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Assistant: Title: Jambound
        Author: Anonymous undefined 
        Chapter: 7/29 
        Summary: The room is too bright.It’s quaint, in a nauseating sort of way. Polished floors glint from the gleaming honeycomb chandeliers overhead, make him squint. A few vases sprinkled here and there, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet scent – even a waffle-cone headrest framing the silken sheets of a neatly-tucked bed. Outside, the golden sun gleams, the gentle rays of light spilling past curtains that waver in the afternoon breeze.It's meant to be beautiful. Luxurious. Welcoming.With one sweep of his cane, Shadow Milk tears it apart.[[ Updated semi-weekly ]]
        Contents: Chapter 7
    

    


  

  
  
    
    He’s not going inside.Shadow Milk had decided that pretty quickly; there’d been no internal debate, no long-suffering back and forths in his head about it. Pure Vanilla can lay down all the challenges he likes, can bat his stupidly long lashes and smile his vague little smiles – Shadow Milk Cookie is not going inside.The inn stares back at him from across the courtyard, taunting him as Shadow Milk sits cross-legged in the air and-It’s not a pout. It’s frustration, boredom, a persistent sort of rage that never seems to abate after more than a minute in Pure Vanilla’s presence.The gall. The gall! The sheer pretentiousness of it all, to act as if Shadow Milk’s freedom is something on offer. As if he needs Pure Vanilla’s gentle voice to reassure him that he is free to go and do as he likes.
  You do not need to be here.
Shadow Milk is well aware of his freedom. Shadow Milk may be a creature of cunning, but he is not above taking what he needs by force. His powers dwarf every insignificant speck of a Cookie milling about these streets; he can level this kingdom in the blink of an eye if he so chose.Which makes Pure Vanilla’s half-baked attempt at – what, reconciliation? – all that more grating.
  Do not mistake willingness for desire.
Stupid little doormat. Pointing out the obvious, then daring to tack on his sugary-sweet slop?
  I want you to remain here, with me.
Shadow Milk sneers at the sky. His ivory tower awaits with open arms; Pure Vanilla had made that perfectly clear from the get-go. Distance spanning continents worsened the pull of the bond; relative proximity left them more time, more days to go without before being forced into their awkward… embraces.Well, forced on Shadow Milk’s side, anyway. Pure Vanilla’s never turned him down once.
  I enjoy your company.
Ridiculous.
  I enjoy our time together.
Repulsive. Delusions are all well and good – Candy Apple Cookie’s can be on par with Shadow Milk’s own from time to time – but Pure Vanilla isn’t playing properly. He’s not hiding from his ugly little truths, getting wrapped up in a lie so wonderful he’ll never want to resurface. He’s presenting his absurdity as truth, insisting upon it, refusing to see the rotting apple in his hands for what it is.Speaking of…Shadow Milk’s gaze slides back to his basket, discarded on the floor in his fury when he’d uncloaked. The apples he’d so tirelessly worked to steal now lay strewn about on the cobblestones, all scuffed and dirtied.Great. Another one of his things Pure Vanilla has ruined.The issue now is Shadow Milk… isn’t quite sure what to do next. He’s not going inside – that’s been well established – but he’s also not really feeling the markets for the moment. The children had been a disappointment; bright enough, with a promising enthusiasm for stealing in the youngest, but a disappointment nonetheless. He could slip back into Lady Milk Crown Cookie and find a besotted young thing to torment; but even she feels dismissive, uninterested in the back of his mind.Shadow Milk, reluctantly, admits he’s just feeling a bit tired of it all.The lazy allure of curling back up in his bed and drifting through the waning hours of the day is certainly appealing – but his room is in the castle, and he’s also decided he’s not going back there either.So where is he going?Another glance at the inn; another dismissive sneer and sharp turn of his head.No.A crow caws overhead; Shadow Milk follows its movements as it alights on the inn’s roof, ruffling its feathers and pecking at a wing. His gaze then slides downwards, down to the lowest floor where a brightly-lit, if not still somewhat grimy window glistens promisingly.Hm.Shadow Milk’s not going in, but perhaps there’s no harm in sneaking a little peek. Maybe seeing such a dark and dismal-looking place’s shabby interior will cheer him.A quick flit through the shadows and he’s at the window; the lights within glow, casting long silhouettes on the stones outside. Evening has already begun slipping into the first vestiges of night, leaving ample shadows for Shadow Milk to cloak his form in as he presses his face to the window.The inn is – not as shabby as he’d expected. The wooden floors are polished, gleaming beneath the ample candlelight littered about the place. There’s a well-kept bar counter, a smattering of tables and chairs filled with Cookies happily chatting away, mugs in hands and smiles on their faces. The largest table lies in the center of the room; there’s a raucous group seated there, shouting and swinging their mugs with open joy as they clap each other on the back and bump shoulder-to-shoulder. A rather motley crew, some vaguely familiar faces, and-Pure Vanilla Cookie, smiling brightly with them all.Shadow Milk pulls away from the window, scowling to himself as he slinks away from the inn. Loud, obnoxious Cookies, visibly celebrating together, and Pure Vanilla cheering with the best of them. Shadow Milk had half-expected – he doesn’t know. Some air of solemnity? A figure sitting alone, nervously awaiting a decision he claims to be asking for?Doesn’t matter. Shadow Milk’s not going inside.He folds his arms across his chest, floating on his back in mid-air as he closes his eyes and wills the pinch of irritation from his brow. It doesn’t matter what Pure Vanilla Cookie is doing, or who he’s with, or what he wants. It doesn’t matter what sort of pathetic trinket he’s conjured up for a gift to entice Shadow Milk into his lair; it can’t be anything that grand, nothing spectacular enough to warrant Shadow Milk’s presence. He’s barely curious about it at all.He's a little curious.Still, not enough to act upon. With nothing to do, nowhere to go and a heavy feeling of fatigue settling in, Shadow Milk simply… floats there. The cool night air feels pleasant on his dough; the darkening sky a pleasant blanket to rest his eyes under. He could nap here, like this. It’s no silken-sheeted bed, but it’s here, free, completely unattached to any needy little half-Cookies and their despicably soft gaze.An image of Pure Vanilla Cookie laughing at the inn’s table flits through his mind; Shadow Milk dismisses it sharply, turning over in mid-air and tightening his grip on his arms.He’s not sure how much time passes, exactly – he dozes off at some point, drifting between slumber and periods of flickering wakefulness. The chill in the air is approaching something less tolerable; Shadow Milk turns over again, shifting restlessly as he wills his eyes to remain shut.“Hey.”A voice rings through the air; though its tone is calm, the suddenness is enough to stiffen Shadow Milk’s shoulders – he bolts upwards and whips his head around, cracking his neck in a full circle as he scans his surroundings.The courtyard is empty; save for one lone crow, pecking at the remains of his discarded apples.A brusque laugh follows. “Up here.”Shadow Milk snaps his gaze upwards to the inn’s balcony; there’s an amused smile being directed his way, along with a singular, startlingly familiar iris shining in the dark.Overhead, a crow caws.“Hey,” Black Raisin Cookie repeats. Her posture is relaxed, a half-empty bottle of cider held loosely in her hand as she leans on the inn’s upper railing. “Shadow Milk Cookie, right?” A crow alights on the balcony next to her; it too caws before she shushes it with a wave of her hand.Shadow Milk says nothing; he merely perks a brow.She knows him?“My crows have been keeping an eye on you,” she remarks, swirling the bottle once before continuing: “Sorry, I should ask – do you prefer Lady Milk Crown Cookie instead?”Ah. A close eye, it seems.Shadow Milk pushes off from the ground; as he floats upwards, he watches her track the movement with a gaze that is impossibly sharp and deceptively relaxed at the same time. When he’s finally hovering at her level, inches away from the railing, he folds his arms behind his back and leans into a half-bow. “My, my, my,” he remarks lightly. “Black Raisin Cookie.”She smiles, eyes sharpening for a split-second. “Shadow Milk Cookie.”“Protector of the Abandoned Village.”“Beast of Deceit.”Shadow Milk’s own smile curves wickedly. “Ah! I see my reputation proceeds me. A fan, are we?”Black Raisin Cookie takes a swig of her cider, adding a noncommittal shrug. “He talks about you.” She does not elaborate on the he - nor does she need to. “We ran into each other at the seeds stall today. Asked me to keep a look out for you.”Shadow Milk’s smile twists into a sneer. “Baby-sitting duty? How far the mighty protector has fallen.”“Not really,” she replies easily. “I call it ‘keeping tabs on the most dangerously malevolent and powerful being in the entire kingdom.”“Oh! You flatterer, you.”Black Raisin Cookie perks a brow. “He called it ‘looking out for a friend’.”Gross.“Anyways…” Shadow Milk twirls his cane, folding one arm across his chest. “What is this, then? You here to give me a warning too? Touch my Cookies and I’ll crumble you, yada yada?”“No.” Black Raisin Cookie shakes her head. “You’re not my fight. Threatening a being like you would be meaningless, and only serve to further endanger the Cookies under my care.”“Smart Cookie!” Shadow Milk leans in closer. “Do tell, then. For what purpose has the oh-so loyal Black Raisin Cookie drawn my attention?”Black Raisin Cookie raises her nearly-drained bottle, cocking it to the side. “I thought we could drink together.”Shadow Milk levels her an unimpressed stare. “Excuse me?”“You’ve been staying up at the castle.” She nods past his shoulder in the direction of the towering spires. “Mostly alone, from what the on-leave staff has been saying. Stuck up there with Pure Vanilla Cookie for, what, well over a week now? Two?”“So?”“So,” she repeats, a renewed smile tugging at her lips, “I thought it’d be interesting to have a drink with the only other Cookie on Earthbread who could possibly understand how annoying he is to live with.”A beat passes between them; Shadow Milk stares at her while she tilts her head, staring expectantly back.Then a wild, wicked grin splits Shadow Milk’s face.“My dear!” He claps his hands together; the air fills with glimmering bottles, bursting with berry juice. “Oh, why didn’t you say so? And here I was, thinking you were just another dull, boring pile of crumbs in the making. Where was this energy back in the village, hm? Oh, you were so serious then!”Black Raisin Cookie lowers her glass. “You know me from the village?”“Call it a case of shared memories, don’t overthink it.” Shadow Milk waves his hand at the bottles floating about him. “What’s your poison? A nice dark Redberry, or something light and sparkling? Oh, how about something from before the Dark Flour War?”“I-” Black Raisin Cookie blinks. “I’ll let you pick. You seem to know what you’re doing.”“Oh, you are a smart Cookie. The red, then.” Shadow Milk flicks his wrist, sending the other bottles scattering to the winds; they loudly shatter on the pavement below as he uncorks the red and gives it a sniff. “Hm! Raspberry Vineyards, if I’m not mistaken.”Black Raisin Cookie peers over the railing at the scattering of glass around the fountain. “Children play down there.”“Don’t spoil my theatrics,” Shadow Milk retorts. “Now, have a seat.”“There’s no-” A sharp gasp of surprise as she’s scooped into mid-air, a swiftly-conjured cushion sweeping her legs out from under her. She tightly grips the cloth with her hand, struggling to find her balance as Shadow Milk taps the bottle with his cane, producing two glimmering wine glasses filled to the brim.“Here,” he says, holding one out to her. “Swirl it first.”Black Raisin Cookie glances unsteadily between him and the ground, her one hand still holding on for dear life.“Oh please,” Shadow Milk sighs with a roll of his eyes. “You won’t fall. I’m not going to crumble you now that you’ve only just piqued my interest.”Hesitantly, Black Raisin Cookie releases her grip. She slowly takes the glass, swirling it once before glancing back up at Shadow Milk.“There we are.” Shadow Milk settles down, folding his legs in mid-air as he takes a single sip from his glass. “Now then!” A smile, all teeth. “Tell me alllll the things you hate about Pure Vanilla Cookie.”“I don’t hate him,” Black Raisin Cookie corrects. “But,” she adds hastily as Shadow Milk’s smile drops, “he can be very difficult to live with.”“Don’t I know it.” Shadow Milk swirls his glass. “Though I must say, I’m surprised. I thought you two were all goody-two-shoes, buddy-buddy back in the village. Partners in arms, as I recall.”Black Raisin scoffs. “In a way. I suppose he’d remember it like that. But-” She hesitates, then sighs. “Listen, here’s a question for you.”“Hm?”She leans slightly forward, face suddenly serious. “In all your time living together so far – have you ever seen him eat something?”Shadow Milk considers her question; he takes a slow sip from his glass, mentally ticking back through the days. Their time in the kitchens – no, he’d been drinking then. Tea, or some such. Over their games, maybe? Nothing particular comes to mind. Finally, he remarks: “Well, there were quite a few buzzing little gnats shoving plates under his face in the markets.”“Ah.” Black Raisin Cookie shakes her head. “Doesn’t count. That’s someone forcing him. What I mean is, have you seen him eat without someone else making him?”“Mmm…” Shadow Milk hums, clicking his tongue. “Guess not.”Black Raisin waves her hand wildly, the wine in her glass threatening to spill. “See!!”Shadow Milk c@cks a brow. “See what?”“He doesn’t take care of himself. Never has, maybe never will.” Black Raisin’s shifting in agitation; Shadow Milk doesn’t share the sentiment, but it’s amusing to watch. “He’s always putting other Cookies first and never thinking about himself. Do you know how many times I’d find him passed out somewhere, out cold from overworking and undereating?”“No,” Shadow Milk muses. “Though I suppose the old fool wouldn’t remember being unconscious.”“How many times he’d pass on food I specifically saved for him, food he needed to keep his healing magic flowing, only to pass it on to anyone who so much as glanced at it?” Black Raisin furiously tilts her glass back, draining it in three big gulps before slamming it back down on her cushion. “No matter how many times we argued, no matter how many times I pointed out he can’t help properly running on fumes, he doesn’t listen!”She’s venting. Shadow Milk’s being vented on. “No, go on. Really let him have it,” he remarks dryly.Black Raisin sighs, leaning back on her cushion. “Sorry. It’s just-” She lifts her hand, rubbing at her face. “It’s really annoying how he refuses to depend on other people. Even with no sight, no idea who he was, no way to defend himself – he never let me in, never let anyone shoulder his burdens. And it drove me crazy.”Shadow Milk simply sips at his drink.“Sorry,” Black Raisin repeats, reaching down to offer her glass. “May I have another?”“Only if you don’t wolf it down like an animal again.” Still, Shadow Milk floats the bottle over, pouring it gently into her glass. “While I totally get where you’re coming from – finding him a nuisance, a hypocrite, an utter drain on your soul - I’m afraid I’m just not in the habit of caring for or looking after him.”“It’s not just that.” Black Raisin Cookie at least has the good graces to swirl the wine before she takes another too-large sip. “It’s knowing someone’s going to have to pick up his pieces when he falls. That he’s too stubborn to ask for what he really needs, or to even admit it to himself.”Interesting.“He’s quite a skilled liar,” Shadow Milk remarks idly. “I would know.”“Also.” Black Raisin bites her lower lip, casting her gaze to the side. “He…”Shadow Milk leans in. “Yes?”Black Raisin sighs. “He snores. So. Loud.”A blink, then Shadow Milk grins ear to ear.Now they’re getting somewhere. -- Black Raisin Cookie is surprisingly enjoyable to talk to. Perhaps it’s the liquid happiness warming his jam, perhaps it’s how precisely she cuts through all of Pure Vanilla’s foibles – but he likes her. Sincerely.How strange it is to see how she’s changed. He remembers her fighting tooth and claw to carve out a life for her village; he remembers her being so curt, so proud, so vicious. All admirable qualities, really, but city life seems to have softened her gaze a bit.That or, again, the liquid happiness she’s drained four cups of.“You’re smiling.”Shadow Milk glances up; he’d been eyeing his fifth glass with a vacant stare, a few half-muddled thoughts on his mind. He’s not drunk, not really – but there’s a very pleasant buzz beneath his dough. “Hm?”“You’re smiling,” Black Raisin Cookie repeats; she’s smiling too. “What are you thinking about?”Honestly, he can’t really remember.Shadow Milk perks a brow. “Why do you care if I’m smiling?”Black Raisin sloppily shrugs her shoulder. “Just good. There was two sadsacks at my party. Now there’s only one.”“Sadsacks?”Black Raisin lifts her hand. “You,” she says, pointing directly at Shadow Milk, “and…” Her hand drifts down, gesturing below. “Him.”Slowly, another word filters through Shadow Milk’s mind.“Wait, party?”“Mhm.” Black Raisin shrugs again. “’S my birthday.”Shadow Milk glances at their surroundings. “Hate to break it to you kid, but this ain’t exactly a party.”“Nah.” She points again. “Down there. ‘S fine, I already did it. I like other Cookies, I do, but I like my space, y’know? So they’re doing the party more down there, and I hang up out here and then it’s all good, y’know?”Well, she’s definitely drunk.Still – she’s once again piqued Shadow Milk’s interest. “Who’s the other sadsack?” he queries.Black Raisin rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.”As wonderfully warm as Shadow Milk’s head feels, he’s still no fool to implications. “Pure Vanilla Cookie?”Black Raisin throws back her head, rolling her eyes once more.Shadow Milk will take that as a yes. “He seemed happy as a rancid little clam, last I checked.”A scoff; Black Raisin’s eyebrows lift. “Thought you two were close.”The air around them darkens; she abruptly shuts her mouth. “We’re not,” Shadow Milk replies after a moment.Aside from a wretched little soul-link, but that’s neither here nor there.“Well,” she continues carefully, “I’ve lived with him long enough to know when he’s moping. He’s doing the staff thing.”Shadow Milk sets his glass down; it hovers in the air in delicate balance. “What staff thing?”“The grabbing,” Black Raisin says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “The two-hands thing.”“Humor me,” Shadow Milk drawls, “and elaborate?”A long, drawn-out sigh. “He does this.” Black Raisin mimics grabbing the air with her singular hand. “But, y’know. With two.” Shadow Milk stares at her, unimpressed; she sighs again. “If he’s upset,” she says slowly, “he holds his staff with both hands. And he was doing that the whoooole time I was down there.”Hm.“C’mon, go look.” Black Raisin Cookie nods her head towards the inn. “You’ll see. He’s probably still doing it.”Shadow Milk considers it; he swirls the remaining drops of juice in his cup, watching flecks of red stick weakly to the glass. He doesn’t really want to go back down there; he’s quite comfortable where he is. There’s no real need to disrupt this tiny droplet of contentment in an otherwise putrid day.Still – there’s a flicker of interest beneath the pleasant buzzing in his mind. Pure Vanilla, moping about? At a party, no less?“Go on,” Black Raisin prompts again, and Shadow Milk sighs.“Fine.” He grabs his cane, unfolding his legs as he stands – and immediately wobbles, clutching his head as his vision sharply blurs.Whoah. Alright, he’s a little drunk.Black Raisin Cookie raises a brow. “You okay there?”Shadow Milk dismisses her with a wave of his cane; she sharply plummets, a startled cry ripped from her lips as she scrambles helplessly in midair – only to jerk to a sudden halt, face inches from the ground. “Wh-” she gasps, eyes wide.“Calm down.” Shadow Milk floats down to hover beside her; another flick of his cane and she drops, hitting the pavement with a soft thud. “See? You’re fine.”Black Raisin pushes herself off the ground, rubbing her face as she stumbles to her feet. A scowl as she accuses: “You said I wouldn’t fall.”“Yeah, hold me to a promise. See how far that gets you.” Shadow Milk floats towards the windows, hands folded behind his back. “Now show me the moping.”Black Raisin Cookie shuffles over beside him; her own stance is unsteady, a rocking sway as she leans on the brick wall and presses her face to the window. Her hazy eyes scan the room several times over, face gently illuminated in the orange glow of the lights within. Then, she lifts her hand, tapping at the glass: “See? Right there.”Shadow Milk floats closer, nudging her with a slight hip bump as he peers through the dirty glass.The scene is more or less the same as he’d left it; there’s a few less Cookies about, a few more slumped drunkenly at tables. There’s a Cookie belting a song out atop a table - the innkeep, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to mind, too busy wiping down mugs at the counter. In the middle of it all, there’s still a bustling table, still Cookies laughing and clapping each other on the back, still –Pure Vanilla Cookie.“Told you,” Black Raisin Cookie remarks; Shadow Milk perks a brow. There’s no trace of distress on Pure Vanilla’s face; he’s smiling, laughing with another Cookie that ruffles his hair in a show of sickening closeness. From all accounts, he looks perfectly content – there’s no expository pulse in Shadow Milk’s Soul Jam to indicate otherwise.“He’s fine.”Black Raisin Cookie rolls her eyes. “Hands.”Shadow Milk lazily lowers his gaze to Pure Vanilla’s hands – and they are, indeed, grasped tightly around his staff.He’s never really taken notice of that before.“You call that moping?” Shadow Milk says dismissively. “I’ve seen mopier.”Over a plush toy, no less.“Moping in public.” Black Raisin Cookie has turned away from the window, slumping against the wall as she rubs tiredly at her face. “Or sometimes he’s nervous, or angry, or whatever. He always clings to that thing when he’s upset. Call it a tell.”“Hm.” Shadow Milk continues gazing through the window, watching as Pure Vanilla reaches for a stray mug, taking a hearty swig before placing it back down.His hand, immediately, returns to his staff.Interesting.“I drank too much,” Black Raisin Cookie mumbles from the side; Shadow Milk ignores her, toying with his cane as he watches Pure Vanilla Cookie through the window and simply…Considers.They sit in silence; Black Raisin, clutching her head, and Shadow Milk alternating his gaze between the window and the sky. The gentle black of night has consumed their surroundings; even the flickering lamp on the far end of the courtyard struggles to pierce the pleasant darkness. High above a pattern of stars sprawls across the sky, each a glittering pinpoint of light, a single blemish in an otherwise perfect abyss.He knows the constellations well. They’d always been a singularly fascinating point of subject for other Cookies, young and old alike. Their names are meaningless, images of beasts and heroes they’re claimed to elicit conjured from fantasies alone – they are stars, nothing more, nothing less. There is little meaning to them beyond the power that can be woven from their fall; yet time after time even the simplest Cookies will chase after them with eyes full of glimmering wonder.The moon hangs high, a waning crescent – and a stray, passing thought flickers in Shadow Milk’s mind.“Black Raisin Cookie.”She grunts, slid all the way down to the floor now.Shadow Milk stares up at the sky a moment longer, before finally asking: “Do you know anything about a blue moon garden?”Black Raisin Cookie cracks open an eye, fixing him with a hazy look of befuddlement. “Huh?”Foolishness.“Ah, forget it!” Shadow Milk rises through the air, his trademark grin firmly back in place. “Hey, you look awful! Guess a country girl like you really can’t hold her drink, huh?”Black Raisin simply groans again. “What was in that stuff?”“The finest ingredients, crafted by the best brewers of the last 500 years. Thank you for noticing.”  Shadow Milk summons his jester cap, sweeping into a mock bow before her. “Well, my thoroughly pickled lady, I must take my leave. Do try not to walk into too many fence posts on your way back, hm?”“Wait.” Black Raisin Cookie is pushing herself, struggling to her feet with another pained grunt. “Where’re you going?”“Eh.” Shadow Milk shrugs, gesturing to the inn. “Can’t make an appearance on principle, but think I’ll slink around in the shadows for a bit, do some spying. Based on how many empty bottles I spotted, it’s right about the time Cookies start blurting out all their nasty little secrets. And hey,” he adds with a carefree shrug, “if Nilly’s really a moping little sadsack in there, maybe I’ll get to see him burst into tiny, little, miserable tears. Wouldn’t that be fun?”Black Raisin stares at him a minute, an odd, unreadable emotion crossing her face. Finally, she blinks her eyes and asks:“Why do you want to see him hurt so much?”She gets no answer; with a flick of his cane she’s sent sprawling backwards into the streets, tumbling along the cobblestones before she scrambles to right herself. Whatever she shouts back at him is a slew of incomprehensible cursing but Shadow Milk barely hears it, already slipping away through the cracks in the wood.The shadows of his darkness make for a much better conversation partner anyway.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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