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Assistant: Title: Jambound
        Author: Anonymous undefined 
        Chapter: 2/32 
        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 2
    

    


      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    There’s a discomforting familiarity to this place.Shadow Milk drifts lazily through sun-touched halls, past rows of portraits and statues all gleaming in their pristine glory. Spotless rolls of cream carpet lead him down corridor to corridor, the same waffle-cone pattern lining the walls and floors no matter which way he turns. Even more nauseatingly, the same five shades of light glimmer from stained sugar-glass windows over and over and over; to say Pure Vanilla held sentimentality towards his band of ‘Ancient Heroes’ would be putting it mildly.A heavy sigh is the only sound that breaks the quiet as Shadow Milk twirls his cane and contemplates just exactly why he is out here.There’d been a kernel of truth in what he’d said to Pure Vanilla – always is, in any good dash of deceit. He doesn’t do well with captivity, voluntary or otherwise. Tight quarters leave the phantom feeling of silver bars at his throat, and it’s not a sensation he’s willing to tolerate for long.Still, it’s not much better out here. For all the revolting humility that Pure Vanilla likes to conduct himself with, the degree of ostentatiousness around here is astounding.Shadow Milk’s gaze drifts upwards to yet another gargantuan portrait of Pure Vanilla, hung with care above a golden plaque. The other Cookie looms larger than life over him, eyes closed with a forever-still smile painted upon his lips and a Cream Sheep held in his arms. The artist had painted a sort of halo around him, a glow that frames him oh-so-perfectly in the light. He looks perfect, pristine. Untouchable.Without thinking, Shadow Milk’s cane rises; a quick tap and the painting changes, twisting in a blur of black and blue. A snarling Cake Hound now lay where the sheep had been, sinking its fangs into its owner’s arm – an owner whose once-serene face was now clenched in a silent scream.Shadow Milk smiles to himself.Better.The sight is so tickling that he finds his cane raising yet again, sweeping across the air as the hallway distorts around him. Golden sunbeams are banished as darkness swallows his surroundings; when his hand lowers once more, gone are all the glaring hallmarks of Pure Vanilla’s oh-so-perfect world. Now, Shadow Milk gazes down the spitting image of what had once been his own spire’s walkway, familiar eyes emblazoned on every surface that wink back at him in the dark.Much better.There’s a clatter behind him, a small gasp that pulls his attention around. His neck swivels, cracking audibly as his gaze lands on a small, trembling cookie standing in the entryway. There’s an empty tray of now-scattered sweets laid out at her feet; her hands fly to her mouth in abject horror.Shadow Milk’s grin widens, every sharpened tooth on display.The cookie shrieks, turning on her heels to flee, and a shiver of excitement runs down Shadow Milk’s back.Finally. Some fun.The chase is not difficult; he’s faster than she could ever hope to be with those small, delightfully terrified steps. He leaves room between them as he flies after her down the hallways, just close enough to hear her terrified gasps, close enough to make her scream as he blows a breath down her back before cackling in her ear.Her fear is palpable, filling the once-quiet rooms with shrieks of open terror as they tear through the castle –And it is so, so funny.He’s still giggling to himself as she turns a corner abruptly, so lost in his own delight that he nearly smacks his head into the next archway. He hisses, dipping low as she frantically scurries through a swinging door that opens into-Oh. Not what he expected.A large kitchen sprawls out before him, stopping him momentarily in his tracks as he takes in the surroundings. Enormous lines of polished countertops and gleaming stovetops glint beneath the chandeliers above, light bouncing off rows upon rows of jars filled with sugar and jam packed tightly into corners. A subtle coffee aroma fills the air – which is made altogether stranger that such a massive room seems so empty.Well. Almost empty.The little cookie girl is trembling in a corner, trying to hide her tiny frame beneath a stray jar lid. Shadow Milk floats closer, hovering menacingly with a wicked grin as he reaches forward-“I see you’re out of your room.”Despicable how such a calm, steady voice can stop him in his tracks.Shadow Milk levies a poisonous look to his left; there in the adjacent doorway, Pure Vanilla stands with a steaming mug in hand. He even has the gall to sip at it delicately before his gaze finally rises up to meet Shadow Milk’s own. “You seem to be in high spirits today.”An ugly smirk is on Shadow Milk’s face before he can stop it, cane twirling in his palm as he turns to face the other. “What, no good morning?”“Good morning,” Pure Vanilla repeats back. “I’d advise you to stop teasing the staff now.”Shadow Milk scoffs. “Advise me? And, pray tell, why exactly would I be seeking your advice?”Pure Vanilla doesn’t respond at first; there’s another slow, patient sip through half-lidded eyes that pinches Shadow Milk’s brow with irritation. Finally, there’s a quiet, simple:“Cuccidati Cookie?”The blow to the back of his head is immediate; Shadow Milk barely has time to exhale a startled gasp before something tightens around his chest and he is pulled, yanked harshly to the floor. There is a beat, a moment of processing as his tilts his chin, staring down in disbelief at the licorice rope wrapped tight around his torso.“Thank you, my dear.” Pure Vanilla’s voice cuts through the shocked silence like a knife. “You may go.”And oh, that Cookie – that small, frightened little cookie steps forward, darting on the cusp of Shadow Milk’s vision as she dips into a low curtsy before them. And then she is gone, darting away through the double doors and out of sight.Shadow Milk closes his eyes – when they re-open, he burns.The ropes melt off him as he rises, pooling on the floor as he ascends in building, seething fury. He directs every inch of his vicious gaze towards Pure Vanilla as he flies across the countertops, sweeping his cane to send mixers and bowls flying every which way. The din of their clattering drowns out his angry breaths as he stops inches away from the other, and Pure Vanilla –Pure Vanilla smiles at him.Shadow Milk physically recoils at the sight.“My apologies.” Pure Vanilla tilts his head slightly, swirling his mug. “I had hoped you’d see the humor in my little trick. Though, I will say that a fair warning was given.”“Trick?” Shadow Milk hisses venomously. “That wasn’t a trick, that was-”Humiliating. A cheap shot, a foul play, a-A trick. A trick? Pure Vanilla was playing tricks on him?“I’m certain you’ve noticed the castle’s emptiness by now.” Pure Vanilla steps past him, as if totally blind to the vicious snarl on Shadow Milk’s face. “I thought it might make your adjustment a bit easier if there were a few less Cookies around while you’re still getting your bearings.” He pulls up a stool at the nearest counter, settling down with one hand around his mug as the other –Pats the seat beside him.Oh, he must be joking.Pure Vanilla’s hand withdraws; the look of poisonous refusal must be plain on Shadow Milk’s face, because the other simply continues with: “Still, some staff is needed to keep things running. So I hand-picked a few close friends to remain, with temperaments better suited to ease the transition.”Shadow Milk stares him down from across the counter. “Hand-picked,” he repeats dangerously.“Cuccidati Cookie was quite the trapper back in the village,” Pure Vanilla muses. “Ever eager to help. Her specialty was… I suppose the term would be ‘luring prey’?”Shadow Milk’s grip on his cane tightens. “Oh,” he says slowly, voice sickeningly sweet. “Oh, how adorable! You two are comparing me to prey? Me? Shadow Milk Cookie? Do I have that right?”The room darkens, lamps overhead snuffing out in quick succession.“I asked her to go and find you.” Pure Vanilla watches him steadily; there is a wariness now, trying to stay hidden beneath a revoltingly stubborn smile. “Perhaps I misjudged your fondness for trickery, but I did not think you’d come if I simply asked for your presence. I thought egging you into a chase might be more…”Fun.That’s what it had been, hadn’t it? Fun, woven along a sinful thread of deceit pulled by Pure Vanilla’s hand.Beneath the simmering anger, Shadow Milk feels another tug at his Soul Jam; he clamps down on the sensation, hard.“Regardless,” Pure Vanilla continues. “I wanted to ask you something.”Shadow Milk’s eyes narrow; his emotions feel jumbled, heady anger mixing with an annoying sting of intrigue. His grip flexes experimentally on his cane, twirling it once as he takes a breath to compose himself.“Oh?” He tilts his head, eyes widening in mock curiosity as he floats closer. “A question just for me? I’m so honored. Let me guess – you want to know how many tiny, little crumbly pieces I’m thinking of turning you into right now! Personally I think a thousand would be far too messy, but hey, I’m open to suggestions.”“That’s a shame.” Pure Vanilla takes another sip from his mug. “I thought we might play a game instead.”Shadow Milk can feel his brow imperceptibly perk. “Really.”“You like games.”“Everybody likes games.” Shadow Milk taps his cane on his foot. “Why should I play one with you? I had plans today myself, you know.”“More redecorating?” Pure Vanilla’s gaze travels back to the doorway. “I passed by some of your work on my way here.”“Aw,” Shadow Milk sneers. “Are you a fan?”Pure Vanilla, infuriatingly, smiles back. “You wouldn’t be happy if I was.”“Too bad!” Shadow Milk floats another foot upwards, flipping upside-down as he grins wickedly. “I may just get my foot in the business. Really give this place a good Shadow Milk Cookie makeover, make it pop. I think everyone’s getting a little tired of seeing your dewy-eyed mug plastered everywhere, hm?”Pure Vanilla’s gaze follows him up; Shadow Milk barely understands why. He’s stared out of those eyes himself time and time again; from this distance, Shadow Milk would be nothing more than a hazy blur of color.“Would you like to play me for it?”Shadow Milk’s brow creases. “What?”“Play me for it,” Pure Vanilla repeats, pushing himself off his stool. “If you win, you may redecorate the castle to your liking. Though I will ask that you revert the changes before the full staff returns.”The proposal is laughable – literally. Shadow Milk snorts in disbelief, flipping around in the air once again. “Excuse me? Why exactly would I need to play you for that? I fail to see the part where you-” He jabs his cane at Pure Vanilla for emphasis. “-have even the teensiest, tiniest way of stopping me.”“That’s true.” Pure Vanilla sets his now-empty mug on the counter, brushing at his robes. “You have the power to do as you wish. I would be wholly unable to stop you.”Shadow Milk’s eyes narrow. “So?”“So,” Pure Vanilla replies easily. “Wouldn’t it be more fun to beat me before you do?”The suspicion does not abate, but Shadow Milk is – intrigued, albeit reluctantly. There’s a mischievous glimmer behind Pure Vanilla’s eyes; that, in itself, is rare. “You seem confident that I’ll win,” he drawls, eyeing the other up and down. “So sure of your own shortcomings?”“Really?” Pure Vanilla muses. “I think we’ll be on rather equal footing. Perhaps you’re just afraid to lose?”A taunt. Open, brash and daring – for him, anyway. How unusual.Shadow Milk’s mouth slowly twists into a wicked grin.How refreshing.“Alright.” Shadow Milk lowers himself back down, hovering so that he and Pure Vanilla are eye to eye. “Color me intrigued, you silly, simple little thing. What’s the game?”Pure Vanilla smiles. “I was thinking Hide and Seek.”Hm. Not exactly the most exciting proposition in a place like this. And, more obviously-“Uh, hello?” Shadow Milk raps his knuckles on Pure Vanilla’s forehead, earning a small wince from the other. “I know you’re one bad fall away from crumbling of old age, but you do still remember that I can see through you? Lit-er-ally? You’re not exactly giving me much of a challenge here.”Pure Vanilla gently pushes his hand away. “I didn’t mean you’d be searching for me. I suppose it’s more of a scavenger hunt, though you’d be looking for just one item.”Shadow Milk rolls his eyes. “What, lost your bunny slippers? Going senile in your old age?”There’s a small quirk to Pure Vanilla’s brow. “You are much, much older than me.”“And yet,” Shadow Milk sighs, tossing a hand through his hair, “still as effortlessly handsome as the day I was baked. Truly, how do I do it?”There’s an amused eye roll from Pure Vanilla. “May I continue?”“Jealous, much?”“Listen. I’ll tell you a riddle, alright?” Pure Vanilla motions to the door with his staff. “You’re looking for something in the castle. Solve the riddle to find the item I’m looking for, then bring it to me before nightfall. You do that, and you win.”Shadow Milk hums, considering as he idly rolls over in the air. “Still doesn’t sound like much of a game. Seems to me like you just lost something in that oh-so feeble memory of yours.”“Oh, I know exactly where it is. Though,” Pure Vanilla adds, “I admit I would be troubled if you did away with it.”Now that sounds interesting. Shadow Milk rights himself, grinning ear to ear. “Did I say not much of a game? Because, believe me, I would absolutely love to play with you.”“Wonderful.” Pure Vanilla’s smile is revoltingly genuine. “Shall we begin?”“Wait.” Shadow Milk holds up a hand. “We haven't outlined all the rules yet. What do you get if you win?”Pure Vanilla pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Oh! Um…”“What, seriously?” Shadow Milk gives the other an incredulous once-over. “You go to all this trouble and you don’t even know what you want?”“I suppose I didn’t think you’d offer.”“Wh-” Shadow Milk sputters indignantly. “I’m not offering! You’re the one who made this about stakes! It’s hardly a real game if only one side is-!” He waves a hand dismissively, irritation creeping back in. “Ugh, forget it.”“No, no,” Pure Vanilla replies quickly. “I know what I want now.”Shadow Milk rolls his eyes. “Go on, then. Your audience is just dying to know – but let me guess. You want me to, what, clothe the sick? Feed the poor? Spread wight and wuv?”“If I win, you come to the blue moon garden with me tonight.”Shadow Milk blinks.“What?”“The blue moon garden.” Pure Vanilla tilts his head ever so slightly. “I mentioned it to you the night before.”Shadow Milk stares down at him in disbelief. “You have the opportunity,” he says slowly, “to ask the Beast of Deceit, the Master of Chaos to do anything - anything - and you want me to go stand around in a bunch of stupid flowers.”“Yes.”Absurd. Infuriatingly so.Shadow Milk scoffs, floating higher out of reach. “Whatever. Not like it’ll matter either way.” He gives Pure Vanilla a distasteful once-over, folding his arms across his chest.“Go on, then. Give me your riddle.” -- Shadow Milk’s cane trails along the castle walls as he glides through the corridors, turning Pure Vanilla’s words over and over in his mind.
  My eyes are open, but unseeing. My limbs lay lightly, but cannot move. I am the sight you treasure most in this world, and hide where none but you would find me. What am I?
It’s more of a riddle than he’d expected from the other; frankly, he’d been half-bracing for some cutesy, rhyming nonsense. The words aren’t terribly clever, lack the certain flair that Shadow Milk brings to his own games, but Pure Vanilla had at least not insulted him by making it obvious.Shadow Milk hums thoughtfully to himself, drumming his cane in his palm as he picks apart his options. The first, immediate thought had been a mirror – after all, what better sight than his own? Yet it hadn’t quite fit - he certainly had no trouble seeing his own reflection and his limbs remained as free and flexible as ever.There had been a brief, irritated musing that Pure Vanilla had had the gall to suggest himself, blind as a bat that he was. Still, that hadn’t felt right either; while he may have slowed with age, Pure Vanilla was fully capable of moving about.The sight you treasure most.What exactly did Pure Vanilla think he treasured? The riddle felt far too objective, too open to misinterpretations from the other. Deceit, the only true fundamental core of his being, was a concept, a living, breathing creation - not a simple object to hold in hand.Was Pure Vanilla trying to guess his interests? Or had he just concocted a game that was flawed from the start?Shadow Milk scowls to himself before discarding the idea entirely. No. Pure Vanilla was annoying, presumptuous, altogether the most pathetic thing Shadow Milk had ever laid eyes on –Well. That’s where his thoughts begin and end, really.There was something Shadow Milk was missing, something beyond the riddle’s simple words. What else had Pure Vanilla said? What had slipped through the cracks?Oh, I know exactly where it is. Though, I admit I would be troubled if you did away with it.Pure Vanilla’s easy certainty in the first statement was – interesting. If he was so confident of the location, he must have seen the object recently. They’d spoken early in the morning hours; while it trailed towards evening now, it did mean that Pure Vanilla could not have gone far before their encounter in the kitchen.Perhaps he’d passed the object off to the miserable little Cuccidati Cookie? Shadow Milk had already taken the time to scour the grounds for her to no avail; she may be in hiding, or have left the premises entirely. A wise decision on her part, really.Still, that didn’t feel like an angle Pure Vanilla would take. A moving object defeats the point of the game, the riddle itself. Pure Vanilla was many things, but he wasn’t a bad player.So what would he have seen on his way to the kitchens? It may be impossible to tell how many rooms the other could have dipped in and out of – but there at least would have been one starting point Shadow Milk can be sure of.Pure Vanilla’s bedroom.It’s as solid a place to peruse as any - though admittedly, Shadow Milk has never entered it properly. All of their previous secret, soul-touching rendez-vous had been a simple matter of slipping in and out of his portals in the dead of night; Shadow Milk isn’t actually certain where in the castle it would be.But, well. Why fix what already worked?A wave of his cane and Shadow Milk is slipping back through the darkness, sliding along shadows that dip through the cracks of reality. He knows the route by heart; it only takes a few moments before a familiar Cream Wool rug solidifies under his feet. He takes a few steps forward, letting the portal’s inky wisps drip from his back as he surveys his oh-too familiar surroundings.He truly doesn’t understand how Pure Vanilla sleeps like this.There is far, far too much light for one simple room. It’s a tolerable enough place to visit in the dark of the night, but the evening sun glaring through stained sugar-glass windows pinches Shadow Milk’s brow into a pained squint. The chandelier above burns brightly despite the room’s notable lack of occupants – even the bedside lamp is still flicked on.Does Pure Vanilla just leave everything like this all day? Did he anticipate coming back so late at night as to need it?Blind as a bat indeed.Shadow Milk rubs irritably at his eyes as he floats through the room, squinting gaze darting this way and that as he scans the area. There’s nothing that grabs his attention immediately; he’s seen all this before. He drifts by a desk, piled high with documents that Pure Vanilla spends hours scribbling away at with quills, then a bookcase that’s stuffed to the breaking point with musty old tomes. There’s plush reading chair, gleaming bedside tables and dressers with neatly-pressed robes lined in a row. The most grandiose object by fair is the king-sized bed and its glittering silken sheets, an object Shadow Milk is reluctantly well-acquainted with.The sheets are, annoyingly, perfectly tucked.Of course.There’s no obvious answers that stand out to him as Shadow Milk drifts to and fro; he checks the cabinets, the shelves, even the adjacent breakfast nook to no avail. Everything seems as banal as he’d expected. No clues, no hints. If anything it feels like a deader end than before – there’s certainly nothing around here that he would treasure.There’d been a sliver of enjoyment in shriveling the white lily by the windowsill, at least.Shadow Milk sighs to himself, crossing his arms as he massages the tip of his forehead. What else? What else had that pest of a Cookie said? What was he missing?
  And hide where none but you would find me.
It feels like the line should be pertinent; most Cookies would never dream of setting foot in Pure Vanilla’s bedroom unannounced. Yet still, there were servants about, Cookies to sweep up the messes and press his stupid little robes into crisp perfection. Shadow Milk can’t have been the only Cookie in here, even just for today.So what else is there?Shadow Milk taps his cane against his palm, squinting around the room. Even if he presumes he's in the right place, how was he supposed to see anything like this? It’s too nauseatingly bright, lacking a single sliver of soothing darkness anywhere except-Except.Shadow Milk’s gaze slowly drifts down, down to the massive bed that lies stage center in the room. He lowers himself, gliding an inch from the floor as he c@cks his head at the shadowed space beneath the bed-frame.Darkness. Weak, flickering darkness – but darkness nonetheless.None but you.He reaches out, his hand sliding through dust as he feels blindly underneath. There’s a touch, a light brush against something cold – he leans in closer, grasping until his hands find purchase on something metallic. A hinge?Shadow Milk pulls hard, tugging the object as it catches briefly on the bed’s slats. Another yank, then two, and the object pops free, tumbling out of Shadow Milk’s grasp and sliding gently across the floor.A box.A small wooden chest, no larger than a simple loaf of bread. It’s unassuming, chipped and worn. It lacks the grandiose golds and whites of the rest of their surroundings, looking almost crude in comparison – like it had been fashioned by a pair of inexperienced hands.A grin splits Shadow Milk’s face in two.He lunges for his prize, grabbing it in greedy hands before turning it side to side. There’s no switch, no key taped to the underside – just a simple metal clasp that he undoes with a flick of his wrist. Shadow Milk’s hands seize each lid, violently wrenching them open as he leans in for his prize. Then-He freezes.The room feels too quiet now. There’s an unnatural stillness, a deathly silence that settles into a swiftly darkening room as the grin slowly drops from Shadow Milk’s face.Oh.He continues to stare motionlessly down into the box, grasp on it loosening with each passing moment. After several moments he turns it over, dropping the object into his open palm. He brings it up to his face, staring it down for what feels like hours.It's the answer. Shadow Milk’s confidence in that is absolute, at least. Yet a new trickle of uncertainty narrows his gaze - an unbidden, unwelcome question now hangs in the air around him.For a brief, flickering moment, Shadow Milk considers if he truly wants to win. -- “Hey, Nilly!”Two mismatched eyes turn upwards, a milky gaze that widens in surprise as Shadow Milk pulls back his arm, bares his teeth in a grin and-Thwack!The sound the doll makes as it collides with Pure Vanilla’s face dispels all doubts.This had definitely been worth it.Pure Vanilla lets out a muffled squawk, doubling over as he covers his face with both hands. “Wh- Shadow Milk!”Shadow Milk clutches his sides, peals of cackling laughter filling the evening air as he grins ear-to-ear. His grin only widens as Pure Vanilla wipes and sputters crossly, massaging the spot the doll had made impact before directing an openly cross look upwards. “Shadow Milk,” he repeats and oh, the stern voice is back. “That wasn’t funny.”“Now, now, Nilly. Is that any way to talk to a victor on the eve of his triumph? One might think you’re being a bad loser.” Shadow Milk twirls his cane once, then motions with it to the ground. “By the way, your little pests are eating my prize.”Pure Vanilla follows his gaze, starting briefly before hastily bending back down. “No, hey, no! Give that here!”Shadow Milk watches with mild amusement as a surprisingly bulky Cream Sheep stares back at the other, the doll clenched firmly between its teeth. The rest of the flock milling about the pasture pay them no mind aside from a few stray sniffs, but this one turns, pulls back from Pure Vanilla’s grasping touch. There’s a slow, almost methodical air to it as it stubbornly chews away, slobber and spit crushing the fabric between its teeth.Pure Vanilla groans and pulls, tugging back and forth as the sheep stubbornly clamps down. There’s another tug, an irritable bleat-
  Riiiiiip!
Shadow Milk doesn’t try to stifle his snort as Pure Vanilla stumbles backwards, landing solidly in the dirt. The other barely seems to notice, his dismayed gaze fixed on the shredded remnants in hand.Two little diamond-patterned legs dangle helplessly in his palms.“Hey, not a total loss.” Shadow Milk floats lower, eyeing the remains with a smile. “Some say those are my best features.”Pure Vanilla sighs, low and quiet; he doesn’t look up, not even when Shadow Milk gives the tip of his hat a condescending pat.“You know,” Shadow Milk continues, “I’m a bit disappointed in you, Silly Vanilly. I know you’re a bleeding heart but really, this was just sad. What did you expect to accomplish, hm? Did you really think I’d be moved by your little display of sentimentality?”No response. Pure Vanilla continues to stare miserably down, giving Shadow Milk nothing but silence.Stubborn. Boring.“Come on.” Shadow Milk flicks the other’s forehead. “Why so serious? That thing was already falling apart to begin with.”“It was buried.”Shadow Milk tilts his head. “Hm? What’s that?”“It was buried,” Pure Vanilla repeats; he’s getting to his feet, putting his weight on his staff as he rises. “In the rubble of the spire.” His hand is clenched tight, stubbornly refusing to let go of the paltry remains. “That’s where I found it.”“And what,” Shadow Milk drawls, “you thought I’d be oh-so touched because you picked up my trash?”“I didn’t do it for you.” Pure Vanilla’s looking away, refusing to meet his gaze. His attention is on the ground, the sheep – anywhere but Shadow Milk. “I took it as a reminder.”Shadow Milk’s eyes narrow to slits. He thrusts an arm out, grabbing Pure Vanilla by the chin, yanking him forward and forcing their eyes to lock. There’s a beat, a brief struggle as Pure Vanilla tries to pull away – but Shadow Milk holds him fast.“You don’t need a reminder,” he hisses, drawing every word out. “I’m right here.”Pure Vanilla stills in his grasp. There’s a hesitation, a held breath as Pure Vanilla’s wide eyes stare back, expression unreadable.Then his eyes lid, gaze averting down to the ground once more.Annoying. Pathetic. Stubborn, sentimental old fool.“Congratulations.”The reply is monotone; Pure Vanilla is already tilting his head away, yanking himself free from Shadow Milk’s loosening grasp. He turns away towards the sheep, daring to put his back to Shadow Milk before he continues: “You won the game. You may do to the castle as you wish.”Annoying.Annoying, annoying, annoying.Shadow Milk grits his teeth at the image of Pure Vanilla’s back, clutching at his chest as his Soul Jam twinges painfully. He can feel it, the other’s detestable unhappiness bleeding through like a poison – a dull throb of, of all things, disappointment.He likes it when Pure Vanilla is unhappy. He likes it when the other’s face twists in shock, horror, dismay.But games aren’t fun if the other isn’t willing to play.Shadow Milk sighs, loud and dramatic – loud enough to earn him an unhappy glance backwards before Pure Vanilla turns away again.Fine. FINE.“You’re such a sore loser, Nilly.” Shadow Milk rolls his eyes before pointing his cane at the other. “Come on, give me that thing.”Pure Vanilla turns in full, a startled sound escaping as the plush’s remains slip from his hands. He tries grasping at them but the tattered legs are already floating up out of reach. They glide through the air, coming to a stop a few feet away from Shadow Milk’s unimpressed stare.“Honestly,” he drawls, heaving another theatrical sigh, “You are way too soft for your own good.”Shadow Milk flicks his cane; the legs are instantly surrounded by a cocoon of darkness, a rush of silver thread swirling in spirals over and over before coming to an abrupt halt.Hovering in the air, Shadow Milk eyes over his newly pristine mirror image – albeit a much smaller, plusher one.Well. At least Pure Vanilla has good taste, he supposes.“Here,” he says dismissively, flicking his cane again; the plush suddenly drops from the air. He watches as Pure Vanilla’s stunned expression changes to one of momentary surprise, the other stumbling forward to grab at the doll mere seconds before it hit the muddy ground.Shadow Milk continues to watch, brow perked in growing irritation as Pure Vanilla stares wordlessly down at the toy. Really? Not a single word of thanks?“A-hem.” Shadow Milk clears his throat pointedly. “Were you raised in a barn? I am expecting some adulation here! Such a gracious, magnanimous act from little ol’ moi deserves-”“Thank you.”Shadow Milk’s next words stutter to a halt. Pure Vanilla still isn’t looking at him; he’s examining the doll, lifting it up towards the sky with an expression that is shockingly, unnervingly-Tender.Something strange twists in Shadow Milk’s chest; his Soul Jam hums oddly, ringing in his ears. The sensation is mutedly foreign, like a brush to the back of his throat that itches in just the wrong way.Disgusting.Shadow Milk quickly schools his expression, his trademark grin firmly in place. “Hah! So, so sentimental. Sad, really. Well!” He claps his hands together, pointedly turning away to place his gaze firmly on the castle. “If that’s all it takes to keep an old sap like you happy, I think I’ll go have some real fun. Tell me, do you prefer snakes in your closets, or tea pots? Don’t answer that! Let’s just do both.”“Do you want to play again tomorrow?”A simple question – far too gentled, far too quiet. Shadow Milk’s grip on his cane slightly tightens before he barks out a laugh.“Lost and already so eager for a rematch? You’ve got moxie, I’ll give you that.” He keeps his back turned away, ignoring the sound of Pure Vanilla stepping closer. There’s a beat of silence, a moment of hesitation before he feels the brush of a touch at his back-Shadow Milk shrugs his shoulder away, floating upwards and out of reach. “An-y-way,” he sing-songs. “I’ve got places to be, castles to crash. Try not to trip and crumble in a ditch on your way back, m’kay?”If Pure Vanilla has a response, it’s lost – Shadow Milk is already flying away, the wind whipping at his face and drowning out all but the muffled bleats of the sheep below. The night is closing in fast around him; blissful darkness spreads across the sky as Shadow Milk soars overhead.His Jam tingles in the cold; Shadow Milk’s hand unconsciously reaches up, tracing over the brooch and feeling it warm beneath his touch. Like a pup feeling the hand of its master, it thrums greedily - pushing at him. Pleading. Singing with a silent request that roars in his ears.Shadow Milk ignores it, retracting his hand and setting his sights firmly on the castle ahead.He has already had more than enough of Pure Vanilla for one day.
  
  

    
      
        
        
          1) I'm glad you guys are enjoying; I'm definitely taking the remarks about keeping them true to their personalities to heart. Let me know if anything veers, I re-watch cutscenes to try and keep them as close as possible while putting them in Situations.2) Like the comments. Love the comments. More comments are good. Comments are intrinsically tied to my motivation and speed. Please give comments, please, ple3) I am completely unrelated to this artist and the plot is completely separated from this work but I found this Shadowvanilla animation that goes incredibly hard and it only has ~300 views so if you like it go comment on it too because for some reason it plays in my head whenever I'm writing so I think it should get at least partial credit herehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-VjrZWGeX4'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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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