might trump talking, but lying is talking so…” At this point, she can almost laugh.

Waking up in the lab is, by far, one of the worst possible experiences she’s ever had until the suppressants wear off and suddenly the cold tile floors pale in comparison- “Talk about lying then. There has got to be some stupid lies.”

“Oh, there are tons. I’m a compulsive liar, so I get into a lot of stupid situations. Once I lied about understanding Latin? Accidentally held a wedding.”

The library, oh god she can actually see the shelves now, but it’s still too damn cold- “Were these incidents connected, or…?”

“Well, you see, the thing about that is- yes. Yes, they’re connected. I messed up a few letters on a document and Roman ceremonies are weird and one thing led to another. So. Whoops.”

She snorts. “Oh my god.”

“No, no, the best part about that is, I’m pretty sure they never actually divorced.”

Thalia laughs, shivers, laughs again- finally, the last part comes, finally, finally- the crystal’s poison spreads so quickly that she didn’t even realize when her body gave out, froze in place as Tomm edged away from her, god she can’t see but she feels him retreating, taking all the warmth with him and she’s so COLD-

“That’s… amazing.” She smiles. “Wanna know the stupidest lie I’ve ever told?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Can’t be that bad.”

“… One time, back when I was still traveling around with a friend of mine, we had to escort this really bratty royal kid through a bunch of northern territories - I got so fed up that I threw them out into a blizzard during my shift, only for five minutes, and when I let them back in they asked if I was trying to kill them. I told them about this- this really ridiculous reason that they had to go out in the storm right then, something like we were being watched, and the kid ate up every word. And then told their family about it. I got stuck with a bunch of pushy royals pestering me for favors for seven years.”

Elpenor, in all his back-stabby, feather-brained glory, burst out laughing.

She seems to be calming down. This is good; this is better. I am not equipped to deal with sad people, much less unresponsive ones, so I’m very lucky my lame jokes pulled her out of it. I don’t really know how to do anything except crack jokes.

“I appear to have gained a friendship level; you’re telling me personal stories,” I say. Thalia snickers a little at this, though it’s slow as she still defrosts from her formerly paralyzed state.

“You do know this isn’t a video game, right?” she asks, and I shrug.

“May as well be. Main quest: get out of maze. Side quest: obtain friend. Are you obtained yet? Do I call for the ax murderer now?”

Her eyebrows drawn in, Thalia gives me a quizzical look. “I’m not sure why you’d want an ax murderer, so I’m gonna say no.” She gestures in a dismissive manner, and I’m afraid that our conversation will end there until she asks, “Wait, where did Tomm go? Shit, he didn’t kill the grandma did he?”

Demon grandma would never go down at the hands of the easy freezy murder rock, excuse you. “Nah, they ran off. Awhile ago, actually. You really know how to zone out.”

“Which way?”

“I’m pretty sure following would be detrimental to your health, munchkin.” Please don’t do this you idiot I’m not in the mood to deal with any more breakdowns today, and I’ve put in too much effort into pretending to befriend you to lose you now.

“Which way, asshole?”

“My mama always told me that calling people names isn’t nice, you butthead. They went left.”

Hilja and Tomm are a long time gone by the time that we reach the corner I know they turned, and were it not for the trail of wreckage the deceptively innocent pair made as they went, we’d have lost them completely. As it was, however, every few feet Thalia would almost trip over a book series that had been strewn across the floor, and small cats wandered amongst the shelves and seemed to follow the living pair. Whisper clouds roared past us, searching for the only people they could really impact - one of the few perks of being dead, I guess. Destructive spirits have nothing left to tear into pieces.

Signs show we are getting closer: discarded hands lie on the floor, books are overturned, and the air was almost black and unbreathable with lurking thoughts. If I weren’t becoming slightly hard of hearing, I’m sure I’d be able to hear Hilja’s shrill joy and Tomm’s utter apathy towards life, Thalia and I are so close.

When I finally catch sight of the “It’s grandparents day at our kindergarten!” pair, they’re in a jumbled heap, four books scurrying away from their feet. Before them is a giant man, his red hair almost like blood in the light of this library, and as we all stand there he begins to turn around.

Oh god oh not the antlers please no where are my hands I don’t want these

The grandma and the kid start running again, and the woodsman watches them go. There is no moment where he pulls out a bloodied ax, and he does not go to kill the fleeing child and grandma. He just sits there, and I find myself getting angry because it’s not fair why are you being nice to them wh y not hURt them too? I’m shaking,  I can’t control I neED to PuncH sOMEone BUt YOU TOOK MY HANDS I’L L FIGHT YOU

And my bad idea kicks into motion.

Landing a short ways in front of Thalia, I shout,“Hey, Clifford! Down here!” Unfurling my wings completely and adopting a balanced stance, I bring up my fork hands and lament my inability to make fists. “Satan called, and he wants his throne back, you oversized banana!” The horned figure casts his gaze down, and though the features on his annoyingly oversized face are apathetic, the sheen over his eyes betrays his recognition.

I take a step towards him and wave my forks in his general direction because damnit he’s too frickin tall. “You see these? This was you! And I’m pissed! Fight me you frickin’ giraffe!”

A hand grabs my collar and drags me back, and I flail madly, trying to get away. “Kidnap! Stop touching me. Who is grabbing me? Let me go!”

At this Thalia clamps a hand over my mouth, saying, “Are you trying to die?”

“Thrtrs mrr lrmf frmvt thm tr dr,” I say as I lean back on her, hoping my body mass will crush her. Unlikely, as I have hollow bones, but I can try. “Yr brm r rrl brtfms rr mm.”

Thalia hisses into my ear again, “What are you, nine? You can’t fight the woodsman!”

Breaking free, I retort, “I can and will! You can’t hack a ghost to pieces, so I might stand a fighting chance this time! Hear that, you creep? I’m-” The woodsman has returned to shelving, and something about his utter apathy towards me makes me want to scream. “Hey, pay attention when I’m talking to you! Doesn’t it bother you that you just ripped me apart with an ax? You just tore me to pieces, and you can’t even be bothered to acknowledge that I’m upset? Why won’t you LOOK AT ME!?” I throw my forks in front of me, and I can’t tell if I’m snarling or crying.

For a moment, I think I see the giant man shake, but I tell myself that I am imagining things, because murderers aren’t allowed to cry.

Thalia thinks about every good thought in the universe, and then she looks at Elpenor with the straightest face she could muster. He’s leaning- or, trying to lean- against one of the many bookcases and wearing one of the most sour expressions she’s ever seen on another living being. She had to drag him out of the Woodsman’s clearing kicking and screaming, and in the meantime, they’d completely lost Hilja and Tomm.

She sighs. “How long are you going to mope?”

“Long enough for you to leave me here, you dirty traitor butthead dead girl.” He mutters loud enough for her to hear, but Thalia only sits across the aisle. “I have to make friends with you, and you say ‘no’. I unlock a friendship level, and you turn on me! You’re a horrible friend!”

He hasn’t exactly been secretive about the fact he’s only using me to get out of here. Another sigh comes, longer this time. Even if Birdbrain did talk her down from an attack - a fact he seems to have completely forgotten about, oddly enough - he’s never really been dedicated to whatever illusion of friendship he tried to establish in the beginning.

The thing about that is, Thalia’s a sucker for honesty. And she knows it.

Which is exactly why she couldn’t let Elpenor go full steam ahead with that reckless revenge plan of his.

“You would’ve died.”

“I’m already dead! So I don’t care.”

“You’re not really dead yet.”

He snorts. “Shows how much you know, little gremlin traitor.”

“You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

“And you’re really dumb, so shut up.”

“Why do you think you’re dying?”

“Because- because I am!” Elpenor’s wings twitch through the bookcase in irritation. “What do you care! You’re just… a stupid… daycare girl, I don’t get why you just won’t leave! Go… chop some stupid vegetables, or pass me a juice box, or something that doesn’t involve you participating in National ‘Let’s Piss Off Elpenor’ Day!” He growls, hunching in on himself when he hears Thalia change positions. “You-”

He blinks.

There’s a fish.

Another blink. It’s still there, swimming through the air slowly like it owns the place. It’s body is clear, the only coloring coming from the refracted light of the library. It looks tropical. Elpenor doesn’t know a thing about tropical fish, but he’s seen pictures of this one before, in full color, too.

It’s a lionfish. He spreads his wings wider on instinct, but mostly just watches in amazement.

From where she’s sitting, Thalia waves her right hand, and the fish moves with it, it’s clear body approaching Elpenor’s face, flexing its many spines, and slowly gliding away only to slowly approach again. She watches Elpenor watch her creation, as if transfixed, and twists her pinky finger.

A smaller blob of water floats up to join the fish, quickly spreading its mass wider to form a small ray. Elpenor starts at the new addition, but allows the ray to flap just above his arms, one wing brushing his shoulder. Soon there’s more - an octopus about the size of his foot carefully edging around and flicking away when he shifts; a gathering of small, clear fish that hang around his left shoulder until the lionfish circles back, and then slowly return when it swims away.

Thalia smiles. “Any requests?”

Elpenor jumps at her voice, head snapping to stare at her, taking in the twisting fingers and watching the fish as they move with her. Giddy, she lifts her ring finger in a sort of bobbing motion, and the octopus lifts one tentacle to wave at him. “… Can you only do fish?”

“Fish are easier, but no. Why?”

“Make a dolphin.”

The fish - or the puddles of water disguised as fish - swim toward the gap between the two, forms meshing smoothly into a large droplet that quickly stretches, curves, flails a bit, and then bolts forward through the aisle with only a gesture from Thalia. They watch the dolphin slow, turn, and shoot towards Elpenor only to twirl out of the way at the last second.

Elpenor smiles. Thalia smiles.

Crisis averted.

Thalia lets the water trickle down to the ground slowly. If I stop thinking about how she probably uses this tactic to calm down toddlers, the sway and pulse of the stream is almost comforting.

My mind is clouded, and I don’t think about what how Thalia will respond when I comment, “I drowned two lives ago.” Thalia drops the water immediately and begins looking me up and down, no doubt checking for hostility, and I put my forks up to alleviate her unease. “No, don’t worry, I’m good! Only worry about what’s gonna kill you, not what has, that’s what you said right?”

“I don’t think we’ve talked about death,” Thalia says, curious. Funny, I was almost sure we’d had that existential conversation by now. It’s not like I’m particularly subtle about my slightly murderous antics.

I shrug, “Oh well, it’s boring. Your water, uh, control? Yeah, that works, sort of, not really, anyway! That’s interesting.”

“Not really.” As I smile at her, she clasps her right arm onto her left in a defensive gesture. “It’s not that great of a conversation piece.” I lean in closer and try my best to present the scaled-over wound where the Woodsman struck my mouth. In my opinion it makes me look badass, and in this situation it may just persuay her to divulge personal information through its awesomeness.

I try not to think about why I want personal information. “For blackmail purposes” sounds a lot more convincing when thought of in passing.

Thalia clearly isn’t as intimidated by my face as I would be, as she says, “That’s kind of creepy. Did you have that last time I saw you?”

“Excuse you, that was rude. Go sit in the time out corner, or whatever you kids have nowadays.”

Thalia snorts. “I’m older than you.”

“Technically, as I can remember some of my previous lives, I’m older.”

“Yeah, but legally-”

“Now, dear, let’s not involve the government. Government is not my friend.”

“Whatcha do, kill a guy?”

Haha, funny you mention that. Clearly, for the purposes of self preservation I don’t say that (people usually don’t like hearing my murder tales). Instead, I just smile at her sheepishly. If I didn’t have forks, now is the time I would make awkward jazz hands, but as is clearly evident, a certain someone stole my frickin’ hands.

Thalia seems to understand my odd expression with outspread arm combination, though. “Well, that’s. I’m assuming that’s part of why you’re here?”

“Oh, look, a cat.” I am so subtle. Call me Elpenor, expert of crashing into objects and avoiding subjects. “Think Hilja and Tomm are that way?”

“E, they ran away while you were trying to fight the woodsman.”

“I still think I could’ve taken him.”

“You fucking idiot. He hacked you to pieces, remember? And how’re you gonna fight him without hands.”

“Excuse you, they are claws, not hands.”

Thalia rolls her eyes. “Claws, whatever. He’s the size of pluto! What were you gonna do? Bleed on him?”

“I think I already did that, and besides, I’ve scaled over, see? No more blood.” I make a fluid gesture to my arms, my face, all of the lines running across my skin still covered in dried blood, the wounds already healed. They match the ones I had before this contest, but these ones are a lot less pretty, more straight. Unlike me. I am not straight.

Glancing over at my fr- companion (don’t think it don’t think it you idiot attachment is not fun), I notice that she’s furrowed her eyebrows and has her mouth slightly open, displaying some kind of confusion. For a moment, I wondered what she didn’t understand, when I remember that anatomy classes are kind of confusing and that daycare employees probably don’t need to know about the biological workings of…most supernatural creatures.

“Instead of scabbing, I get scales. It’s a neph thing. It’s not just me; this is normal, I swear.”

Thalia doesn’t seem any less concerned, “You’ve got them on your face.”

“Yep. Turns out, rubbing your eyes is kind a hard with claws. I’m guessing it’ll be harder with forks.”

“And around your wings.”

And my muscles freeze, but I smile because I can remember feeling cold, but the sensation is too distant. There are screams, but I can’t hear them or see the blood pooling by my own head, or her head,

I wave my hand in a dismissive gesture, but still make up my mind to say something

because it’s hollow and ripped and the memory is shaded like an old cartoon with pastel colors and nothing concrete, and

I snicker before I speak, trying to be my usual self-deprecating and humorous self.

there’s a vacuum near my heart and my body is wracked with numbness, and my back is too light and I don’t remember why I don’t remember

“Yeah, that’s a funny story, involving mittens, a cape, some pro-nats, and lots of make-up. I’ll tell you another time, when you’ve unlocked another friendship level.” Come on, me, why’d you have to use the f word. “For now, I think I see a darker path. Wanna check it out? I’ll provide music as we go.”

Rolling her eyes, Thalia smiles a little and walks towards the route I’ve designated. As we go, I begin humming the Twin Souls theme song.

“I can’t believe I got stuck with a fucking weeaboo.”

Only humming louder in response, I try shove the image of death from my brain. It’s similar enough to the one in front of me, and I don’t need any more reminders. Better to focus on the maze in front of us, the exit growing closer every second.

Scars.

Scars. Thalia almost can’t believe it, but in hindsight, she really should have guessed. He was always too happy and smug and excited for his behavior to be anything but a coping mechanism. It made sense. Way too much sense - she’d seen it before, but never had the patience to keep up such an act for more than a month or two. But god, the scales around his wings, around his eyes, the new ones, crooked and small, covering the two stumps where his hands used to be and crusting over his shoddy replacements - those were all scars.

… She snorted despite herself.

God, she is such an asshole.

“Hey, I know my pain is funny, but you don’t actually have to laugh about it.”

“No, no, I’m not laughing, I swear.” She smothers another chuckle into one hand, and E gives her a look. It only makes her laugh harder. “Okay- okay, but it’s not at you!”

“You’re really mean, you know that, right?”

“No, it’s just…” She gestures wildly at the looming trees, vines swinging in time with the breaths of a massive entity and whispers floating in dark clouds around every corner. “This is ridiculous! I don’t actually need to be here! We’ve all lived- every one of us, we have a one-in-sixteen - or maybe fifteen? God, who’s even counting - chance at actually getting what we want, and god, it was so close, Elpenor. We were always so close, right from the moment Alcor the fucking Dreambender showed up on our doorsteps! And then we just - slapped it all away from each other, like fucking animals!”

He looked… well, insulted would be putting it nicely. “You think I don’t know that?”

Thalia sighed, arms loosened and falling to her sides. “… I know. I know you know. We would all be idiots if we didn’t realize.”

“… Are you…?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She sniffed. “I’m going back and forth right now. All this is just… really funny. I’m an idiot. Don’t mind me.”

He laughed. “Took you this long to figure out?”

“Hey, shut up, birdbrain, you were distracting me!” Thalia smiled. “Yeah. I’m dumb. The dumbest. I didn’t even agree to this to help myself, is what’s so great about it.”

“Wow. Never would’ve thought you were a bleeding heart, Bat Attack.”

“I know, one surprise after another. No, I was going to use the stupid wish thing to help out a… a friend of mine.”

Elpenor pushed a few vines out of the path. “I sense a backstory. Is it backstory time?”

“At this point, who knows. Why? Are you interested in stories?”

“Pff, no!” He turns around and scratches at his head, glaring at the tongs of his forks before slumping. “… Unless, you know. You want to share. Friends do that, right?”

“Yes, E, friends do that.” He slumps a little more, but Thalia doesn’t pay the action any mind. “Alright, I guess. So, basically, I’ve been surrounded by things that shouldn’t affect me for most of my life.” That caught his attention. Thalia grins at him. “Back a long while ago - I’m talking pre-Transcendence ‘a long time ago’ - my best friend, Leah, she was going after this… guy, that tried to kill her. Already pretty interesting, but it still has nothing to do with me. That is, until she came across this really old book.”

“Don’t tell me this is the ‘rule the world with a spell’ trope.”

“Not even close! No, whatever spell she read in there tied her soul… to mine.” They bat away a few swinging vines. “Dramatic pause necessary. So we go through a bunch of lifetimes, the Transcendence comes and goes without really affecting us, and so we get to this lifetime.”

“Huh. You sure you’re human?”

“Eh, not completely. I know I was born from humans, so that’s good enough. Anyway, we get to this lifetime and manage to meet each other in high school, because fate thinks it’s funny how we always manage to destroy things when we’re together.”

“I think I like this person.”

“So do I. So we get into some pretty harmless trouble every once in awhile, and then we meet William.” She snarls the name like an insult. “He barges into our territory, kills half our men, and carves his exiled father’s symbol into the walls. So not only did he kill a bunch of people and gravely insult us, but he put the blame on an old man who was doing everything he could to keep himself safe from his own damn son.”

Elpenor blinks. “What the hell?”

“I know.” A whisper cloud floats past them, the edges of it touching Elpenor as it does. “So a bunch of things happen. Leah tries and tries to hunt down this guy and he keeps being just out of her reach, and I sit on the sidelines wondering when people are going to start dying, because at this point it’s kind of a guarantee. Eventually we corner him, but I’m actually pretty sure that he let us do that.”

“Why?”

She snorts. “Because one of his men yanked half the power out of Leah and left her to die. After that, we were more careful, but in the end it didn’t help us any. William still lived, and Leah got all her power stolen after one of the battles. So I may have done something stupid.”

They don’t say anything for a moment.

“… Leah was recovering and I was… well, I was angry. So I got some support from her connections and went up against William.” She sighed. “It was bad. We got our asses handed to us, and William… He didn’t even care. Stalked up to me  with the most smug smile, like I walked right into his plans. I might have. But I was too angry to run, because this guy basically doomed my friend to eternal retirement. So he stabbed me.”

Elpenor blinks. “Remember when I said you’re not allowed to have a sad backstory? I meant this. This is too sad for you. Stop being sad.”

“I am not sad!” She pouts. “Just dumb! Things worked out!”

“How? Sounds pretty sad to me!”

“It’s over, though! I got out mostly in one piece, and so did most of the people that were with me…” Something shines around a corner, and Thalia grins. “Leah’s really the only one that got really hurt.”

She watches, smiling, and sees the moment he figures out where the odd light is coming from. He cheers, bolting ahead and unfurling his wings. “The exit! Oh my goodness your sad story made us find the exit! I knew I stuck around for a reason!”

“You mean it wasn’t for my impeccable good looks?”

He laughs. “You can’t hold a candle to me, Tee. Come on! We are out of here!”

“Wow, all these winners are dorks.”

[tau-oct]

Long Nights: Michael (Not) Alone in the Forest

Felt the need to continue the story, and also to answer what happens to the world once it’s left. Anyway this continues from Zee’s Round 2, explaining what happens to Michael, might make some more once inspiration hits me again.

Spectator Entry: Continuing from Zee’s Round 2: Link

—————————————————————————————————

Michael felt the electricity hit him from the back, knocking him forwards, his joints seizing up and falling face first onto the ground. The pain dulled by his stone skin, he tried to move his arms but they were non-responsive.

“Come on, come on.” He felt the steps of the Woodsman’s form making the ground shake, when it suddenly stopped near him, the creak of wood and bone slowly rising above him. Michael struggling grew more intense, this was not how he ended, not now. With a final shove he managed to turn himself face up and looked straight up at the monstrosity above him, a furious visage of branches, limbs and fire was what he saw, a huge sharp axe held in one of it’s hands, slowly rising. Michael felt that he should be having flashbacks at this point, maybe some form of epiphany about his life, but really he just felt panic and anger.

Then he heard the electricity again, looking up he saw Zee’s arms raised, electricity flying out towards the Woodsman, it struck the Woodsman, coursing through the metal axe and hitting it in various points along it’s body. The Woodsman roared and turned it’s attention to Zee, who fell back through the gate. Taking this chance Michael rolled over and pushed himself up on unsteady legs, and stumbled away from the giant angered librarian.

He stumbled along in a daze taking any path that he found, trying to gain enough distance from himself and the Woodsman. Finally he collapsed on the side of the path, breathing heavily and his head aching from the adrenaline, or whatever equivalent his body produced. As his body calmed down from the exertion he began to notice that the labyrinth had begun to change;  it had gotten darker and the ever-present mist seemed to grow thicker. It had been fairly dark before but it had been more akin to an overcast day, now it seemed that a storm was brewing and a pretty bad one at that. Groggily standing up, Michael looked back at where he had come from before proceeding forwards towards the fog.

The forest felt different, more chaotic, the trees had begun to grow farther apart while the paths began to meld into the undergrowth. The signs above the forest floor were still hanging above him though, but their messages seemed to become more nonsensical the further he went on, before finally they began to be written in an unrecognizable script.

He heard a small murmur to the side, almost thinking it had been his imagination before he began to hear more voices, murmuring quietly in the background, their exact words indistinguishable. Nervous and feeling the forest growing more oppressive by the minute, Michael slowly extracted the knife from his belt.

…who… what… alone?… not right… empty…

Michael slowly scanned his surrounding trying to find where the voices were coming from, the sky was starting to grow darker, he’d soon need some light.

…leave… escape… return to sender… cheese… cheese?…what kind? … shut up…

HE COMES

Suddenly the wind picked up and the trees swayed with the roar of shaking leaves and branches, followed by the distinct but still distant roar of a very angry creature. Somewhere between man and beast the cry ran across the forest. And the panicked skittering began. With urgency Michael brought out a flashlight from one of his pouches and shone it forwards. Hundreds of spiders moved in unison, moving in a swarm away from the source of the roar, Michael shone the light around seeing spiders of all sizes, from the size of tarantulas all the way to small dogs, all moving with a single mind, pointing the light downwards he saw they were actively avoiding going around where he stood. He didn’t dare shine the light above him, but he slowly forced himself to look up.

Perched above him stood Eight of the largest Arachnids he had ever seen, and they all eyed him with a strangely human level of wariness. The largest, the size of small car, hung from several trees, it’s webs holding its massive girth in place above the rushing swarm. It eyed him with a hint of curiosity.

Michael held his knife at his side, making sure it was visible to the spiders.

You are of the Blood of the Stone, from the Shattered sea.

“What?”

From the land of the bear?

“You mean California?”

Yes, we have seen you enter this realm, sent by the Bender of Dreams with promises of fulfilled dreams.

“Who or what are you?”

Explorers… in the further regions of experience. Demons to some, angels to others.

“…”

We are the travellers between realms. We are… Let us do away with the omniscient spirit spiel as it isn’t working with you so we’ll cut to the root of the matter since we are short on time.

The large spider lowered itself in front of Michael, who held his knife in front of himself.

I am Metatron, Broodmother and Keeper of Knowledge. And these.

She held up her front legs sweeping around her. The skittering stopped, and Michael turned his light slightly to see what had happened, the smaller spiders had stopped to look at Metatron, raising their front legs in response.

…Are my children.

Michael, looked back at the large spider and slowly realized, that this was far from ideal and that having several thousand sets of eight eyes staring in his direction was an experience he didn’t care to repeat.

“Okaaaay… and what do you want?”

We are in a rather pernicious situation, this world is beginning to become unravelled at the seams and we do not wish to be present for when it returns to the chaotic miasma of its birth.

“And that has to do with me in what way?” Michael held the knife firmly in front of him, poised to strike at the first sign that any of the swarm made any move at him, he’d probably survive, for a couple minutes maybe.

You appear to be in a similar predicament, the portals have closed for you as well, so we wish to strike a deal. Help us reach our destination and we will help you in turn, return from whence you came.

“And what do you need me for? You’re a more than a thousand strong in number?”

We are many, I would dare say we are legion, but we are … how would you bipeds say? Scholars, we are scholars, we are driven in our search for knowledge, for truth beyond the veil, and in our quest we may have squandered our more … animalistic tendencies.

“You’re afraid of that Thing. The one with the axe, the Librarian.”

Yes, the Librarian, a reasonable facsimile of a much more terrifying and destructive creature, which the Bender of Dreams has allowed one of his favoured souls to create. We have strived to avoid him at every opportunity, he does not like us. We are… rather overzealous in our research. But now it is worse, as the world grows more undone, it’s mind begins to unwind and grow more unhinged.

As if to respond to that comment another roar resounded across the darkness, followed by the sound of thunder. The ground began to shake as small cracks began to form across it.

“The hell is it doing?”

Going insane, most probably.

“Okay you have my interest what do you want me to do?”

Keep it busy as we get the rest of my children across a portal.

“And what’s going to keep you from just leaving me here?”

We don’t have a lot of time, so right now you are going to have to rely on the goodwill of a worried mother.

“That’s not a lot to go on.”

Do you have a better option?

[tau-oct]

Alex's No-Good, Terrible, Very Bad Deal

I may have played it fast and loose with a few rules here and there, but this is all technically alright. Like they said, none of this pertains to Canon, and I left it vague enough that it only concerns the canon of Alex, the only canon I have control of.

—————–

“Wake up, square! Hah! Classic shape humor!”

Alex groaned as consciousness came back to him, pushing himself up. He couldn’t exactly remember what knocked him out. He may have gotten a face full of dog rainbow laser or something insane like that. It had all happened so quickly. The cult, Alcor, Mizar. Hell, he probably burnt down whatever bridge he had with Amelie.

The weird thing was, he could vividly remember a weird acid dream involving giant sexy ginger men with horns.

“There we go! Wake up and smell the Mindscape! I’d take a wiff too, if I had a nose. I might have to borrow yours sometime, but that’s beside the point.”

Alex looked up at the source of the annoying voice and fell back to the floor with a scream.

At first glance, it seemed like a floating hexagon, something he was already apprehensive of. However, upon closer inspection, it seemed to have small, pencil length limbs. It had an eye that was shaped like a sideways D. It also had two weird, bushy lines under the eye, as if it were a mustache, which moved when he talked.

“What the Hell are you?!” Alex exclaimed, pushing away from it.

“Look, I get you might be a little fidgety. Most humans are around my kind of people. We’re a dying race. You might not be as used to us as you humans are to all the other supernatural stuff. Well, actually, you humans are very involved with one of my kind, but I’m getting ahead of myself.”

In his panic, Alex noticed that the shape had a familiar hat on it’s head.

“Wait…” Alex said, his natural curiosity overtaking his fear. “Isn’t that the hat I bargain with Alcor?”

The Shape extended a hand. “Name’s Codex. I wanted this to go smoother, but I guess I’ll have to rush the schedule since you screwed up big-time.”

Alex hesitantly took the hand. “My name’s Alex. Alex-”

“I already know who you are, kid. I am you.”

“…What.” Alex said, having trouble comprehending what was being said, but finding himself slowly gain a strange understanding of the situation.

“To make an overly complicated story short, I was a dream demon, I died during the Transcendence, and my soul was reincarnated into you. I’m only able to contact you here in the Mind Scape because I still have some pull here. So, yeah, we are sort of the same. Not identical, but same enough that my powers have some attraction to you.”

“…The Staff.” Alex said, realizing what the demon was saying.

“Exactly! That’s why you were drawn to it! And now we gotta get it back, alongside my fabulous hat! We’ll have to try and outwit Alcor, so put on your thinking cap, smarty-pants, cause we’re out-matched here.”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle this.” Alex replied confidently, agreeing with Codex.

————

“Why the hell did I think this was a good idea?” Alex asked.

“Why the hell are you so incompetent?” Codex retorted.

“This was your idea!” Alex countered.

“The concept was my idea; the execution was all you!” Codex retorted.

“If you two don’t stop shouting at each other, I will shove one of you inside of the other.” Alcor said, holding the two in a psychic lock above the ground. “You’re lucky I just started the third round. Otherwise, I would have made an example out of you to the other contestants.”

“Did Amelie make it?” Alex asked.

“Ohh, look at me, I’m Alex Locke and I’m asking about the only girl I’ve talked to in months that I have a chance at boning!” Codex retorted.

“You are such a little shit!” Alex replied. “Why did I even think of helping you out?”

“Because he was low-key mind-controlling you.” Alcor replied. “It’s something I’ve been concerned about with demonic reincarnations before, but honestly, the other cases I can think of were much more concerning than a bogger like Codex.”

“Don’t call me a booger! I’m the main reason you put Alex in this whole thing!” Codex exclaimed.

“You were mind controlling me?!” Alex exclaimed.

“Forgive your master…” Codex firmly said.

“Yeah, I cut those puppet strings, so that’s not gonna work.” Alcor said to Alex. “Do you know what he was going to do? If you had won this thing, he would have slowly taken over your mind, eventually erasing Alex Locke and taking over your identity. He would have even gotten me to go along with it, since I would have wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing with the powers of a dream demon. Stupid, right?”

“Remind me to send Amelie a fruit basket or something.” Alex said to himself.

“Or something indeed.” Codex commented.

“Can we get him a muzzle or something?” Alex asked.

“Alex.” Alcor said. “I actually do want to talk to you, now that you’re here. You see, I’m always looking for people to make the lives of who make the lives of others hellish. At least, I’m looking for those kinds of people during my moments of pure and complete sanity. The whole demon thing really makes it hard. Codex over there knows what I’m talking about, right?”

“Actually, you just sucked from an extremely bipolar nipple.” Codex replied.

“That’s just gross.” Alex replied. “And, quite frankly, confusing. What is he talking about?”

“Oh, right! You’re human! You don’t know that Alcor is actually I just forgot what I was going to say what did you do to me.” Codex said in one flowing train of thought. A bubble suddenly formed around him, and Alex and Alcor could no longer hear what the shape had to say.

“Setting up a compromise. You just know a bit too much to make it work. Luckily, since we are in my domain, I could change that.” Alcor replied.

“What does any of this have to do with me?” Alex asked.

“You may not have won the tournament, but I am going to offer you a deal. When you get back home, you will be offered a position as a supernatural expert and Theatre Arts professor at the Gravity Falls University. You will take that position.”

“Sounds like something I was already planning on doing when I got older.” Alex replied.

“You aren’t exactly young, Mr.Locke.”

“Well, neither are you.” Alex replied. This produced a laugh from Alcor, which disturbed Alex enough that he had wish he hadn’t made the joke in the first place.

“You will also be getting the Staff back, along with any additional powers I grant you that the staff would have granted you regardless.”

“Sounds too good to be true.” Alex said. “What’s the catch?”

“One of the catches is you’ll have to use it. The city is dear to me, and often attracts those who misunderstand what it is I stand for. You met some people like that when we first met.” Alcor continued.

“Crazy Alcor cultists.” Alex said. “My sophomore year roommate became one, last I heard.”

“I need you to keep the streets safe and protect the community from any threats.” Alcor said.

“…Are you saying you want me to stop being a treasure hunter and basically become an on-retainer super hero for you?” Alex asked.

“Hey, it needed to be something you would be unhappy with.” Alcor shrugged.

“What makes you think I’ll take the deal?” Alex asked.

“Because I know, deep down, your actually a good person, and even deeper down, this is something you want to do, and, even deeper down then that, you’re a lonely person who just wants to settle down and make a life for himself, and at you're deepest, you’re always thinking of death, but that’s just a human thing." Alcor said. "So, what do you say, Alex?”

“I mean, that sounds rough, but it could be worse.” Alex said. He noticed the look on Alcor’s face. “Oh. What else?”

“I do have to punish you for trying to pull a fast one on me.” Alcor said. “But I think I figured out the perfect way to do that. Tell me, Alex, are you familiar with the term ‘familiar’?…Not the word-word, but the noun. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. They’re like little creatures that follow you around.” Alex replied. “What are you planning?”

Alcor looked at Alex.

Alcor looked at Codex.

Codex looked at Alcor.

Alex looked at Codex.

Codex looked at Alex.

Alex looked at Alcor.

“Oh fuck me.”

—————–

“Oh, for Alcor’s sake, are you going to call her or not?!”

Codex was hovering around Alex as he toyed with the phone in his hands. His legs were up on his desk, feet planted firmly on top of some of the scripts students had submitted to the student theatre festival. The one he was using as a foot rest happened to be a particularly bad adaptation of a Twin Souls self-insert fanfiction.

“Sorry I don’t know how to start this sort of conversation, and I somehow doubt a neutered dream demon would know any better.” Alex replied.

“Aren’t you supposed to be good at this sort of thing? You were swimming in it when you were a treasure hunter!” Codex exclaimed.

“Well, that was…different.” Alex replied. “This is more of a…status report. I just need to know.

“Need to know what? You already know everything about me. I was like the big mystery in your life you needed to solve.” Codex said.

“Yeah, and I probably should have learned some mysteries are better left unsolved.” Alex replied. “But this is different. It’s not about me.”

“Really? Than what’s this all about?” Codex asked.

“I just…want to make sure I have some friends, now that I’ve settled down.”

“And fight crime at night.” Codex added.

“That is pretty cool.” Alex admitted. “Still, I just want to know.”

A pause.

“…Can you show me?” Codex sang softly.

“SOMETHING FAMILIAR ABOUT THESE STRANGERS LIKE ME!” Alex belted.

One Phil Collins music jam and annoyed neighboring professor later, Alex and his familiar returned to their conversation.

“Settling down really mellowed your testosterone.” Codex commented. “You’ve gotten more theatre-y.”

“I beat up criminals nightly.” Alex commented.

“You listen to showtunes when you prep.” Codex replied.

“Hey, My Shot is the greatest pump-up song I have ever heard, and I can’t help if I know it word for word!”

“You played Burr in that show, who’s like the second main character.” Codex commented.

“And I’m still salty about it.” Alex said. “Do you think I could get away with having the university put on a production of Hamilton that I could star in?”

“My common sense says that the Theatre program is for students only, but the demon in me says it couldn’t hurt to try!” Codex replied.

Alex smirked to himself, then looked back at the phone in his hands. He started dialing.

“You know, with my luck, she might not even be-”

“Hello?”

“Hi, Amelie. It’s Alex.”

[tau-oct]

How Elpenor gained +1 stalker

(I’ll be honest I’ve been sitting on this awhile because I didn’t want to be the first to make a spectator entry. I haven’t included much since I don’t want to be using characters if they already have plans, hahahaha….a short into to the actual spectating!)

“Can’t sing if you can’t speak, can you?”

The words hurt almost as much as the horrid claw in his face. His throat attacked, the only weapon he had now that his crossbow had been dropped, stolen! He wasn’t dead yet but was left clutching his throat and jaw with the claw removed. Motionless, useless!

He should counter attack. He’d be caught off guard. That never would have happened if he’d not been alone. A team was everything, he’d approached the wrong way…

“…your brain. You’ll bleed a lot, probably pass out, but you won’t die. Trust me, I’m good at hurting people.”

Brain? What? The other man was bragging about- Darren’s world lurched as he slumped to the side, legs no longer up to the task to keep him standing upright. There was more pain but it was nothing, nothing to the pain radiating from his head as everything started to make less sense. His fins lashed back instinctively but did little to convince the bush to back off any more than his scaled skin did.

“Too easily manipulated”

This the bleeding man understands. Eve said it often. He forces himself to focus and glares at the Neph, trying to figure out what went wrong. More importantly, he has his crossbow. It’s still loaded and Darren was too trusting to enchant it to only fire for its owner. Why would he fire? He was dried up, bleeding out, finished!

The agony in his knee lets him know quickly that his wordless plea of mercy and confusion was ignored. Elpenor keeps talking, lurching forward like some sort of deranged bird to Darren’s blood loss addled mind.

He’s so close, taunting. Knowing he has nothing to fear. “My friends Ben and Sasha? I killed them. So if you think I’m going to use that time wish for anyone but myself…”

This Darren can make sense of. He’d been fooled, tricked. Again. He’d felt sorry for the Neph, and he…murdered his own friends. Fury burned in his throat (or was that the wound?) and he tried to move, stop this killer from ever getting close to something as powerful as a time wish.

This attempt did nothing but finally knock the bleeding man out cold before even a twitch made it through to his legs.

  Darren thought he was dead. His eyes were open but there was nothing. Just grey. No ground, no sky.

A look to the left made him revise this. One of those dratted snakes was there like some sort of deranged parting gift. At least the pain had stopped, although he could still see blood oozing downwards and he didn’t dare risk speaking with that wound still there.

“Well couldn’t expect too much from such a soft hearted fool. I was hoping to see more hilarious accidental murder of your competitors. Too bad.” The demon appeared with a flash and a large shrug.

Darren only stared at the remark before pointing at his still bleeding throat.

“I didn’t heal the winners, why would I heal the bodiless losers? Honestly! You want to be healed, you go back home. You want to lurk around then you get to keep your little makeover.” The demon looked rather indignant that he had to explain this.  Or was he more upset that Darren had just shrugged at the remarks? “You can get home yourself, I don’t have time to keep track of all the failed potential.” With a loud crack the bat winged demon vanished, leaving Darren rather confused.

It wasn’t like he could say anything to amuse the demon right now anyway. At first Darren wanted to let go of the mindscape, get home. Back to his team, to plan. However…what the demon said implied some rather important information. He could stay, watch who was left.

Learn who the big players were, find out all he could. If the winner of the time wish was…less than moral he could get back, get his friends together. Maybe stop something bad if they held on to the wish instead of using it the instant they had it.

Find out who Elpenor was. Make sure he got justice for murdering his own friends. He knew the anger he was feeling towards the man at the moment was unhealthy, but he’d been stabbed through the throat by someone who bragged about how they’d be greedy, how they had no intention of helping anyone at all.

He felt he could feel a bit of indignant rage. Maybe a proper counselling session could straighten the Neph out but right about now he wanted him tossed in a prison. Maybe two prisons. At the same time.

Perhaps some of the other losers could be of help? The grey had snapped back to a clearing with Alcor’s huffy departure. A frustrated grab at the ‘friend murderer’ proved not only could he do nothing but the winners had no idea he was there, so the losers were the only option for now. Although the blood running down his front made him look far more monstrous than the one he was insistently following.