Cecil Noel Valentine

"Well, this isn't good, is it?"

## MEMORY 1 - Home(sick)

Cecil's early life was filled with general unpleasantness. Despite healthy and kind parents, Cecil was born with some sort of illness unknown to every doctor they asked. This illness progressed to the point of being periods of being bedridden at times, as well as being generally frail. Due to this, his parents kept him home at all times, instead pushing him into becoming knowledgeable through their large collection of books (he couldn't do much else anyways, so he did so). Cecil was hospitalized for a time after he had stopped breathing during his sleep. "A miracle he lived in the first place," One doctor had said, and he couldn't help but agree. Eventually, he was able to go home... Home.

His father wasn't home often due to his job (of which Cecil holds little knowledge), and his mother stayed at home to care for him. She, alongside his oddly inlaid intelligence, started to create a list of things for him to do when he was healthy. Going to the park, eating at a restaurant, playing on swing sets, dancing in the rain... anything and everything. He knew deep down that his mother treated him more like a friend than her child; however, he never minded. She was his first (and only) friend, and that was all he needed. Still, he wished his dad was home a bit more, for the sake of keeping his mother happy.

When Cecil had reached the age of six, his father gifted him his old camera. This camera quickly became incredibly important to him, as it allowed him to experience the outside world without leaving home. He would open the windows, and put the dainty little camera through the window, using it to really *see* what he was missing. For months, he did this, until an opportunity struck.

"Cecil, I'm going out for a bit!"

Those were the only words he needed to hear from his mother. Like any dumb little child would do, he opened the window and carefully left his house, to take some pictures of the forest. All those warnings about the dangers outside... he disregarded them completely. All he wanted was to take some pictures, to fulfill that list he made with his mom. Pictures of the forest, photos of an old and decrepit swing set... He craved anything that *wasn't* his dingy old house with the worn out books.

There, in the forest with the pretty pink trees, he met another boy. Tamari Thaymine, that's what he said his name was. Tamari was Cecil's *second* friend... someone he, surprisingly, got along extremely well with. Tamari was what Cecil *craved;* freedom. The boy with the earring had been on Chorus for his sister's wedding, but... Tamari was never one for fancy events and their stuffy suits. Neither was Cecil, who physically couldn't go. They were friends, and even though their friendship was just shallow kid stuff, Cecil treasured it more than anything. He never wanted to go home again, after experiencing his first taste of the outside world's sweetness, so... he just didn't. He went with Tamari, to his sister's wedding. Got given a suit, and a little flower headpiece. He was considered as Tamari's plus one.

Everything, at first, was fine. The wedding was going *fine.* Cecil, for once, felt healthy and happy and like he was alive... but no one's roots will ever leave them forever. Cecil was still sick, and being exposed to all of these people very well would make him worse. Once the reception started, he found Tamari, and together they left to go to the forest again. That place felt safe to Cecil, where his own body wouldn't come back to poison his futile happiness. This all would end just as fast as it started, when he felt something *wrong.* The air was constricting, and it was so *loud,* and he couldn't see. His limbs felt like jelly, and everything felt so, so *painful.*

Cecil never should've gone to the forest.

## MEMORY 2 - Reborn and Reloaded (Burnout)

Upon awakening, he was rightly confused. His surroundings were completely different, and his body was *also* not his own. Suddenly his skin had this purple tone, and he had horns and a tail and this was *not* who he was. Yet, he felt... healthy. More than healthy. He felt *strong*, like he could actually run and dance and skip and sing. He could finally reach the top of the bookshelf...! Well, he would be able to if he was home. Which he was, quite obviously, not. With time, this fact sunk in. He realized he was alone, on Terrian (which he had never been on before), and all he had was his wedding attire and his dad's camera. A body he wasn't used to, all his birthmarks now a bright teal, even glowing... which surely must've been a trick of the light, of course!

Slowly, but surely, he began to adapt. Finding shelter where he could, hiding from the rain by placing himself under the convenient trees littered all over the planet (he learned his lesson after standing outside too long one day... safe to say, it left some scars), and doing what he deemed necessary for survival. Someone had a jacket around their waist? He would take it, and they wouldn't notice. Someone looked away from their food for a second? Well, food is food... but what Cecil really stole was information, whether that was from stealing people's books or eavesdropping, he sure hadn't cared. He wanted to know everything he could, because one day even the smallest little fact could come in handy. Years upon years he did this, all without the knowledge of just how long it had been, or how old he truly was at this point.

Cecil, after one day having been caught taking someone's pocket watch, found himself at a field with a few trees and flowers. Beneath one of those trees was a jellyfish girl, who was obviously *not* meant to be there. Despite knowing that the water wouldn't be a pleasant sensation, and that he very well might be stung, he picked up the jellyfish and took her to the river nearby. This was a good decision in the end, as now Cecil had made a third friend: Cordelia. He and Cordelia quickly became friends (as they had no one else), and managed to construct a house... somehow! Their lives were going great, or at least they were in his opinion. He had a roof over his head, a friend, and was *healthy.* Even though the cows they had barely managed to wrangle always stared at him, or he would accidentally dip his hands too far when handling his crops and sting himself with the wet soil, or the loneliness that just would never ever stop clawing into his heart- he was happy.

Cordelia was like his sister, someone to protect despite all their bickering. She was basically the person who made him real again. She gave him his birthday, his outfits, his... his... hm. He didn't really know what Cordelia ever *did.* Their friendship, after all, was made out of desperation for social interaction. They didn't really know each other as well as he had hoped, but then again, it's not like there was much choice there. She would just forget everything anyways.

Day by day, the thoughts of home increased. Where he had come from, who he was, why the color pink reminded him of a boy in a forest whose face he couldn't recall, or why he had such an aversion to eye contact, and just generally just had questions. These questions remained unanswered, out of fear of an answer he didn't like... after all, he barely liked who he himself was at the present moment, why make it worse? He had been given a second chance, by the Aberration. To be who he wanted to be. Strong, free, alive... He had been reborn, his soul reloaded with possibility. He could be what he wanted, who he wanted, when, where, why.

Why would he ever fight that?

## MEMORY 3 - Butterflies (Hide and Seek)

When he started to meet other people, through the events put in motion by people he hadn't ever known, the nightmares began.

His sleep was plagued, most nights. People being hurt. Himself being hurt. Himself hurting other people. Cordelia. Himself. Tamari. Orpheus. Really, his mind would take anyone it could. Sometimes he was kind to himself, though, and would relive the good memories. Memories of the pink forest, with Tamari. Taking pictures of the forest, his first time climbing a tree, listening to his friend talk about just anything... It was nice.

Niceties never last, though.

The forest in his head became covered in crimson instead of pretty pink and magenta, innocent games of hide and seek transforming into terrifying games of life and death. Never was he the seeker, no, he was always hiding from Tamari. Tamari was never good at hide and seek, but Cecil was. Cecil was good at listening to Tamari's footsteps, and thinking about the most reasonable places the other boy would hide. The brains and the brawn, they were.

Tamari was never good at hide and seek, so why then would he always manage to find Cecil? Why did he always smile when finding the enderian? Why would his own mind play tricks on him like this? To Cecil, it never made sense. What would cause such outlandish visions in his sleep? It's not like he had experienced anything that would cause such recurring sights.

The freedom he felt from Tamari, the strength, it was like it was taken away from him. His face and Tamari's began to become similar in his head, they were like the same person. That freedom his new body had given him, was the freedom Tamari had made him feel. The strength Tamari had was like the strength he acquired during his metamorphosis from a sickly child to his current state. Like a butterfly. Like the butterflies at Tamari's sister's wedding. The butterflies he got in his stomach when he looked at Tamari, fluttering, fleeting.

You'd think at some point Cecil would realize all of these came together in some sort of messy pile of longing and loneliness, but no. He had never been good at recognizing signals, after all.

## MEMORY 4 - Picture Perfect (Identity)

Cecil's identity, to him, isn't something he likes. He dislikes how cowardly he is, how unhelpful he is, how *lonely* he is. He hates the photos of himself that he has, the way his mouth looks so wobbly and uncertain. Wasn't he strong? Well, at least, he put on that farce during the war.

The war.

He didn't do anything. He just sat in a little room making potions, and feeling bad for himself. Feeling bad for himself is common nowadays. Feeling bad over his "role" (or lack thereof) in everything, feeling worthless, feeling bad for feeling bad at all. Through all of this, he watched these other people love and support each other and all *he* had was Cordelia, and *Cordelia* never remembered anything anyways. He had no one. *No one.* It made him angry.

Looking at himself through a reflection through a shard of glass, he noticed just how *bad* it was. Eyebags, messy hair, a fresh wound on his cheek, he was just generally disheveled. Far more than he wished to be. It was like this glass window was himself, and he was breaking himself into the shards of his own self and just being forced to *stare.* Stare at everything he didn't want to confront. The parts of himself he stole from everyone else he knew; his dad's anger, his mother's crying, Tamari's strength, Cordelia's inaction... he hated it. He hated the picture that showed in his eyes. He hated how he was starting to feel sick again, or how fucked up his physical state was. He didn't want to think of the way his limbs had stretched themselves over the span of a few days. He didn't want to think about why he felt so much *older.*

Cecil didn't want to be what he saw. He wanted to be *anything else. Anyone else...* Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He was always good at stealing, so why didn't he just steal someone else's person? And, oh, he loved Tamari. The *nice* Tamari that sometimes showed up in his dreams as someone who aged alongside himself, perpetually in motion. Perpetually real in his mind, a perfect reflection of the boy who hated suits. He kept the memory of Tamari alive, even through all of the pain he caused through his games of hide and seek, so he owed Cecil at least this little thing. So he dyed his hair, changed his outfit, and put on some new jewelry. That internal anger that he inherited from his dad would finally turn out to be useful.

When he looked at himself again, he wasn't quite there. Sure, he kind of looked like Tamari, but there was something missing. He grabbed his dad's old camera, and took a picture. It was his smile, filled with nervousness. *"There's no need to be nervous",* Tamari's voice rang in his head. *"You're perfect now."* Tamari's voice was like a blanket, soothing him from the cold reality of just what he was doing. When he looked again after rubbing his eyes, the smile in the picture was no longer crooked or wobbly, instead a cynical grin. Cecil Noel Valentine didn't have to be Cecil Noel Valentine anymore. He was now, at least to himself, Tamari's mirror image. His other half.

## MEMORY 5 - Out of Sight (Floating)

After a while of being stuck with nothing but books and your own thoughts, you start to really look back on things.

For example, "What is love?" A question answered by many and unanswered by more. To Cecil, love is whatever he wants it to be. Love is the warm feeling in his stomach he got when he looked at Tamari's bright smile during the wedding, or when he imagines what the gentle grasp of fluttering metamorphoses could have been like on Tamari's physical form, before... before. When you're alone with your thoughts, you really look back on *before,* Cecil has learned. Back to his parents, who he *thought* he loved, but isn't so sure about now. His mom was never really like a mom, and his dad...

He thinks back to the woods. The run down playground, with the kiddie slides and slightly rusted swing set and the park benches. The trees were always stuck in slight motion, their leaves always swaying back and forth, back and forth, like the way he and Tamari would sway their legs back and forth when sitting on a branch of one of the tall pretty purple-leaved trees. He remembers the way Tamari would mess with his hair, call him a "dork" for the way his reading glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and made his eyes look bigger than they really were, the way his heart rate would go from a serene river to a whirlpool when Tamari started to count his freckles-

But none of it was even real... was it?

They were all just- *dreams.* Tamari had been gone for a long, long time now. The vision in Cecil's head is *fantasy. What he wanted. **What he craved.*** Love, attention, *someone.* The dreams of Tamari, the dreams of his mom (and sometimes even a dream where his father wasn't this malicious nightmarish figure, instead a good and honest man), it all just pointed at him being lonely. Wanting to be loved. It was like all of these thoughts and feelings were in a bottle, and every little thing that happened on Terrian would shake and shake and *shake* the bottle before finally time forced the cap off and the contents all came out, spilling everywhere and being a hassle to clean up. For himself, for the people around him, for... for? Did anyone really *care?* Of course not... Everyone who cared enough to try to help him were all *gone.*

Cecil felt like he was floating, in the vastness of space. After all, no one ever looks up there. Sure, there's travel between Terrian and Chorus, but what of the in-between? It was... reminiscent of recent events. All these other people he didn't know, all divided clearly and cleanly. And here he was, forgotten in the chaos. He loved and hated it... loved the way he didn't have to partake in inflicting pain to others, hated the way he didn't do anything about it. He really was just out of sight, and out of mind. Infinity. Nothing, everything. ...If he is nothing, then he could be anything. Potential inlaid. What a positive thought? He's not good at positivity. The thought of having potential that he might *waste* was upsetting. He didn't want to be a failure... not to the little he has left.

Not again.

## MEMORY 6 - Calling (Synchronize)

"The cookies have persimmon, Cecil, you can't have any. You'll get sick!" His mother scolded him one day. "You're sick enough as is, we don't need *more* problems to add under your belt!" Despite her tone, she smiled, making sure to be careful as possible when she lightly pushed her child away.

The memory made his heart feel like a furnace. It burned.

As he stood in his kitchen, the smell of freshly-baked biscuits forced a smile on his face. Surely his mother would be proud that he learned to bake just like her. Surely his father would be proud of the little home he had created for himself, although... perhaps not as happy with his lack of social life. After all, random chorus inhabitants who occasionally teleport into the library most likely wouldn't count as friends, and they're the only source of conversation he had.

Maybe he would go down to Terrian, if only for the sake of making sure people knew he was still alive up on the moon. Then again, no one missed him, so it may just prove to make him wish for isolation further... Ah, such a conundrum. Well, he had all the time in the world, so why not? He missed green grass, blue skies, and the song of the wind and insects. Chorus was of course beautiful, but in a different way. It was usually quiet, rather than the hustle and bustle of the planet, but sometimes a boy just needs some white noise.

Although it wasn't the symphony that was Terrian, the music disc playing from upstairs was still enough to entertain Cecil's futile dreams. One step became two, becoming six and soon a waltz. Oh, the irony of it all. What he once saw as something disgusting was something he craved now, something he missed dearly and wouldn't let himself grasp. He thought of Terrian as something of pollution to his mind, ruining his memory of Tamari and being a blip in his own goals, yet... he wanted it so.

Cecil's entire life was like waltzing around other people, but now he wished to just have a dance partner to call his name.

## Trivia

* As Cecil never was aware of his actual birthday, Cordelia had made one for him using his surname as inspiration.
* His favorite hobby is gardening!
* He likes to put finely ground peanuts into his coffee.
* He is allergic to persimmon.
* Cecil has extremely good memory
* He does not like cats.
* His hands are... triple jointed???
* His favorite color is orange.
* His last name is from his mother's side, rather than his father's.
* His favorite school class would be Chemistry.
* His "image song" is Bug by Kairiki Bear.
* Cecil's favorite animal is the peacock.
* Can say 💀 out loud. He does not know this fact
* He has never broken a bone