The recipient of a point blank tidal wave thankfully didn’t end up minding it once the entire situation was explained to them.
Lilly’s rounds of apology gave Sue enough time to finish her own cleanup, letting them all head out soon after. The dancer was a godsend in more than one way, eagerly helping carry the still-wet swaths of Sue’s all-natural dress, protecting them from getting dirty again—especially since it meant she’d get to walk right beside the Forest Guardian she was crushing on.
The question of who had been watching over the toothy girl in the meantime was answered once the trio finally arrived at the clearing, drawing expressions of joy from those gathered, Joy included. The little one waved at them from Astra’s lap, the dragon herself sitting on the grass beside the group’s table and sipping from a heavy wooden tankard.
To everyone’s glee, the metal girl wasn’t the only kid around the scene.
Once Comet had scrambled his way out of his and Spark’s play tussle, he greeted the recent arrivals with an elated squeak and an uncoordinated wave—though before he could waddle to them, the lil’ fox cut him off the moment Sue sat down. She leaped onto a seat beside Sue’s—though stopped herself from getting any closer at the sight of all the water saturating her dress. “Hi Sue!” she woofed. “Why are you so wet!?”
Pardon.
“I-I had to clean myself,” Sue stammered, hoping none of the nearby psychics were paying too close attention to her reaction.
Spark tilted her head. “Why?”
“For this~!” Solstice cut in, catching the attention of both the kit and her favorite Forest Guardian. She lightly patted Spark to make her scoot away and give her better access to Sue’s dress as she sat down, a flint knife in her hand. The lil’ fox first attempted to get comfortable on Lilly’s lap, and then—once she’d realized it was just as wet as Sue’s—she laid down on the ground beside their legs.
“What that?” Lilly asked, eyeing the curiously shaped knife.
Solstice showed the tool off. “A kind of knife that’s used for trimming our dresses, Lilly. Has to be really sharp, but doesn’t need to be very hard, and flint works well for that.”
“Cut dress?” the dancer blinked. “Like hair?”
“Yes, pretty much just like hair!” Solstice answered, smiling. “I remember when I was Sue’s age, there were a few very popular trimming patterns where I grew up. Let’s see if I can replicate one of those from memory, heh...”
“Not hurt?” Lilly asked to be sure, scooting closer to Sue and laying a hand on her shoulder.
“Oh no, it’s just dead skin, it doesn’t feel anything. By the Pale Lady, it’d be bad if it did...” Solstice shuddered at her own words. Despite having only spent a few days in this body as opposed to many decades, Sue felt her comment no less viscerally; the thought of feeling every single blade of grass her dress brushed against making her involuntarily cringe.
The Mayor’s mention of hair tingled Sue’s attention. Judging by her also sharing it, this stiff hairdo seemed to be a species-wide trait, though not one Sue particularly enjoyed. The chaos of the past few days may not have left much room in her mind to ponder about how she’d prefer to style it instead, but that was about to change. “Since you mentioned hair,” Sue spoke up, involuntarily leaning closer to Lilly. “Are there any ways to straighten it out?”
The older Forest Guardian blinked, uncertain, as she grabbed the nearest flap of dead skin. “I... think so, though I’ve never explored them in depth. Wouldn’t surprise me if all one needed was a hefty application of heat and an appropriate alchemical solution—though with just how stiff our kind of hair is, I don’t doubt it’d be a struggle even then, ha.”
“I’d imagine Patina could advise something,” Sundance added offhandedly, more focused on where drinks were being poured.
“Oh, for sure, Sunny. She’s the best person to ask about anything involving fur or alchemy. I remember her mentioning pursuing persistent pigments for her dyes, so that a light rain couldn’t wash them off. Actually…” Solstice smirked, looking up at her pupil as she grabbed the nearest flap, “talking to her sounds like a task you could try to get done tomorrow on your own, Sue~. I’m sure Willow won’t mind guiding you over to her workshop.”
Lilly whistled, “Me too!” Her addition was appreciated, lifting everyone’s mood. Sue reached around to hold her closer as she chewed through Solstice’s words.
Alas, my plans are already set.
Thankfully, the dancer’s reaction to being hugged distracted Sue from any further unpleasant thoughts—or the nearby psychics from spotting them. Lilly’s ecstatic whistle made the Forest Guardian giggle, and her delighted thoughts made her blush—it was almost enough to make her overlook almost everything else happening around the table.
But only almost.
*thud!*
Sundance setting four mugs on the table drew everyone’s attention, with the vixen wasting no time taking one of them for herself. They seemed identical to the one Astra had just finished drinking from. Sue’s curious glance at their contents prompted a rather unhelpful comment from the dragon—“Phew, they spared no punch this time!”
Curious, Sue grabbed the mug with both hands and lifted it to take a good sniff. A multitude of fruity aromas hit her nostrils, some of them increasingly familiar, all mixed with cinnamon—or something treacherously similar to it—and a handful of other nose-tingling spices. And, besides all of those—
“Oh, it’s just spiced cider, Sue,” Solstice explained. “Never had any before?”
Indeed.
Aside from a couple of cheap, terrible beers she’d grabbed from some party before regretting it shortly after, she’d never had any booze in her life, and wasn’t interested in changing that—at least back in her home world. The incomparably nicer scent of this brew was enough to convince her to give that particular poison a second try, though.
Ooooohhh.
Whatever alcohol the drink contained was its least interesting part. The mixture of several different kinds of sourness and sweetness was delightful on its own, and was only enhanced further by all the spicy, fresh herbs.
Step aside, ethanol, you’re boring.
One gulp was followed by another as Sue worked at her mug, looking around the table as she did so. Lilly was no less enthusiastic than her at the prospect of a good drink, her warm, leafy body loosening up as she leaned on her crush. The precious sound of her stray hiccups almost made Sue spill some of her own drink in all her giggling.
Further in that direction, Astra was playing with Comet as she got through mug after mug. The little Martian’s attention was so drawn to the pretty cup in the dragon’s paw that she could spin him in place as she moved it around, much to her amusement. After one more wave at Sue, Joy finally acted on her playmate’s distraction by tickling his exposed sides, sending them both into another playful tussle—and Spark joined in soon after. Her and Joy’s combined efforts left Comet flailing, his desire to laugh struggling against the limitations of this tiny body and resulting in high-pitched squeaks interspersed with winded gasps.
The fiery cub wouldn’t remain there for long, though, especially not after noticing Lilly having dried out in the meantime. With the lil’ psychic exhausted and gasping, she leaped up onto the dancer’s lap, leaned in to nuzzle Sue’s side—and almost made her spill her drink over her freshly cleaned garment.
And with how well Solstice’s trimming was going, it would’ve been such a shame for that to happen.
Sue’s eyes studied the pattern as the Mayor went through one flap after another, her drink untouched and her expression deeply focused. First, she cut off about three to four inches from the edge of each flap, the excess… ‘material’ piling into a small mound under their seats. She then rounded off each flap’s corners into almost a semicircle.
The real magic happened afterwards, with the handful of straight lines Solstice had sliced across the bulk of the flap coming together to look like a star, all without weakening its structural integrity. She couldn’t help but chuckle at noticing her pupil’s increasingly tipsy amazement. “Like the pattern?”
“It’s amazing!” Sue gasped, eyes wide and only somewhat focused. “D-didn’t think it’d be so pretty...”
Solstice chuckled, “And this is one of the simpler, more pragmatic designs. I remember some people carving entire artworks on those, usually only one flap at a time. Some even had multiple flaps done like that, ending up turning into walking galleries until they needed a trim again. It was so pretty to look at, ah...”
“Aww!” Sue swooned at her mentor’s trip down the memory lane, finding it adorable.
Though, as she tried thinking about it, she realized Solstice’s own dress was completely plain, aside from having been trimmed for length. She considered bringing that up, but eventually erred on the side of not wanting to possibly aggravate any bad memories of her people.
Only for Lilly to err on the exact opposite side immediately afterwards. “This very pretty! Why you have not, Solstice?”
The older Forest Guardian paused mid-cut at the words, her body recoiling. She forcibly straightened herself back out with a deep breath, making both of the increasingly drunk women beside her regret the question. “It’s,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “it’s something you’re not supposed to do to yourself, only to others, a-and I’ve been trying to hold that tradition. I’m just happy that I finally can...”
If not for the careful procedure being done on her and the sharp knife it involved, Sue would’ve reached out to hold her mentor there and then. Instead, she limited herself to just a drawn out ‘awwwwh’ in between gulps, soon reaching the mug’s bottom.
“It’s alright, don’t you two worry,” the older Forest Guardian reassured, trying to shake her funk off. “Maybe once you have a moment, you could try your hand at this too, Sue~?”
Sue blinked, confused. “But, I-I don’t—”
“It doesn’t have to be complex,” her mentor reassured, with a hint of pleading. “Even a simple pattern along the edges has its beauty to it.”
Sue wasn’t really opposed to that idea, merely worried about possibly messing it up. And if that weight were to be removed, then… maybe? Heh, maybe she could even give those nicer patterns a stab, ha! Why not; she was feeling on top of the world! “Sure then! W-we could try tomorrow?”
“After we’re back?” Solstice asked, and her pupil firmly nodded. “I like the sound of that! Have any specific—”
“Oh?”
Astra’s surprised exclamation snagged Sue’s attention away from her mentor’s words. It was aimed at the stony, bipedal rhino that had just walked up to her. Sundance was too busy clearing her second mug to have noticed their arrival, forgetting to include them in her translation. Thankfully, the dragon’s side was enough to make the exchange’s subject clear. “What’s up, Bedrock?”
*grumble, grumble*
Astra blinked, tilting her head. “Am I free? Well, I’m looking after Joy and Comet right now, not really. Tomorrow? I’m not sure, I’ll have to hear from Root first. What do you have in mind?” she asked, oblivious.
*grumble… grumble grumble, grumble.*
“Aaahh…” she hissed nervously, fidgeting with her free paw. “Aww… sorry, Bedrock, I don’t think I’m interested, sorry!”
*grumble, grumble!*
“Oh, it’s alright. Well, good luck with your search!” she cheered, sighing in relief the moment the rhino had looked away from her.
To the stranger’s credit, they weren’t discouraged that hard by having been shot down again. The steady chanting coming from the next table over also helped, growing louder and louder as if to cover for their disappointment.
Sue and Lilly’s increasingly floaty attention was drawn to the large gray four-arms—the former’s increasingly cloudy mind barely fishing out the accompanying name of ‘Granite’ from the recesses of her memory—as he tried to down an entire mug of cider in one go.
The repetitive cheers turned out to come from the rest of the builders’ team, including the friendly blue rhino and, soon enough, the gray rhino once more. They spread to more and more tables and voices with Granite’s every gulp, including Kantaro, remaining quiet despite having sat right beside the four-arms. The beetle’s low, gravely voice carried the chants throughout the clearing, their contents becoming clear soon after—
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”
And Granite did not disappoint.
He growled triumphantly as he slammed the now emptied mug on the table, breaking it in twain as his growl turned into an elongated burp. Cheers and shouts turned into laughter in an instant, lighting everyone’s moods even further—Granite’s included.
The sound of another full mug getting set down made Sue grab it on autopilot and take a sip before calling out to the craftsbug, earlier curiosity creeping back to the forefront of her mind. “K-Kantaro!”
Hearing an even-cruder-than-usual approximation of his name made the beetle turn towards their table and the kinda-mute-but-not-really Forest Guardian that sat beside Solstice. He raised the bit of chitin that vaguely corresponded to an eyebrow, but didn’t speak up directly. The quickly thickening haze filling Sue’s mind lowered her inhibitions enough to let her blurt out, “What’s—what’s ya name meeeeean?”
His name might have been vaguely understandable, but the barrage of gibberish that followed it wasn’t in the slightest. Neither was his brief comment coherent for Sue, prompting her to take matters into her own mental hands.
She tried to repeat the simple ritual Solstice had taught her, the invisible mental reach making it all of three inches out of her skull before being forcibly stopped by a presence much, much stronger than itself. “^Best I handle this, Sue,^” Solstice chided, holding back giggling. “^We don’t want a repeat of the Basil incident now, do we?^”
Despite the Mayor’s intent, her ribbing hit Sue harder than intended, all the shameful worry that had accompanied that entire disaster immediately creeping back to the forefront of her mind. Before panic could grip her body once more, a sufficient distraction presented itself as Kantaro repeated, “What did you say?”
“O-oh I—” Sue shuddered, trying to keep a grip on herself, “—I was curious about your name! Wh-what’s it mean?”
“My name? Kantaro?”
The beetle’s pronunciation of his own name made it clear that the version everyone else in Moonview used wasn’t a translation. It was merely a very limited transliteration, missing no less than four distinct guttural sounds compared to how he pronounced it, with Sue having no hopes of ever pronouncing any of them short of a piece of food getting stuck in her throat.
She nodded firmly, “Yeah!”
The clarification didn’t get rid of all of Kantaro’s confusion, but now her question at least made sense. It was still rather banal, making him shrug, take a large swig of his mug, and finally respond, “I believe that in Moonview’s language, ‘Stone God’s Gift’ is an acceptable approximation.”
That’s a baller name.
Sue and Lilly only grew more interested, something that Kantaro neither expected nor particularly wanted to happen. The unintended implication perked his chitin shell up before he elaborated. “It was a common name in the colony I grew up in, I knew two other Kantaro while I lived there.”
“Why’dja—why did ya leeeave?” Sue asked, thoughts and words alike growing blurrier with every swig from her mug.
Even despite her incapacitated state, she could still sense the pang of darker emotions inside the craftsman’s mind at her words, filling her with worry—worry that was soon overcome thanks to Lilly’s continued affection on her front and shoulder, her pleasant warmth making Sue want to melt.
“It was many things,” Kantaro began, voice even flatter than usual. “My colony was a talented place, but deeply stifling and focused only on itself. At some point, I desired to create more, so much more than another variation of the same banal icon, and after hearing for the twentieth time about how good of a broodmother I would make, I had enough, and left there and then. I marched westward in a straight line for many a fortnight before stumbling on Moonview’s quarry, right as Granite was in the middle of cutting stone down to size.”
The four arms in question responded with a comment that had all of theirs and most of Sue’s table burst into laughter. Even Kantaro chuckled this time, following up, “I had to intervene, Granite; your technique was atrocious!”
This time, Sue had pieced together just barely enough context to laugh, too. A stray wisp of cold, evening wind made her hold Lilly much closer; the dancer’s warmth appreciated even without an accompanying heartbeat. And, of course, Spark didn’t hesitate to help too, nuzzling into her friend’s side the moment she spotted her shivering.
Kantaro continued, “Following that, I settled for good. Abundant material, welcome hospitality, exquisite food, inspiration for the subjects of my creations. What else is an honest worker to want?” he asked, his table cheering at his words.
Sue’s head swam as she tried to pet Spark back, inadvertently tickling Lilly’s side as the dancer asked, “And then stay until leave for pilgrimage?”
The beetle flinched at the question, the rest of his table looking at him with concern. Granite tried to reassure him with a couple of pats on the back of his head, behind his horn, until eventually, the craftsbug himself replied with a sigh. “It was no pilgrimage, Lilly, not the usual sort at least. Imagine…” Kantaro trailed off, absentmindedly carving a line into what remained of his table with one of his claws.
“Imagine a splinter. Underneath the shell, stabbing your side. At first, it’s tiny, but it grows with you and follows you everywhere, aching you at all times. Every time you look at your own reflection or someone even mentions you, it stabs your guts especially hard. Each time, it feels like there’s no reprieve.”
Kantaro took a deep breath, sorting his thoughts out before continuing, “I ran from my colony in part to get away from it. However, not long after I found Moonview, I realized it had followed me all the way here, and it hurt even more. It was so agonizing I was afraid to look down at myself lest I suddenly saw blood. I tried distracting myself from it, from my body. I gave my entire self to the Pale Lady; I worshiped Her through my efforts; I put up the two monuments—I had finally reached the pinnacle of my work, if for an instant, but the splinter was still there, still goring my insides every day. And the pain only grew.”
The builder’s table listened in silence, their expressions all various shades of concern. Most of them were familiar with the broad strokes of the tale because of having known Kantaro the entire time, but not with the exact details, how it all felt for him through it all.
“One day, I simply could not take it anymore. I ran before the brink of dawn, away from people, away from water, hoping that it would help, at last. And, to my horror, it did. That fact hurt unspeakably; I felt forced to choose between the ones closest to me and even a momentary reprieve, filled with fury at Fate for having stricken me with such torment. I thrashed blindly, felling timber around me in a blind rage…” Kantaro paused with a low chuckle, “and then; a tree fell on me.”
Oh fuck.
“Were you alright!?” Sue asked, subconsciously leaning in.
He swatted his arm off to the side. “Yes, yes. If the Gate desires me, it needs much more than merely a tree. It hurt greatly, still, but it snapped me out of the worst of my anger, and… broke most of my horn off. I shambled towards the nearest stream, wanting to assess the damage—and then I finally saw it, my reflection, with its broken horn. And to my utmost shock, the splinter was gone. I stared and pondered for hours, trying to make sense of it all, a sense of this sudden relief. Until, at last, the truth hit me harder than even that tree.”
Another sip gave him a moment to gather his bearings. His free hand reached up, feeling along the recently trimmed tip of his horn. “That splinter wasn’t a curse placed on me. It was a part of me, a part I could get rid of, a part I could carve away. And so I did, spending days whittling my horn down to its current shape, grinding through dozens and dozens of boulders. And it was all worth it, every single moment, for I was finally in the shape I should’ve been in all along. I was Kantaro no longer, now, I was Kantaro, and the pain had finally left.”
The difference between the two versions of seemingly the same word was subtle, differing only in parts Sue couldn’t pronounce, but it was still present all the same. Sue didn’t have the time to dwell on that for too long, especially not once Granite had yanked the craftsbug into a massive hug, the rest of his table joining in from all around afterwards. It was enough to make even his stoic voice waver as he finished, “And then I returned, formed anew, and was welcomed all the same.”
Sue couldn’t exactly tell what, but something in his story touched her deeply all the same, forcing a few stray tears down her cheeks. As she sat there, trying to think through it, the craftfolks’ table swerved towards a different topic, cutting her off from any more followup questions. She had dissolved enough of her restraints in her mug that she simply leaned on Lilly with all her weight, muttering to herself.
Lilly wasn’t bothered by her weight even slightly.
Sue’s increasingly blurry vision soon spotted the rest of her flaps having gotten trimmed in the meantime. She had no idea where all the trimmings had gone, but was glad for Solstice taking care of that unsightly mess all the same. “Th-that was so nice, o-oh—*hick*—oh goshhh...”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Her words growing increasingly incoherent had Lilly laugh louder and louder, whistled sounds only interrupted by an occasional hiccup. After barely managing to settle her mug on the table without knocking it over, Sue returned the favor, embracing the leafy girl with both arms. Spark’s warmth, Lilly’s arms petting her back, and an undefined amount of booze in her bloodstream all combined into a heap of comfort that threatened to turn Sue into a puddle. A very happy puddle.
Lilly tried to tease, “Is! Like you!” to which Sue mumbled something not even she could understand as she leaned further on the dancer.
The sensations of her front horn resting against Lilly’s side made Sue shudder, especially with her warm bliss becoming even easier to sense. She squirmed happily, humming to herself as she took a deep breath of the jubilant atmosphere. The giddy aroma Lilly carried with herself was even nicer than usual, convincing Sue to crane her head and take a sniff right at its source.
Oooh, that’s even better—oh, Lilly?
The leafy girl’s abrupt emotional shift was all the clearer to sense with how close she was. Brilliant glee, immense, stunned fluster, and then; a deluge of excitement. Her leafy arms held Sue that much firmer, that much harder, that much closer as she tried to speak, her efforts not going any further than Sue’s. All she managed was a drawn out, elated squeak, leaving the Forest Guardian equal parts enthused and amused. Sue broke into affectionate giggling as she reached to grab another mug—
“...which cup is that for you, Sue?” Solstice asked, her voice unusually keen.
Sue mumbled, “U-ughhhgh... th-third—HEY!” before her mentor’s telepathy forcibly yanked the mug out of her grasp.
Solstice’s expression was somewhere between concerned, impressed, and slightly tipsy itself as she stared at her pupil, raising her voice. “That’s more than enough for you today!”
“B-b-but it’s, it’s jhusht chider—” Sue slurred, feebly trying to protest.
“And~?” the Mayor chuckled, raising her eyebrow. “You can hardly even stand up right now.”
“That’sh nhot thrue—”
Fortunately, Spark’s continued presence on her lap, accentuated with giggling at her antics, stopped Sue an instant before she would’ve attempted to stand up, anyway. Instead, she reached down to give the lil’ firefox some more pets, with Solstice commenting on her doomed attempt shortly after. “I think it’s about time you got some rest, Sue.”
“Bhut I-I’m all ghood…” Sue insisted.
As much as she wanted to oppose Solstice’s judgment, Sue didn’t have the drive to do the same with Lilly’s. “She right Sue!” the dancer insisted, making her finally give up with a sigh. Lilly followed her words with gentle hair ruffling, helping her greatly with accepting such an unfair decision. The other Forest Guardian didn’t keep her amusement bottled up either, joining in on the affection with her tattooed arm, the blue dye striking in the surrounding lighting.
“F-fine, fine, fine...”
Solstice smiled, glad she didn’t have to argue any further. “Let’s get you back to the clinic now—”
“I help!” Lilly cut in, enacting her plan before either Sue or Solstice could react, effortlessly lifting her crush up into her arms. Spark was similarly taken aback, jumping off just in time as Sue’s mind tried to catch up with what was happening, the realization of how cute Lilly was from up close not helping in thinking straight either.
“Are you sure Lilly?” the Mayor asked, sensing just how inebriated the dancer was herself. “It’s really no problem—”
“I sure!” Lilly insisted, holding the almost-limp Forest Guardian in her arms that bit closer. “Can move Sue!”
Solstice’s eye roll told it all—still, she was in no position to butt into their little display of dorky affection. Before she sent them off, though, she made sure they would understand each other even once they had walked away. Sue felt something ticklish in the back of her head as her mentor pulled an extension of her mind out of her skull, her dulled thoughts finding the sensation funny—and so did Lilly’s once the link was established between them, neither of them any wiser.
“Alrighty then, suit yourselves,” the Mayor giggled, waving them both off. “Sleep well Sue, sleep well Lilly, may She keep your rest safe.”
Lilly nodded. “Night!”
“Byeeeeee…~” Sue trailed off. As she was being carried, she spared no goodbyes for everyone around.
Astra looked like she was on the brink of joining the sleeping baby martian and toothy girl in her arms. Sundance only barely held her laughter in, shooting Sue a wink that she was much too clumsy to even try returning.
The builders’ table was near unanimous in their amusement. Granite and the blue rhino pointed and laughed; Kantaro smiled despite his best effort; Bedrock gave them a wistful look before sighing and joining in on the chuckles. The brown pangolin chittered to themselves, massive claws covering their expression, and the red robot insect… exhaled through their nostrils and took another swig of the cider.
Poppy excitedly pointed them out while shaking Hazel’s shoulder, the distance making it hard to tell whether she was amused, excited, or both. The humanoid ladybug she and Solstice had grabbed food from a couple days back didn’t notice them passing by, but caught Sue’s attention by drinking on their own away from anyone else, regardless.
“How are you sho strong...” Sue mumbled, making Lilly break out into even more whistled giggling as they neared the clearing’s exit.
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image [https://i.imgur.com/mIMWAoR.jpeg]By the lovely vk.com/art_meri!
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The sight on a nearby light pole caught her attention, even if she was in no state to think through its implications. In the place of one of the plentiful red-purplish fireballs hovered Crackle, without the bedsheet-like veil that kept his body obscured. The light blue flame at his core burned bright, but it wasn’t hurting her the way it apparently had back at Willow’s clinic, merely eye-catching as opposed to… soul-catching.
Despite his apparent harmlessness, Crackle didn’t remain uncovered like that for long, pulling his white shroud back over his body as he hovered off to the side of the light pole. Then, he pulled another of the magical fireballs that topped all the other light poles from underneath his disguise and placed it in his place before floating off further into Moonview, away from the evening chatter.
Such a pretty sky…
Moonview’s light pollution was thankfully weak enough for most stars to still be visible, especially further away from the clearing. A new Moon laid smack dab in the middle—at least if the circular, pitch-black hole in the stellar backdrop was any sign. Sue giggled, “Hehe, new Moon tonight...”
Lilly’s upward glance had her hold Sue even closer to herself. As much as she didn’t mind the action itself, she wasn’t sure what had caused it—at least, until the dancer herself explained, “No Moon, scary. Night people time. I protect!”
It made sense, considering what Sue had learned about Moonview, but… it still stung. “Nooo, they’re not scary,” she insisted, as serious as she could manage in her inebriation. “They won’t hurt us.”
Lilly paused, uncertain. “Think that Sue?”
“Yes! It’s sad they’re not here.”
The dancer was unsure how to respond, considering the night kin’s reputation. Though, if Sue said that, then there was probably merit to it. She was still keen to protect Sue should the need ever arise, but she no longer feared that Newmoon’s denizens would threaten her life—or at least, not as much.
One corner later, their brief trip had reached its end. Lilly kicked the door to Willow’s clinic open—hoping that she didn’t damage it too much—and carried Sue in, not letting go of the Forest Guardian until she was laid down on the bed, all snuggly and cozy.
And cozy Sue most definitely was. “Thank you so much, Lilly...”
“Thank for day, Sue!” Lilly beamed, sitting down on the edge of Sue’s bed. Her leafy arm reached out to grab her crush’s hand, only for her to hold it with both of hers, making the dancer squirm even more. “I... happy, happy happy.”
“M-me too, hehehe... i-it’s so soft here, and...” Sue trailed off, closing her eyes. Before she could get lost in all the bliss, though, a single remaining strand of coherent thought realized a very important omission in the room. “Oh, we left the crutch...”
The remark snapped Lilly out of her own daze, right before she could finish psyching herself into shooting her shot and laying down beside Sue. The dancer glanced around what she could make of the room, confirming the tool wasn’t there, before hopping off of the bed. “I grab and back!”
By the time Sue managed to nod in affirmation, Lilly was long gone. She was on her own again, focusing on trying to endure the arduous wait until the dancer got back—
And failing.
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♪ B♭ F E♭ B♭ D. D. E♭- ♪
Sue’s impromptu jamming session was abruptly stopped as she blinked and finally came to. She stared at her mom’s guitar for a few moments, illuminated by the nearby campfire and stray starlight, and wondered. She’d never learned how to play it properly; her mom had only given her a couple of basic lessons—hell, she didn’t even know how to read sheet music! And yet, despite all that, she felt…
Oddly confident, as if everything was completely alright.
Before she could give that peaceful observation more thought, she noticed the shadowy figures in the corners of her vision, sending shivers down her spine. One of them sat on the spot she’d been waking up in her dreams previously, to her left, and the other sat to her right. Her attempt to investigate what they actually were once more ended in failure, the shadows gone as soon as they’d arrived.
The rest of the clearing was exactly how she’d remembered it, unaltered to the best of her ability to tell. Above her, the same new Moon as in the waking world, and two falling stars beside it.
For once, they haven’t messed with it.
The thought brought Sue some well-needed reassurance as she put the guitar away and stood up from her mom’s seat. Despite the surrounding serenity, her worries wasted no time before chiming in, their input rational if somewhat unwelcome.
No way I got thrown in here for no reason; there has to be a hitch.
There has to be something to demolish any hopes of this sacred memory being mine and mine alone ever again.
And, indeed, there was.
To give the responsible entity the credit it deserved—namely none—the alteration was respectfully distanced from the rest of the scene. The doorway loomed in the distance, far away from the campfire to be only barely visible. Still far from preferable, but Sue would live—not that she had a choice.
Despite the doorway and the downwards staircase on its other side being completely dark, Sue could still see them perfectly clear. By the time she’d descended the stairs, her surroundings were pitch black, any and all ambient light gone completely. And, with one last step, Sue found herself on an endless field underneath thousands upon thousands of stars, all awe-inspiringly beautiful—
“Greetings.”
It wasn’t her first time hearing Night Father’s low, gravelly voice, but it still made her jump.
He seemed to have gotten the same idea as her, observing the stars before His attention slowly shifted to her. His pronunciation was… weird, as if He had to utterly contort His voice to end up with something she could comprehend, but she appreciated being able to understand him all the same. “Wait, how—how do you speak my language?” Sue asked, dreamed-up heart calming down after his sudden appearance.
Even with the ability to speak English, though, it seemed He wasn’t particularly talkative.
“Effort.”
She had no choice but to accept the non-answer with a hesitant nod. “I… alright. Wh-why are you here, again?”
“Ideas.”
Sue blinked, raising her eyebrow. “...of?”
“Suspect.”
The record-breakingly curt answer immediately caught her attention, dreamed-up eyes going wide as she asked, “Do you have an idea who could’ve brought me here?”
“Several.”
Still better than no leads at all. “A-alright, what are they?”
Sue’s question made the imaginary field beneath them shudder as His blue eye closed in focus. He didn’t accomplish much beyond just startling her, though, with the dreamed-up earthquake ending soon after.
“Multiple exceed comprehension. Singular.”
If she hadn’t been so overwhelmed at this entire discussion taking place, she would’ve rolled her eyes. “One at a time, then. Who do you think i-is the most likely?”
“Dependent on death.”
Sue’s heart skipped a beat. “...m-mine?”
“Previous self.”
“Wh-what, no, I don’t—I don’t remember dying, or even b-being close to death. I-I’m…” Sue trailed off, thinking back to her health choices and regretting not eating as many veggies as she should’ve been. “I was young a-and healthy and all that...”
“Possibility.”
She sighed. “I-I guess... who did you have in mind first, then?” The moment she finished asking her question, Sue felt even stronger tremors than before, almost toppling her over immediately. They were coming from somewhere, making her look at its source—
IT was incomprehensibly large.
Golden scales decorated ITS lower limbs, blindingly bright in the light of ITS own glory. ITS quadruped body was made of purest marble and filled up the entire sky. The halo surrounding ITS head was too holy for her mortal senses to comprehend, forcing Sue to cower pitifully. An infinitely detailed lattice ran through ITS core, comprising golden threads, green gemstones—one of them being this very planet—and stone tablets carved with divine truths; Sue’s mortal eyes only perceiving them as colors.
“Demiurge. Hollow.”
Sue trembled pitifully under the god’s might, feebly trying to shield her body as she was forced down onto her knees. The few parts of her psyche that weren’t being utterly overwhelmed by the deity couldn’t recognize IT in the slightest—and there was no way in hell she would’ve ever forgotten a sight like that.
The realization made the dreamed-up deity dissolve into fog, letting Sue finally breathe again. “Wh-what the fuck was that,” she panted, lungs burning. “Was that fucking God!?”
“Equivalent.”
She might have just found the one weird trick for her homeworld’s churches to use if they ever complained about attendance rates. As profoundly overwhelming as that experience was, though, Sue knew they were nowhere near done. If there was even a chance she could finally figure out who did this to her, she was willing to go through more, so much more—especially with the prospect of returning to her normal life on the line. “O-okay, who else?” she asked.
Her eagerness took the Night Father aback. He did the closest thing possible to lifting an eyebrow up as He stared at her, remaining expressionless. Before long, though, His focus returned to the task at hand; the dreamscape rumbled once more while the next deity manifested Itself—and immediately undid all physical distance between It and Sue, Its scarlet eyes staring her down.
Its body was made of stars and super-heated metal, their combined white and ultraviolet glare burning itself into her dreamed-up eyes. Despite being magnitudes smaller than the first one, It felt no less holy. Even the slightest movements of Its colossal arms distorted the land and sky around them, the dimension of space warbling under Its mere presence.
“Sculptor. Cautious, unlikely.”
The spatial deity was gone as soon as It had appeared. As her dream returned to the mostly featureless emptiness from before, Sue processed what she just saw, thankfully taking the mind-bending sight better this time. “Was th-that a god of light—”
“Space. Presence.”
“Space,” she nodded, breathing deeply. “O-okay.”
Night Father didn’t comment on her misunderstanding on His answer. She had no recollection of Sculptor’s influence either way, and of all the suspects, It was by far the least likely to have threatened the stability of the fabric of reality to begin with.
Once she’d gotten a grip on herself again, Sue asked once more, “Wh-what next?”
“Gate. Return.”
A cacophony of murmurs filled the heavens immediately, bringing her gaze up at the sky.
The first deity’s sky-spanning body comprised three fleshy, crimson arms, with a bloodied, grayish plume sprouting from where they connected, and from it, a tiny, low-hung head. Black veins bulged out of Its limbs as they held a colossal portal open, Its tremors making the immense strain of Its duty abundantly clear. Legions of tiny, white sprites flowed into Its portal, pouring in from beyond the reaches of Sue’s mind, each of them whispering about the demise they had met, be it with grief, fear, or relief.
The sight occupying the opposite end of the horizon was similarly massive. The second deity’s immense, rainbow-studded wings rained sacred fire with Its every flap, Its shrill cry bringing indescribable warmth to Sue’s soul as It crossed the sky. Each tiny ember Its wings shed turned out to be one of the white sprites, swaddled in seven-colored flames. As they fell, the flames caressing them turned back into flesh, in an uncountable myriad of forms—some of them even familiar.
“Inevitable cycle.”
“A-are these the d-dead—” Sue whimpered, awestruck.
“Correct.”
“Wait, d-do you mean that I-I died and ended up here—”
“Death, rebirth, identical. Possibility.”
This world certainly wasn’t like any afterlife Sue had ever imagined, her mind giving preference to the ‘rebirth’ possibility. Though, when it came down to it, was there any difference between the two when put like that? Either of them required that she had died back on Earth, the realization chilling her to the core—especially with the loud bang she could just barely recall before she ended up here.
Regardless of how much less improbable this idea sounded compared to interference by a deity further up on the divine pecking order, the evidence for it wasn’t there. After a few moments, Sue forcibly let go of that idea for the time being, even if just to hear the rest out. “I—I see,” she whispered. “Not impossible I guess, but...”
Right before Sue could throw herself into being overwhelmed or hurt once more, her thoughts veered in a very different direction. She’d been assuming that the deity beside her had been benevolent in His investigation, but… what if that wasn’t true? What if He’d just been trying to cover His tracks?
She turned towards Him, eyes narrowing. “What—what about you?”
His single eye stared blankly at her at the question. Moments dragged on as silence returned to Sue’s dream, making her worry that she’d both got it right and wouldn’t leave unpunished because of—
“Incapable.”
…
…
Yeah, I’m not buying that.
“Aren’t you a god, too?” Sue insisted.
“Half.”
The word made the once-human think back to her chat with Sundance earlier in the day. Him being a ‘half-god’ would make sense since Duck is apparently one, too. “A half-god?”
“One of two.”
Sue blinked at the clarification, guessing uncertainly, “One half of a god?”
“Correct.”
“Is… She the other half?” she asked.
The dark deity didn’t verbally answer, nodding his plume of a head before turning His attention skyward, at the uncountable stars gracing the ceiling of Sue’s imagination. She didn’t remember seeing a moon there earlier, but supposed it only made sense for it to be there—
And then half the sky moved, together with the moon itself; stars whizzed across as if they’d been painted on the surface of wings spanning from horizon to horizon. Sue could only stare, uncertain whether her own senses had played a joke on her or not. She sure hoped it was the former, at least.
“Continue?”
Sue blinked, snapping herself out of her daze. “Uh, sure. Wh-who’s next?”
Deep silence shrouded the dreamed-up clearing at her question, snuffing out any and all ambiance. Night Father’s eventual answer pierced the quiet, but sounded impossibly distant, like it was fading away,
“Grief...”
Before Sue knew it, she was surrounded by dense, pale fog. Salt in the air stung her eyes as she tried to make sense of what was happening. “Wh-what’s, where are you—”
“Sue?”
M-mom?
Her mother’s voice froze the once-human where she stood, face contorting into a gasp as she faced the origin of the sound. There she was, she was right there, alive and just as pretty as she was the last time Sue had seen her! Her expression brightened at seeing her daughter again, even if she looked so, so very different now.
“Sue! My goodness, how much you’ve grown!”
“MOM!”
Everything else can wait, has to wait, MOM!
This wasn’t just some memory; she was here; she was real; she was alive! Sue ran towards her mom, every step filling her with more and more happiness. Tears of joy ran down her face as her mom opened her arms for a hug, the girl closing her eyes as she prepared to take it—
Only for pitch-black tentacles to shoot past her and wrap tightly around her, stopping her in place.
Sue thrashed against His influence, wailing in grief once He began to forcibly drag her back. She was mere feet away from someone she thought she’d lost for good, the pain of being torn away from her again making her want to scream.
“LIAR!”
And then; Sue finally saw It.
A black, shriveled body slumped inside a spiked purple shell. Sea foam hair flowed down Its face, sparse and tattered as Its opalescent, hopeless eyes stared straight through Sue. Sue choked up before painfully coughing the joy she had felt bloom inside her out of her lungs. The sheer quantity of murky brine that had left her mouth formed a small puddle underneath her as she cried in pain.
“Broken.”
Sue shambled away from where her mom’s image and the cruel deity had manifested Itself, the fog that accompanied It long gone. All the sensations she had to relive in these few moments made her want to cry, to break down like a baby at having to relive her loss once more—but she couldn’t.
Not now, not yet.
“H-how many left...” she whimpered, tears streaking down her face.
“Two. Chaotic. Unpredictable. Inexcludable.”
Okay, I can manage two, I can do this…
“Okay…” she scrunched her face, trying to shake her grief off. “N-next then.”
For once, nothing happened right away. Sue tried to look around for any changes to her surroundings, but only found Night Father standing in the exact same spot as before, staring blankly at her.
“Certain?”
Of course not. “No, but... what other choice d-do I have?” she asked, her voice somewhere between accusatory and despondent.
The dark deity considered her words for a few moments before closing His eye once more.
The scene that awaited Sue right behind her shoulder was stunningly beautiful. A vast field of blooming pink flowers and fluttering butterflies, all of them facing the figure in the center. She couldn’t see much of it, but what she made out was similarly gorgeous. A massive shell, covered with incredibly intricate etchings, pinks, reds, blacks and whites, combining to depict life in all its forms and vividness. She took a step closer to take a better look—
“Cruelty.”
Suddenly, the shell creature turned around, and everything turned to suffering.
The force of nature locked eyes with Sue, obliterating her mental defenses and flooding her mind with visions of pain. Nails driven into her eyes, joints forcibly twisted the other way, her insides doused in acid, her head burning alive—bringing her until the brink of death, right in front of the Gate, but never further. The deity of death barred her from escaping, bringing her back to health only to torture her again, and again, and again, and again—
Sue shrieked and ran, her mind reduced to its basest of impulses as she felt her body be mangled.
By the time she could think again, her throat had worn itself dry from the involuntary screams, agony leaving her thrashing on the grassy floor of the dreamscape, completely unharmed. Shouts gave way to whimpers as suffering finally receded from her mind, left only with sorrow and trauma.
I can’t do it; I’m too weak; I’ll never make it out of here. This world, these deities, they’re too evil, I can’t…
It felt like an eternity had passed before Sue could do anything but sob and shake. Night Father stood over her, making her spit out in anger, “Wh-why did you do this to me—”
“Incorrect.”
“Y-you brought that fucking thing in here!” she shouted.
“Divine. Uncontrollable.”
“I-it’s,” she snarled, “It’s just an illusion—”
“Fragment. Divine.”
Sue had no idea if He was bullshitting her, but by that point, she didn’t care anymore. All she wanted was to storm out of this nightmare and never see Him or other deities again, to spend the rest of her days in this world, figuring out a way back through regular, not-divine means.
Even if she knew as well as He did it was naught but an agonized, impossible fantasy.
“Final. Harmless.”
Sue couldn’t tell whether His words were a promise or a reassurance, but she didn’t care either way. She was about to ask Him to do away with all this and let her go—but she was too late.
“Caprice—”
“No, fuck this, fuck you! I’m, I’m not looking!” she shrieked, turning away from Him and storming off. And indeed, she didn’t look, trying her absolute hardest to not pay attention to the squeaky, androgynous voice that had spoken up behind her. The way It enunciated its words sent a deep, frightful shiver down her back.
Night Father’s final remark made Sue want to throw hands as she continued her hissy fit of a march, only speeding her steps up.
“Very. Annoying.”
Fuck you too.
Part of her wondered how the hell was this dream still ongoing with how much suffering she’d experienced. She tensed up at the thought, fear mixing with hope of finally getting a reprieve from it all—
Destiny, however, had different plans.
A fluttering sheet of paper floated into Sue’s peripheral vision before cutting her path off. She wanted to tear it to shreds there and then—but the glimpse of its contents stopped her in her tracks.
Don’t turn around.
The elegant, silver-inked cursive reminded Sue of what she saw in her previous dream, the accompanying mental image of her own gravestone sending an icy chill through her body as her breathing grew shallow. She was afraid to shift her gaze anywhere else, muttering her words directly at the piece of paper. “Wh-who are you?”
A stray gust made the page thrash hard enough to let her spot more writing on its other side. With a deep breath, Sue flipped it around, bracing herself for what she might see.
An ally.
“An ally? Wh-what do you mean—which of these unholy things are you!?” she shouted, gripping the page tight.
After flipping the page again, the previous message was replaced with a drawing that defied comprehension.
A silver octahedron was depicted on the tattered page with a mathematical precision, looking more like a platonic ideal of a shape rather than a mere drawing. It was perfectly Ordered and slowly rotated when watched, its shining surface mesmerizing.
You may call me JUSTICE.
“Justice. Okay,” she sighed, stunned by the drawing. “What—what did you mean b-by us being allies?” she continued to ask, flipping the page over with each question.
We share a goal.
Her face narrowed. “Goal? Wh-what are you talking about?”
We both want to make the being who’d done this to you suffer and pay.
The words gave Sue a pause, her breaths growing shallow. “Do you know who th-that is?”
Yes.
“Who is it then!?” Sue raised her voice, almost tearing the page as she flipped it again.
Another scribble awaited her there, this one much more headache inducing. A golden line twisted and thrashed into shapes unknown and unknowable, writhing on the page with enough speed to render the result little more than a blur. Chaos incarnate.
She wanted to cry. “That’s not—THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER!” she shrieked.
It’s as much of an answer as I can presently give. Idiot covered Its tracks well.
Sue screamed in frustration at being denied the truth yet again. She was about to crumple the page up into a small, tight ball, before seeing a new message—
I would not advise that.
“Why did you contact me like this if you won’t even tell me anything that’s going on!?” she glared at the piece of paper with all the fury she could muster.
I have a plan to ensure Its compliance.
Sue shook in place. “Compliance!?”
It promised you a way home. I can make sure that comes to pass, and make It pay.
The mixture of anger and pain finally loosened its grip on Sue’s psyche as she considered the words. Regardless of anything else, the offer of getting out of this hellish world and back to Earth was very alluring, especially right now. Right as she was about to agree, though, a stray, bitter thought crossed her mind again, “Will it even matter if I say no?”
She hesitated for a while after asking. She knew deep down what the answer was inevitably going to be, but was afraid to face it, waiting until she had caught her breath before flipping the page once more—confirming her fears.
No.
Of course. Of fucking course I’m just playing into another deity’s sick fucking game.
“What do you want me to do?”
For now, nothing. Continue as you did. Before my plan can come to pass, Its plan must be accomplished first. Before the trap can be sprung, we need the—
Before Sue could finish reading the sentence, a louder call coming from that same squeaky, androgynous voice she heard earlier made her look over her shoulder out of reflex—
And wake up back at Willow’s clinic, the air reeking faintly of brine.