Daaaamn, this was so freaky, yo. Like, first the big thing hit that guy into a wall, and now he’s holding him like a lil’ frog or something? If Bro didn’t know any better, he might just assume he was tripping balls and smoke another handful of Rose Petals. But, no, as it turns out, this was all totally happening. He couldn’t really tell what was going on way up there, but it didn’t look like either of them were having such a fun time.

The other guys, the ones in frilly dresses and stuff, didn’t seem too intent on actually doing anything about any of this. The one with armour and a red dress seemed like they really wanted to do something, but just kinda didn’t. The yellow one seemed to be praying or something, and the blue one had dissolved into a shadow all trippy-like.

This was all very good and fine. After all, having everybody fighting and brawling and stuff didn’t do anybody any good.

But in Bro’s case, pacifism did not mean passiveness, although it usually did. Some people are of the curious sort, and he was that kind of person. But unlike Mirim, who was curious in that sciency sort of way, Bro was more interested in just experiencing a lot of weird shit. The mysteries of the universe were not for man to comprehend, but, man, he could always try!

While nobody’s looking, Bro quickly puffs out a ball of smoke, and wills his cloud-friend to lift him up just a bit. As he thought, nobody seemed to notice him. Slowly, he rose into the air, the fear of falling entirely non-existent as he took yet another puff of his rosewood pipe. Soon enough, he was easily close to make out what the two birdies were chirping about.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

Oh.

Um, not groovy. Yeah, that’s not-, then again, there should be Gods that have this sort of effect on people, but… As far as Bro knew, this guy was not one of them. In fact, there was only one of them. But even so, learn to keep your chill, dude.

Regardless of what Bro thought, the fact was that things weren’t looking too good. This creature, sentient as it was, Divine as it was, was not benevolent. If Bro had been any more like that red-dressed fellow, if he had any mind to actually defend the peace he so desperately wanted, he might have pounced on this God the second it threatened their lives. But, he hadn’t, and he likely wouldn’t. Violence would only beget more violence, after all.

So, with all this combined, all he could do was wonder why his odd-looking friend was screaming like the world was about to end or something. With all the carelessness of a man who considered himself immortal, Bro slowly floated over to the interesting spectacle taking place.

“Yo, um, dude, you cool?” Bro asked, grimacing a bit at the constant and uninterrupted screaming. A pair of dry, desperate eyes fell on him. The man’s face was twisted into pain, and… pity. A blue, alarming hue informed Bro that he’d been screaming far too long, longer than he should have been. “Bro, will you-,”

There was something strange in the air. Like gasoline, but without some integral part of it. Like the sap of oak without the essence of it, or the clear wax of a molten candle, or… or blood. Yes, that’s it. But apart from the people below, beside from the crushed and wounded and dying, there wasn’t any blood up here. Not any human blood, that is. That weirdo God was bleeding to high heaven (and it seemed to have quite the effect on him, too) from the stump of his arm that he apparently ate, but that’s not the smell.

The scent of blood seemed to linger in the air around the screaming fellow, like a cloud of evaporated human juice. With lack of any external injury, Bro would have been right to assume that the man had killed something and simply forgotten to shower afterwards, like a newbie or something. But the Mirim side of him wouldn’t allow for that explanation. Instead, a more fantastical and decidedly other-worldly notion took hold.

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What if blood was his element, and the weirdo dude had used some weirdo spell to do some weirdo stuff? It’d make sense, right? Right??

Bro nodded furiously at his own amazing genius-level deduction. Beside him, the screaming seemed to raise just one sharp in pitch, as if the slowly suffocating man was wondering why Bro was so assured about something. In his wisdom, Bro glanced back, flashed a smile, and happily failed to notice how he was being stared at by three malevolent eyes all at once.

“Duuuude, I just thought of, like, the freakiest take ever. Okay, hear me out, like, you’re another magick man, right? So, like, would your element happen to be-,” and he could say nothing more, because he was cupped up in two hands like a child would grab a Hercules Beetle. Gently, but curiously. A muffled sound came from within the hand-cocoon, but nothing more.

Right. So, that just happened. Well, with that eye-sore out of the way, he could maybe focus on cancelling the mental link he’d made with this Antenora dude. Adam? Who knows. Either way, having this mental link was obviously the cause of his screaming fit, so that is what he had to repair first and foremost.

Without a mouth for the chanting part of the spell, this would be tricky. He didn’t even want to consider how Antenora could use a hundred spell circles at once without chanting or even breaking a sweat. Maybe that’s why he was a God? If he had had the time to curse, this would be it. But he didn’t, so he’d have to form the circle, one tender movement at a time.

Blood-red Magick flowed from his fingertips and floated obediently in the air as he formed a basic, normal circle, the basis of any spell circle. And, the second he connected Magick to Magick, it fell and spattered onto Antenora’s hand. Yeah, um, that’s what not what’s supposed to happen.

Begrudgingly, the double-man redid the circle about two more times, because if it wasn’t a perfect circle (this part was much easier which chanting as support) the spell would fail on the spot. It might have been the difficulty of the task, it might have been how one half of the two had never had to do anything like this, it might be the stress of being in the palm of a God, whichever it was, he eventually succeeded.

A few more stroked of the finger (luckily not failing once more) and the spell was complete. With one final, broad movement, the cancelling spell was activated, cancelling the mental link he had created with the God. In that very second, he stopped screaming, falling to his knees with a gasp. The air assaulted his throat on the way down, the already tender throat only hurting more.

“Gahk, kkh-,” he groaned, barely even noticing how the massive apparatus holding him swayed and wobbled where it stood. If it could have made a sound, it would have.

When Teach reluctantly rose his gaze to look at Antenora, he was met with a fiery, enraged gaze, like a child whose toy had been stolen. That sadness almost seemed gone, replaced with, or rather, hidden by a superficial, seething anger and Teach couldn’t help but compare to the sort of anger an animal must experience, less so about personal relationships and injustice and more so about something being taken from it. Yes, it seemed feral where it stood, back hunched, tentacles squirming and digging even deeper into the pavement. Some tentacles rose and plunged back again, like a cat beating their tail into the ground to show their anger.

That curious child was gone, kidnapped and consumed by some beast. The child was still in there, but the beast didn’t seem to realize it, probably out sheer stupidity. If this thing had seen the dude on the cloud, Teach had no doubts that he’d have been swatted down like the helicopter just a few days prior.

Speaking of that odd fellow…

He was still being held by Antenora. As furious as the entirety of the God seemed, this did not stand true when speaking of his hands. Teach himself was still held as softly as a small, tender fleshy thing, and the cloud hippie was still encapsulated in that cocoon. It’s like Antenora hadn’t even considered taking out his anger on them.

Now that he had regained his speaking capabilities, Teach briefly wondered what it was that kept himself reaching out to the hippie using the same method. He also wondered how he could possibly remain this calm when in the hand of a God, but it was likely that the other part of him, the Tiftos part, was responsible for that. And as much as this other part of him was against creating a mental link with whomever they so desired, Teach himself possessed none of these qualms.

And so, with a quick chant and a quick spell circle, he caught the mind of the hippie.

“Yooo, welcome to Chipotle, how may I serve you?” a lazy voice called out before Teach could even say anything. Attentive. “Dude, like, this is the part when you say, like, a funny quip, and I return with an even funnier one, yeh?”

“I’m sorry, but we have no time. Look, who are you, and why were you on a cloud?”

“Broo, like, you don’t gotta out me like that, heh. But, uh, it was funny, cuz I was on a cloud, and it was really fun. If I did it again I’d like, make a cloud eight times, and then when I did the ninth one, and I rode around on it, I’d be on cloud nine, heheh, get it? Like, as in cloud-,”

“Yeah, sure, yeah, but, um. You were trying to tell me something before, and that was…?”

“Oh, yeah, like, is your element blood? Cuz that’s, like, edgy, but also cool? I dunno, I wish I’d had a cool element like that, all I got is…”

Teach observed with indifference how the cupped hands started leaking a purplish, tender smoke.

“-Smoke, which is, like, pretty cool, but also kinda boring? I’d rather have something cool, like-,”

“Sir, we have to do something, or I’m pretty sure Antenora will kill even more people.”

“...Okay, uhhh, as long as it doesn’t involve, like, hurting him or nothing, I’m in?”

“...I think I may have a plan. Bear with me.”