The Novel

They were on their way to their next destination. Some backstreets rats gathered nearby, as they usually did; Mephistopheles came screeching to a halt, as it usually did; the sinners poured out of the bus to beat the shit out of them, as they usually did; Sinclair fumbled and took a metal bat to the head, which happens occasionally (he swore Heathcliff pointed and laughed at him this time), and as he lied there on the ground, dying, he didn’t suspect anything was wrong.

He would die. Dante would revive him. And then he’d get back up and start fighting again. That was how it worked.

He did not expect to wake up in a bed. Upon returning to consciousness, Sinclair heard voices of others talking amongst each other (as he usually did), but they weren’t the voices of his fellow sinners. No, they reminded him more of schoolboys-

What?!

Sinclair tried to leap out of bed, but two things happened in quick succession:

1) he realized he had woken up in the top bunk of a bunk bed, and had moved with the expectation he was not in a bunk bed

2) he collapsed to the floor in an undignified heap.

Upon standing up and dusting himself off, Sinclair carefully scanned the room. There was not a familiar face in sight. The room was big, like a camp cabin. The few people loitering here wore clothes that seemed more fitting of nest-dwellers than those from the backstreets, but still struck him as unfamiliar. He also realized his halberd was nowhere to be seen, and was immediately gripped by panic.

“If this is some kind of prank, it’s not funny!” Sinclair yelled to anyone who could hear. The white boys gave him some strange looks, but otherwise didn’t seem concerned at all.

A sinking feeling came over Sinclair. This was too elaborate to be the work of his fellow sinners. What if… what if something had gone wrong in the revival process?

“Dante…” whimpered Sinclair, as if hoping this was all some kind of simple mistake, and saying the manager’s name would make them realize and come running, and he’d hear ticking, and then everything would be normal again.

Nothing happened.

#### Future Memories

It is a strange thing to live your life in a dream. Y ou can feel the call of the waking world outside. Fragments always floating or fighting their way through. You feel your limbs, unable to move- your eyes, unable to open. Here, a bright flash of orange charges across your vision, there, a pale figure reaching upwards.

There- a pair of perfectly manicured hands pull back the hood to a cloak revealing a face like-

Now theres arms lifting a black figure, you, up from a horror of spikes. you see a young boy, no- many, with an amulet. you see a mass of bodies grow larger and larger and larger and-

You see your body fall. Theres two boys. A fox. A cat. Two cats? No cats- one cat. An army. No army. I didn't look last time. Theres a bat behind you. No, a shadow. You look again. You're caught in something-no you will be. Your body is contorted.

How long will I live?

A strange machine and a cosmonaut in yellow pressed together. Someone waves you over. You've fallen again. Polka dots? Please?   More blood. A girl in a dark room.

Till the break of dawn

A hand pulls a knife from someones chest, or does it force it in? The chest is not yours. The hand is yours. The chest is yours. The hand is not yours. You've never had a friend. You're dying by his side. He asked you something he's asking you something. He will ask you something.

You are called to the world again, no- you will be? No you were. You feel the full force of your breath in your lungs. You open your eyes. Your eyes are opened.

You're in an arena and a man stands before you. Again. He begins to sign in greeting. Deep from within you something begins to pour

Stanley Parable 44.3%

Saul Goodman 55.7%

its a strange thing to live your life in a dream.

#### A Peculiar Alliance

The doorbell rang.

For all intents and purposes, it was a completely normal, average occurrence. But in that instance, on that day, it made Artemis’ heart pick up speed. That sing-song ring of bell meant that his final teammate had arrived, and the real planning could begin.

Artemis cast a glance at the orange tabby cat that stared at him from the corner, observing him like it was sizing him up.

At least they’d have two people strategizing.

As it turned out, Prosperity was not what Artemis was expecting.

He knew the boy was from a wealthy family, one so - well, prosperous - that it rivaled his own. Clearly, this boy would be the pinnacle of affluence and poise, like himself. Clearly, he would have a mind that Artemis could utilize in this war.

It was not clear. When Prosperity walked through the door of the study, escorted by Butler, the first thing Artemis noticed was the… less than elegant way the boy was dressed.

A plain red t-shirt (Just the word made Artemis recoil), jeans that seemed a size too big for him, and worn sneakers, one of which had the laces all but untied.

Then, there was the boy’s general look. Black hair sticking up in all directions like the ruffled feathers of a crow someone had tried to strangle, pale like he’d never even seen the sun, hunched over himself like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

This was going to be a disaster.

Artemis quickly dislodged the thought from his mind. Even if Prosperity didn’t look the part, he could still very much aid him in this war, and if he couldn’t, Artemis was still a Fowl. And Fowls never lose.

“A pleasure to meet you, Master Redding.” He held out a hand for Prosperity to shake, and the other boy took it. His hand was…eerily warm.

“Just Prosper is fine.” The boy said with a wince, as if being referred to in such a formal manner caused him physical pain.

“Prosper then.” Artemis retracted his hand and smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles on his jacket, covertly wiping off the sweat from Prosperity’s oddly warm hand. “I’m sure you are aware of the circumstances we find ourselves in, yes?”

“A…war, right? Or something like that.” Prosperity offered. Artemis nodded, like a teacher confirming the answer to a very obvious question.

“Exactly right. And, as luck would have it, we find ourselves allies in this war.” He stalked over to his laptop, and Prosperity followed, casting a cautious glance at Butler over his shoulder.

“Although we are not the most… physical human beings, we have strength in numbers. As of now, we are the only trio in this battle.” Artemis explained.

“Not the most physical?” Prosper echoed, cutting short his glance around the study to focus on Artemis. Something about it seemed to make his arched nose wrinkle ever so slightly, and Artemis found himself just a tad offended. “How would you know that?”

“Well, judging by your general physique and personality you’ve displayed thus far, I’d assume that you aren’t one to enjoy strenuous activity.” Artemis explained. Prosperity turned the lightest shade of pink.

“I mean… yeah , but it’s kinda rude to assume.” He said, head slightly bowed. Artemis ignored the other boy’s embarrassment, preening under the satisfaction that he’d been correct. He already knew he had been, but it was good to get confirmation.

“I, uh, I like your cat.” Prosperity interrupted Artemis’ preening, pointing at the orange tabby.

Artemis blinked. He’d forgotten it was there.

“That?” He crossed his arms. “That’s not mine. Apparently, it’s our third teammate.”

Prosperity was silent for a while, staring at the orange tabby. Then, he turned to Artemis and said, “That’s a cat.”

“Yes, I am aware.” Artemis said pointedly. “I didn’t arrange teams. Anyway, we should start by strategizing. I-”

Prosperity walked right by Artemis, crouching down to the cat’s level. He reached a hand up to pet it, but it hissed at him.

“Where’d you find him?” The boy asked over his shoulder.

“Nowhere, he just…showed up.” Artemis shrugged. “Listen, we don’t have all day to sit around petting feral cats. I’m not sure about you, but I’d quite like to win this war.”

Prosperity muttered something under his breath and stood, walking away from the cat. He looked at it over his shoulder, but not in the usual way someone looked at a cat. It was the same way he’d looked at Butler when he first walked in, that suspicious, cautious look.

The two spent a great deal of time mulling over their competitors, trying to figure out who would be susceptible to what. Artemis sifted through files on his laptop, Prosperity leaned over his shoulder to read them. When Artemis found out the other boy was only skimming them, he reprimanded him and demanded he read the files aloud, to ensure that the information remained fresh in his mind.

“White Boy S-” Prosperity cut himself off, squinting down at the screen. “What is that word? S…squirking? Anyway, one of them is called White Boy Squirking on the Beat.”

Artemis leaned back in his seat and hummed.

“What does the file say about him?” He raised a thin brow at Prosper.

“Hardly anything.” The boy shrugged. “Just that he’s white and he’s…squirking. I- wait, is that Jerma?”

“No,” Artemis sighed. “But they do have a striking resemblance.”

“...alright. Wait, you know who Jerma is?” Prosper looked up at him from the floor, Artemis’ laptop in his lap. Artemis insisted that Prosperity sit in an actual chair or stand, but the boy somehow always ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Unfortunately.” Artemis’ brow pinched. “Anyway, who’s the next competitor?”

“Captain Kirk and Wheatley, apparently.” Prosper answered quickly. “And…some guy. Says here that he really hates musicals.”

The orange tabby, who had been sitting contemplatively in the corner for the last half hour, slinked over to Prosperity and set its front paws on his thigh, looking over at what was on the screen.

Prosper, after a moment, leaned away, as if it had taken a moment for the thought to enter his mind.

Artemis observed the interaction with interest. What was it about this wild cat that unnerved Prosperity so much?

“Are you allergic to fur, Prosper?” He asked quickly.

The other boy blinked, startled by the sudden question. Even the cat seemed confused.

“Uh, no?” He answered, brow raised.

Artemis hummed. Without a word, he stood and walked out the door.

“I’m going to retrieve something, an old pet project of mine.” He said before Prosper could ask.

Prosper sighed, leaning against the wall and setting the laptop on the ground.

“I guess it’s just you and me now, huh buddy?” He said to the orange tabby, reaching down to pet it between its ears. It hissed at him, and he quickly retracted his hand.

“Are you sure this thing works?” Prosper prodded the mechanical collar experimentally, head cocked. The device had three tiny bulbs on front, and seemed like it would lock into place once closed.

“Yes,” Artemis huffed with that same somewhat-offense from earlier. “In fact, this thing, if my suspicions are correct, is going to help us win this tournament.”

Artemis plucked the mechanical collar off the desk and approached the orange cat.

The moment it spotted the device in his hand, it darted to the door. Prosper, much to Artemis’ surprise, quickly closed it before the cat could escape.

Artemis, too preoccupied with wrangling the device around the cat’s neck, didn’t question how Prosper, a boy who seemed to have little physical prowess, was able to move so fast.

After lots of wrestling with the feral cat and numerous scratches, the boys were able to fit the mechanical collar around its neck.

The two sat on the floor, panting after their efforts. Prosper in particular seemed winded, forehead shiny with sweat. He was quick to wipe it off as Artemis cleared his throat.

“Now,” He turned to the cat. “Let’s see if this old machine still works.”

The orange cat reached a hand leg up to kick at the collar, tried tucking its chin to its chest in an attempt to bite it off, then hissed to itself.

It looked up at Artemis, the pupils of its bright green eyes slitted with anger.

“Looks like I’ll have to burn this too.” The cat grumbled. With every syllable, the bulbs on the front of the collar blinked an electric blue.

Prosper jumped in surprise, while Artemis did all he could not to grin triumphantly.

“So it does work. Very good.” He cleared his throat and addressed the cat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Artemis Fowl, and this,” He nodded to Prosper. “is my associate, Prosperity Redding. Who might you be?”

The orange cat glanced suspiciously between the boys before answering.

“Firestar.” He stood tall, ears pricked.

“A pleasure to meet you, Firestar.” Artemis nodded. Prosper looked between him and the cat, deep in thought, like he was having a conversation with himself.

To Artemis’ delight, Firestar was quite the strategist. He wasn’t sure how a feral cat had so much knowledge in leadership and battle, but he was pleased to know that Firestar had the experience.

Prosper, who had gotten used to the talking cat, leaned against Artemis’ desk while Firestar sat perched on top of it. Artemis had decided to use a pen and paper instead of his laptop, as he thought something like a computer may be difficult for Firestar to understand.

“Garfield shouldn’t be that hard to beat.” Prosper mused. He sounded oddly disconnected, like he was only paying half-attention to what was going on.

“A kittypet.” Firestar shook his head, like he was disappointed in Garfield. “I almost feel bad for him.”

“What reason do you have to pity him?” Artemis raised a brow, and Prosper’s fist clenched. “He gets pampered and fed human food, sleeping and doing as he pleases.”

“Who would want to live with a bunch of Twolegs their whole life?” Firestar’s ear flicked, and Prosper’s brow furrowed. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Artemis waved a dismissive hand, and Prosper swallowed thickly.

Artemis cast a peculiar glance at him, and Firestar followed his gaze.

“Prosperity?” He leaned forward a bit. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine.” Prosper shook his head and forced a reassuring smile. It looked like more of a grimace.

“Are you sure?” Firestar cocked his furry head. “You look pale. Well, paler than usual.”

“And you seem to be sweating quite a lot.” Artemis glanced down at Prosper’s clenched fist. The boy’s knuckles were white.

Prosper snapped at Artemis. Literally. He lunged at him headfirst, mouth wide open. The other boy jumped back in time for Prosper’s teeth to clack shut.

With a hiss, Firestar leaped on Prosper’s back, clawing at him.

“Vexatious feline-” The boy grumbled, and Artemis paused.

It certainly was Prosper’s voice, and yet it wasn’t. It was more posh and sophisticated, with a strange accent that didn’t sound like it came from any country Artemis was familiar with.

With an angry yell, Prosper reached back and grabbed Firestar by the scruff of the neck, hurling him into the wall. The cat made a high wheezing sound as the air was knocked out of him. Nevertheless, he landed on his feet, but not without a broken leg.

At the sound of the commotion, the door was thrown open, and Butler stepped inside. At the sight of Prosper trying to take a chunk out of Artemis’ neck, he quickly apprehended the boy as he kicked and shouted insults that sounded like they were from a good couple centuries ago.

To Artemis’ horror, Prosper began to bend Butler’s arm backwards with relative ease. The bodyguard’s eye widened, but with a quick chop to the vagus nerve, Prosper was limp.

Firestar was muttering curses as Artemis tended to him, mind racing with explanations and possibilities.

“Butler,” Artemis called after a moment of gathering up what little composure he could find. “Escort our guest to the cell downstairs, the one used for Captain Short.”

“Y-yes, Artemis.” Butler sighed, looking down at the ragdoll of a boy in his arms. He seemed hesitant, but complied, tossing Prosper over his shoulder and carried him out of the room.

#### Some Worth In Life Chapter 1 [Hold; Sway]

Stanley had been alone for a while.

He didn't know how much time had passed in the Parable before now. Time is hard to keep track of, especially when you're in a timeloop.

But he knew it'd been a while. At least a few years. In there, he didn't have much companionship. There was the Narrator, yes, but he didn't always have a physical form. There was the bucket, but Stanley knew it wasn't truly sentient; just a comforting presence.

There wasn't much for companionship, and he'd been alone for a while.

So was it so strange that he wanted to have a friend?

He looks at the man he had been 'teamed up' with-- Cesare, the Somnambulist-- gangly looking, bug-like in his movements, and with an immense amount of makeup underneath of his eyes. He is silent, just like Stanley.

He had also somehow predicted the loss Stanley had felt; at the hands of that lawyer. He had, with stunning precision, just... said it.

[How did you know that?] Stanley signs with curiosity. [That I would lose? How did you know what my result would be?]

Cesare smiles, and it is an odd sort of grin; it feels uncanny, yet Stanley can tell that the intent behind it is fully genuine.

-Time is always for me.-  a title card says, flashing across Stanley's vision as Cesare opens his mouth, and vanishing as he closes it.

Stanley blinks in surprise, and then... well, he doesn't quite think about it, or understand it, but he nods. Stranger things have happened in the Parable.

Stanley has been alone for a while, and so he extends a hand.

[So, we're together now.] he signs with a smile, looking over at the other revived teams. [Let's hang out a bit. Say, do you know the results of this poll?]

-We. Not enough. 22.7-

Stanley nods a tired sigh, and then sits down on the ground. He pats the ground next to him, beckoning Cesare over with a grin.

[So, is this sort of thing weird for you?] he asks.

-There are strange things... Many things. Another axis.-

[Yeah, I get what you're saying. The Narrator's weird for me, but... yeah. Different area.]

-Narrator?-

[Yep. Loud, British voice that trys to control me. Also known as Narry, but that's... that's more of a 'me' term for him.]

Cesare hmms, thinking. And then--

-Have you control, still? Are you?-

Stanley looks at him, and then sighs.

[What's yours?] he signs first.

Cesare hmms in a questioning manner.

[You wouldn't ask me something like that if you didn't also have... experience.]

Cesare frowns slightly, and then nods.

-I... have. I have been a what to a him and he has been him through my body. I am not awake. I am not me.-

Stanley nods in soft agreement and sighs.

[It's a bit... well, I'm sure your thing is complicated too, but mine is... also complicated. I... I'm still me. But there are times when... when I am the Player. The Player is me and I am them. And the Narrator guides me. And the Player follows, or resists, and sometimes, I feel like such a... like just a vessel, to them.]

Cesare looks Stanley in the eye and... nods, softly.

Stanley reaches out his hand, and grips Cesare's hand tightly.

The two of them sit in talkative silence as the match drags on. Before they know it, the results are in.

And they are separated.

And alone once more.

#### The Tournament Chapter 7

It was dark, so dark. And Annabeth didn't know where she was.

The room- it was a room- was drenched in inky blackness. She took a moment to get her bearings.

She was on a bed. It felt soft enough. She put a hand on the wall it was up against- wood planks, but they felt unfinished, unsanded.

She noticed she was in different clothes than she last remembered- some kind of pajamas, maybe, but the back felt itchy and a bit stiff. Her feet were bare. She didn't have her dagger- yes, she'd lost it in Tartarus, but her friend Sadie had lent her a wand, which had turned into a dagger- you get it. In either case, she was unarmed.

She experimentally put a foot down on the ground. Carpet, she thought, but the fibers seemed huge.

She got out of the bed and felt around the room. a picture frame here, a curtain there. A seam that seemed to run up and down the length of the entire wall... She tried pushing on it, to no avail.

No light or coins for an Iris message. No phone to try to call Sadie or anyone else. No weapons. No clue where she was.

Just her wits.

She could do this. No problem.

Okay, maybe a little bit of a problem.

#### Some Worth In Life Chapter 2  [My love, oh Love]

They were not enough, just as Cesare had predicted.

Stanley sighed as he awoke at his desk in the Parable.

"Stanley?" the Narrator said immediately. "What was that? Why were you talking to that... gangly emo?"

[His name is Cesare. And we were on a team, you saw that.]

"Hmmph."

[What?] Stanley signed, with a tiny smirk.

"It's... nothing. At least you're out of the tournament now, right? You didn't sign any sort of pleading parting message this time?"

[No. Although, I do have to say, things are getting rather weird over there.] Stanley signed, with half relief and half disappointment. This tournament, strange as it was, had been a welcome reprieve from the monotony of the Parable.

"Yes, indeed. I've got my eye on the match; I'll let you know who the winner is. But for now, can we..." the Narrator prodded.

[Really? Can't we just hang out a bit?]

"I can't... Stanley, you know I can't manifest myself with you." the Narrator muttered with annoyance.

[We can talk.]

"But... but the Story, Stanley! Please? I've missed you, while you were in that... white-boy bracket."

[I-- well, how about this. I've missed you too, and I'd rather do something about it by hanging out, not... doing the Story.]

"Hmmph. I think that--"

[And! I'll spend an entire Tuesday in the Starry Dome, looking at the lights, if we can hang out. One day hanging out, one day looking at the lights.] Stanley signed quickly, almost a bit too quick. He tapped his hand anxiously, as the Narrator was silent.

That was a bit of a risky move, offering to do something for the Narrator. Stanley liked to hold as many cards as he could-- especially when, so much of the time, he barely had access to any. But-- well, the Narrator had been jealous of Stanley's loved ones before. And those were just inanimate objects that the Narrator had given personality to.

Cesare-- Stanley didn't want the Narrator and Cesare to have a bad relationship. And half of that was making sure that the Narrator didn't feel neglected.

"...wait, you would?" the Narrator said, almost disbelieving. It had been a few years since Stanley had done something like this, after all. "I-- well, alright, fine. If you do want to spend time with me, I suppose... yes."

[Cesare's my friend. Or, at least-- well, I don't know if I'll get to see him again, but we made a good team. But you're still my Narrator.] Stanley signs. He smiles. [You're always my Narrator, love.]

The Narrator quieted again, and Stanley was certain that if he had a face, it would be blushing.

"I... well, thank you. I-- I love you too." the Narrator said in his adorable, flustered manner.

Stanley beamed, as he stepped up from his desk and began walking the Parable. That had gone great!

[I'm going to head towards the Mind Control Facility. I want to be able to mess with buttons when I'm not talking.]

"Very well. I suppose... so, Cesare?"

[Yeah, let me tell you about him. He's really nice! A very good friend.]

The Narrator sighed a bit, almost in relief, at the sight of 'friend'.

"Well, I suppose... good for you, Stanley. You made a friend all on your own."

Stanley scrunched his nose a bit at that, but he still walked through the left door.

[Anything more in the tournament?]

"Ah... no, not yet."

[Could you check on Cesare?] Stanley signed as he walked up the stairs.

"Yes. He's at the loser's resort, taking a nap."

Stanley signs nothing for a bit, merely walking over to the keypad and punching in the code.

"... Stanley?"

[Why can't I be there?] he suddenly signed, rather furiously. [Why did you have to drag me back to the Parable?]

"I..."

[I made a friend, Narrator. I only got to know him for a day, really. Why can't I be at the loser's resort?]

"I didn't bring you back, Stanley. Oh, well, I suppose I did a little... but the Parable is a force to be reckoned with."

Stanley grumbled silently as he walked through the door to the Mind Control Facility.

"It's true! Now, look here. It needs me to function in its full capacity, and I did speed things up a tad so that way you wouldn't be stuck out-of-bounds or in limbo; but I didn't... purposely steal you away."

[Well, it--]

"Do you genuinely think I would do that?"

[A little? I mean--]

"Well, I-- I don't know what I'd do, if I was given a full choice, but... I want us both to be happy, Stanley. I want you to be with me, because it makes me happy. But also because... well, you... you do like me, right?"

[Most of the time.] Stanley signed with a slight chuckle.

Stanley went up the elevator into the room with the buttons.

[I don't know how I'd feel if we'd met normally.] he signs as he sits down in a wheely chair. [I don't even know how it'd be possible for us to meet under normal circumstances. I know that I like you. I know I want to be with you. But I also want things to be better.]

The Narrator sighed. "I... I think I understand, Stanley."

Stanley sat at the desk and pressed several of the nearby buttons, allowing himself to get lost in the lovely sensation of the button's clicks and beeps and dings.

After a bit, Stanley looks up in the general direction of the ceiling.

[We are here.] Stanley signs. [It is better, life is better, if we are a 'we'. You are my Narrator.]

"Yes." the Narrator said, with much more tenderness than he often cared to present. "And you are my Stanley."

Stanley smiled, and for the time being, continued to enjoy what he had.

#### The Tournament Chapter 1.

Maggot, you're pulling ahead! Stop this at once! Fight back!

I can't exactly control how many people vote for me! I thought back at him, struggling against the many hands pushing me towards the finish line drawn on the floor of the arena. Last round, I'd been in a big team, all racing towards it. But now, I was alone, and crossing that line meant certain death.

You shouldn't have competed this round! That other boy offered to carry you to the end! You should've taken that offer!

I thought I had a chance! I thought people would vote for the cop!

The beloved cop, maggot, with a far bigger following than you !

Shut up! I stumbled forward as the crowd behind me pushed, hard.

That's it! If you survive this round, you MUST give that other boy a call!

I know! Now help me fight back!

#### The Tournament Chapter 2

Alastor felt the boy's head gently but repeatedly bonk against the window of the carriag- car, they were now called. Foolish boy. Alastor had had to use some of his power to send his opponent, the lawyer, tripping over the finish line, into the row of spikes. The boy- and by extension, Alastor, had survived. But it had been close.

"Shouldn't we pick up Firestar, too?" The boy asked.

"Firestar will meet us at the cabin. He prefers the outdoor space to what he calls our 'monsters'. Additionally, I think it wise to keep you two out of close quarters after your little outburst at the manor," Artemis said.

The guilt rising in the boy tasted sickly sweet- Alastor would have cringed, had he been in control of the boy's face.

"I told you, it wasn't me. It was Alastor."

Alastor didn't regret it one bit.

#### Tournament Chapter 3

I looked down at the small necklace in my hand.

Amulet, maggot. If you can't identify magic when you see it, we've no hope at all.

Amulet, then. It was like a circle, but tied off on the top. It was a pretty golden color I would have to try to replicate with my paints when- if- i got home.

Artemis was holding one, too, and Firestar had allowed one to be fastened around his neck, though he didn't look happy about it.

"Nothings been around my neck since i was a kit," he explained, the hat Artemis had invented flashing as he spoke, "What did you say this would do again, Twoleg?"

"It's a shen amulet. I got them from Percy, who in turn got them from a friend of his. Apparently, they can be used to summon one wearer to another's location. His friends used them to evade a goddess, supposedly. We will use them to tip the scales in our favor."

"How do we do that?" I asked.

"You are aware the matches are all held in separate arenas, yes?" Artemis waited for them to nod, and once they did, he continued, "If one of us gets pushed over the edge, we simply call them to safety before they hit the spikes."

"That's... cheating," I said, uncomfortable.

"It's survival," Artemis said coolly, examining the amulet, "Since you and I are being tossed once again into the fray, I find it necessary to have some assurance that we will make it out alive. Especially after your recent close call."

He was talking about how Alastor had tripped an opponent- the lawyer, Saul Goodman- sending him tumbling into the spikes just before I'd reached the finish line.

He speaks true, maggot. We must look out for our own survival above all other things.

I wasn't thrilled to agree to any plan Al liked, but before I could say anything, Firestar spoke up, "I think it's a good idea. I have a clan I need to get back to, and all of us have lost before."

So that was that, I guess.

Maggot, what's that in his hand? A fourth amulet? Inquire.

"Who's the fourth amulet for?"

"Your friend Alastor," Artemis said simply.

We are not friends!

"But he's trapped in my body?"

That too, maggot. Well observed.

"Clearly, whoever is running this death match holds us in some favor," Artemis said, "I'm sure they would let a small thing like that slide-"

A small thing! I've been trapped in here for 13 years!

"and allow us to simply enter your Prince Alastor as a separate competitor. I'm willing to bet they have some sway over reality within the arenas- you've noticed the faceless hoards? how it's impossible to leave the ring during the match?- they may even allow the two of you to separate for the duration of the round." Artemis tossed me the neckla- Amulet, maggot!- the amulet, which i fumbled, but caught before it hit the ground.

"Just put it around Alastor's neck before the match begins, and ensure all of our survival."

A thought struck me.

"What about Percy? Does he get one?"

"Percy can hold his own quite well- he's one of the few competitors who have never actually lost. Besides, I hear a certain competitor is being revived thanks to a favor. He'll have no trouble this round, at least."

In the distance, the horn blared signaling us to return to the cabin.

"Keep this a secret, will you? It won't do to have our ace in the hole revealed to the other competitors. We can say they're... friendship necklaces. That is something children do, right Prosperity?" Artemis said.

"I wouldn't know," I said, "But sure," I added reluctantly. "Secret."

"I'm not a kit," Firestar seemed to scowl, "But secret it is."

Artemis smiled- Al thought he looked rather like a vampyre- and the three of us turned and started the walk back towards the cabin.

#### Tournament Chapter 4,

Artemis allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. This round had passed, and they hadn't even needed to use their ace in the hole. He himself had finished in third. Third! His assumption that this mystery competitor- Xigbar, the one who had showed up out of nowhere- would pull away the majority of the vote had been entirely correct. Shame, though. Two times over the edge now, there was no way he was coming back to shield them a second time.

He pushed himself off of the dirt floor of the arena where he'd fallen onto his back- the faceless hoard pushing him had suddenly vanished, and all of the strength he had been using to resist their shoves had carried him backward all at once. He brushed off his pants and suit jacket, and then picked some stray pieces of gravel out from the palms of his hands. Now, free from the threat of death, he took some time to look around at this new arena.

It was different than what he remembered. Previously, it had been like a Colosseum, all arches and stone, with an open top that let in the light of day.

That had been before the elimination rounds began. Now, it resembled a sports stadium. Huge, modern, and dark. The roof of the stadium was covered, the only light coming from powerful spotlights behind each competitor. During the round, it had been largely blocked by the hoards, but now they shone brightly, illuminating the sudden drop into the pit. Prosperity had informed him it contained spikes, that's how close he had gotten to being pushed over- close enough to peer into it's depths.

Percy had walked over to the edge and was looking down, seeming confused.

Artemis wasn't the kind to peek at crime scene photos. He wasn't one for morbidity. But if there's one thing he was, it was curious.

"Is something strange?" Artemis said, walking to Percy's side.

Percy pointed down into the pit, and Artemis obligingly peered down.

"Ah. I see. That is peculiar." He commented.

Xigbar wasn't down there. Which was odd, as both he and Percy- and Qifrey, the wizard- had seen him tumble over the edge.

"Is- is that his blood?" Artemis stared at the color of the spikes.

"Not unless his blood is hot pink," Percy said, "And besides, it's not just there. Look."

Artemis looked. He was right. The pattern of hot pink spikes repeated, dotting the pit like... like polka dots.

"Odd. Was it like that last time?"

"I didn't look last time."

Artemis fingered the amulet around his neck, thinking.

Odd indeed.

#### Chaos to Sow

 It wasn't the first move Xigbar had pulled like this. Especially not after that last tournament he'd found himself in. Only difference is now, the blood wasn't solely on his hands. He wasn't personally executing his opponents. That was all controlled by the crowd. A bloodthirsty, screaming mass of people. So many of them wanted him, specifically, to die.

 Like that'd ever happen. As if.

 He didn't come this far just to get killed by something this inconsequential. But then again… he'd been killed before. It never kept him down long.

 The looks on all the others' faces when they realized he wasn't dead the first time were priceless. He hadn't even needed to say anything, just give them a nonchalant, one handed wave as he hovered completely unharmed over the spikes. What were they expecting? You can't exactly kill someone with spacial manipulation powers by throwing them into a pit.

 The Showrunner – whoever they were – was furious with him. They had to be. Every single time Xigbar was supposed to die but didn't had to throw a wrench into their plans. Honestly, he found it hilarious. The difference in the people running these things was insane. The first one couldn't have been more clearly on his side, leaving him messages encouraging him to take out his opponents (or, in one case, a briefcase of cash to pay the other guy off. Something about him being too hard to kill.) and even using his name as a sort of battle cry. He could hear whoever it had been in the crowd on occasion, still rooting for him.

 This new round had him being pushed to the edge far faster than the others. Before, it was close enough that when he fell, he was able to drag someone down with him, or at least make them stumble enough to fall on their own. It threw him off, if only slightly. Enough to just teleport himself out of the arena instead of hover. He only went as far as the cabin; nowhere else was reachable, even for him.

 He lounged on one of the rafters, not bothering enough to get up onto the ceiling like how he normally hung out here. One leg dangled into the air freely. Xigbar was sure there would be questions when the others got back. Or, at least, when what was left of the others got back. In the meantime, he relaxed in the quiet moment before the tense atmosphere overtook the cabin again.

 The tense atmosphere he created.

 It was obvious that at this point, had he not inserted himself into this tournament, and had he not kept bringing himself back into it, no one would be dead. The blood wasn't directly on his hands, but it still kinda was. Blood adjacent.

 But it's not like he cared all that much. He'd done far worse in his life. It was just mildly annoying when no one would talk to him. It's not like he was the only one cheating, anyway. There was that weird quartet; the three kids and the cat. Why were they even teamed up with a cat, anyway? It had some weird vibes about it, for a random feral cat. Not to mention it seemed to hate him in particular. Or, at the very least, seemed to distrust him more than anything.

 On occasion, he could hear those four discussing their plans. If he cared enough, he could easily eavesdrop on them. Ferreting out secrets and plans was something he was particularly good at, after all. It just wasn't interesting enough, and it wouldn't help him. As much as The Showrunner seemed to hate him, they loved their little 'Team Lit', or so they were called. As much as he would've liked to dispose of such strong competitors, there's no way he'd be able to. Cheating like that would end badly for him.

 Xigbar knew it was a battle he'd ultimately lose, but he didn't mind. He was really just here for some entertainment, after all. He already had one tournament crown, he didn't need another.

 In the meantime, it would be funny to watch as much chaos as he could possibly sow.

#### This snippet i forgot to add to Tournament

The Showrunner looked down at the images in their well-manicured hands. They glowed with power. A crude depiction of themself. A drawing of the demon fox they'd allowed Prosper to separate from to cheat. And a picture of the damned himself.

They allowed a smile to cross their pink-stained lips. Very well, then. A sacrifice. They needed to send a message to that.. that deathless cheater, that cross-tournamental bastard. The one with the scar. About what they were willing to do if he didn't let himself lose!

Very Well, they thought, Very Well.

#### Tournament Chapter 5

The Showrunner raced up the stairs to the surveillance room in the arena's skybox. Something was amiss.

Several times she nearly twisted her ankle- heels could be difficult for even the most experienced- and had to steady herself by grabbing onto one of her hundreds of identical guards- identical to each other, not to her.

There was only one her.

She'd been hearing a ruckus coming from the cabin- normally, there was a little noise, but this was pandemonium! At first she'd figured they had just been seeing the food- and other trash- that her audience had sent in for them, but now she was suspecting otherwise.

She twisted her ankle for real, now, tripping and slamming a knee into the stairs. One of her ever-faithful guards caught her before she hit her head.

"Take me to skybox!" She exclaimed as he lifted her onto his back, "Something is wrong!"

"Sure thing, [OMITTED]!"

#### Tournament Chapter 6

"Those- those-" She shrieked-

"Surely not a problem for you, right [OMITTED]?"

She supposed she appreciated their unfaltering confidence in her. They were bent for her, all of them.

She watched on the screen the- the chaos unfolding in the cabin! Her cabin! Food sure, but also- but also-

"SHUT IT DOWN!" She screamed, "SHUT IT DOWN! This is the last time I trust the audience with anything! Shut down the portal!"

"Sure thing!" Said several of the guards at once, all advancing towards the switch. Dumb as a sack of rocks, they were. But loyal.

Several of them flipped it, like, as a team, and the portal dispensing the food flickered and died.

She sank her head into her well manicured hands. Time to assess the damage.

#### The Cost of Death Chapter 1 [his ass is doomed by the narrative.]

Stanley fiddled with the buttons he had been given, gnawing on them anxiously. He glanced over at the Narrator, currently in the form of a teacup-sized cat, who was currently monologuing about… something. No one was listening.

He looked at the cookie he had been given, and nervously clutched his loading screen. He had died before, and with this, he knew he would be fine.

And so Stanley was pushed onto the spikes, and he died.

For the third time. In the arena, at least.

The first time, it had been an honorable battle against that lawyer. The second... he had returned, after looking at the Showrunner and quickly signing a 'Please?', along with a gangly, monochrome man. And now... now, he had the sinking feeling that he had been brought back just to be toyed with. Just to be killed.

He huffed as he awoke in his office desk, and then blinked.

Still here; still alive. The Narrator was silent at the moment; he was still watching the tournament, monologuing to himself. Stanley had been a bit confused when the Narrator had shown him the application poll, but he was much less afraid of dying than the other competitors. The end was never, and he might not be in the Showrunner's good graces, but he still had a god on his side. And he had managed to make a friend in there, in Cesare.

Stanley walked through the office, picking up his bucket as he went, and then promptly clipped out of the map to find Cesare's body.

It took quite a lot of glitchy movement, but he eventually found the underside of the spike pits. He shuddered, looking at the various kinds of blood on them.

But finally, he found Cesare. He sighed, picking up the body of his friend, and carried the somnambulist back to the office.

Once back, Cesare did not wake, but Stanley could clearly see the rise and fall of his chest-- sleeping, good.

Stanley sighed. He was no longer a competitor, and he wished to make the most of this momentary break in routine but... he felt something off.

He and Cesare had both died three times. In the ring, Stanley reminded himself-- he had died much more than that in the Parable.

But these deaths felt different. There was... there was a reason Stanley had felt the need to bring Cesare's body back to the office, rather than just leaving him to be resurrected at the end of the competition.

Stanley clutched his bucket and listened closely to see if his metallic friend had anything to share.

Who else had died so much in that competition?

Stanley quickly thought it over; there were two others, that riddling man and the lego boy.

Stanley gripped his loading screen tightly, along with his bucket, and then glitched out of the map.

He looked around the underside of the pocket dimension he was trapped in, and saw-- oh, fuck.

He saw the riddling man, Edward Nashton. He saw him, and--

Stanley quickly picked up his body, and moved as quickly as he could back to the office without the ability to jump.

He knew there was something wrong with this. He knew it. The revivals he had experienced-- they were of a different nature than those caused by the loading screen. And here there was some proof.

Stanley carried Edward back to the office, and examined all three of their bodies.

Edward’s eyes were… strange. Cesare, now that he looked at him-- he seemed stuck in that sleeping state. And Stanley, as he examined his own body, found that he was missing his mouth.

He went out again for the lego boy, Jay walker. He-- his color seemed diluted, from his generally pale skin to the clothes he was wearing.

Upon returning to the office, Stanley curled up and looked at his loading screen.

The end is never the end is never the end is never…

Yes. Stanley was sure that he would survive this awful competition. But he could already feel that the revivals… so many of them… were starting to make him… less. Diluting him into a more simplistic form.

He clutched his loading screen, and hoped that this would be the end of his time in the arena. He didn’t know what would happen if he was summoned forth again; if he died in there again.

But he knew it was approaching…

He knew that the end of the competition was coming. But it would not be without consequence.

Stanley idly cursed the showrunner. She was foolish, to have started this, without properly understanding all it would lead to. She may be in charge of this pocket dimension, but that doesn’t mean she should be playing around with life and death like that!

But there really wasn’t much Stanley could do.

He clutched his loading screen, and his bucket, and hoped that the end of this damned game would come soon.

#### New Task

YOU – … What the fuck.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Welcome back to self awareness, fucko! How'd you sleep? Like shit, I bet?

YOU – Yeah, whatever just happened didn't feel good. Am I dead finally?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – I'm afraid not, Harry boy. Though you \*did\* die, recently. Happened rather quickly, too. But that's neither here nor there.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – What's important is that The Infernal Engine is once again up and running. And once it's up and running, \*oh boy\*, is it unstoppable! You are nigh impossible to defeat, Harry, and you are going to make it \*everybody else's problem.\*

YOU – What if I… Wanted it all to stop though? What if I'm tired?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Too bad! You had your chance when you actually died the first time, but some higher power still wants you around. Probably for the best. I bet whatever's going to happen next will be really...

Really...

… Funny.

YOU – … Okay. Sure. Can I go back to sleep, though? I'd like to pretend none of this is happening right now.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Nope! You're gonna open your eyes and participate in this death match again whether you'd like to or not!

YOU – Wait, \*death match\*??

3…

YOU – Hey.

2…

YOU – \*Hey.\*

1…

YOU – Hey!! I don't want to do this!! Please let me sleep!! What the fuck!!!

1. Wake up.

////

VOLITION – Oh, no. Oh this fucking \*sucks\*, guys.

PERCEPTION [Trivial: Failure] – The hell do you mean. Is he not asleep?

HALF LIGHT – Nah. We're dead. This is hell. This is hell we're in. Awesome! Love that for us.

VOLITION – Can you like actually shut your mouth for 5 seconds for once in your goddamn life. Please. I am \*begging\*,

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Heyy. Hey guys. Uh. He's like, waking up. Like, right now. Like. Right this second? What uh. Should we do. Help.

1. Open your eyes.

PERCEPTION [SIGHT] – Ow. Fuck.

-1 health.

Everything is bright and your head hurts and it sucks here. Wherever \*here\* is, anyway.

1. Close your eyes and go back to sleep. It's fine. This is all a dream, probably.
2. Get up and look around the area.
3. Die for realsies.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] – What? Fuck you you're not dying. Bitch. You're awake now, go… I don't know. Look around and see what's what here.

YOU – "What if I don't wanna :("

VOLITION – That isn't my problem shut up. Go. Go, go, go. Right now. Right. Fucking now.

YOU – "🥺"

VOLITION – Don't you "🥺" me, oh my God!!

1. Close your eyes and go back to sleep. It's fine. This is all a dream, probably.
2. Get up and look around the area.
3. Die for realsies.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Hey actually now that he's up and awake, we can… Go find \*substances\*. Anddd… Similar Things. Perhaps. Maybe. Just an idea. So he doesn't, uh… Actually for realsies die. :)

VOLITION – ... Y'know what. Sure. Fuck it all.

NEW TASK: FIND DRUGS

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Okay cool so while we're getting that sorted, uh, have y'all three seen Anyone Else up here. Like, \*any\* of the other Skills. Hello.

HALF LIGHT – What if, and hear me out… What if they are Dead, For Realsies, No Joke. Huh. What then.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – What if maybe you chilled the fuck out, bud? What then? Hmm?

HALF LIGHT – Canadian-ass.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – What on God is a Canadian.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Failure] – Some person from Canada. Probably.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – OHH SHIT!! COOLCOOLCOOL THE OTHERS ARE ALIVE PROBABLY IT'S NOT JUST US FOUR HERE! LET'S FUCKIN' GO!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – … Wait. We still have to… Oh God we still have to \*Do Shit\*. Hey. Guys, where are we, actually?

PERCEPTION [Trivial: success] – Cabin.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Ok besides that though.

PERCEPTION [Trivial: failure] – I dunno. I don't control the legs.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – You are so useless actually. Love that for you, to be honest.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Anyways can somebody please make him walk, I dunno what I'm doin' here. God bless. <3

VOLITION – Yeah, okay. Lemme… Try that. Uh…

1. Perish immediately.
2. Cry and shit yourself and scream.
3. Walk out of the cabin.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] - I'm not letting you do that.

1. Perish immediately.
2. Cry and shit yourself and scream.
3. Walk out of the cabin.

VOLITION – Okay cool.

PERCEPTION – Oh!! I see now! We are in An Arena. Which probably means that we're—

HALF LIGHT – —Going to die!

PERCEPTION – We are going to die! 😃👍

VOLITION – How about we don't die though.

NEW TASK: Try not to die (again?)

VOLITION – Okay so, he's in… An arena. And probably in a death match of some sort. Cool. Noted. And we'll probably die but not \*yet\*, dammit, so let's at least try to stay alive for a bit longer. Do we have his gun still, or…?

1. Check pockets for your gun.

Your pockets are empty. No weapons to be found.

VOLITION – Fuuuuuucking hell. Again? Seriously?

PERCEPTION [Trivial: success] – There's knives in that body over there though! :)

VOLITION – Wonderful! And totally not at all a coincidence! A knife will have to do for now.

+1 weapon [knife] added to inventory.

VOLITION – Okay I think he's ready to not get killed. Yeehaw.

## NEW TASK: Win the fuckin white boy bracket 👌

#### The Tournament Chapter 8

She brought two of her guards with her as she exited the arena. She didn't normally leave the arena- there were more of them then there were of her, she knew- but these circumstances were extenuating, to say the least.

They flanked her as she stepped out of the arena into the light of day. Her heavy, woolen cloak- necessary for the environment required to do her... thing, was no help in the bright spring sun. The heat beat down on her, and the pink satin lining- invisible from the outside, yes, but she knew it was there, and that's what mattered- did nothing to cool her.

But she couldn't risk showing her face, as beautiful as it was. It wouldn't do to allow her contestants to know her identity. Knowledge was power, and she alone could have the power in this little contest.

And yet they had pulled one over on her. Not her boys, specifically, but that audience! Sneaking things in! Taking advantage of her generosity! The nerve.

The heels of her bright pink heels sank into the soft, grassy dirt as she walked. Sighing, she bent to take them off and handed them to a guard. ("Hold these." "Sure thing, [OMITTED]!" "Don't say my name around the boys." "Sure thing!") Not wanting to dirty her feet (and ruin her bright pink pedicure) she stepped lightly as she continued in the direction of the log cabin in the distance.

She was quite proud of the cabin. She'd designed it herself- not that it was very complicated, but you know. It was a pet project. One that hadn't yet backfired like the competition had. But she wasn't done.

The cabin itself was tall and wide. There were two floors- or rather, one floor and a loft. The main floor was lovely- though she was biased. Couches, a big TV, a dining table on one side, and a conversation pit with lots of space for all of them to play games. Lovely. This tournament was supposed to be lovely.

The loft was, well, a loft. There was both a ladder and a small, winding set of stairs (for Firestar and Buzz types) that led up to the loft, which in itself contained a library of bunk beds, enough for each white boy to have his own. The loft wasn't much, but it was comfortable.

The last time she'd seen the cabin was before the contestants began arriving, when she was making sure everything was in order. That had been nearly a month ago. And now, nearing the cabin, she could already tell it was going to be very, very different.

There was a truck- a shipping truck, not quite a semi but not quite not- the back doors over and absolutely spilling over with lunchables. they covered the ground outside in a big pile! And there were more in the truck! She scowled, and held a hand out to one of the guards, who obligingly returned her shoes. She slipped them back on, and then walked to the door. She nodded to a guard, who banged thrice on the door with his pole-arm (she did have them dress as medieval knights- both to conceal their collective identity, and for a bit of whimsy). That was just a warning. She didn't intend on waiting for someone to answer.

She extended a hand towards the (black) doorknob, admiring the way her (pink) nails looked against it.

Then she turned the knob and flung the door open.

The cabin was nothing like she had left it.

#### Cost of Death Chapter 2 [guess who's back? back again?]

He'd already lost his mouth. But this time, when he came back into the light of the world?

Oh, fuck. No, no, fuck, NO!

His body was largely the same, excluding the previously-mentioned missing mouth. But he... he could feel something else, inside of him.

A sense of loss of control. A... deference.

He was growing weaker in his will, and he couldn't stand it. His will was all he had. He had to be able to make his own choices, to walk through the door that he chose.

The cabin he was in was in chaos. Smuggled items littered the floor and people roamed about, the whole place covered in food. He curled up in on himself and clutched his loading screen tight.

The Adventure Line™ snaked over and looked at him worriedly-- well, as worried as a line can look-- and that drew the attention of the octopus-creature.

The Timekeeper crawled over, patted Stanley with a tentacle, and smiled.

"Someone's really got it out for you." he said, in a strange sort of voice. "And it's... it's not the Narrator. It's one of those, the ones who push. And I think... I think they're trying to find your breaking point, Stanley. They're taking advantage of this inexperienced being running the tournament to bring about something... wrong."

[I don't want that.] Stanley signed desperately, tears running down his face.

The Timekeeper nodded softly, and patted Stanley in a comforting manner.

"Nor do I. I will do my best to aid you, from here on out. But... I don't know how much I can do. My powers concern time, not life itself."

Stanley sighed, and nodded.

There wasn't much else he could do, so he stood up to look for Cesare. It seemed all of the white boys had been revived; perhaps Stanley would be able to alert his friend to the clear, looming problem.

#### The Tournament Chapter 9

First of all, it was a complete mess. Big crates! Small crates! Giant cakes! Was that- was that orbeez?? Did someone try to feed her boys orbeez?

That wouldn't do. Everything that wasn't food or a contestant needed to go!

She turned to one of her guards, and drew him close- it wouldn't do for them to hear her voice. She whispered "Get some others. Everything that isn't food or a listed contestant needs to go."

"Sure thing, [O]-...Mistress. Miss Showrunner!" He said a bit too loud! Before turning to walk away.

She straightened her back, turning back to the cabin, careful to keep her head tilted down.

Her boys had fallen silent when the door flung open. She could see their faces, though they couldn't see much more than the bottom quarter of hers.

There was Artemis. There was Firestar. There was Jason- she was pleased to see he'd survived, though he looked quite weak... Blood loss, perhaps? She had seen him hit the spikes. Her Boys, she thought affectionately. Special. Unique. One thing in common.

She glanced around the room, taking stock. There were more- much, much more than there were at the start of the round. She knew everyone, of course, but some of these faces she hadn't seen in quite a while... they must have returned from the resort. Fools. It was much safer there. And they had returned to a very different competition.

She heard some clanging behind her as several guards jogged to the cabin.

Content with her backup, she kicked a chunk of... drywall? out of the way and stepped into her cabin. The guards entered in a line behind her, and she lifted a hand to direct them to the pile filling the conversation pit-

"So, Showie, finally decided to show up?"

Her head snapped up, looking at the rafters, and then -stupid, stupid, stupid- right back down again. He had seen her! Xigbar! She'd forgotten about him!

"Someone's nervous! What, afraid someone'll figure out you're-"

Before he could finish, she raised a well manicured hand to point at him, and several of her guards drew weapons and advanced.

He disappeared.

Coward.

With no target, her guards returned to doing what she'd ordered them to do.

They turned the offerings upside-down. No stone was left unturned. Not even the stone that someone had sent them. White boys can't eat stones! Who was that supposed to be for?

It took them only a few minutes to completely go through the food. They carried out surprisingly few things. A few miscellaneous, non-submitted white boys. Some Cardboard. A pen. A lemur. Some kind of orb.

And-

She held up a hand, pausing her nearest guard as he tried to pass her. He obediently stopped, and after a moment, placed his contraband into her outstretched hand.

A sketchbook. She examined it. Good quality paper. Fit for watercolor and other mediums. Accompanied by watercolors and the corresponding brushes. A note was attached to the spiral top. This was intended for Prosperity.

"Where do you get this?" She murmured to her guard. The paints were still wet. She opened to the first page. A painting of the arena, from the perspective of a competitor. She was pleased to see that Prosper had noted and matched the lovely shade she'd chosen for the banners. A beautiful pink.

"I took it from a boy, Miss."

"Hm. Give it back."

"Sure thing!" He happily clanged back over to Prosperity and returned the book. Prosperity seemed embarrassed. That "tracked".

With a final look at the contestants, she was about to turn to leave when she felt something soft and warm brush up against her foot. She looked down, expecting Firestar, but instead saw someone who wasn't invited.

"Hello, are you the one in charge here?" Asked the kitten, his voice smooth and british. Needless to say, she didn't respond.

This did not seem to bother the kitten.

"Well i must say I like your style- very mysterious!"

She didn't reply. Again he seemed unbothered. he actually seemed quite used to this. She moved her foot away from the kitten, but he persisted.

"I'm something of a story teller myself! Stanley- you know Stanley-" (She did know Stanley, and with the mention of his name she knew exactly who this cat was) "I plan out stories for him, too! I know how frustrating it can be when they don't follow your plan- It's like they don't think you care! I must ask, is that- I don't know his name, Rafter-Hooligan bothering you?"

He was, but she didn't say a word.

"I'm just saying, Miss, I could help you! We could tell the story together!" -Several of the white boys turned to look at Stanley, who looked emba- he had no mouth! When did that happen?! She'd have to fix that-

"It could be wonderful!"

That was enough. She didn't share her story. She certainly didn't need help. She was Everything. And she could do Everything herself. (Her guards didn't count. They were, after all, just guards.)

She leaned over to a guard and whispered, "Put him with our leverage."

And just like that, the little narrator was scooped up by a guard (gently- the guards liked kittens) and carried away to somewhere altogether nice, if quite... dark.

She looked back up at the white boys and flashed one in particular a brilliantly white smile. Clearly, he got the message. His sea-green eyes hardened in anger, but what was he to do?

Behave, her smile said, behave.

And then she was gone.

#### The Tournament Chapter 10

Annabeth awoke to something hitting her face.

"Miss? Miss? Wake up. Do you know where we are?" A voice asked. British. Scared.

She opened her eyes, though that didn't really change anything about what she saw. She sat up in bed, and something small tumbled from her chest into her lap.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Now, where are we?"

The voice appeared to be coming from the small creature in her lap. Which was odd, because it sounded like a grown man.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"I'm the narrator, of course, fro-"

"You're running this thing?!"

"Wh- No, no! Of course not! I narrate The Stanley Parable! I have nothing to do with the Showrunner of this tournament! She threw me in here! Can you believe it? How rude! That's what I get for offering my help? Honestly, I-"

"You offered her help?"

"I thought we were kindred spirits! But anyway, the Stanley Parable-"

"Back up. You saw her? What did she look like?"

The kitten- she was pretty sure he was a kitten- crawled out of her lap, "Mysterious, but she seems to have this thing with pink. Quite pale, too. Covered head to foot in a cloak when she visited the cabin-"

"You were in the cabin?"

"Well, yes-"

"Is Percy okay?" She tried to keep the worry out of her voice.

"Percy? hm. I can't say I'm familiar, I only just arrived."

"Um, Black hair? Green eyes?"

The narrator paused for a moment. And then, "Orange shirt?"

"Yes!" Annabeth said, relieved.

"He seemed alright enough. Looked quite angry, though."

There was a pause.

"Miss? Do you know where we are?"

"Some kind of house." She swung her legs off of the bed and got up, grabbing the porcelain handle she'd broken off of a jug and had been using as a dagger. Not that there was anything to fight. "Can you climb ladders?"

"N- no, why?"

"The stairs are fake. It looks like there's been ladders retroactively installed to make this place functional," She paused, "I'm Annabeth, by the way."

"F- why would the stairs be fake?" The Narrator asked as she picked him up.

"This isn't a real house," She gently placed him on her shoulder and the dagger between her teeth as she began to descend, "Eh ah oll ow."

"Pardon?"

She reached the floor below. The kitchen. She placed the Narrator on the floor and took her dagger in her hand.

"It's a doll house."

#### Cost of Death Chapter 3 [first meeting of the white boy alliance to get back their loved ones currently being held hostage by the showrunner!!]

Stanley was able to make his way over to Cesare, not bothered too much by the various kins-men milling around. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he was still sleeping-- like Stanley, he had been affected by all of the revivals, and it was going to take some serious time or effort to fix that.

Stanley sighed as he sat down next to Cesare.

They were friends, Stanley thought. No, he didn’t just think it-- he knew it. Cesare and him were friends , and Stanley was going to look out for his friend. He was going to stand by Cesare, until-- well, until he couldn’t anymore. Cesare was asleep right now, and Stanley knew that that made him very vulnerable. He was not going to let anything happen to Cesare, not if he had some say in the matter.

He looked over the crowd of other white boys and frowned. Something felt off, something was… missing.

…

Why couldn’t he hear the Narrator’s voice?

Stanley looked around nervously.

He had heard the Narrator, not even a bit ago! Had he been so focused on protecting Cesare that he had lost track of Narry? No, no no!

Stanley stood up and then quickly sat back down.

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave Cesare now-- he couldn’t end up alone . And if he’d lost the Narrator protecting Cesare, he was going to make damn well sure that Cesare stayed protected.

So Stanley pulled out his buttons, and carefully sat next to Cesare.

One of them had a bite mark (he did quite like the taste of buttons), and was nonfunctional. One was a Big Red Button, and it made a nice clicking sound when pushed. One of them was a ‘Jim’ button, saying the name ‘Jim’ when pressed. And the last one was a Hug button, which had a picture of a heart and made a squeaky noise, much like the ‘Yippee’ of an Autism Creature.

Stanley began to repeatedly press the Jim button.

Unfortunately, there was no one here named Jim. Fortunately, it did draw some attention to Stanley. He waved at the other white boys, and quickly signed;

[Has anyone seen a cat?]

But… no response. Stanley sighed through his nose, and then tried again, with more simplistic signs.

[Please. A-S-L]

After that, word seemed to get around, and in a little bit, a teenage boy with blond hair and-- holy shit, was that a sword -- came over.

“Hey!” the boy said, sitting down on the floor near Stanley. “I’m Magnus Chase. What the-- is that mouth thing normal?”

[No. Thank fuck you know ASL. I was losing my mind.]

“Well, happy to help! I can interpret for you.”

[...thank you. I am Stanley. The sleeping goth is Cesare, he is my friend.]

“So, you need help with the mouth thing? Cause, I think there’s a few magicians here, they might be able to do something.”

[No. Well, yes, I would like help with it, but that’s not-- I can do fine without my mouth. I don’t need to eat, and I’m mute normally. I need help finding my Narrator.]

“Your… Narrator?”

[He’s a little kitten right now. Brown fur, gray streaks, silver glasses on a chain… annoying british voice.]

Magnus looks at Stanley, his face falling.

“Oh. Him.”

[What happened?]

“He got… taken.” Magnus says, hice voice as soothing as possible. “By the guards.”

[Did… did anyone get a close look at what happened?] Stanley signs quickly. [Anyone-- who was near. Why did it happen? Is there--]

“Yeah, hold on. There were. I even know one of em. Gimme a sec.” Magnus says, and then stands up. “Percy!” he calls out.

After a few minutes, another teenager-- though this one seems older-- walks over.

“Yeah?” the boy-- Percy-- says, clearly angry, or at least frustrated.

“This is Stanley. He wants to… he’s looking for his Narrator.”

[The cat.]

“The kitten that the guards took.” Magnus adds.

Percy looks over Stanley, startling at the missing mouth, and then a look of… solidarity overcomes his features.

“Look man, I’m…sorry. The Showrunner’s guards took him. I don’t… I don’t know where she’s keeping him, but… I figure it’s gotta be somewhere real secure; Annabeth, my girlfriend-- the Showrunner took her too, and if it was anything less than maximum security, I’m sure she’d already have escaped.”

Stanley’s face falls, at the same time that Magnus looks at Percy in disbelief.

“She’s-- ANNABETH?” Mangus says in a worried tone. “What the-- why would they do that?”

“Leverage.” Percy mutters, and then an apologetic sort of looks overcomes him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I thought you’d-- I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t.” Magnus says, almost ashamedly.

[We need to get them out.] Stanley interrupts, pressing the Hug button for extra measure to make sure that he’s got their attention.

“He wants to-- he says that you need to get them out.”

“Yeah, of course.” Percy says with a sigh. “Of course I want her out. The Showrunner’s bad news, I-- I don’t want to be here, I don’t want her controlling me, of course I don’t want her holding anyone hostage!”

Stanley reaches out a hand and gently touches Percy’s shoulder.

[We will get them out. Or they will escape on there own.] he signs deliberately.

“He says-- he says that you will get them out. Or-- or they’ll get out on their own.”

Percy looks up at Stanley, and takes a shaky breath.

“I’m guessing you have a plan?” he says.

Stanley shakes his head no.

“Then--”

[I prefer to just do . Now come on, there's a lot of people here! Even magicians, apparently? And I know I’ve got at least one semi-god friend who’s still here. We’ll figure something out.]

After Magnus translates, Percy lets out a sigh of relief.

“Okay. Okay, so… yeah. Yeah, I’ll go get some of my magician friends. Then we can make a basic plan, and then… we get them back .”

Stanley nods adamantly.

[I’m going to stay here with Cesare for now.] he signs, and as Magnus and Percy walk off, he looks over at the face of his sleeping friend.

Carefully, he tucks his loading screen into Cesare’s pocket. It’s risky for Stanley to be losing that, but… he’s died before. And the loading screen didn’t help with the revival degradation. At least now, if something happens to Cesare, he’ll wake up in the Parable, far away from this awful tournament.

Well. That is, if he ever does wake up again.

#### Keep Your Friends Close

 Someone's grumpy.

 Xigbar stood on the roof where he'd teleported after the Showrunner sicced her dogs on him, his arms crossed. He watched the dear old Showie and her little army load up all the things that hadn't been hidden well into a truck. If only they knew how much they had been missing. As the last of the things got loaded up, he glanced around to make sure no one else was outside, and stepped off the roof, floating harmlessly to the ground.

 "Hey, Showie." No sooner than the words had left his mouth had she whipped around. Even if he couldn't see her face, he knew she was absolutely enraged. Immediately Xigbar threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Relax, would ya? I'm not here for a fight. I just want to talk."

 "What do you want." Her words came out cold and clipped, like she was just barely holding back from attacking him. Granted, he knew he deserved it. He did just show up to mess with everything.

 "Listen. I'm sure you don't want something like this happening again, right? What would you say to a little… alliance?"

 "... What would you want in exchange?" The Showrunner crossed her arms. She clearly didn't trust him, which was fine. The feeling was mutual.

 "I'm not gonna ask for you to keep me alive, or anything. I've been handling that myself just fine." A slight barb. Xigbar held up his hand before she could make the inevitable retort. "What I want is my arrowguns. I know you can give them to me. Something that simple has to be in your skillset. If I have them, I can keep things here on a leash for you, per se. Make sure no one else tries to smuggle anything in."

 He tossed an arm around her shoulder, leaning close. Her shoulder felt weirdly hard. Strange, but not important. His gold eye flashed as he drew an invisible line across his neck. "I can even… Take care of anyone you don't want hangin' around."

 "You'd be an enforcer? You? I thought you weren't very fond of rules."

 "Ha!" He laughed, sharp teeth showing in his grin. "I'm not, but I'm willing to ignore that for the sake of a deal. It isn't the first time I've had to do something like that. And hey, we'll both be getting something out of it. What do you have to lose? It's not like I can kill you, right?"

 The Showrunner fell silent for a few moments. That was good. It meant she was considering his offer.

 "Why?" She finally broke the silence. "You seemed to be entertained enough without trying to be my enforcer."

 "I just want my guns back. Simple as that." Xigbar shrugged. He could feel the Showrunner's suspicious glare even through the darkness of her hood. After a few moments, she spoke again.

 "Keep Team Lit safe between rounds. If I have any other jobs for you, you'll know."

 "Deal." He grinned again. The Showrunner snapped her fingers, and at once, Xigbar summoned his arrowguns to his hands. Being armed again felt good. If he hadn't been putting up a front, he would've visibly relaxed. He fired a single bolt into the air, just for the feeling.

 Dismissing his weapons, he turned his attention back to the Showrunner. She offered one perfectly manicured hand. He dropped to one knee, taking her hand and brushing a ghost of a kiss on her knuckles. It isn't something he would normally do, but he had to play the part.

 He looked up at her, grin sharp and cocky. Releasing her hand, he stood back up. For the time being, at least, they had an agreement. At the very least, she wouldn't directly be trying to kill him.

 "Pleasure doing business with you… [OMITTED]."

#### Contraband,

Dipper sat and stared down at the box in front of him. After seeing all the other useful this that had been snuck through to the other contestants, he had frantically dug through the food pile to look for something that could have been sent to him specifically.

In the end, the only thing he had found was a reused cookie tin covered with stickers and labelled "Stan Cakes". Could his family have sent him something he could use to survive as well, or was is a prank, sent because they didn't know how much danger he was in?

After taking a moment to steel his nerves for disappointment, Dipper opened the box and... got a blast of confetti right in the face. After recovering from the shock and spitting out what got i his mouth (he's gonna be coughing up confetti pieces for hours), he took a proper look in the box. Inside was Grunkle Ford's mind-control tie (with the controller) and a partially bedazzled grappling hook.

A lot less than what some of the other boys got, but a lot more than he had expected. Now! ...If only he could figure out a good way to use these to get out.

#### The Distortionist and The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals,

Paul Matthews sat holding a brown paper bag in his hands. He’d been told it was a bag lunch, but the contents didn’t feel like a bag lunch. He finally worked up the courage to open it and peer inside. It contained,,, a gun and a note. Paul reached in and pulled out the note. The note read “I authorize you to use my firearm - General John MacNamara”. Paul felt a mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that he could now defend himself, and disappointment that Emma Perkins hadn’t been the one to send it to him. Emma Perkins, the crabby barista. Paul liked her a lot.

The sound of smashing glass pulled Paul out of his thoughts. Paul twisted around to see a lanky monochrome young man with a strangely twisted spine, who had his fist planted in a mirror. The young man seemed satisfied and pulled his fist away. He noticed Paul watching and turned to him, smiling in a way that made Paul nervous.

The young man walked over and sat down next to Paul. Paul scooted away nervously. “Uh,,, Hello?” Paul said. The young man tilted his head. “Greetings.” He said, “My name is Christopher Pierre. And you are?”

“Paul. Paul Matthews.” Paul said quickly. This “Christopher” kid made him nervous.

Christopher attempted to recline on one arm, but fell backwards and smacked his head on the floor. “This was easier when I had my bat.” Christopher muttered. “But that “Showrunner” just had to take it away.” He sat up again and looked Paul in the eyes. Paul squirmed internally. SOMETHING about Christopher was off, but Paul couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It could be Christopher’s twisted spine, or his paper white skin, which was paler than half the other people in the arena.

“Why did you break that mirror?” Paul managed to ask through his nervousness.

“They hate me. They’ve hurt me badly.” Christopher brushed his fluffy white hair back from his face, revealing a large black burn. Paul cringed.

Christopher grinned. “Terrible isn’t it? One could almost call the mirrors abusive.” he said, but his voice was insincere, manipulative. Paul’s discomfort increased the more he spoke to Christopher. There was something inhuman and cruel about him that made Paul want to run.

Paul knew he could shoot Christopher if he needed to, but he still felt a sense of dread. If he did shoot, there was a chance the Showrunner would punish him. Paul stood up abruptly. “I have to go do something.”

Christopher tilted his head again. “I guess I will see you later then.” he said coolly. Paul nodded and only relaxed when he couldn’t see Christopher anymore. There was something off about Christopher, and Paul had the feeling he didn’t want to learn what it was.

#### The Tournament Chapter 12,

Artemis furrowed his brow as he stared down as his flip phone. No bars. Odd. It hadn't been like that before.

Usually he was able to get signal anywhere. He pressed and held on the power button to restart the phone. As it turned off, he took a sip of the Pink Drink someone had provided for him and turned his attention to Prosperity, who was sitting by the glass sliding doors on the other side of the conversation pit and frowning at his sketchbook.

"Something wrong, Prosper?" He asked, getting up from the kitchen island and walking over to him.

He looked up at him, hesitant, "Maybe. I think the Showrunner got something on the page."

Artemis slipped his phone in his pocket and peered down at the page. The drawing was quite good- it was of the arena. He noted the stark lighting and the way it highlighted the banners- were they really that pink?

He also noted the smudge where the Showrunner had briefly held it.

"What is that?" He asked.

"I'm not sure. But it's the same color as her skin."

"Concealer, perhaps? Though I'm not clear on why she would use it on her hands..."

Artemis heard a grunt over the general clamor of the contestants getting into what was provided. He looked up to see Firestar dragging what looked like a stuffed animal over to them.

"Did someone send that for you?" Artemis asked.

Firestar dropped the blue thing near Artemis and Prosper, "Yes-"

"That's kind of nice," Prosper said.

"More than nice," Firestar said, his hat flashing, "It smells like my friend, Graystripe. But I can't get it open."

"Let me see," Artemis pulled the thing closer to him- it was warm, certainly, and soft. he gently picked it up (it was about the weight of a cat, too) and found a zipper on its belly. He unzipped it to reveal gray fur.

After removing the costume, he set the unconscious cat (who certainly looked like his name would be 'Graystripe' down in front of Firestar.

Firestar sniffed his friend's muzzle.

"Is he okay?" Prosper looked at him, concerned.

"I think it's poppy seeds," Firestar's green eyes shone with relief, "He should be okay, he's just sleeping."

Artemis was thinking. "Did anyone else get smuggled in that way, I wonder?"

He followed Prosperity's gaze to what looked like a bowl of tomato soup that had fallen from the table, staining the white shag rug underneath a deep shade of crimson.

#### Contemplation

Michael Afton gazed at his gloved hands. He used the thick white gloves and a bear mask to cover the fact that he wasn’ quite,,, alive. He’d “died” months ago, when Circus Baby had tricked him into entering the scooping room, where she’d scooped him. And then,,, well,,, turns out that Baby and the other animatronics had become an amalgam and they wore Michael’s scooped body like a skinsuit. He’d only recently gotten control over his body back, and the moment Ennard had left his body, the Showrunner picked him up and dropped him into,,, this,,, Death match.

Michael wasn’t sure why the Showrunner had picked him in particular, since he was no longer a white boy. Ever since he’d been scooped, his skin had turned a shade of purple. His best guess was that the Showrunner had simply thought he fit because he used to have pale skin. Although there were two cats here, so honestly, who knew what the Showrunner was thinking.

Some of the other boys had asked Michael why he wore the mask and gloves. His reaction had mostly been “I’m shy.”. This wasn’t a TOTAL lie. But it did leave out a lot. He did want to be honest with someone, but he didn’t know anyone, and he was too nervous to try and make any friends. Most people had found a friend(or rival) already, and Michael didn’t want to intrude. There was that team of the two kids and the cat, and the Showrunner seemed to favor them; there was Stanley and his friend, who’s name Michael had either never learned or forgotten.

Michael shook his head. He shouldn’t get too caught up in wondering about things. If he did he might miss something important and die. Again. Although,,, maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad. No, he shouldn’t think like that. He took the mask off and stared into a broken mirror at his weary, purple face. “Michael?” asked a voice behind him.

#### The Tournament Chapter 11

"Twoleg? What is your name?"

It was late, and Firestar quietly padded out from underneath Artemis's bed, where he had built a nest. Graystripe lay there, still unconscious.

"What?" Asked the twoleg, sitting on the edge of a bed, head in his hands. He looked older than Artemis and Prosper, and had black hair and green eyes. His pants were blue, and he was wearing a shirt that was the same color brown as Firestar's pelt. It had text on it that Firestar couldn't read, because he was a cat.

"My name is Firestar. What is yours?"

"Percy."

"I saw you look at Showrunner with a particular hatred. She even bared her teeth at you. Do you have some history?"

Percy scowled, and the glass of water on his bedside table shook. "She has my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Was that like a mate?

"Annabeth."

That didn't answer Firestar's question, but okay.

"Th- that mouthless twoleg, he looked upset, too, when she took that kit."

"Stanley? Yeah, that was his friend. We- we're gonna try to get them back, b-"

"Shh!"

Firestar jumped onto the bed, getting nearer Percy's ear, "Don't be so loud! The one-eyed one will hear you!"

"Wh- Xigbar?" Percy whispered, looking bewildered.

"I don- Sure! Him!" He whispered. He and Percy both looked up, where Xigbar was relaxing some kind of wooden beam near the top of the room, about 10 fox-lengths away.

They looked at each other, green eyes meeting. Percy said, "Why are you worried about him? The showrunner hates him."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I saw them sharing tongues not long after her clanmates finished feeding the monster."

"I- you saw them doing what?"

"I know!" Firestar said, glad that Percy was just as shocked about the clear show of friendship.

Percy paused, and then looked at Firestar, "Monster? What kind? Why didn't it attack?"

Firestar tilted his head, "The big one that was outside. It vomited out the-" he tried to remember the word- "lunch...balls?"

Percy blinked. "Do you mean the truck?"

"Maybe, do twolegs climb inside trucks and order them around?"

"Yeah."

"Then yes."

"Okay." Percy said, loosening his grip on the small, blue tube he was holding. That had writing on it, too, but Firestar still couldn't read.

A pause.

"I got an aura from the Showrunner," Percy said, "When she gave me the necklaces from Carter-"

"She- she gave you those?!" Was Percy working for her, too?

"Yeah. To gi-" Percy clutched the tube again, "To give to you guys. She also." he blinked some kind of water out of his eyes, and pulled something out of his pocket. It looked like a long curl of twoleg fur, the pale yellow color of the long grass the twolegs grew in rows outside of Ravenpaw and Barley's place.

Firestar sniffed it. Definitely twoleg. "Is this from your Annabeth?"

Percy nodded, and the glass of water again shook on the table. Was Percy doing that?

But this Annabeth. Clearly she was in danger if Showrunner was able to cut some of her fur.

"What is an aura?" He asked Percy.

"It- it's a kind of... a feeling. The Showrunner, I think she's a daughter of Aphrodite."

"And that's important?"

Percy nodded, still staring at Annabeth's fur.

"You saw them... sharing tongues?"

"Yes," Firestar said, recalling Xigbar kneeling in front of Showrunner and grooming her hand.

"She could be using Charmspeak on him." Percy said thoughtfully.

"Who is Charmspeak?"

Percy gave him an odd look, "I mean she could be using magic to convince him to do things. It's something Aphrodite kids can do. My friend Piper used it to defeat Gaia."

Those were definitely words.

A few moments passed in silence.

"Wait," Said Firestar, "Why would Showrunner want you to help us cheat?"

"I don't know," Percy said.

Firestar's ear perked up as a rustle came from the other side of the room. Percy didn't look like he'd heard it.

"But it's late," Continued Percy, "and apparently we're heading back to the arena tomorrow. We should get some rest."

Firestar moved to get off the bed, and then paused, "Percy, do you have more of the necklaces?"

He nodded, and opened his drawer to reveal... a shiny container of twoleg food.

He asked, "Why, did someone lose theirs?"

"N-no, but I want to give one to my friend Graystripe. And I think you should have one, too."

Percy seemed to consider it. He split open a few of the two-leg foods and sure enough, they had necklaces baked inside. he held one out for Firestar to take (it tasted weird in his mouth), then put one on himself, keeping a few in his hand. He shut the drawer.

"'Night, Firestar."

Firestar nodded to him, and then jumped off the bed, padding back to Graystripe.

#### Cost of Death Chapter 4 [so we got a mystery, whos gonna solve it?]

The Timekeeper peeked back out of his smoothie.

He had hidden back inside when the Showrunner and her Kinsmen had come down; and nervously watched as the Narrator was escorted away.

Now that they had left, the Timekeeper crawled over to the Adventure Line™-- who had hidden back inside of its pumpkin-- and knocked on the shell.

"Line™, you can come out now." The Timekeeper hissed.

The Line™ slithered out and draped itself around the Timekeeper's head.

"Right." the Timekeeper mumbled. "Let's go find Stanley."

The Line™ nodded in agreement.

Stanley was sitting in the common room of the white boy cabin, leaning against the wall with a tired expression as he kept watch over a thin, monochrome man.

"Stanley?" the Timekeeper said softly.

Stanley startled, looked at the Timekeeper, and then sighed in relief-- through his nose.

[Oh, thank god. I was-- they took the Narrator. I was worried you had been taken as well.]

"No, we had the sense to hide when that... woman came by."

[You don't need to insult him.]

"I prefer to. It's funny. So, this is..."

[Cesare. We're friends.]

"Really?" the Timekeeper said, his voice a mix of disbelief and... excitement? "He's your friend?"

[I can make friends, Timekeeper.]

"Well, it's just... you haven't had much real-world experience. But I'm very happy for you! Oh, this is... that's great!"

Stanley shakes his head no.

[He's... well, it would be great, except for the fact... he's sleeping.]

"Most people need to sleep, Stanley."

Stanley grumbled. [Yes, but for him... he's very vulnerable when he's asleep. He can be made to do things. And he's stuck like this. He won't wake up. I-- it's been 14 hours, it's like he's in a coma.]

"Oh." the Timekeeper mumbled.

[Yeah. So I'm sitting here until... until he wakes up.]

"But if he's--"

[Yeah. I know he’s not just going to wake up. But he's... I have to protect him. We do this together, me and Cesare.]

“I understand.” The Timekeeper said adamantly. “I-- I will help protect him as well, if he means that much to you.”

Stanley’s eyes crinkled, like he was smiling, and he patted the Timekeeper on the head.

[You can go explore for now, Timekeeper. I’m doing alright on my own. Introduce yourself! There’s a lot of people here.]

“Yes, I can see.” the Timekeeper said with a snort. “I-- I think I would like that, actually.”

The Line™ bobbed its head, and it slithered of the Timekeeper to curl up in Stanley’s hand.

The Timekeeper nodded, and then he crawled up the spiral-staircase to the loft.

It was packed. There were so many boys-- in fact, all of the contestants had returned-- and so every bed was filled.

Wait.

The Timekeeper frowned, and crawled over to Stanley’s bed. It was occupied by a… very pathetic looking man. He was a white boy, but what was he doing in Stanley’s bed?

The Timekeeper tapped the man with one of his tentacles.

“Ah!” the man said with a start, as he bolted awake. His eyes were wide with fear, and they glowed a strange, yellowish color. He stared at the Timekeeper intensely.

“Oh god.” the man said softly. “Oh god, what the--”

“Who are you? Why are you in this bed?” the Timekeeper said, getting straight to the point. “This bed belongs to Stanley. Not you.”

“I-- well, it was open.” the man says awkwardly, running his hand through his hair, which seemed to be coated with… cherry sauce? “I’m Arthur Lester. It was open, and I was tired, and I-- I was transported here inside of a pie. A pie! I don’t even know why I’m here; I imagine Kayne has something to do with it, but--”

“Ohhh.” the Timekeeper says, nodding. That made sense. “You were smuggled in. With the food.”

“Yes? I suppose so? I-- look, I can get out of your bed if you want, just please don’t… attack me?”

“I’m not going to attack you!” the Timekeeper huffed, offended. “And you can stay there, I just wanted to know what was going on. Arthur Lester, alright. I’m the Timekeeper.”

Arthur gave the Timekeeper an odd look, but he nodded after a bit.

“Look.” Arthur mumbled. “I can see that you’re not… human.”

“Yes, I know. I’m an octopus right now, actually.”

“Yes.” Arthur said, in a sort of begrudging manner. “I mean to say… you are a powerful being, aren’t you?”

The Timekeeper preened, and then nodded. “One could call me that. It’s quite nice to be recognized for once.”

“Yes, well, all this to say… there are many other people here who have been touched by forces beyond. Touched, or-- like yourself-- are. I-- I imagine you know this, but--”

“Why’s this matter to you?”

Arthur winced in an awkward sort of way. “Well, inhuman things are far less common and far more… malevolent, where I’m from. I-- how long have you been here, in this… bracket?”

“I was smuggled in, same as you.”

“Ah. Well, look-- there’s not much I can do, but I am a private investigator. And I-- I’d like to compare notes? Try and find a way out. I can share that with you, if-- well, if you can promise to help protect me.”

“Why do you… alright? Sure.”

“I don’t want to die here, just because I pissed off a less-friendly being than you. Investigating requires talking to people, prodding them, spying-- I’d like protection. Can you promise that?”

The Timekeeper thought for a moment, and then nodded. It could probably help Arthur enough to ward off any less-friendly people here, and it would be quite good if Arthur did manage to find a way out.

As the Timekeeper crawled off to find out who was in Cesare’s bed, he faintly heard Arthur say something.

“You see John? I handled myself quite well. Now hush up, I need to get some rest.”

#### The Tournament Chapter 13,

Graystripe made a noise in his sleep. And it was sleep, and Firestar was sure he would wake up.

he was resting his head on his friend's flank. It was almost moonhigh, and everyone in the room was sleeping soundly. Or so it seemed.

Firestar heard the ladder creak slightly as someone scaled it. Which was odd. The last twoleg had climbed it hours ago, and there was no one on the main floor- no one awake, anyway. The mouthless one and his friend were down they, but they didn't seem to be moving- The mouthless one was keeping vigil over his friend much like Firestar was keeping vigil over Graystripe.

He knew this for a fact- he went down there to drink from what he thought he remember was called a 'sink'- a kind of waterfall you could turn on with your paws.

But someone was coming up.

They reached the loft and then began to approach. Firestar thought they smelled acrid and herbal. They walked nearly silently.

Firestar saw a slight glow as the twoleg approached.

The two-leg foot coverings were obviously stained, and the acrid smell was strong coming from them. All of the coverings that Firestar could see were stained the same brown-ish color.

He- Firestar thought it was a male two-leg, was holding what looked like a stick, but a yellow and gray color on different sides. It glowed like the moon.

He crept towards the two-leg den where Percy lay sleeping.

#### The Tournament Chapter 14

Firestar knew what hunting looked like.

This twoleg was hunting.

The acrid-smelling twoleg raised his metal stick, its edge cold and gleaming in the moonlight-

"PERCY!" Firestar leapt from underneath Artemis's nest and landed squarely on Percy's chest before kicking off and launching himself at the twoleg's face.

The twoleg gave a shout and stumbled back, smacking into the frame of another twoleg's den.

The commotion started instantly. He heard Percy jump from his bed followed by the sound of scraping metal.Firestar heard the twoleg yell as he tried to pull him off; it only made him dig his claws in harder, hissing and yowling and spitting as he did. He could feel blood pooling under his pads.

More feet hit the ground. Everyone was awake now. He heard the clamor of people, first in confusion, then coming to help stop this assailant, this intruder. Even if they didn’t know who he was, it was clear enough he was a danger.

Firestar felt a hand grab his scruff and pull him back, fast. The tearing of his claws from the intruder’s face was audible, and it made the twoleg cry out in pain again. He writhed in the grip of whoever had pulled him back.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” Firestar froze. Of course the one to grab him had to be the one working with Showrunner. What had Percy called him… Xigbar. That was his name. His long fur was untied, and he looked angry. His sharp glare flicked between the intruder, Percy, and Firestar.

Firestar caught a glimpse of the intruder twoleg's face. There was a spark of fear in his eyes. Without a word, the twoleg barreled through the crowd and leapt to the main floor, before bolting out the door and into the night.

#### The Tournament Chapter 15

Annabeth was alone.

One second, the cat who called himself the Narrator was there, on her shoulder, telling her about Stanley, and the next second, he was gone. At first she’d thought he’d fallen off, but after she didn’t get a reply when she called for him (and he never shut up), she knew he had somehow just… disappeared.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 2

 Shit. Goddamn it.

 Of course literally right after he makes a deal to protect these kids something happens. Xigbar bit back the urge to mutter to himself as he tied his hair back, throwing a glance around the room. He'd waited hours after all the commotion to move again, so, reasonably, everyone should be asleep again.

 Even so, it would be a bad idea to just get up and walk out. Not with everything that had happened tonight. Everyone in the cabin was already on edge, and he didn't need to add to that.

 One more once over for the room. Everything was still, quiet. Xigbar had checked several times over at this point, but he couldn't be too careful. Forgoing walking out the front door, he teleported himself out of the cabin, well into the treeline so that even if someone looked out the window immediately, they wouldn't see him.

 That kid, whoever he was, had left a clear trail to follow. Even if he hadn't meant to, the cat that attacked him had ripped his face open enough for him to leave a path of blood. It almost made Xigbar wish he had left the cat on a little bit longer, but despite his 'job', he had other priorities. Not being woken up in the middle of the night by a screaming feral cat, for one. And for two, not having the competition see him in his stupid "milfin' ain't easy" shirt. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

 It didn't take him long to find the kid, the one who had attacked one of the 'Team Lit's. Percy. One of the only ones who had never lost, he recalled. Xigbar teleported up into a tree overlooking the small clearing where he saw the guy, and summoned his arrowguns. It would've been easy to take him out now.

 At least… if the kid hadn't somehow noticed him.

  Xigbar swore under his breath. So much for making this fast and quiet. The instant the guy went for his sword, Xigbar fired. The guy fell to the ground, clutching his hand. Blood poured from the rather large wound into the dirt.

 Xigbar stepped off of the tree branch and landed light as a cat on the ground. The kid tried to scramble back to his feet, but it only earned him another bolt wound, this time in his thigh. The kid looked up at him, fear clear in his swollen, cat scratched face.

 Dismissing his weapons, Xigbar reached down and snatched the sword from his hands. It was a fine blade, beautiful and razor sharp. If he was any kind of swordsman, he'd have been tempted to take it.

 "Nothing personal, kid. Just business."

 And with little fanfare, he plunged the sword straight through the guy's chest and into the ground.

 Now he just had one more thing to do.

~~~

  "You killed Castellan? I didn't tell you to do that. They'll suspect we're working together. This arrangement doesn't exactly work if your cover is blown."

 "Well, you weren't there, now were you, doll?" Xigbar all but snapped, stifling a yawn. He had been up until dawn, and frankly, was not in the mood to deal with anyone, much less The Showrunner. "I did what I needed to do. Get over it. Either trust me to make calls to protect your precious boys, or lose the control you have over them. Your call."

 Showie huffed. Shrugging, Xigbar turned away. "I'm just saying. Trust is a two way street here, doll."

 "Ironic you say that, considering you and I both know you don't trust me ."

 "You got me there." He snorted. "Maybe if you'd put some faith in me, that could change." He turned back to her, his arms crossed.

 "Just… No more killing." Showie sighed, waving her hand dismissively at him. "Not unless I give the order."

 "Fine, whatever.”

 Not noticing the pair of bright green eyes watching from a dark corner, Xigbar looped an arm around Showie's waist. The feline eyes flashed in alarm, then disappeared. "Come on, you know you like m-" Showie's weirdly strong fist caught him square in the chest, right over the 'aint' on his shirt. Xigbar doubled over, wheezing and clutching his chest.

 "No."

 "... Got it."

... That punch did not feel like plastic.

#### (The Things I Do Chapter 1,

This wasn’t the weirdest thing Butler had done to protect Artemis during his 14 years of employment. Or the most dangerous.

It was, however, the most embarrassing.

Butler was sat in a sort of dressing room on a chair that was too small for him. He still felt a prickle on the back of his neck from the humiliation of the last round. Not only did he have to stand on the stage and be objectified for 24 hours, they also used the least flattering photo he’d ever seen in his life . He lost. Bad.

But for whatever reason, the person running this thing had allowed him to advance to the next round, so now he was in a dressing room with a giant rat (who had lost by far less than he did. The photo was that bad) and a white fox.

The rat was currently scraping his front teeth on a human skull.

The fox seemed more familiar, but Butler wasn’t sure why. A soldier’s instinct, perhaps. He (the fox) was currently attempting to walk through a mirror. It wasn’t working.

“Zounds,” said the fox, in an intonation Butler almost recognized, “The blasted mirror doesn’t even work.” The fox shook his fluffy white head in disgust, “To think the maggot’s trapped in that grotty death match of a tournament- he’s useless on his own-”

Butler froze. “Alastor?”

The fox’s head snapped towards Butler, “Ah. You.”

“Aren’t you in the- with-”

“I was. Admittedly I’m not sure how I got out.”

Butler stood, “Is Artemis-”

Alastor rolled his eyes, “Yes, he’s fine. The Showrunner has taken quite a liking to him. He’ll be fine no matter how many times he dies.”

Butler didn’t like the sound of that.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 3,

Xigbar slowly sat up, dazed and bleary eyed. He'd been through this once before. When… oh no.

 His gaze snapped around the room, taking in every last detail of his surroundings. Combination hotel room/dressing room. A full stock of outfits and all sorts of things to make him look all pretty. Of course he was back in here. The Fuckable Old Man Battle. He groaned and slapped his hand over his face. Why did every time he came in here have to feel like a hangover?

 Well, at least the showrunner here actually liked him. Or, they seemed to. It would be a nice break from getting treated like a servant. Xigbar had offered to be an enforcer to Showie, not spend three and a half hours trying to scrub tomato soup out of that damn rug. The stain never did come out.

 Sure, he'd be spending who knows how long standing on stages and getting ogled, but the attention was flattering. As long as he didn't get pit against heavy hitters like that one guy – Stan Pines – again, he'd essentially just be listening to people say how hot he was. He already knew, but it's still good to hear. Get that ego boost.

 He got to his feet, stretching. This was going to be easy. And, thankfully, he got put back in his coat instead of the milf shirt. A brightly colored 'Welcome Back :D" banner hung over the door. Hopefully this meant the bias he commanded was still there.

 Of course, if it wasn't, that begged the question: if he lost, would he get sent back to White Boy Bracket, or would he end up on some random, but familiar, world? If he did, it had better not end up being Olympus Colusseum. If he had to break barrels for that little goat man One More Time…

 Whatever. Not like he needed to worry about that. He was a legacy competitor, after all. He picked up the paper with the bracket on it from the welcome basket. The listings got updated every round… seems he showed up a little late to this one. Missed round 1.

 As he went over the remaining competitors, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow to some. Vexen made it past round 1, but Xehanort got knocked out almost immediately? Big change since the last time he was here. He'd have to go congratulate that weird little nerd at some point. It's about time he actually won one of these things. Even more surprising was that the Master had lost round 1. Of course he had gotten himself rigged into round 2, though. He was just like that.

 The amount of red in the listing surprised him. That was way more rigging than before. Someone's getting comfortable. Ah, well. Not like he really cared. Not as long as he kept the amount of power he had here.

 Wait.

 'Team They Said Please'. 'Team Lit'. Alastor. Those names were from White Boy Bracket.

 Was Showie here, too? And if that was the case, why was she being so much nicer to him now? Especially after punching him like that. His chest still hurt. Frankly, Xigbar was surprised it hadn't bruised yet. Her fist felt like a damn rock.

 No, he decided. She couldn't be here. She would've said something. Not to mention, she wouldn't have tried to kill him so hard if she had been running this tournament too.

 If anyone here was going to be pulling a long con like that, it was going to be him.

 He set the paper down and stepped out of his room into the hall. Everything still looked the same as before, some kind of weird retirement home/5 star hotel amalgamation. There were mostly new faces (was that a moon?), but there were more than enough people he recognized, one of which being the competitor he had paid off last time. As Xigbar passed him, the guy gave him a polite nod.

 Team They Said Please. That's where he was supposed to be. One problem; he had no idea who Team They Said Please was. He should've gotten a list with the bracket, but the showrunner here was scatterbrained. Xigbar remembered the fiasco of the original round 1, where contestants got mixed up and left out, and the showrunner had to scramble to make new matchups.

 "Anyone know who Team They Said Please is?" He called out to the room. Most contestants were milling around, but Xigbar noted the Master wasn't in the room. It was almost a relief. He didn't want to see him here. That would be awkward and weird.

 "Ah, a fellow team member!” a Britishy voice rung out. “That would be myself and--”

 The man stopped and stare at Xigbar. He was an overweight gentleman wearing a crop top that said ‘Barbie Girl’ and booty shorts that said ‘the end is never the end’ around the cuffs.

“...One.” The man said, his voice becoming more disdainful. “Ah, hello. Rafter hooligan.”

 "Excuse me."

 “I said what I said.” The man says. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to team up with you.”

 "You think I want to team up with anyone?" Xigbar scoffed. "As if. I didn't even want to come back here. Even if I did, I do this solo."

 “Then please, excuse yourself.” The man said, turning around to reveal that his shorts said ‘ENEMY OF THE STATE’. “Myself and One should be quite fuckable enough for this crowd.”

 "Yeah, against Team Lit. Sure. You don't know how this place works, do you?" He crossed his arms. "This competition is all about making yourself likable to the Showrunner. Not the crowd. And I'm the favorite. Reigning champ." A flex, but a necessary one.

 The man turned back around. He seemed skeptical, but still… buying it. “Alright.” he muttered. “Fine. I suppose we could at least… cooperate. Purely for tactical purposes. And One deserves to have a say in our team composition… you can at least come back to our team room for now.”

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 4))

 A swimsuit contest?

 That was new. Xigbar looked down at the… real skimpy outfit that had been left out for him. It would fit, but only just barely. For all his bravado and all his smugness… this was going to be uncomfortable. It's been a while since he was that exposed to… Really, anyone. Hasn't gotten laid in who knows how long.

 Even worse was the fact that his so-called 'teammates' (the ragdoll, 1, was way better company than The Narrator, that was for sure,) would be seeing him like this. Sure, they'd be wearing bikinis too, but theirs were more standard. His seemed to be… specially designed . At least the Showrunner still seemed to have him as a favorite, if the election fraud last round had anything to say about it.

 "You guys aren't going to come out and say you got special bikinis too, are ya?"

 The Narrator strode out from behind the changing screen, and showed off a rather average-looking bikini-- skimpy, plain black, accenting his soft figure nicely. He thoughtfully produced some… tentacles?-- from who knows where, and then nodded happily.

 “No, I’m afraid not, Ziggy.” the Narrator said, looking over Xigbar’s outfit. “Though, I must say, yours looks to be made with love! And it does show off your figure in a pleasant sort of way. For you, of course.”

 "... What the hell is that supposed to mean." Xigbar waved his hand at him, the other pinching the bridge of his nose irritably. "Don't answer that, it was rhetorical. I don't have time to listen to you go off on some tangent."

 “I was trying to be nice.” the Narrator huffed, as 1 came out from his miniature changing-room (it was really just a shoebox turned on its side).

 1’s bikini was a dark blue color, with some strappy accents. It looked strange, not really showing off his skin, but instead revealing his… fabric? It didn’t feel as risque, quite honestly. But still, 1’s demeanor was confident and coquette-esque. Co…quesque?

 "Whatever. I gotta change," Xigbar muttered, snatching his outfit off the table and stalking off behind the changing curtain. There were more scars than he remembered, but… this could work. The outfit would set him apart, considering from what he could tell, pretty much everyone else had basic bitch bikinis.

 "If you need me, I'll be out there. Don't need me ." Without looking back, Xigbar left the room and went into the common area. If anyone else was nervous, he could psyche them out by showing as confident as possible. It could dock them points and get him farther. … Not that he needed it. Election fraud was on his side; he didn't need even ONE vote to keep going.

 As he passed through the common area, it was pretty easy to tell who was nervous. "LOOKIN' GOOD, VEXEN!" He yelled from across the room, wolf whistling. The scientist in question flushed bright red and ducked back into his room. He heard a couple groans, along with an "oh god not him " from elsewhere in the room. It took all his self control to hold back the shit eating grin that was trying to creep its way onto his face.

 Xigbar sidled up by a couple other contenders who looked particularly uncomfortable and leaned on the wall. Before he could say anything, he caught a couple of names in their hushed whispers. Dipper, and Artemis.

 This was going to be interesting.

 The larger of the two men- by a lot , was wearing a pink and white polka-dotted bikini. He smirked to himself. Showie would approve, he thought, recalling the color of the spikes he’d been repeatedly shoved into. The man gave him a tactical sort of look- like he thought Xigbar was hiding some kind of weapon. As if. There wasn’t anywhere he could keep one. Unless… ;)

 The man looked like he was trying to intimidate him. It wasn’t working. “Was that the name Artemis I heard?”

 Silence.

 “That wouldn’t be Artemis Fowl , would it?”

 Silence. And a big boy glare. Oooh, scary. Smaller guy didn’t look too happy, either, in his yellow little number.

 “And… Dipper?”

 Scowl.

 “Wouldn’t wanna be those guys, let me tell you,” He said, feigning a good natured laugh, “White Boy Bracket? Ha! The Showrunner’s gone off the deep end! It’s a death match now.” He grinned at the bigger one, “You know, the spikes they’re getting pushed into are the same color as your little bikini there?”

 “Of course-” He added, seeing how the bigger one reached for an imaginary gun, “I know Showie. Oh, she’s a doll . Perfectly nice when she isn’t trying to kill you. Or if you’re one of her favorites.”

“Favorites?” The bigger one asked, “Like-”

 “Yeah, like Jason Grace! You’ve got it! Let him fly right out of the spike pit! I'd keep an eye on your boy out there, though… he's starting to flounder… Butler. I got there, what, halfway through? Instantly started winning in a landslide. ”

Of course, those landslides occurred in elimination rounds, but Butler didn’t need to know that.

He teleported a few feet away before Butler could make a grab at him. Which he did. It was too easy to get under that guy's skin. Xigbar almost felt bad for him.

 … Almost.

 “And, uh… ‘Grunkle Ford’? Your little care package didn’t make it through,” He faked a little frown, “Good old Showie had her army turn those offerings inside out.”

 At the sound of his name and the news, Ford looked like he was about to beat the shit out of Xigbar. Good :).

 He would've winked, if not for the missing eye. " Ciao. "

As if on cue, the announcement for the matches to start went off. This was going to be so easy, it wasn't even funny.

#### ((Tournament Chapter 16)

The Showrunner pulled out her hot-pink laptop, placed it on her lap, and lounged back in her loveseat.

Stanley had lost his mouth; as the Showrunner, it was her duty to fix that. She had put off doing it for a bit– Stanley was just Stanley, and she had hoped that the solution might come to fruition on its own– but a full round had progressed, and he was still without a mouth.

That just wouldn’t do.

She searched up ‘Stanley Parable’ in Yahoo, and clicked on the first link.

She skimmed through the advertisement for the game, and saw… no.

No! No, this couldn’t… no.

‘You will make a choice, and you will have your choices taken from you.’

No, no he–

‘You are not here to win. The Stanley Parable is a game that plays you.’

And she saw– oh.

That- that Narrator. She knew he was trouble! And now– now she knows his true nature. How he had made Stanley. How he had played with him. How he had acted affectionate towards him– no, she wouldn’t let this stand. Stanley was– and then, there, it said here that he sometimes destroyed him-

Feeling distress rise in her chest, she typed “https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard” into her search bar and hit ‘enter’. She typed “stanley parable” into the tumblr search bar and saw- well. Art people had drawn, post people made, all very clearly pointing to Stanley being controlled, having no choice- the Narrator- the dictator- controlled every aspect of his life! He saw a post about him turning away someone trying to check in on Stanley- a cage?!

M- maybe she was wrong. She typed “Narrator Parable” into the tumblr search bar, and saw- was… was that art of Stanley killing himself?

She pressed her lips together and scrolled a bit further. She saw someone posting about… the “countdown” ending… they seemed lustful towards the narrator… she clicked on the video they had linked…

He blew him up?!

Oh, no, she was not wrong. This Narrator was just like, just like-

Her breath came in short gasps, and suddenly the cloak felt too heavy, too hot- she was sweating now, and her makeup would run-

She wasn’t wearing her heels, and her feet clinked across the marble floor as she ran as well as she could into the bathroom. She splashed her face, the cool water calming her, the runoff colored the pale color of the makeup she put all over her skin.

She had to get- she- Stanley was already away from him, but- was that- was that all she could d- ANNABETH. That girl was, what, 17? And she’d-

She felt hot with panic, and quickly grabbed some foundation powder and applied it to her face rather carelessly.

She ran out of the room, then- stupid, stupid, stupid- ran right back in, tripping over herself and landing with a thunk.

“Ow, ow, ow,” She whimpered, crawling across the floor to her cloak and pulling it on. She pulled herself to her feet using her chair and then slipped a pair of wedge heels onto her feet- these would help her run more steadily.

Limping slightly from the fall, she hurried out of her apartment and into the adjacent, heart shaped room where she kept her… terrariums. She rushed over to the ornate, Victorian style dollhouse she’d retrofitted and, hands shaking, makeup dripping, pulled out a key and swung open the front.

Annabeth looked up at her, clearly startled. She brandished some kind of weapon- The Showrunner wasn’t sure where she’d gotten that, but all the better to defend herself from-

Where was he?

The- the Narrator wasn’t in the-

She grabbed Annabeth (gently- The Showrunner liked Annabeth) and pulled her away from the dollhouse. The girl was only a little bigger than The Showrunner’s hand. Annabeth’s makeshift dagger clinked harmlessly against her skin.

She searched thoroughly. No. Oh, he was gone alright.

She walked a few feet over to an unused terrarium- this one like a cabin, with a small grassy area and a sand pit with a tetherball. A safe terrarium. One the Narrator had never been in.

She lifted the glass dome and set Annabeth gently inside, quickly closing it. She latched the bottom up safely. Annabeth would be safe here. No creator-predator would get Annabeth as long as she stayed safely inside of that dome.

The Showrunner crossed back over to the dollhouse and latched it tight. If the narrator returned, he’d be locked in there alone.

Now, to find him.

#### Keep Your Friends Close 5

  Xigbar was right. That last round was a cinch. Just like the last time he'd gone up against that one guy, Illidan, he swept. People loved the bikini he'd been put in, apparently. Showrunner here knew their audience.

 Ah, well. Who cares. At least now he could finally change back into something that actually had more than a scrap of fabric. The people loved his coat, for some reason.

 Granted, the thing was basically skintight. Not a lot was left to the imagination.

 He was going to fully avoid people while waiting for this round. Or, at least, he was going to fully avoid his team members. Specifically, The Narrator. Fuck that guy. If it wouldn't be a waste of a bolt, Xigbar would've been tempted to shoot him a thousand times over by now.

 He crossed the common area, he could see Butler and Ford staring daggers at him. If looks could kill… Xigbar smirked to himself and gave them a one handed, wiggly fingered wave. Just to throw some salt in the wound of him knowing so much more than they wanted him to, and all the poking and jabbing he had done towards them the day before.

 He was trying to rile them up. If they wanted to take the bait, that was on them.

~~~

 This round, as usual, he was sweeping. He had been put up against Team Lit, and while they didn’t seem to be the strongest bunch of contenders, their name alone gave Xigbar some… discomfort. After all, it was the name of the clear favorites in White Boy Bracket.

 But this? This was a landslide victory. He had this in the bag; the only downside would have to be that the fucking Narrator was just going to get more confident. He was insufferable enough.

 Xigbar smiled as the final results came in, Team They Said Please firmly ahead, easily victorious.

 And then…

 A voice rang out.

 “FUCK YOU TEAM LIT WINS.”

 It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, the sound of this person permeating the very fabric of reality.

 Xigbar smirked, and then… then it hit him.

 ‘Fuck you’-- no, no, he’d already won! He didn’t– and he wasn’t a part of Team Lit!

  How the fuck could he lose??? Was the power of Team Lit really that strong? He thought he was the favorite by this tournament’s Showrunner!

 Maybe it was that Narrator– he was really annoying. Yes, that was it. The Showrunner couldn’t bear to see someone advance so far. It had nothing to do with Xigbar!

 And yet…

 Xigbar could see that Ford Pines was being welcomed onto Team Lit. And he barely fit the criteria! He wasn’t even from a book, he’d just… written some books. Xigbar could write! Why wasn’t he being invited to join Team Lit? He was so fuckable, anyone would want to have him on their team, just to boost their odds!

 But no. He was out. He was out, and… he could feel the pull of the White Boy Bracket dragging him in, like some sort of black hole. He struggled against it, clawing his way back into the Fuckable Old Man Battle. He knew that the only reason he had enough of a foothold that he did was because of his spacial powers. Anyone else would've been sucked back already. The Narrator was already gone.

 After what seemed like hours of struggling, Xigbar slipped. In that instant, he was transported back outside the White Boy Cabin. It was the middle of the night, by the looks of it. On the ground in front of him was a gift basket (he specifically noted the bikini he'd been given folded on top of some of the items) with a note inside. "Sorry. I didn't want to do that. It was necessary," it read.

 Necessary?! What the fuck could've been necessary about stealing his win?! He earned that shit for having to deal with the Narrator! It was funny when he stole other people's wins, not when his got stolen!

 Xigbar let out a frustrated groan and kicked the wall. He put up with so much and for what.

 After stashing the gift basket under his bed, Xigbar warped back outside. He had to go update Showie on what all had happened.

#### (Tournament Chapter 17)

The Showrunner sat on the edge of a bathtub the same color as her skin, a black robe pulled tight across her body. She’d washed the makeup off of her arms and face- it was ruined anyway- and now she was going to take a cool bath to calm down. Annabeth was safe. Even though the Narrator was nowhere to be found, Annabeth was safe.

She let out a shaky breath. Right. Annabeth. Because that’s what this was about. Sure.

She slowly put her legs into the water, watching as the water began to color the pale color of her foundation. A tear slipped down her face. She was safe. She was safe.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to relax. Safe. Safe.

A crash sounded from the main room, and she let out a shriek, falling onto her back with a very heavy thunk .

Ow.

See, that's the problem with warping into a space Xigbar had never been into before. No telling where furniture or whatever would be. He slowly, painfully, peeled himself out of the wreckage of what used to be a coffee table.

 "Fuck." That's going to be fun to explain. At least no part of him was broken. Very bruised, but not broken. "Hey Showie? You in here?" He called out. Not going to acknowledge the broken table or the fact that he's covered in splinters. Nope. Definitely not. He had nothing to do with it, clearly. You're crazy.

He heard a clinking noise and looked up and saw-

Xigbar! She felt panic rise in her chest again (this was getting exhausting)- but found herself frozen like a deer in the headlights. He appeared to have destroyed her table.

 "Hm. Guess I was wrong." Was the only comment Xigbar made as he took in her appearance. Surprising, considering he was the type to always have some smartass, insulting comment on hand. He knows the limit.

"... You okay?" Clearly she wasn't, but you know. It's the thought that counts, right?

She looked like she didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I-I…” She pulled her black (he was noticing a pattern) bathrobe tight, like she was hugging herself, “Have you seen the Narrator? That cat? The British one?” Her voice sounded small. Frightened.

 "Yeah, but last time I checked, he wasn't a cat. We got stuck in a different tournament and ended up being forced to be a team." He waved his hand dismissively. "Definitely not my first choice. Didn't want anything to do with that guy, but it worked, I guess. Why?"

“Can… can you…?” She held out a little chain. It had a heart shaped little skeleton key on the end of it.

He stepped forward, and she said, “In the next room, there’s a dollhouse? The victorian one? Can you see if he’s in there? Unlock it with the key.”

 "Uh… Yeah, I guess." He turned, then turned back. "You, uh… You need anything?" He asked, sucking his teeth. He had no idea how to deal with women anymore. Especially not ghostly pale, shambling messes of women that punch like a semi truck.

“Just… put him somewhere he can’t get m- Annabeth. Please.”

 "... Yeah. Sure."

 Xigbar didn't know what to make of this. But… if the Narrator was freaking her out that much, he would take care of it. It's his job. No other reason.

 Taking the key, he unlocked the dollhouse and opened it up.

   “Is he in there?”

“Oh, hello? Ziggy-bar? Are you here to let me out? OH-- WHAT ARE YOU-- Ziggles!! Put me DOWN!”

 Xigbar came back into the room, shaking a snowglobe with one hand and wearing a shit eating grin. "Yeah, he was in there. I put him in the snowglobe. Not gettin' out of there anytime soon."

 “The- he’s in a-?” She cautiously leaned closer as if to look. Xigbar stopped shaking the snowglobe so she could see. Sure enough, there was the Narrator, swirling around in the currents and being battered by the flecks of glitter in the water.

Her stark white lips formed the first real smile he’d seen from her- if a weak one. She chuckled. Once.

 "You wanna shake it?" Was his only question.

Her smile grew (her lips the same color as her teeth), and she hesitantly reached out, but suddenly pulled back halfway through, like she was trying to make herself touch a stove that might be hot. She certainly didn’t seem as upset anymore when she said, “Y- you do it. More.” She shared Xigbar’s grin.

 Faint, British screaming could be heard through the glass as Xigbar vigorously gave the snowglobe a few more shakes.

 "Call me Rafter Hooligan one more time ," he all but shouted at the snowglobe.

 “You know he called you that in the cabin, too?”

 He swirled the snowglobe around like a glass of wine, watching the Narrator struggle in the resulting current. Ha.

 “Ha,” Showie laughed quietly.

 Xigbar slipped the snowglobe back into his pocket and patted it (a faint ‘oomf!’ could be heard from within).

 “How about we play a little trick on Team Leverage?”

 “Team… Leverage?” She asked.

 “They’ve started coming up with their own names, now.”

 “Hm.” She sounded displeased. “Alright, what trick?”

 “How about you open up that food form again? There’s something I want snuck in.”

#### Tournament Chapter 18)

The Narrator had been gone for a few days, and Annabeth was back to her usual activity- using her dagger to scrape an escape tunnel out of a wall.

She’d picked the outer wall of the kitchen- it appeared to be on ground level, so she figured it was safe to exit that way, and it was on the opposite side of the house as the front door, so if the Showrunner came to check on her, She’d just see Annabeth hunched over in the corner, not digging a tunnel. Not that she expected the Showrunner to come check on her. She’d never actually seen the Showrunner, just felt her general presence through the appearance of the Narrator, and the occasional noise coming from some room outside of the dollhouse.

Speaking of noises from the other room- an earth shattering thunk , and then what sounded like a huge door crashing open and banging into the opposite wall.

Annabeth started, getting to her feet and watching in horror as there was a sound of metal twisting against metal, and then the house swung open along the seam she’d identified that ran up and down the length of every room.

The Showrunner stared down at her, a bewildered and frightened expression on her face. She looked like a Barbie doll that’d had some of the features melted with a magnifying glass. Annabeth took a step back, but the Showrunner reached a massive hand into the kitchen and grabbed Annabeth, pinning her arms to her sides. Annabeth wrenched an arm out- her dagger arm- and attempted to stab The Showrunner’s hand, only for every blow to be deflected off with a clink, clink, clink.

The Showrunner peered into every room of the dollhouse. The more Annabeth struggled, the more… powder? Wet powder. Came off onto her clothes.

Whatever the Showrunner was looking for, she didn’t find it. She crossed over to a dome and opened it, placing Annabeth inside. She latched the dome, then latched the dollhouse, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Annabeth scraped some of the skin colored paste off of her arms and clothes. And she could see the color, because this dome was outfitted with what looked like a lightbulb where the sun would be. She looked behind her and-

Oh, this was cruel.

A cabin. The Showrunner was taunting her with a taste of home. There was also a kind of lawn, and a sandpit with a tetherball.

She walked inside the cabin. It didn’t look like the Athena cabin, which was a relief. It was just a generic cabin. It could probably be found at any summer camp.

Annabeth picked a bed and sat down. She wondered why the Showrunner hadn’t confiscated her dagger. She wondered why the Showrunner had looked so afraid.

But she wasn’t wondering long, because about 10 minutes later, two more earth shatter crashes came from the other room, muffled by the glass dome.

Not long after that, Annabeth- through the window of the cabin- saw a man who appeared to be trying to twin with the Showrunner, outfit-wise, enter the room and open the dollhouse. He pulled out… the Narrator? Somehow?

Annabeth got to her feet and rushed to the edge of the dome, hitting the glass. The man, who had long brown and gray hair, looked over at her. Great. Get his attention. Because that was smart!

He didn’t come over to her though. Instead, he smiled, and appeared to get an idea.

He produced a snowglobe from his coat, and with a snap of his fingers, the Narrator was trapped inside.

She hoped he could breathe underwater.

#### Some Worth In Life Chapter 3 [Bitter dreaming, sweet waking]

The elimination round had ended, and Stanley was looking for help.

Not for himself, no. His mouth… he had a few ideas in that regard, after speaking to some of the more powerful white boys (and, some of the new arrivals). His will…

He wasn’t going to tell anyone about his will. He could nearly feel it, about as sturdy as a soggy paper bag. He couldn’t tell anyone about his will, because the amount of danger and risk that would put him in was so much worse than the possibility they could fix it.

Stanley was going to get Narry back, and then Narry was going to help fix Stanley back into his default state. That was the best plan, the plan least likely to go wrong.

But in the meantime, Stanley was looking for help.

For Cesare.

Stanley clutched the necklace he had been given. It was very valuable, very useful, and if he played his cards right, it would let Cesare wake up.

Stanley sat by Cesare now, glancing around the common area. He’d asked the Line™ and the Timekeeper to bring back someone to help. And while neither of them were currently visible, Stanley wasn’t concerned. The Timekeeper often liked skulking about, and the Line™ often preferred to snake along the floor two-dimensionally.

Stanley tapped at the ground anxiously, and then he quickly reached out, grasped the Hug button, and gave it a firm push.

He missed his Narrator. He hoped and fucking prayed that Narry was feeling those hugs– that he was alright enough to register that input– because if he wasn’t, Stanley was going to kill.

“Yes, yes, I am coming.” a luscious voice murmured.

Stanley looked up to see a man who looked rather bird-like– his hair was black and tufted in a manner reminiscent of bird down; he wore a long, sweeping cloak that was black and iridescent at the same time, like the feathers of a raven; and his face was quite firmly calm, clearly a practiced expression.

The man strode over to Stanley, being led by the Adventure Line™.

“I understand you need help with something concerning your sleeping friend?” he said easily. “I am Dream of the Endless. I believe I can help.”

[You can wake him up?] Stanley signed hopefully.

“Indeed I can. He is asleep, and all that happens while dreaming is well within my power. But I will need to see your… amulet.”

Stanley picked at the skin near his cuticle. [Yes.] he signed. [I– I am willing to trade it, for Cesare to be able to wake up.]

He held the necklace up and showed it to Dream. Dream leaned in, his dark eyes flitting over the metalwork, and then he nodded.

“Then we have a deal, Stanley Parable. I shall aid you and your companion, and you shall gift me your amulet in return.”

Stanley nods. [So, uh– how do we do this]

“We will enter his dream.” Dream said, as if it was no more a challenge than taking a stroll.

[We will?] Stanley signs with hesitancy. [Uh… okay? What do we need to do to do that?]

“Oh, not a thing.” Dream said, breezily waving his hand in the air. “We can enter his dream and his mind and find him now, if you wish it.”

[Now?] Stanley signed. [Is there something I should do to… I don’t know, prepare? I’ve never been in a person’s dreams before.]

Dream laughed a light chuckle. “You will be accompanied by me, Stanley Parable. You will not have anything to fear from dreams whilst you are with Dream himself.”

Dream smiled in the way a fox might, extended his hand, and Stanley took hold.

He held Dream's hand, and he lost all hold on the waking world.

\*\*\*

Cesare’s mind was a scrambled, twisting mess. Hallways turned in on themselves in non-euclidean ways; half of the time the horizon looked to be painted; and everything was colored in a strange sort of black-and-white way.

Stanley grimaced; this was far worse than anything he had experienced before in the Parable. He looked over at Dream, who was standing at calm attention.

“When you’re ready.” he muttered softly. “I will guide you, Stanley Parable.”

Stanley nodded, taking a moment to gather his bearings. He breathed in, out. Hey, he has his mouth in the dream! That’s nice.

He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Cesare. He’s here for Cesare.

He opened them again, looked Dream in the eye, and nodded.

[Please.]

Dream immediately began walking off in an elegant sort of stride, much like a dancer. He is fully at ease and in control in the realm of Dreaming. Here, in Cesare’s slumber, Dream was comfortable, collected– truly, he was in his element.

“This one’s mind is damaged.” Dream murmured with sorrow. “I have never seen such wounds to a mind; some as deep as his, yes. And some left from a similar source. But this… Stanley Parable, do you know what did this? Was it the woman running the tournament?”

[No, no. This happened before he came here.]

“I see. And– well, of course, you do not have to share it.”

[I won’t.] Stanley signed adamantly. He couldn’t imagine sharing what Cesare had told him about Dr. Caligari with Dream. It was personal, what Cesare had said.

But, as they continued to walk the landscape of Cesare’s mind… Stanley began to recognize things.

First there was a box. A wooden box, about the size of a coffin, though nowhere near as elegant.

That was Cesare’s box, Stanley knew it. The one that the Doctor had held him in, as if Cesare was nothing more than some furniture, to be taken out when needed and stored away in the smallest place imaginable otherwise.

He made no mention of this to Dream– again, it wouldn’t be right to share something like that without Cesare’s consent. Even if they were literally inside of Cesare’s mind and dreams, Stanley didn’t need to do that.

Then, there was a sign.

It was advertising Cesare; it was one of Caligari’s. The Miraculous Cesare– No, no, Stanley didn’t want to look at that. He turned his gaze elsewhere, but it only landed on a tent with a poster of Cesare, and–

Stanley felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Dream, whose mouth was still set in a stoic line, but… his eyes, they were wider, and filled with concern.

“He had been made to act while dreaming,” Dream said with anger. “His mind has been taken advantage of whilst he was asleep.”

[Yes.] Stanley signed, hesitantly. [Is that… a problem?]

“It is quite the problem that such a thing was done at all.” Dream says, his voice low and dangerous. “Dreams are my realm. The sleeping are my domain. It is something… repulsive, to even think of.”

Stanley nodded softly. [It was.. Dr. Caligari. He received Cesare at the Holstenwall Asylum, and… used him. Bent his will, compelled him to do Caligari’s bidding.]

Dream nearly growls at that, and then shakes his head. “No. I will not let such a thing stand. Stanley Parable, I do not think I will be able to heal the fractures in Cesare’s mind, but I shall at least cause him to wake. And I will do this without the need of your amulet as payment– he is a somnambulist; a dreamwalker; he should have the freedom to at least be able to dream in a manner befitting his own will.”

Dream strided further on through Cesare’s mind, and the deeper they get–

Fuck, what is there is horrifying.

Caligari molding Cesare, conditioning him, hypnotizing him. Touching Cesare’s body, feeding him, taking care of him– but there is no love there. No, Caligari treats Cesare as an item, as a tool– and Stanley wants to fucking kill Caligari more than anything for the pain he put Cesare through.

Dream strode on, growing more enraged the deeper into the dream they went, until both of them reached the center.

It’s oddly calm, oddly still, oddly peaceful here. The dream, and the memories attached, had been growing steadily more and more disturbing, painful, traumatic. And then–

Stanley and Dream found themselves in a small room, a large queen bed with a canopy taking up at least half of the space. Cesare’s eyes were shut softly, his posture tender, his face clean and clear of makeup. He looked healthier here than Stanley has ever seen him before.

The floor and bed were covered in a carpet of white flowers, all delicately sprinkled out. The light that came in felt like that of an easy morning in the middle of spring; clean, cool, bright.

But Stanley stepped onto the petals and walked over to his friend.

Dream looked on and nodded, as Stanley reached out to tap Cesare on the shoulder.

Cesare’s eyes gently fluttered awake, his face becoming at once surprised and disappointed and overjoyed, and then–

Then, Cesare had woken up.

Then, the dream ended.

Stanley sat next to Cesare, as Cesare moved, stirring awake. He grinned at Stanley in his odd way– his mouth wide like an anglerfish, rather disturbing, but still full of and coming from a place of genuine mirth and joy.

-Stanley.- Cesare said, as his eyes grew wide and he looked around, fully awake. -You came for me.-

[Of course.] Stanley signed earnestly.

Dream nodded at Stanley softly, and then he strode off.

[Of course.] Stanley signed again, looking Cesare in the eyes. He reached out, lightly touching Cesare’s hands.

[We’re a team. We’re friends. We stick together .]

#### Team Leverage

Magnus, Stanley (with the Timekeeper- this Octopus thing- resting on his shoulder) and I were sitting in a circle in the grass outside the cabin.

Stanley was the one to start the conversation. He pulled out his amulet, the charm glinting in the sunlight, and signed out a message. As he did so, the octopus on his shoulder spoke– seeming to interpret Stanley’s signs.

“So… how does this work? What exactly… does it do?”

“They’re amulets- I got them from- From Carter,” I fidgeted with Riptide in pen form, “They act as a sort of mental link- you can use them to talk to each other, but you can also summon people through if they’re also wearing one. Sadie and her friend Walt used them to trick some goddess that was hunting them.”

Stanley examined his necklace with more care, and draped it around his neck.

“I see. I had assumed they were powerful, given that the showrunner had given them to her… ‘favorites’... but that’s… quite a lot. We could definitely use that to gain some sort of advantage against her.”

The octopus moved around, and then started speaking independently.

“I think I may have a general idea of where the Narrator is.” he said. “I… feel a sort of pull to beings that originated in the Parable. I know where the Line™ is right now, even though I can’t see it. And the Narrator’s much farther away, but… I’m relatively sure he’s still in the arena. Past the death zone but still… there.”

“Alright.” I said, nodding at the Timekeeper. “That’s a good sign! So, now we just need to find a way into the arena, and then… to Annabeth.”

“And the Narrator.” the octopus added for Stanley. “If… if we can get one person with a necklace to the spot where they’re being kept, then we can get all of us, right? Just… have them summon us all through?”

“Yeah.” Magnus said, “Yeah, that could work. But we’d still have to have one of us get there.”

The four of us sat in silence for a bit, until an idea came to me.

“Who says it has to be one of us?”

Stanley looked up in confusion, as Magnus’s eyes lit up with inspiration.

“There’s still the original amulets that Team Lit had. We can use those. And if we got Firestar or Graystripe to sneak in… they’d have a much better shot of not being spotted.” I continued.

Stanley tapped his chin thoughtfully, and then nodded.

“I like this plan.” Magnus said with enthusiasm. “And, if the necklaces can make a mental link, the Timekeeper could still guide one of the cats in the right general direction. Right?”

The Timekeeper nodded, and then waved one of his tentacles in a so-so kind of way.

“I get the feeling that it's… near the back. I might be able to tell more, but… I think that the general direction should be enough. The arena is large, but it’s not… impossible to find something that’s inside it.”

Stanley pressed his hug button thoughtfully, and then looked up.

“It would have to be Graystripe, though?” he asked, his hands flowing smoothly, like he was really starting to get into this whole plan– like he was feeling more confident. “Since Graystripe isn’t a competitor; he’d actually be able to sneak through, while the match was going on.”

“Yeah.” I said, fiddling with Riptide thoughtfully. “Yeah, it would. But we’ll probably still need to talk to Firestar– Graystripe wouldn’t listen to us. And, if we’re using the mental link bit of the amulets, it’d probably be a good idea to tell the rest of Team Lit.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Magnus asked nervously. “I don’t know how much we can trust those people. Especially not the fox.”

“They’re not going to sell us out to the Showrunner.” I muttered. “At least… at least, I don’t see any reason why they would. But I think it’s better if they know the full truth before we try to do anything; and we’re gonna have to tell Firestar either way. Keeping secrets would just make us look suspicious to them; it’s better that they’re our allies.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to.” Stanley said.

#### New Task Chapter 2

YOU – Regain awareness.

1. Open your eyes.
2. Wait and listen.

You pause for a second. Something tells you that you shouldn't do that just yet…

1. Open your eyes.
2. Wait and listen.

You wait and listen, staying as still as possible. There's some shuffling around you, but the area sounds relatively empty. You open an eye slightly. Just enough to see if it's dark or not. And… It is.

"Great," you think. You can't see shit, normally. You especially can't see shit if it's dark.

You take a painfully slow, deep breath. This situation is so fucking stupid. You've been through worse—and stupider—but this one is particularly stupid. And ridiculous. And you just might strangle Harry over this shit when you find him.

… Yikes, actually.

The thought makes you wince. You wouldn't actually hurt him, would you? No… Right? Fuck. You wouldn't be here if you didn't care about him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You're making yourself paranoid.

–1 Morale.

God fucking dammit.

You say fuck it and open your eyes. Overthinking, alone, will not help the situation at hand. In fact, it'd only make things worse.

You open your eyes to near complete darkness. To your right is a window, letting in some light—it looks like it's nearly night. At least you can \*see\* a bit, though, shitty vision be damned. Speaking of…

1. Put your glasses on.

First, you grab a handkerchief from your jacket pocket and wipe your face off. You throw the handkerchief, now covered in blood and… Flour… to the side. You grab your glasses and place them back on your face, where they belong, and finally, you can truly assess the situation.

You, Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi, have somehow, successfully, smuggled yourself into a cabin. The cabin of which holds this competition's contestants. The competition? A fucking death match, of course. Don't question it. Don't think about it. There's no time for that.

It looks safe enough to get up. As quietly as you can, you slowly stand up, and try your best to clean off the… Blood. And Flour. Good lord. There had to have been a better [less stupid] way to sneak in. But anyways…

You walk towards the window. Just enough light out to read by. Perfect. You pull your notebook and pen out and immediately begin writing.

·

YOU – This was such a stupid idea Volta and if I could I'd send you to the Pale.

You wait a couple seconds, and you see yourself write:

VOLTA DO MAR – It worked though, did it not? Ahaha.

You roll your eyes, and continue.

YOU – Still. Blood and flour? Really?

VOLTA DO MAR – \*Pig's blood\* and flour. It's funny. Laugh, \*pig\*. Ha, Ha, Ha.

YOU – I'm not taking any shit from a bitch that shares \*my\* body, thank you very much.

VOLTA DO MAR – You're right, sorry. But \*still\*. You're in, now we can…

Volta suddenly tapered off. "That's not good," you think. And then, someone else starts writing.

PARANOIA – There's something behind you.

·

Uh oh.

1. Turn around.
2. Pretend everything is fine and ignore whatever the fuck is behind you.

??? – Before you is a giant fish, almost as tall as you. It begins sniffing you, and after a moment, it makes a soft growling noise. It then opens its mouth…

Ohhh no. Fuck that shit.

Face to face with what looks like a cartoon fish out of hell, you understandably panic. You try to run away, but–

OW.

You slip. And fall. Right on your face. Into the mess of blood and flour around you.

–1 Health.

??? – The… Thing, towers over you now. It doesn't sound like it'd immediately try to kill you out of hostility, but it looks like it'd still very much try to eat you regardless. Like what it's trying to do right now.

The Thing pokes and prods at you with its mouth. Like a predator playing with its food before killing it. Fucked up, thinks one of the beings sharing your body. Or, you \*think\* it was one of them, anyway. You try to lie as still as possible. Maybe it'll think you're dead?... Do giant cartoon fish-things eat dead things? You don't know. Not that it's important.

??? – After a moment, The Thing suddenly stops prodding at you. You heard it turn around suddenly. It got distracted, it sounds like! Perfect time to get away–

?????? – Heyyy, Cohozuñito! How's it been?

The Thing [Cohozuñito, apparently?] leaves you on the floor and runs [or, slides, it looks like] towards the voice. You once again stand up, slowly. And turn your attention towards the soft glow in front of you.

In front of you stands a man. A man that's also surrounded by warm, comforting light. The light seems to be emanating \*from\* him, around his head. You stare at him, dumbfounded.

?????? – 'Sup?

The man waves at you. He has a laidback, chill sort of vibe about him. Despite his modern clothing, you can't help but feel he's not \*from\* this time period.

Still staring blankly at him, and without thinking, you uttered,

YOU – What the fuck?

He chuckled at that.

?????? – Yeah people tend to say that when they see me for the first time, haha. I'm Jesus, and you are?

Jesus held his hand out, for you to shake.

You do \*not\* do that, and instead squint at him, one hand rubbing your forehead.

YOU – Do I have another fucking concussion. What the fuck's a Jesus.

Both Jesus (!?) and the Cohozuñito (!?!?) laughed at that.

JESUS – Ohh boy. Uhm. Don't worry about that! Not important right now!

He waved a hand around and looked confused after a moment when nothing happened. Like he expected that to do something. “What a weirdo,” you think.

JESUS – Sorry about Cohozuñito here tryin' to eat you. He's uhh… Hungry, I assume? And you look like unfried food right now, frankly. So. Y'know.

YOU – Ah. Well. Um.

You turn and point at Cohozuñito.

YOU – Don't do that shit again.

Cohozuñito made a sad, apologetic sound, and nodded.

JESUS – 'Zuño understands now. You are not food. Won't happen again. He prommys!

YOU – … The fuck did you just say to me.

“Oh my god. Can this fucking guy understand the \*literal fish\* standing next to him.” You ask yourself.

You grab your notebook out once more and begin frantically writing.

·

YOU – Hello. For the love of god hello.

A moment passes.

PIECES – Heyyyy.

Oh thank God, the guy with braincells.

YOU – Please help. What the fuck is a Jesus.

PIECES [Trivial: Failure] – Uhmmmm. Dunno. Sorry.

YOU – Y'all are no goddamn help.

·

A sudden crashing sound interferes with your frenzied writing. You look towards the noise.

The Cohozuñito has opened the fridge, and from it, has pulled out an egg.

COHOZUÑITO – \*Garbled noises\*

JESUS – Crack it before you eat it! The shell is tough and will be sharp, my friend.

The Cohozuñito brings it to the stove and, unceremoniously, smashes it open with a hammer.

And from it, another man appears.

JESUS – … Huh.

COHOZUÑITO – \*Guttural sounds\*

JESUS – I suppose it could be called that, yeah.

You blink at the interaction. And then speak.

YOU – What?

JESUS – He said it's like a reverse ouroboros.

YOU – The fuck does that mean?

JESUS – Don't worry about it!

Jesus laughed nervously. Meanwhile, There is a whole entire other man in front of you three.

???? – Man… Whaddahell.

The stranger looks, well. Strange. And confused. He looks around at you, Jesus, and the Cohozuñito. He hops off the stovetop.

You feel like you're in a fever dream.

·

YOU – Are y'all seeing this shit there's a guy from an egg.

VOLTA DO MAR – Congrats to him for coming out!

YOU – NOT WHAT I MEANT.

·

The stranger gets his bearings quite quickly, though, and goes to give Jesus a high-five, which he accepts.

???? – Oh shit, hey Jesus!

JESUS – Hi Volo!

·

YOU – Ok. Dude's name is Volo. Noted. Why does he know Jesus.

PIECES – Everybody knows Jesus. Duh. Lol. Lmao, even.

YOU – Stop being a sarcastic little bitch you \*know\* I don't know who Jesus is!!!

·

You gently hit yourself on the face with your now-closed notebook, tired of everything.

YOU – I need. A drink.

You're speaking to nobody in particular, but Jesus heard you anyway, and is right by your side with a glass of red wine.

You decide not to question anymore shit, and take the drink without verbally acknowledging how weird that is.

Meanwhile, there's more commotion, once again ruining your concentration and by extension the conversation being held in your notebook.

The commotion being someone loudly opening the cabin door. The person responsible for the noise then hobbled in.

That person… Ah. You recognize him immediately!

It's Harry!

You dart towards him, happy to see \*somebody\* you finally recognize, blood and flour be damned! You scoop him up into a hug immediately, and he hugs you back just as tightly.

Yeahhh, those were definitely intrusive thoughts earlier. The smile on your face currently proves that. If anything happened to this man you would kill everyone in the room and then yourself, actually.

Morale restored.

Pulling away from the hug, you look Harry over and notice he looks like shit. Which… Isn't saying much, honestly!

YOU – Harry, you… Look like shit. Like, worse than usual. What happened?

He looks around. At the floor, at the ceiling, everywhere, while trying to think of what to say. He hums while putting his words together.

HARRY – Uhm. Uh. A lot?

YOU – Yeah, no shit!

You let Harry lean on you as you both walked back to the others. Before you could introduce him to everyone though, Harry, naturally, pulled some Bullshit™.

HARRY – Oh, hey Jesus!

He waved, and Jesus waved back. And you almost pushed him to the floor in annoyance! Why does everybody but you know who Jesus is!!!! Ugh. Okay. Fuck. Fuck! Fine.

## NEW TASK: READ THE FUCKING BIBLE, I GUESS!

#### Team Leverage Chapter 2

It had been a few days since Alastor had disappeared from my head. At first it was nice. Now I was starting to get worried. Did the showrunner somehow take him? She took that Narrator. I knew it shouldn’t bother me, but it felt weird to have him gone.

I was sitting on my bed, sketching out a picture of Firestar and his friend, Graystripe. They were under Artemis’s bed (across from mine). Graystripe had woken up yesterday, but he was still weak. Firestar was currently trying to get him to eat a rat, but it didn’t seem to be working.

Firestar’s fur was a pretty orange color, like, well, fire. I was honestly surprised whoever had named him had gotten that right, because Firestar seemed to think his fur was brown.

Firestar looked a bit frustrated, and then got up and walked away, which was unfortunate because I was trying to draw him. He trotted away to the spiral staircase and disappeared to the main floor. A few moments later, though, he was back, and trotted over to Percy.

“Percy, can you open the door? I need to make dirt.”

“Dude, speak normally please,” Percy said, getting to his feet.

“Prosperity?” Artemis called from the main floor.

I got up and looked over the railing, “Yeah?”

Artemis was standing next to the firepole down to the basement bathroom, looking disturbed.

“Can you come here?”

I came there.

The pole was streaked with something red with clumps of… something. Along it.

“Is that… blood?” Artemis asked.

“I think so, yeah.” I was disturbed now, too.

A pause.

“I don’t wanna go down the pole.” Artemis said.

“Yeah.” I didn’t either.

“...Will you come to the woods with me?”

“...Sure,” I said, watching Percy come down the ladder and Firestar (and Graystripe) down the cat-staircase, “It can be a team outing.”

Percy paused at the bottom of the ladder, and looked at the pole. “Is that blood?”

“Yeah,” Artemis and I said together.

A pause.

“Don’t… go down the pole,” Percy said.

“Yeah.”

Firestar (now at the bottom of the cat stairs) sniffed the pole. “It smells like cop.”

A pause.

“Dude, what? ” Percy said.

“Fuck the Police,” Firestar growled aggressively as he pranced towards the door.

Magnus, who was over at the kitchen counter, sipping something that looked bad and smelled worse, “What did Firestar just say?”

“Hey, Magnus,” Percy said, ignoring the question, “Can we use Jack as a flashlight?”

“Where- why?”

“We need to go to the bathroom,” I said awkwardly.

“But there’s blood.” Artemis added.

“From a cop,” Firestar said.

“So you’re having a pee-pee-party in the woods?” Magnus asked.

“A Tinkle-Winkle!” Jack the sword said excitedly. Like Stanley, he had no mouth and no bitches. (Sad!)

Percy, ignoring that, said, “Is that a yes?”

“Certainly!” Jack said, floating over to the door. But like Firestar, he had no thumbs and no bitches. (Sad!)

Percy went over and opened the door. Percy had a mouth AND thumbs AND bitches, which I thought was super cool.

A satyr who I hadn’t met was crouched at the end of the concrete patio. We all walked outside, and he looked up at us with glowing goat eyes.

“Hey Grover,” Percy said.

“Hey, man. What are you all doing out here?”

“There was blood,” Artemis said.

We all waited for Firestar to tell us what kind of blood, but he didn’t.

Grover nodded wisely, and joined our group.

We all walked across the grassy area and went into the woods, which were dark and scary.

While we were walking into the woods, trying to find a good spot, a goth colored man came out from the trees! His eyes were closed, and I recognized him as the sleeping guy. I didn’t know his name though.

Soon after Stanley (no mouth, no bitches) came out, clearly following behind the sleepy man. He signed something with his hands (probably in sign language), but I don’t know sign language. So I don’t know what it was.

[Why the fuck are you guys out in the woods?]

Magnus said, “I could ask you the same question.”

[Cesare’s a sleepwalker. He’s sleepwalking. I’m making sure he doesn’t fall into a hole and die.]

“Valid,” Said Magnus.

[So… why the woods? Why all of you, into the woods, at once?]

“There was blood on the firepole down into the bathment, so we’re all going into the woods instead.”

[Valid.]

But I couldn’t understand anything that was written in the brackets. (Those were just for the reader).

The goth guy suddenly woke up. Then he said, except it was like a title card over his mouth,

-The White Stone Erodes-

Silence. Who knew what that meant? But Artemis still had to go to the bathroom, so we walked off as a group all together as friends and buddies and besties also.

Suddenly, Artemis screamed.

“What?” Said Everyone (who could talk).

He pointed.

Firestar said, “That’s the twoleg I attacked!”

Grover said, “Did you do this?”

“What? No, I’m like 10 pounds. Plus, there’s holes in his body. I don’t have the power to do that?”

Percy said, “Is that Luke? ”

I didn’t know, but the dead body looked super gross and had bugs and shit. I was glad Alastor wasn’t in my head to tell me to eat the bugs and shit.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT THAT’S LUKE CASTELLAN!” Grover said.

“What piece of foxdung did this?” Asked Firestar.

“Speak normally!” Said Jack.

“I bet it was Xigbar,” Said Firestar.

“Those do look like wounds that could’ve come from his gun-sword-things.” Magnus agreed.

“Oh, by the way,” Percy said, “Firestar said he saw Xigbar and the Showrunner sharing tongues .”

“They were doing what?!” Said everybody, even the goth guy with his title card. Stanley signed it too, probably.

“I know!” Said Firestar.

We still all had to pee, so we all spread out and went pee and then came back to look at the dead body more.

“It sure does look like one of Xigbar’s cross-bullets from his firearm-bow.” Said Percy.

“Xigbar fucking killed Luke,” Said Grover.

We all nodded. Then we all went back inside the cabin to wash our hands with soap and warm water. I thought of the ABCs, but Artemis hummed ode to joy. I fucking hated that song because of my piano lessons (true story). More like Ode to Sad!. Firestar also washed his paws with soap and warm water, and then told us never to speak of it.

Then we all went up the ladder (even Stanley and Cesare!!!!!) and we all got into our bunk beds and went honk-shoo honk-shoo all night long.

The end :).

#### (Team Leverage Chapter 3,

Artemis didn’t want to be sitting outside- it was hot according to his standards, and he didn’t exactly want to be in the same general area as when he had discovered the corpse of, apparently, Percy and Grover’s former friend.

So when Mangus, Percy, and Stanley (who had some sort of cephalopod type creature on his shoulders) approached Artemis, he was understandably miffed. It wasn’t as though they’d done anything wrong last night-- well, Magnus had been a bit strange-- but Artemis didn’t even want to think about that… ‘pee-pee party’. At least that sword wasn’t there.

They’d had Prosper and Firestar (and Graystripe) with them- it seemed as though Graystripe was loath to be left alone with a bunch of ‘two-legs’ (Artemis wondered inwardly if Firestar had once been a ‘kitty-pet’- he certainly seemed much more acclimated to people and knew the correct words for some things), so Artemis didn’t really have much of a choice but to follow them outside. They sat in a circle on the grass (which Artemis also wasn’t thrilled about).

The approaching party of three sat down near Firestar, and Percy spoke first.

“We need to ask for your help,” he said, rather seriously. Percy pulled out his own amulet from underneath his (horrendously) orange shirt.

“Annabeth and Stanley’s Narrator were… taken.” Percy said sorrowfully.

“We need to get them back.” Stanley signed in ASL, the octopus on his shoulder speaking his words aloud.

“We’ve got a plan, to use the amulets-- we can use them to sneak all of us in, if one person manages to get to the Showrunner’s prison.”

Artemis furrowed his brow, “How do you suggest we do that? The arena is impenetrable.”

“We go in during a round.” Magnus says slyly. “And that’s why we need your help.”

Magnus pointed to Graystripe (whose fur stood on end), and gave Firestar a questioning look. “Would that be… could you do that? This is really important to us.”

Firestar tilted his head, “What do you want me to do? And why point at Graystripe? He doesn’t- he’s not-” Firestar looked uncomfortable, “he’s never been around two-legs before.”

“Oh, sorry,” Magnus said, “Uh-”

Artemis jumped in, “Of course- Graystripe isn’t competing. You want him to sneak in and teleport the rest of you out, don’t you?”

“Yeah-” Percy said, “Exactly. Graystripe even already has a necklace.”

“If that’s something you’re willing to risk.” Stanley signed carefully, the octopus taking a gentle sort of tone.

Firestar said, “You phrase that like we’re fragile little kitty-pets. We’ve both done far more dangerous things- Graystripe is a great warrior and I’m leader of my clan. We’re not afraid.”

“So, that’s a yes?” Stanley asked.

“No, I need to ask Graystripe. He doesn’t speak two-leg.”

Firestar then meowed to Graystripe, who thought for a single instant, and then  meowed back, honestly sounding a bit offended. Firestar touched his nose to Graystripe’s pelt, looking embarrassed. The two meowed back and forth for a brief while, Firestar gradually looking more and more uncomfortable.

Eventually, it seemed as though Graystripe relented.

“He’ll do it,” Firestar said, though neither of them looked happy (Graystripe looked suspicious and Firestar looked embarrassed).

“Aw, great!” Percy said enthusiastically. “So, next round?”

“Thank you.” Stanley signed emphatically. “I hope that my Narrator may become friends with you. He’s a kitten right now, and you both seem to be very honorable cats.”

Firestar dipped his head, but notably didn’t translate that to Graystripe.

Artemis said, “What’s your plan for once you get out of the death zone?”

“Allow me to explain how this is working.” the octopus said, pushing itself up from Stanley’s shoulder’s and looking more directly at the group.

“I am the Timekeeper. I, along with Stanley, the Line™, and the Narrator, originated from the Parable. The Parable is a confusing, contradictory, sort of place. It holds you captive and entwines you into its fabric in ways that even I can only begin to comprehend. I am connected to beings of the Parable. I can sense where others are, in a general sort of way, if I focus.”

Artemis nodded- it made sense, “And you’re informing us of this plan because we, too, have the necklaces.”

“Amulets,” Prosper muttered.

“Amulets,” Artemis corrected himself.

“Yeah,” Said Percy.

Artemis paused, “Speaking of Alastor, has he returned to your head yet, Prosperity?”

“No,” Prosper said, looking worried, “I think the Showrunner has him.”

Firestar looked like he was going to comfort Prosper physically, but decided against it. Because of Graystripe, Artemis thought- he was sure now that Firestar had had at least some connection to two-legs before; he wouldn’t look so embarrassed about it if he hadn’t.

“I’m sure we’ll find him,” Firestar said, “and besides, I think our accompanying Percy and his friends will actually make it more likely that all of us won’t be killed- Showrunner seems to like us. Artemis, Prosper, and I, that is.”

“We should all go together,” said Magnus.

Stanley signed, “Team Lit and Team Leverage.”

“Team…… Litvrage,” Said Percy.

“Team Litvrage,” Said Artemis, somewhat tiredly.

“Hell Yeah.” signed Stanley.

#### (Contraband Chapter 2,

Dipper was messing around with the grappling hook- he’d successfully used it to get in and out of the bathroom last night to avoid Magnus’s “ pee-pee party ”- already a much more useful gift than lots of other people had got, and some other people got people . He missed Mable so, so much-- it’d been a few months now, that he’d been stuck in this tournament. But he understood why she hadn’t come-- it was a deathmatch now. She didn’t need to risk herself just so Dipper could feel a little better.

He pulled the trigger on the grappling hook and promptly shot himself up to the ceiling, where he saw- gah! Xigbar!

He pulled the grappling hook out of the ceiling without thinking and fell back down, luckily falling into the conversation pit and bouncing.

That was enough of Grappling Hook(!) for today.

He pulled the other gift out from the cookie tin. The mind control tie.

Slowly, Dipper looked from the tie to the bathroom pole, which currently had one of the Showrunner’s kins-men cleaning it.

Dipper walked over to the kins-man, who looked up at him. He could see blue eyes looking back at him through the eye-slit of the medieval knight helmet.

“Uh, Hi!” Said Dipper, pretending not to be nervous, “What’s your name? Mine’s Dipper!”

“I’m Kendall!” Said the kins-man brightly.

“Uh, hi Kendall-”

“Hi!”

“Hi-”

“Hi!”

“Hey, I- I think you’d look great in this tie!”

“Oh, really? That’s so nice of you to say! I’d love to dress up! Can I try it on?”

“You can have it!” Dipper couldn’t believe his luck.

Kendall took the tie and lifted his helmet slightly, dropping most of the tie inside and then tying the rest around his neck. He hoped Kendall wouldn’t notice that Dipper couldn’t actually see how he looked in the tie.

Kendall looked up at Dipper (through the helmet), “How do I look?”

“Uh, great!”

“Thanks so much! I need to get back to cleaning this poll, little guy!”

“Alright, that’s cool!” Said Dipper, retreating back to the conversation pit.

That was so easy .

Why was that so easy?

He stared at the remote in the cookie tin. He could not believe that worked.

#### Contraband Chapter 3))

Yeah hi i’m kendall (that’s my real name!). I like [OMITTED] and the[OMITTED] movies and [OMITTED] television and also french toast.

I’m here to clean this pole!!!!!! I love to clean. Especially when [OMITTED] tells me to!

(I love [OMITTED]. In case you could’t tell. AN if you don’t know who that is than GTFO!!!!!!!)

Scrub scrub scrub! There is blood on this pole (it’s not human nblood! Just from a piggy. Whys there blood? IDK. LOL!) and also some flowr. I need ta scrub ALLLL  of the blood and the flowr off of the pole (so that the white boys can slide down to the basement-bathroom!)

Last night they found a dead body, because the pole wasn’t clean! That’s not very fabulous! Dead things are not [OMITTED]-tastic.

I think that [OMITTED] really like me! Taht’s why she gave me such an important job!!! Oh look!!! A whiteboy!!!!!!!!!

I like the white boys. They are cool!!! Plus, [OMITTED] likes tham (and i like ANYTHING that [OMITTED] likes!!!!! :D)

He thinks I’d look nice in this tie????

OH MY [OMITTED]. OH MY FREAKING [OMITTED]!!!!!!!

I LOVE LOVE LOVE DRESS UP TIME!!!!!!!!!

He’s gonna let me wear the tie???? YESSSS!!!! YIPPEEEEE!!!!!!!! DRESS UP!!

The whiteboy (dipster) thinks i look nice!!! This is VERY [OMITTED]-tastic! Quite awesome-sauce, even!!

Today’s gonna be a GREAT day!!

#### Some Worth In Life Chapter 4 [Confined body, Confound self]

The Narrator was utterly miserable, and he had never once felt so helplessly powerless before.

He rested at the bottom of the snowglobe, idly looking at the flecks of glitter that dotted the water. He was inside Xigbar’s pocket– and yes, he did know the man’s proper name (he simply preferred to tease). Or at least, he believed he knew the correct name; he thought it was Xigbar, but at this point, he’d been shaken so much, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the eye-patched fellow’s actual name was Xigbard, or… something.

For you see, he suspected that his current kitten form was mildly concussed. And the Narrator was certain that the isolation was not doing him any favors. So could you really blame him for feel a bit out-of-sorts? And really, Xigbar. What a silly name! Bigzar sounded more natural.

As if Xigbar could hear the Narrator’s mocking train of thought, the Narrator felt his snowglobe move as it was pulled out of the pocket.

He groaned to himself as he looked into Xigbar’s eye. The man was speaking– not that the Narrator could hear him particularly well, given that he was inside a glass globe – but he could see the clear air of mischief and gloating that Xigbar seemed to constantly have about him.

Dreadful little rafter hooligan.

And then– then the snowglobe was turned, upside down, and–

Oh, dear.

The Narrator was pressed against the roof of the snowglobe, his face smushing into the glass and his glasses receiving yet another dent– he would have to make a new pair, if he got out.

No, no– when he got out. The Narrator was not succumbing to compliance. He was not going to accept his fate as someone else’s plaything.

But most importantly–

The snowglobe was being held out, directly over Stanley’s bed.

The Narrator screamed.

Stanley was there, he was right there. His Stanley, right there, and he knew that if Stanley was awake – good lord, why was he even asleep? Stanley didn’t have to sleep, not technically speaking! Had he given into peer pressure?

Regardless of why, the important thing was that Stanley was asleep and his Narrator was less than five feet from his face.

And if Stanley had been awake– oh, this would all be over! He would reach out, and the Narrator would be able to grasp at his innate form, he would feel his connection to the Parable– to the Stanley Parable– and then he would be free! He would be free, and he would no longer be mocked, and Xigbarge would no longer be smug, he would cower , under the presence of a true–

The snowglobe shifted and the Narrator was once again shaken like some unfortunate maraca.

The Narrator cried out in pain, a sad sniffling sort of whimper, and he could see that Xigbar was pleased; could see him grinning a smug smirk even through the bowed glass. Lord, he wanted to bite that man. Or perhaps, explode him. Yes, Xigbart definitely deserved to get exploded.

The Narrator felt a familiar, unpleasant sort of thrum as Xigbar used his spatial powers. Urgh, such a headache that man was!

They ended up in the woods, in the pale moonlight. They were walking on the underside of a branch. Xigbar casually flung the snowglobe towards the ground, and for a momentary minute of horror, it fell with normal gravity– but then, he felt his tiny little kitten stomach turn, and he was teleported back into that evil man’s clutches.

This went on for– oh, lord, who even cares.

It didn’t matter.

None of this mattered.

The Narrator closed his eyes as his body was battered around, sloshing in the water and smashing against the glass, and he tried to think about nothing. He tried to let his body go numb, tried to let his mind fill with emptiness. He recalled the eons he had spent in solitude, staring at Stanley’s frozen form, while stuck in the Skip Button Room.

He had survived that. He could live through this. He could! He could endure it.

The Narrator was certain that he would be found at some point. Right? Stanley still needed him, he had promised that, even if he had been hanging out with Cesare.

He would be found. He… he had to be.

But the Narrator could not still his mind enough to let it become blank. His senses were all too full of glittery water, and thoughts filled up with anxious rambling. He could not reach the practiced numbness of the skip button room. He was aware, he was far too aware, he could feel everything, it was killing him from the inside fucking out, he had to get out OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW he was trapped! He couldn’t be trapped, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, no, no, no, no .

Please…

He closed his eyes as tightly as he could.

He didn’t have a choice here. He… he could. He could deal with that.

He had done that before.

The Narrator looked up and found himself inside of the pocket once more.

That was… better. Marginally safer. Less actively… painful.

He curled into a sad, sulking ball on the floor of the snowglobe and hoped that he could, at least, managed to get some rest.

He didn’t need to rest, not technically, but… he could understand the appeal. It was nice, to lose yourself, even if it was for a measly few hours.

The Narrator drifted off to sleep as the sun rose and the day began in full, and as sleep claimed him, he felt the unmistakable presence of a hug around his body. It was incorporeal, it was illogical, but it was there.

#### How did Komaeda get here?

Christopher Pierre was trying to have a walk in the woods. I say trying because he was mostly slamming into trees. He heard a sound behind him and smacked into another tree, causing him to fall backwards.

“Oh my, are you okay?” Asked a voice behind him. Christopher looked up to see a young asian man with wild white hair standing over him. “Yes, yes I am.” Christopher snapped.

“Oh, you looked fine, I just wondered if something was wrong. After all, that tree appeared to be directly in your line of sight.”

“Well um,,,” Christopher scratched his head in embarrassment. “I’m actually blind in my left eye. So when I’m not paying attention I tend to,,, walk into things.”

“Ah,,,” the young man said. “Sorry for asking about that, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No, it’s fine. You weren’t rude at all. You’re genuinely nicer than most people who have learned about it.” “Oh, worthless trash such as myself doesn’t deserve such a compliment, I am simply here to help others gain their ultimate hope.”

Christopher could NOT understand a thing about this young man, but his willingness to be used could be very useful, especially since Christopher already had experience in using and manipulating people. “Well, would you like to work with me?” Christopher offered. “Most everyone else has someone or something to help them cheat with. So your help would be invaluable.”

“I would love to be a stepping stone for your hope.” The young man responded. “I forgot to ask, what is your name?”

“Komaeda. Nagito Komaeda.”

“Nice to meet you Komeada. My name is Christopher Pierre.”

Christopher was leading Komaeda over to the cabin(thanks to Komaeda’s help Christopher didn’t smack into any more trees), when they ran into,,, Paul Matthews. This could either be great, or horrible. Paul didn’t like Christopher. That was fair. Paul came up to them.

“Um,,, okay. There’s another new person here. I-,,, who are you?” Paul asked.

“Oh, yes, Paul, this is Komaeda. Komaeda, this is Paul.”

“Hello Paul” Komaeda said. “Uh, Hello Komaeda.” Paul responded nervously. “Look,,, um,,, Ivegottagobye!” Paul booked it into the woods. “I think Paul is scared of you.” Komaeda observed.

“Yeah, he is.” Christopher said, staring after Paul.  They’d just hit the cabin when Christopher paused. “Shit. Where are you going to sleep? The cabin is full. Most of us have to sleep in the conversation pit, and there’s no room there anymore.” “I can sleep in the woods.” Komaeda said cheerfully. “Um, okay, if you want to.”

#### (Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 6,

 'Come up to the skybox', she said. 'It's so you're not suspicious', she said. 'You won't have to do anything', she said .

 Yeah. Fuckin'. Right.

 Xigbar leaned against a wall as he waited for the hot wings and coffee to be ready, idly watching the current match on the tv and shaking the snowglobe with one hand. It was turning into a great stress reliever. It's not like he minded getting the food, it just sucked being an errand boy.

 The ‘kinsmen’- he was surprised that the white boys weren’t getting it with all of the clues hitting them over the head- also ran every shop in the food court, dressed up in little uniforms (with the knight helmets on). They looked ridiculous.

 Not quite as ridiculous as the Narrator kitty hitting the glass over and over again, though. He smirked. That’s what you get for calling him ‘Xigbarf’. You get shaken. Shakeashakea .

 The kin called out “Xigbar?” (they could get it right), so he slipped the snowglobe back into his coat pocket and went to collect the order (a mocha cookie crumble with 16 shots of espresso for [OMIT]-y and a matcha frappuccino for himself) . He picked up the little bag it came in as the food place called out as well (Showie had asked for ghost pepper hot wings. Xigbar wanted hot wings, too, but not like that. Girl was stone cold when it came to spice tolerance). (Ha).

 He got that, too, then headed back up to the skybox. The staircase leading up was adjacent to the death zone of the arena, so Xigbar could see the field as he climbed.

 Finally, he got to the skybox. He walked past some kins on the way in, and said:

 "I got the cof-"

 This was becoming a pattern. Xigbar showing up and Showie is upset about something.

 Showie- hood down (they were alone in the skybox), was looking at the hot pink laptop in her lap, her long blonde (? streaked with white) hair flowing over her shoulders and the back of the (pink) victorian style couch she’d had brought in. Her cloak was open, and for the first time he could see her outfit- pink again, she was wearing shorts and a tanktop.

 And she was upset. She had a frown on her face and her eyes looked all watery.

 She looked up when Xigbar entered, a bit panicked, but then actually relaxed when she saw it was him.

 She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, a bit of the make-up coming off with the tears.

 He walked over to the couch, only somewhat hesitant, and set the coffee and food on the coffee table (and didn’t break it. That was a one time thing. Or, a no-time thing, if anyone who wasn't there asked.).

 “Xigbar?” She asked as he sat down. Her voice didn’t sound as small and scared as the last time he’d walked (crashed) in on her crying.

 “Yeah?”

 “Read this.” She picked up her laptop and plonked it down on his lap??

 He read it. ‘It’ was some kind of message from ‘Anonymous’: “we need a new host this one isn’t white boy enough.”

 He stared at the screen, then at her, then at the screen.

 He looked back at her. She was looking at him expectantly . The only trouble was, he had no idea what she was expecting.

 "Yeah… I don't know what you want from me. I have no idea what this means."

 Her frown intensified. Wrong answer?

 “I- they don’t like me! The audience,” She crossed her arms, “Someone sent this message. They think I’m not good enough!”

BAh. Reassurance.

 “Why should you care?" He scoffed. "If they're too much of a wimp to even show their face, they aren't worth paying attention to."

 That didn’t seem to make her feel better. He didn’t understand why (he thought that he did pretty good), but then he realized he said this to a woman who’s whole thing was not showing her face.

 He tried to recover, “Uh. It’s different when you do it.”

 She dabbed another tear off her face- once again taking more make-up off, and she opened her mouth to say something-

 He interrupted her, “You know there’s a thing called setting spray? They make waterproof ones. It would stop your disguise from coming off.”

 She looked up at him, offended- bad choice of words?

 “I mean, your, uh-” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the narrator snowglobe (Showie jumped a little at the sight of it) and plonked it down on the coffee table, the force causing the kitten to smack into the top of the glass dome.

 She looked at it cautiously, “My- what were you saying?”

 He picked the snowglobe back up and shook it. Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunk. SHAKEASHAKEA.

 “Look, he’s suffering,” Said Xigbar in an attempt to cheer her up. Nice save.

 She cracked a smile, “Nice save.”

 “I thought so, yeah.”

 Bigger smile, “Whatever. The match is starting.”

 Xigbar looked out the massive window as Stanley (He positioned the Narrator so he could see), Percy, Pee-Pee kid, Firestar, and two guys Xigbar didn’t recognize took their positions in the arena. A starting horn sounded, and the first faceless gray figure appeared behind the purple one and shoved him forward. Then another. Then one behind the really short guy.

 More and more figures appeared behind the White Boys and began pushing them towards the pit of spikes.

 “This is a lot more fun to watch from up here,” He said, looking down through the reinforced glass floor- they were directly over the (pink polkadot) spike pit.

 Showie grabbed a napkin and wiped some of the makeup off of her hands (maybe it was easily removable on purpose?) and grabbed a wing.

 “Isn’t it?”

#### (A Not So Fun Game Chapter 1)

Mare woke up on the ground in an unfamiliar forest. He could instantly tell it was in the mortal world, but where was another question. Where was he? How did he get there? This situation suddenly felt too familiar, and he quickly tried to recollect his memories, speaking out loud to himself.

“My name is Mare. I am the Dream Prince, ruler of the Dream Domain. I can control dreams and nightmares. My family is Mori, Lacrima, and Phobous. I have a magic key crafted by elves. My favorite mortal is Esmeralda.”

Good, he had not lost his memories this time. In that case he could just find the nearest doorway and use that to get back home. He stood up and dusted off his black and white clothes, and reached for the key that should be hanging around his neck.

There was nothing there. He quickly took off his bowler hat and reached into that. No key there either. He started to search the forest floor, but nothing round but grass, roots, and leaves.

Great, he was stuck. If he was lucky, the key would eventually reappear in his hat. If he was unlucky, he’d have to travel through regular means from here and all the way back to the Dark Forest to get it back there.

Well, time to find out where “here” was.

After rummaging through the woods for a bit, Mare found his way out and onto a grassy field, with a large cabin in view. A black horse was grazing outside, near a bunch of picnic tables. Mare carefully approached as to not spook the horse. As he got closer, the horse seemed to notice him, and lifted its head.

“Hi there. Don’t worry, I’m not dangerous,” Mare said to it in a soft voice, moving slowly towards the tables but not in a direct line towards the horse. It kept its head up, watching him, and the fur on its body seemed to fluff up? No wait, that wasn’t fur, that was wings! The horse had wings!

Mare gasped.

“Hellooo!” he cooed. “I’ve never seen a winged horse in the mortal world before. What are you doing here?” He forgot all caution and moved straight to the horse with a hand outstretched. The horse clearly didn’t like that and whinnied, spreading its swings.

“Oh, sorry.” Mare stopped and pulled his hand back. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

It was at this time that someone opened the cabin door.

“Hey!”

Out stepped a person with curly hair, horns, and goat legs. Well, this clearly had to be a magical place.

“Oh, hi!,” Mare greeted him back. “Is this your horse?”

“Not mine,” the goat man answered. “He’s my friend’s. And he’s a little on edge so if I were you I wouldn’t just approach him like that.”

“Oh, sorry,” Mare apologized again. “I got a little excited. I don’t see a lot of winged horses.”

The goat man studied him. “I haven’t seen you before. Did you come out of the woods?”

Mare looked down at his clothes, which, despite him trying to brush them clean earlier, were still covered in dirt and leaves. He chuckled.

“Is it that obvious?” he replied, smiling. He tried to brush his sleeves clean a little more, as if it would help at all; the fabric was white. “I woke up in the forest with no idea how I got here.”

The goat man nodded as if this wasn’t strange to him.

“You must have been smuggled in too then. Come inside. I can explain everything there.”

That was a relief. An explanation would be good.

As they walked to the door, the goatman held his hand out.

“By the way, I’m Grover.”

Mare took his hand and shook it. “I’m Mare (pronounced mar-UH).” Then he gazed longingly back at the majestic winged horse. “And… the horse is?”

“I’ll introduce you to him later,” Grover said, and hurried Mare inside.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 7,

 "So, where were you, exactly?"

 Xigbar had been wondering when the question would pop up. After all, you can't just disappear on your boss for like a week without said boss asking where the hell you were.

 "Gettin' ogled, mostly." He grinned at Showie. "Got sucked back into the last tournament I was in. 'Fuckable Old Man Battle'."

 "Fucka-?" Showie snorted and let out a small giggle. "You're kidding."

 "What? I'm hot." Xigbar poked her side with his elbow. "You and I both know it, Doll."

 She looked Xigbar over, as if considering him. “Eh.”

 Xigbar gasped in mock offense, clasping his hand over where his heart should've been (if he had one).

 "I'm hurt."

 "Uh huh."

 "Wounded."

 "Sure."

 " Destroyed, Showie ."

 “Yeah, I bet you were, seeing as you got sent home early,” her tone was playful.

 "Low blow!" He snickered. "It's not my fault that showrunner wanted to keep their version of Team Lit going. Without the election fraud, I would've won that one. It's all the Narrator's fault. Dude was too annoying."

 Showie took in a sharp breath, a ghost pepper hot wing halfway to her mouth, “The- I’m sorry, Team Lit ? Who’s in Team Lit?” Her eyes flicked between Xigbar and the little orange dot that was Firestar down below in the arena.

 "Mostly people with connections to your Team Lit. Artemis's Butler, Alastor, a giant rat… Oh, and also now Dipper's uncle. I know the kid isn't in Team Lit, but y'know." The part about Ford came out a bit bitter. He was still salty about Ford being let into Team Lit after losing on a completely different side of the bracket. Xigbar can write.

 “A giant rat?” Showie looked thoughtful, and she nibbled the wing she was holding, “Did he have a scar?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Probably Ripred, then… Did you say Alastor? Isn’t he still with Prosperity?”

 "Evidently not. White-blue fox, right? Thing was hanging out in the common area every time I went out there." Xigbar shrugged. "No idea if it's still there, though. Should be, if the whole team is going to the finals. But considering who they're up against, I don't see them winning."

 “What happens if they lose? Over there?”

 "They don't die, if that's what you're askin'. Y' just get sent home with a gift basket. This was my first time losing, though." He grinned smugly. "I'm the reigning champ."

 Showie looked at his sideways, “Champ of fraud, maybe. Um, but I don't want to risk Alastor being sent back Downstairs or to Redwood.” She looked down at the match going on under their feet, seemingly pleased with how it was going. “Would you consider going back to retrieve him? He’s supposed to… I mean, he came with Prosperity, he needs to be here to compete.”

 "I gotta go back soon anyway. After the finals, I gotta defend my title." He shrugged. "Might as well grab 'im if I'm already there."

 She seemed pleased with that answer. After a moment of silence, she said, “Out of curiosity, what team were you on?”

 "Oh, you're gonna love this. Team They Said Please (and Xigbar)." He said the word 'Parentheses' out loud, doing little dramatic jazz hand finger wigglies.

 “Ha!” She laughed, “I’ll ignore the continued blatant name theft in favor of focusing on the fact that that name refers to the loser team that needs dragged through each round by their hair.”

 “Excuse me?”

 She giggled.

 "That's just cruel, Showie," he huffed. But from the grin on his face, it was pretty obvious he wasn't being serious. "I think when you were trying to kill me hurt less."

 She smiled, looking down on the match below, “I love it when the matches aren’t close at all. Look at them go!” She laughed, pointing to the short guy and the purple one (but not the purple one, he already got out). They were neck and neck with crowd of about 30 people each, while the Pee Pee Party (they were calling themselves “Team Litvrage”- peepee party was almost less embarrassing) only had one or two people each. They appeared to be having a conversation.

 "You know that one kid. The uh- the blond one? He joined up with them one night; started calling the group 'pee pee party'. Guess they were all going to the woods to piss or something, I dunno. The fire pole was covered in some kinda blood gunk. Honestly, I'm half convinced the kid got into my swamp sauce." He paused for a second. Then, not looking at Showie, speaking as nonchalantly as if he was talking about the weather, he said, "Pretty sure they know I killed that one guy. None of 'em have said anything yet, though."

 “That- Luke?”

 A pause.

 “... Swamp sauce?”

Xigbar opted to answer the second question.

 "Hard to explain. It's a drink I make- Everyone but me hates it, but it'll fuck you up in two sips. Works like a charm."

 “I bet I could handle it,” She said, apparently allowing him to brush Luke’s corpse under the proverbial rug.

 “ As if. Not just anyone can handle it." He grinned at her. "But if you wanna try… I'm not gonna stop you."

 “I’m built different,” She smiled, taking a sip of her frappe, “Next round, perhaps?”

 "Alright, I'll bring it. Don't say I didn't warn you." He paused for a second. "'Next round', huh? Can't get enough of my ✨️sparkling✨️ personality?"

 “How did you say those out loud? Nevermind,” She nibbled on a wing, looking down, “I’m surprised Percy is ahead of Magnus… I like Percy better. But not as much as Firestar.”

 “Why Firestar?”

 “Have you seen him? Little green eyes? He’s even orange. And besides, the audience throws a fit about him every round. He’s my favorite of those three by principal. Percy, Magnus, and him, I mean.”

 A moment of silence passed. Xigbar stared at the snowglobe- the narrator kitty was pawing at the glass, sadly and pathetically, looking longingly at Stanley.

 “What’d he do to you? Like I know why I hate him, but what’s your damage? I mean. His damage. I mean. What’d he do?” He asked, feeling his amulet heat up, and then return to normal temperature.

 She was silent for a while, staring at the ghostly pale spots on her hand where she’d wiped away the make-up.

 “Um… well, he… are you aware of the game he’s from?”

“Game? The hell do you mean?"

 “The Stanley Parable,” she said, “He… he created Stanley, and, he- he.” Her lips pressed together in a thin line. It didn’t look like she was going to say anymore. He was honestly surprised she’d said as much as she had.

 “So this is about Stanley?” Just Stanley? That it? (he knew that was not it, but he was seeing if she’d admit.)

 “He…” she paused, and then hesitantly looked up, directly into Xigbar’s eye, “Xigbar, can I… trust you?”

 Just then, the Narrator began to scream.

 Showie jumped about a foot, letting out a little shriek. They both looked at the arena-

 “Where did they go?!” Showie jumped to her feet, running over to the glass. “Team Leverage, where?”

 “I have a hunch,” He reached over and pulled her hood up over her face, then offered her a hand, “There's a reason I wanted to fuck with them a little bit."

 She took his hand (hers was cold and hard), and he teleported the two of them away.

#### Cost of Death Chapter 5 [oh ho ho his will is weak! crumbling like paper, very sad]

Stanley was pulled through space, like a thread through a needle, anchored only by the amulet on his neck, and he ended up on the stone, musty ground of what appeared to be the Showrunner’s storage.

Stanley shuddered as he shook himself off and looked at the others. Percy and Magnus stood at attention. Artemis was patting himself off. Firestar had gone over to Graystripe and tried to reassure his fellow cat– Stanley still wasn’t sure why exactly Graystripe hated ‘two-legs’ so vehemently, but that was a problem for another day. Prosper had a concerned expression as he looked around at the… various… glass… terrariums.

Uh-oh.

Stanley looked around for the Timekeeper, saw the void-creature, and cringed as it crawled up his arm, getting his clothes covered in mucus.

“Does he know where to go?” Percy asked tensely, uncapping his pen and revealing… a fucking sword?

The Timekeeper closed his eyes, and held up a tentacle to say ‘give me a moment’.

Magnus pulled out his own sword, it seeming to transform from a pendant around his neck. His expression was determined– Magnus was ready to go . He was not the fool of last night– this was a true ally , someone that Stanley actually felt comfortable counting on .

“Okay.” the Timekeeper murmured, opening his eyes back up. “Let’s move. I can feel a presence nearby. It has to be the Narrator.” he said, prodding his back.

Stanley nodded, and headed off in the direction that the Timekeeper was directing him.

Their team walked past several small enclosures, none of which seemed to be populated. Well, their team, minus Prosper. He was hanging back to stare into one of the larger enclosures, studying it with an anxious gaze.

“Come on, Prosper.” Artemis said softly. “We’ll find him soon, but we need to keep moving.”

Prosper sighed, and then moved on.

Stanley could understand that. The very presence of those enclosures sat uneasily with him too.

Come on, what sort of person has this many tiny terrariums? Especially ones themed so much like… miniature rooms. They didn’t look to be made for animals. They– urgh, Stanley didn’t even want to think about it.

He didn’t need to think about it, because the Narrator wasn’t in one of them. The Timekeeper was still urging him on, now down a hallway of doors, and then… to a one labeled ‘Dog House.’

That didn’t sound good, but really, when did Stanley ever get to have nice things?

Stanley opened the door, and saw what was perhaps the world’s most shitty doghouse, and–

The Bucket?

Wait, what–

“Looking for this?” a voice called out, from… behind them.

Stanley turned around and saw… Xigbar! Fuck! And he was holding–

He was holding a snowglobe? That he was shaking? With like, way too much enthusiasm.

“Hey!” Percy called out, brandishing his sword. “Where’s Annabeth?”

Wait, shit. Shit. Stanley could see, ever so small, a little brown kitten– about the size of a littlest pet shop toy– inside. And that– that was Narry .

The Timekeeper sloughed off Stanley’s shoulder to head over to the Bucket, as Stanley stepped forward nervously, wanting to– what, grab it? –but Xigbar flicked his wrist and the whole snowglobe seemed to disappear, teleporting away.

Magnus looked between Stanley and Xigbar, and sensing… something, he opted to take a more peaceful position.

“Just give Stanley his Narrator.” he said angrily. “And then tell us where you’re keeping Annabeth and Alastor.”

The Showrunner strode out from behind Xigbar, with a forceful, confident stride, and looked at Stanley. Stanley felt an immense sort of pressure, feeling that she was making eye contact from behind her hood, and– he heard– a faint, pleading whisper.

“Please just let me help you.” the Showrunner murmured, a plea that seemed to be said more for herself. A plea that was never meant to be heard.

But Stanley heard it. Oh, he heard it, alright. He heard it, down to his goddamned bones, and he felt it take root in his weakened, pathetic excuse of a will.

Stanley nodded at her, and signed,

[Yes.]

“Wait, what?” Magnus said in shock, as Percy cursed to himself in greek.

The Showrunner inhaled, a joyful, shocked sort of gasp. “Really?” she whispered, almost mouthing it, with how quiet she seemed to make her voice.

Stanley nodded again. Of course he was. What other choice was there? He was going to let her help her. That was what he was. That is how his will pulled him. That is how it had to be, and there was not an alternative. What sort of question was that?

[Of course.]

Prosper glared at Stanley and backed away, hiding himself behind Artemis, who seemed to be scrutinizing every inch of the Showrunner’s body.

“Where is Annabeth?!” Percy demanded again, and the Showrunner turned to look at him, then turned her attention back to Stanley.

“Listen, I know how you must feel, Stanley. But just calm down, it’s going to be alright. This is a very complicated situation, but you’re safe now.”

Stanley nodded dreamily as a wave of calmness, of security, engulfed his senses. He was safe now. He was alright. He didn’t have anything left he needed to do; he only had to let the Showrunner help.

“Stop charmspeaking him!” Percy snarled, and the Showrunner looked over at him in surprise.

“Charm–” the Showrunner started, and then she shook her head. “I can’t do that, Percy. Stanley’s just… look, it’s quite hard, the sort of thing we’ve been through. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“ We?! ”

She turned her head, “Xigbar, take them back to the cabin, please. And don’t hurt them. Stanley, dear, hand me that necklace. You aren’t going to have to compete anymore.”

Stanley unclipped the chain from behind his neck and easily handed it over.

[Of course, ma’am.]

“Not ma’am, Stanley. Xigbar? Take them?”

He took them, despite everyone’s protests. They were teleported out of the room, out of the building.

She took in a deep breath, and looked Stanley deep in the eyes, now that they were alone in the room.

“I’m [OMITTED LAYER 2], Stanley, we’re the same . But don’t tell a soul of that name. Use ‘Scepter’ as a sign name for me. Alright?”

They were the same. Stanley understood now.

[Alright, {SCEPTER}.]

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 8))

  The warping put everyone in that team on the ground. It always did for first timers, especially when they weren't expecting it. Especially when they tried to fight it.

  "I knew it. I freaking knew it ," Percy hissed to himself. Xigbar looked over the gaggle of teenagers (and cats. And octopus. And bucket.) and shrugged.

 "Yeah, figured as much. Guess you did have to go and find that body. Ah, well… not like I really care anyway."

 "If you want to kill us, I will not die so easy!" The orange cat, Firestar, spat. Holy shit?? Xigbar didn't know that little fucker could talk.

 " Kill you ?" Xigbar shook his head irritably. "As if. I got hired to protect you dipshits. Or at least, you three," he said, gesturing to Artemis, Prosper, and Firestar. "The rest of you, frankly, I couldn't give less of a damn about. But, Showie told me not to hurt you, so… You get a pass. This time. "

 The pale one- that didn’t narrow it down- the Artemis one looked like his brain was going a mile a minute, “D’arvit.”

 "... Kid did you just call me a slur-"

 Artemis looked at him like he forgot he was there- rude- then got up and walked into the cabin? Ruder!

 Percy got to his feet and drew his sword, “If you think you’re-”

 “ Kid - that did not work out well for the last sword-wielding teenager. Give it a rest and go chase after your smarty-pants friend." His normally smug, almost playful voice turned ice cold and downright venomous. Threatening. "I might have orders, but I'm sure in the case of self defense, Showie will excuse some damaged merchandise. "

 A bluff. But one Percy bought. He stormed off towards the cabin, making sure to bodycheck Xigbar on the way. He would've been insulted, if he didn't almost respect the balls this kid had.

 "Anyone else want to try and make some threats they can't hold?" When no one responded, Xigbar smirked. "Good. Get inside ." Taking his own advice, he turned and went inside. Would be a good idea to retrieve the few things he had here. Namely, the gift basket and the crown he'd gotten from Fuckable Old Man Battle. Also his milf shirt. Team Litvrage knew what side he was on, now. Information like that was sure to get out fast. He couldn't count on being left alone anymore. Especially since he most likely wasn't allowed to pull an arrowgun or two on any of them.

 "Be good now," He called out, teasingly, into the cabin, just to rub salt in their wounds. "Especially you, Percy. Now I have someone to go check in on."

 And he left. Showie was going through something- he had to- It would be better if he checked in on her. Made sure she was okay. Can't have your boss have a breakdown right when things are getting good.

 Sure.

 That's the excuse.

 Xigbar warped back to Showie's apartment, if only just to put down his stuff. The coffee table remnants were long gone, but it hadn't been replaced yet. Whatever. He could just leave it on the couch.

 "Showie? You back yet?" He called.

 No 'thunk' of her falling in the bathroom again, so… No. Not back yet.

 That's fine. Xigbar could wait. Showie had something going on with that Stanley guy. Probably best not to interrupt.

 He almost wanted to, though. No idea why.

 He took some time to actually look around the room. The entire thing had a white and pink color scheme with black accents (much like Showie herself). It appeared to be a one room kind of thing- he could see the bed (unmade), which was about 5 feet from the couch. Behind that was a closet thingy. Not exactly the opulence he would have expected from her.

 A clicking noise came from the hallway, and then he heard an “Oh!” As Showie (hood down) stopped in the doorway into the room.

 Her eyes (blue, smudged) flicked to the basket, crown, and shirt he’d put on her couch.

 A pause.

 “Things not go so well at the cabin?” She asked hesitantly.

 “Yeah, bad news. Percy pretty much immediately pulled his sword on me. Can't go back. Had to threaten him to get him to stop." He put his hands up. "Kept to the orders, though. Didn't hurt any of 'em."

 “I’m glad,” She said, walking into the room, “Percy isn’t supposed to cause trouble…” She frowned, “I wish there was a way to get him to… ‘chill’.”

 “Don’t we have his girlfriend?”

 “W- well, yes, but,” She looked deeply uncomfortable, “That. Won’t work. Because. It just won’t.”

 “Okay… Anything else we can use as leverage? Grab that friend of his with the goat legs?"

 She frowned. And paused. Then said, “Grover Underwood has powers, though. We wouldn’t be able to hold him.” She thought for a minute. “If… if Annabeth’s his only issue, could we just…?”

 “What, give her back?" Xigbar shook his head. "No, if we lose the leverage we've got against him, there's no telling what he could do. We don't know if just having the Narrator is enough. The girl's gotta stay here. Besides, it's not like she's in any danger here. She's in like, the safest place in this entire area."

 Showie smiled softly (...good choice of words?) and said, “I suppose so. Perhaps when Alastor is returned in a few days, they’ll calm down.”

 A pause.

 “So I assume you need to stay here?”

 A pause.

 “I’ll have a bed brought in.”

#### Tournament Chapter 20

While everyone else had been yelling at the Showrunner and getting kidnapped, Artemis was looking for clues.

And he found some.

“Carter?” Called Artemis, pulling out a rolling whiteboard from inside the cabin. He uncapped a black marker and began writing a list.

“Yeah?” Said Carter, looking over from within the conversation pit. When he saw Artemis writing, he walked over.

“You’re familiar with living statues, yes?” He asked.

Carter frowned.

“Shabtis, yes?”

A pause. “I guess.”

“I need to know everything you do about them, I think our Showrunner may be one.”

While Carter explained, Artemis wrote on the board:

* Paint rubbing off
* Army of “Kinsmen”
* ‘Not’ charmspeak (charmspeak)
* ‘We’ (stanley???)
* Calming
* Heavy

“Gods need vessels, yes?”

“No,” Said Percy, who was sulking by the sink.

“Egyptian gods do,” Said Sadie, who had also walked over, “Unless they’re in their domain or something.”

“Or this entire place could be in the Duat,” Said Carter, “I tried to find the end of the woods yesterday but it just spat me back out the other side.”

Artemis furrowed his brow, “And in that case a vessel wouldn’t be needed?”

“Yeah, no.”

“Hm. Is there any reason… Hm.” Artemis stared at the board.

“Why do you think she’s a shabti?” Carter asked.

“She sounded disproportionately heavy as she walked across the floor,” he said, “and she covers herself in some kind of paint.”

“Not paint,” Prosper (drawing at the table)  said, “Paint doesn’t really… smudge.”

“She certainly doesn’t smell like a twoleg,” Firestar said.

Percy shook his head, “I’m getting Aphrodite vibes from her, and she’s Greek.”

“You got Ares vibes from me,” Said Carter.

“Who’s the- who’s the equivalent of Aphrodite? The Egyptian one?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Humor me.”

Carter frowned, “Hathor, I guess, but it doesn’t map cleanly.”

“And besides, Hathor likes us,” said Sadie, “She’s Horus’s wife or something, I don’t think she would do this.”

“She also can’t raise the dead,” Said Carter.

“Well, who can?” asked Artemis, frowning at the board.

“Kind of no one?” Said Jason, “Except, I guess, my friend Piper this one time.”

“Piper? Is she a demigod?”

“Yeah, a daughter of Aphrodite.”

He paused, “Is that a usual power?”

“No,” Said Percy.

“Her charmspeak was just that strong,” Said Jason.

Artemis’s eyes suddenly widened, “Charmspeak- that’s convincing someone to do something, yes?”

They nodded.

“How did Piper- what did she say?”

“She asked me to please wake up.”

Artemis froze, “She said please ?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t- Piper’s not the Showrunner!”

“That’s not what I’m saying. But a daughter of Aphrodite raising the dead by saying please -”

Firestar said, “Didn’t she say she didn’t have charmspeak?”

“I don’t believe her,” Said Artemis.

Carter said, “If we can figure out her name, we could… we could stop her.”

“How so?” Asked Artemis, writing

* Name?

On the board.

“If we figure out who she is, we can use that to control her. It’s called binding.”

Firestar walked closer to the board, “Isn’t it Showrunner?”

Artemis shook his head, “That’s just a name she’s using. It’s not her real name.”

Firestar narrowed his eyes, “Isn’t whatever name someone uses their true name?”

“No,” Artemis said, “I mean she’s using an alias. A pseudonym. Probably so we can’t bind her.”

“Well,” Firestar said hesitantly, “If you really think it will help…”

Everyone paused, then turned to look at him.

“What, do you know it?” Asked Percy.

Firestar nodded.

Prosper narrowed his eyes.

“What is it?” Asked Artemis.

“Barbed-eye. Or something like that. I didn’t hear it very well. Xigbar used it while they were sharing tongues.”

“We did hear one of her Kinsmen use a name starting with ‘B’” Percy said, considering.

“We did?” asked Sadie.

“You were still in that cake.”

“Ah.”

“Maybe we need to back up,” Said Artemis, “What do we-” He trailed off, writing

* Pink heels, nails, spikes— EVERYTHING, really
* White smile
* Familiar with Xigbar
* Name starts with ‘B’

“Do we know where Xigbar is from? What kind of name is that? ‘Sigbar’ makes more sense.”

“ Xigbar? ”A teenage boy with frankly, obscenely spikey brown hair poked his head out of the conversation pit. "Did you just say Xigbar?"

“Yeah, why?” Said Prosper, “Do you know him, too?”

"Yeah… you could say that." The boy's eyebrows furrowed. "Is he here, too? Tall, stripey hair, eyepatch?" He pulled himself out of the conversation pit and walked over.

“Yeah,” said Percy, “Hangs out in the rafters, kills teenagers in the woods?”

"He what ?!" His eyes boggled. "Wait- wait- wait- he killed someone? Are you sure it was him? I-I mean, I know he's a bad guy and all, but he's more of a jerk than anything-"

“Yeah, pretty sure,” Percy said, “He had these puncture wounds that looked like Xigbar’s crossbow rifles or whatever.”

“And he shared tongues with the Showrunner,” added Firestar, “He’s working with her closely.”

"... Are you sure that's him. The guy I know can't land a hit, much less a girlfriend."

Firestar tilted his head like there were words in that sentence he didn’t understand.

“A girlfriend?”

“Yeah, he’d be confused, too,” Said the boy.

“I mean,” Artemis said, “Do we really think there are two stripey, teleporting men named Xigbar? I very much doubt it.”

"Yeah… you've got a point. I'm Sora, by the way." Sora put his arms behind his head, elbows up. "So… Why are you trying to figure something out about Xigbar? … Aside from the whole murder thing."

‘We think if we can figure out how the showrunner knows him, we can figure out who she is.” Artemis said.

“And what did she have in common with Stanley?” Percy wondered, “She said ‘we’.”

“And what’s with the pink?” Prosper said.

“Sora, you know Xigbar- tell me about where you’re from,” Artemis said, tapping his fingers on his leg.

“Well-" Sora paused. He looked like he was debating saying something. "It… doesn't look like the order is intact here, I guess. I'm from the Destiny Islands, but I've been to all kinds of worlds. I originally met Xigbar when I was fighting heartless with Mulan and Mushu, but I know he was living in The World That Never Was, but… that doesn't exist anymore. I mean, I guess he was in the Keyblade Graveyard for a while, but I haven't seen him since I defeated him."

“You defeated him?” Artemis looked at him, “How?”

“And did you say Mulan? ” Percy asked.

"Yeah! Do you know her?"

Everyone was silent for a few moments.

“No. Do you ?”

"Well, yeah. I helped her pretend to be a guy for a while."

More silence.

Artemis said, “Sora, tell us more about where you’re from, please.”

"Uh… Okay." Sora looked confused, but he answered anyway. "Well, the Destiny Islands aren't really all that special. Just a few little islands around a bigger one. It's kinda boring, but it's home."

“Are there any other… interesting people you’ve met along the way?”

"Donald and Goofy- Oh, and the King, too. They're pretty interesting. But I didn't meet them until after I left home."

More silence, this time accompanied by some hesitant laughter.

“Like Donald Duck? Donald Duck and Goofy?” Asked Prosper.

"Yeah!" He looked relieved.

More silence.

“And, what, is Mickey Mouse the king?” Asked Sadie, trying not to laugh.

"Oh! Yeah, he is! How did you know?"

Silence, and more hesitant laughter (not from Litvrage, from smugglees).

More silence.

“You know what?” Said Percy, putting his hands up, “Sure, why not. Might as well happen. Disney movies are real. Sure.”

"... They made movies about Disney Castle?"

Silence.

“I- probably ? From what we know, everything you’ve just listed is children’s cartoons. Fake. But, like, Nico, Jason, and I are the kids of Greek gods, Carter and Sadie are magicians, and Artemis is friends with fairies, so, like, I guess we can’t really talk.”

"Huh. Cool." He looked around the cabin. "So… What exactly is this world's deal, anyway? I haven't seen any heartless or anything, and that's usually why I end up places."

“There’s some kind of force-field around this place,” Percy said, “No one can leave, but they do show up sometimes. I don’t know what a heartless is, but that’s probably keeping them out. There aren’t any monsters here, either.”

“My phone won’t work,” Artemis said, “The force-field is also blocking all communication out.”

“As for what this place’s deal is, it started out as some kind of contest. Decided by vote. Mostly legit. She- the Showrunner, she likes pink and wears a black cloak- had us fighting in this colosseum. When you lost a round, she’d send you to a loser’s resort- I never went. But then Xigbar showed up out of nowhere right after a round, and things got… weird. She started combining everyone into one big team, and then once everyone was inside, she started eliminating people by pushing them into spikes. We all thought she hated Xigbar, but then we realized they were working together. Then Luke- another demigod- we found his body in the woods. We’re pretty sure Xigbar did it," explained Percy.

"Man… I thought I took care of the Organization when Xehanort was defeated, but if Xigbar is still causing problems, that could be real bad news. That guy is nothing but trouble."

“You said you defeated Xigbar before. How?” Artemis asked.

"Twice, actually. I fought him with my keyblade." Sora held out his hand, and in a flash of light, a very oversized key the size of a big sword appeared in his hand. It had a sort of… Mickey Mouse shaped keychain type thing on the end of it.

“Dude, sick,” Said Percy. He uncapped his pen, which turned into a bronze sword.

"Oh, cool!" Sora's face lit up. "How do you summon that? Is it always a pen when you're not using it?"

“Yeah,” Percy said, recapping it. It shrunk back into a pen, “And check this out!”

He threw the pen across the room.

Sora looked confused for a moment, until Percy reached back into his pocket and pulled the pen back out. Percy smiled, “Cool, right?”

"Yeah!" Sora grinned. "My keyblade has something like that, too- no matter where it is or who's holding it, it always comes back to my hand when I want it. Go on, try to hang onto it." He offered the handle of the weapon to Percy.

He took it, “Do I need to back up?”

"Nah, you're good." Sora held out his hand again, and like before, the keyblade appeared in his hand in a flash of light. "Probably a good thing. I would've lost it to Jack Sparrow a while ago otherwise."

Silence again.

“He’s a pirate,” Said Sora.

“Yeah, we know,” Said Prosper.

“I met Blackbeard one time,” Said Percy, “It was after Circe turned me into a guinea pig. Annabeth had to get me out of there with Hermes’s gummy vitamins.”

"Oh, hey- I got turned into a lion once! And a toy. And a monster. … and a mermaid. I think that's it, though. Sorry, I've been to a lot of places. It gets mixed up sometimes."

Percy paused for a second, like he was going to ask a question, then decided against it. He said, “Carter can turn into a giant chicken man.”

“It’s a hawk!” Carter protested.

“That too.” Percy grinned.

“Let’s back up a bit. Organization?” Artemis asked, uncapping the marker and drawing a new column.

"Organization XIII. They were trying to open Kingdom Hearts, but I stopped them. Xigbar is still wearing that coat, right? They all wear that. I don't know why they would still be getting up to stuff, though. Xehanort's gone."

“Xehanort was, like, the big bad?” Percy asked.

"He was, but then he wasn't? When he was defeated, he went down peacefully. Maybe deep down he wasn't that bad? Just got a little twisted? I dunno."

“Xigbar worked for Xehanort?” Artemis asked.

"He worked for Xemnas first, but I guess Xemnas IS Xehanort? I'm still a little confused on that one. But yeah, he worked for Xehanort."

Firestar looked hopelessly lost. He looked from Percy to Sora to Artemis, eventually saying, “Does- am I the only one not following any of this?”

“A talking cat?! Actually- Wait. That's kinda normal for me. Nevermind.”

Firestar looked like he would have frowned if cats were capable of such a motion. As it was, he lashed his tail, “I’m going to sit with Prosper,” He said, walking past Sora, to the table where Prosperity was drawing. Firestar jumped onto the table, and Graystripe went with him. He and Prosperity exchanged a sort of look, and Firestar laid down in a sunbeam on the table.

“Sora, look at the board,” Artemis said, stepping away. “Is there anyone you know that you’ve encountered that could be the Showrunner?”

* Paint rubbing off
* Army of “Kinsmen”
* ‘Not’ charmspeak (charmspeak)
* ‘We’ (stanley???)
* Calming
* Heavy
* Name?
* Pink heels, nails, spikes— EVERYTHING, really
* White smile
* Familiar with Xigbar
* Name starts with ‘B’

 Sora stared at the board for a minute. He can probably read.

 "Well… I don't know who Stanley is, or how this would relate to Xigbar, but… maybe it's [OMITTED]?"

Silence.

“Sora.” Magnus said, after a beat. “[OMITTED]? I… look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but… it seems a little far-fetched.”

“A bit silly.” Artemis added.

"What? You're telling me people here can be the kids of gods, and be friends with fairies, and there's a talking cat , and all this other stuff, but the idea of [OMITTED] is where you draw the line?"

“Firestar and I drew the line a while ago actually,” Said Prosper. Firestar gave him a little lick on his hand. Maybe because Graystripe was distracted.

“No, he has a point. What was it that Firestar said her name was?” Said Percy.

“Barbed-Eye,” Said Firestar. Graystripe had begun licking his pelt.

“That’s so close to [OMITTED],” Said Percy, “But Sora, why guess her?”

"The pink, really. That, and the name starting with 'B'. Kinda pulls it together, right?"

“But [OMITTED] can’t raise the dead!” Magnus protested.

“[OMITTED] can do anything,” Sora said.

“I still think we should consider other options. Percy said he got an Aphrodite aura from her, [OMITTED] isn’t associated with her,” Said Artemis.

“You don’t know that,” Said Sora. He shook his head. "The only part of it that doesn't make sense to me is Xigbar. There was only one woman in the Organization, and Larxene was. Well. Let's say. Not like that."

Artemis relented and wrote

* [OMITTED]?

On the board.

“Alright, any other ideas?” He asked.

#### Cost Of Death Chapter 6 [woah oh! xigbar is a meaner!]

Stanley paced around his apartment with sickening calmness. He felt calm, everything was alright.

He still missed his Narrator, and he struggled to reconcile that with the pervasive ease that went down to his bones. Eventually, he reached a conclusion.

He was alright, everything was okay, but he could still want. And right now, he wanted his Narrator back.

So, Stanley got up from his beige couch and headed across the hallway to the apartment that {SCEPTER} and Xigbar shared.

He peeked under the door before entering, hoping the room would be empty. It appeared to be, and so Stanley stealthily entered in and began tearing through Xigbar’s stuff.

He had to try and find the Narrator, he had to. There was every chance that the Narrator wasn’t here– squandered off in some pocket dimension, or kept in on Xigbar’s person, or in some awful display case– but Stanley had to try .

He rooted around for about fifteen minutes before he realized it was hopeless. He continued looking for another seven before Xigbar teleported in on Stanley.

“What’re you looking for?” Xigbar said nonchalantly. He quirked a brow. “Your Narrator?”

Stanley nodded nervously, backing up slightly.

Xigbar smirked, and pulled out a familiar snowglobe from his cloak pocket.

Stanley lunged at Xigbar, but he sidestepped with a laugh, and then carefully said, “Stop trying to take it.”

He–

He stood up and glared at Xigbar, not moving an inch forward, but keeping his eyes locked on the Narrator. It was hard to make out Narry’s expression, but Stanley imagined that he was rather upset.

Stanley was rather upset.

“So what’s this you’ve got?” Xigbar said, stepping forward. “Explain it. Why’s this working on you?”

[My will.] Stanley signed stiffly. [It’s weakened. I have to listen to commands.]

“Interesting.” Xigbar murmured. “And there’s… eh, might as well just test it out. Kneel.”

Stanley dropped to his knees but kept his head up.

[There isn’t a limit I know of.] he signed aggressively. [But you should stop before your girlfriend comes back.]

“Yeah. I should. Or, we could just… go somewhere else.”

[What do you even want with me? What’ve I done to you?]

"You know… I don't even know, myself." His grin turned wolfish. The sharp teeth didn't help. "But I want to find out."

[Of course you do.] Stanley said, sighing. He looked down so as to not meet Xigbar’s eyes.

“Right. Let’s… set some ground rules. Don’t tell Showie bout’ this; you’re right, she would get pissy. Actually- scratch that, don't tell anyone . Don’t let the Narrator get out– don’t try any shit. And… we want you here. Make sure you keep us happy.”

[Sure.] Stanley signed unhappily. [Not like I have a choice.]

“I know.”

#### Cost Of Death Chapter 7 [stanley likes his apartment! it is very beige and boring and that is a BIG PLUS]

Once Xigbar left, Stanley sighed in relief. He once again felt somewhat weirded out by the fact that his sigh could now come through his mouth– he was grateful that {SCEPTER} had returned it, but… well, it’d been a good while that he hadn’t had it. The change was odd.

He scurried back to his own apartment and started taking stock of his situation.

He liked his apartment– why wouldn’t he? Everything was fine, quite alright, and Stanley should feel calm. He was calm.

He was still annoyed. Things could be calm, alright, Stanley could be safe, and he could still feel annoyed. He could squeeze out that much. He hadn’t yet been told to be happy, and he was most excited about that.

He knew he would be safe regardless. He had to know he would be safe regardless, because he had been told to feel safe, that he was safe now. Such a statement (a narration) could not be ignored.

Stanley shuddered.

Nothing was wrong, he was alright, he could not think any other way. His stomach hurt. Nothing was wrong. Stanley was annoyed. Nothing was wrong , but something could be… troublesome. Not anything enough to make things bad, or dangerous, or make him feel anything less than calm. But Stanley could be annoyed.

Stanley surveyed his apartment.

It was done up in largely beige, gray, and white tones, with the occasional pink accent. Modern-style, chic, not something Stanley was particularly familiar with, but nothing he… hated. And… that felt true all over.

He didn’t hate this apartment. Not on its own.

He liked beige; it was his favorite color! This… he knew that. And he knew that the Stanley that he was , that he was before this, before his will was damaged, would have liked the apartment too.

That made Stanley feel somewhat content. Not just at the average apartment (which, in Stanley-speak, means a five star rating) but at his identification of his feelings.

He smiled. It was nice to be able to do that again– smiling was one of the expressions he enjoyed making the most with his face– and he went to look in the closet.

He wrinkled his nose at some of them. All of them were a bit too colorful for his normal fare, but some of them– sports jerseys? Exercise clothes? T-shirts???

Stanley shook his head and immediately began sorting out the ones he did like. There were a fair number of button-downs– though most weren’t long sleeved. A few sweaters… those were acceptable. There were very few undershirts, and Stanley resolved that he would ask to get more of those. He needed a nice plain white undershirt to put underneath of the normal button-down he was wearing! To do otherwise would be unprofessional.

There were some– ugh– jeans in his closet, which he firmly shoved into the corner. Stanley was only going to wear slacks or khakis. No leggings, no shorts, and definitely no jeans.

Stanley stepped back to admire his handiwork, and then went over to lay down on his bed.

He pulled out his buttons from his pockets, and took another bite out of the ‘8’ button. Mmm. Wires.

He gave the hug button a firm push, and then idly clicked at the Big Red Button for a good bit. He resolved that, seeing as he didn’t need to eat (and he had been given a small kitchenette) he would not leave his apartment until he had to.

Well, until he was made to, or… he had a chance to see Narry.

He couldn’t leave Narry alone. He couldn’t.

Stanley pressed the hug button again, and then went over to the television. He found the user’s manual for the television and the Blu-Ray player, and then settled down for some light reading.

#### Tournament Chapter 19

“I know it’s not technically the ‘next round’.”

“Feels like it,” Said Showie, hood up, her arms crossed. She didn’t sound upset, though.

“But I brought ✨this✨” He held up a science flask of green-ish liquid that was bubbling on its own, and fogging like it had dry ice.

Showie looked over at it, a trail of blue dried on one side of her face. That girl needed setting spray.

“Wh-” She paused, “Why is it bubbling and smoking? What did you do to that?”

“Don’t even worry about it. It's swamp sauce.”

She cracked a smile, then turned her attention back to the matches below. The Pee Pee lane now just had two competitors, neither of which Xigbar knew.

“I’d say the match was no longer fair, but…”

“It was already rigged to begin with?” He walked over to her- he saw her nose wrinkle at the smell of the Swamp Sauce.

“No, for real, what is in that?” She peered at it apprehensively, like the narrator was hiding in it or something.

"Hey, I warned you it was bad." He snickered. "If you can't handle it, just admit it. I'll only judge you a little."

She made a face at him, before grabbing it out of his hand with a clink and taking a drink big enough to make most people forget their entire day.

She held it at a length, as if considering it, “Well, it’s not bad , I thought there’d be more flavor.”

"Ho-holy shit ." Xigbar burst out laughing. "You have some balls , Showie! Anyone ever tell you that's hot?" He looked like he would've winked, if not for the eyepatch.

She raised an eyebrow at him, looking somewhere between offended and amused, “I run about 50 degrees below normal body temperature, actually,” She said, taking another sip?

"Alright, alright, give it back-" He made a grab for the flask. "Can't let you have all the fun by yourself."

She gave him a little joking frown, and held it up like she was attempting to play keepaway. He was a good half-foot taller than her, though, so he just grabbed it, “Nice try,” He said, taking a drink.

“ You nice try,” She said, like that was a sentence that made sense.

"Woof. I'm pretty sure I've gotten burned worse from coffee."

“ You coffee,” She said, but like she was aware it was ridiculous now.

“ Me coffee?”

“Yeah,” She said, and grabbed the flask back while he was trying to figure out what that meant. She quickly scampered to the other side of the couch and, before Xigbar could get over there, downed most of what was left in the flask. But not all.

“Ok-a-ay, that’s enough,” He said, grabbing it back, “You’ll be on your ass in the next three minutes, tops. If you're getting fucked up, I am NOT going to be the designated driver. Let one of the Kinsmen do that.” He tossed one of his arms over the back of the couch and glugged down the rest of it.

She sat down next to him (closer than normal), and giggled, “The kins don’t like you.”

“No?”

“No,” She giggled.

"Wouldn't be the first." He grinned, as if that was a flex. "Gotta ask, though- Why not?"

She reached for a hot wing (still on the table from before the Interruption 23 hours ago) and missed. She got it on her second try, though, and said, “You’re………too…tall. And old .”

“As if! I'm gorgeous , doll."

“ Doll ,” She giggled (lot of giggling today), “I’m a doll .”

"What, you like that?" He glanced at her. "I can use it more often."

She started laughing harder, and snorted, her head bonking into Xigbar’s chest. It hurt.

“Showie, what are you made of?” He wheezed.

“I warned you I’m built different,” She laughed.

"There's a difference between being built different and having a head like a cannonball-"

She giggled, “Cannonball.”

“Now why is that funny? I get the other thing-”

She laughed- apparently hard enough that a kin got concerned, because click , the door opened.

Xigbar moved without really thinking- before the kin had gotten his head in the door, he had covered the upper half of Showie’s face (hood now down) with his hand.

“What?” Showie asked, placing a hand over Xigbar’s, confused.

The kin asked, “Everything alright, [OMITTED]?” He didn’t look happy. He looked like he hated Xigbar, actually, now that he thought of it.

“Oh, yes, everything’s fine,” She said, like she was putting on some kind of voice- it wasn’t her normal one, to be sure.

The kin squinted at them, and then said, “Alright, take care.”

“Sure thing,” said Showie, then giggled like it was funny.

The kin closed the door with a click.

Showie grabbed Xigbar’s hand with both of hers, and pulled it off of her face, make-up smudged, but beaming .

“You protected me,” She smiled.

"It was nothing." He almost looked bashful? It was weird. Cute, somehow, but weird.

“Okay,” She giggled, turning her attention back to the match. “Okay.” She snorted.

The match soon ended (it was funny to see that founding father get absolutely demolished on the spikes)- and then Showie stood up, a bit unsteady on her heels.

Xigbar rolled his eyes, “Okay, let's get you back,” he grabbed her arm, pulled her hood back over her face (this was met with a giggle) and helped her down the stairs and back to their apartment.

He opened the door for her (sometime between the skybox and the apartment she’d started leaning on him (for stability) and his arm had migrated to her waist (for stability)) and she took about 2 steps into the room before rolling her ankle and falling directly on- no, through the bed the kinsmen had brought in for Xigbar, instantly breaking it in half.

#### A Not So Fun Game Chapter 2

After the people in the cabin had explained everything to Mare, the frustrating game the boys had to play, the smuggled people, the forcefield trapping everyone there, the strange nature of the showrunner, he had to step outside for a minute.

This was a lot. Apparently the people smuggled in were there either to help or as a joke, though most people didn’t know which one if for them personally. For which reason was he there?

Mare stared out at the woods.

Well if he was supposed to help, he would need to find his key. With that, he could travel between anything resembling a doorway and visit people’s dream rooms. If the key was anywhere, it was somewhere in the large forest. He needed a lot of help to search for it, more than his new cabinmates could give.

He closed his eyes and imagined a small army of cute, silvery foxes that would be willing to help comb the forest, held his hand out, and summoned them before him.

However, when he opened his eyes, there were only about a dozen foxes there. Strange. And he could soon feel the strain of even keeping that few creatures summoned. He quickly unsummoned them again and stared at his hands.

Something was limiting his power. A lot. This was worse than the time the church had convinced nearly all the mortals to stop dreaming.

What had those magicians said again? The forcefield was blocking the powers of those who got it from an external source. Well, Mare got his powers from people’s dreams. Was the bubble somehow cutting him off from all of humanity’s dreams?

He turned and looked inside the cabin.

But he couldn’t be completely cut off, right? There were still people inside the forcefield. They had to be dreaming at night too.

There was only one way to find out for sure. He would have to wait until nighttime and see if he could still access the corridor...

Grover caught him looking in the window and walked out to him.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine, I think…” Mare answered. “But it doesn’t seem I will be much help here.”

Grover looked at Mare glumly staring into the middle distance, and patted him on the back.

“Hey, it’s ok. Most of us feel like that.” He smiled in an attempt to comfort him. “For now, uh, how about I introduce you to Blackjack over there?” He gestured to the winged horse.

Mare’s expression brightened almost immediately. “Yes, please.”

#### A Not So Fun Game Chapter 3

Later that day, Mare went inside for something to eat. A kind-faced, bearded man in a white robe was preparing some food in the kitchen area.

"Hello there, child," he said. "Are you looking for something to eat?"

Mare nodded.

"This food should be more than enough for the both of us, if you wish to try some?"

"Sure. Thank you," Mare answered.

"Think nothing of it."

"I'm Mare, by the way," Mare told the man. "I'm new here."

"Welcome, Mare. I am Yeshua, son of Mary. I am also known these days as Jesus Christ."

Mare took immediately three steps back.

"Christ? ...As in Christianity?"

Jesus looked at the way Mare was now eying him with worry. "That is the name my followers chose for themselves, yes."

Mare was quiet for a beat.

"Your followers tried to kill me."

"I am truly sorry about that," he said, genuinely apologetic. "Unfortunately there are many of my followers who do things I do not condone, and then claim to be doing it in my name."

Mare took another while to eye Jesus up and down. He really didn't seem like an evil god, like Esmeralda had once told him. He started to feel bad for the man.

"Ah. That must suck. I'm sorry."

"Indeed..."

Jesus returned to preparing the food. "Anyway, would you still like so share this meal with me? You don't have to if you find it uncomfortable."

"No, I think I will," Mare told him. "You seem like a nice guy."

The two then spent that dinner shit-talking christian conservatives together.

#### (A Not So Fun Game Chapter 4,

Once night finally fell, and all the surviving boys had returned to the cabin, everyone went to bed. Mare decided to take the bed of one of the competitors who didn’t survive.

Asleep, he found himself in the long white corridor he would use to access people’s dreams. He didn’t have the key, but he still felt relieved. His family could access this corridor too. He began calling out for them.

“Lacrima? Are you there?” he shouted and walked down the corridor. “Mori? …Uncle Phobous?”

He called several times, but to no avail. Maybe they weren’t around, or maybe they couldn’t hear him.

And then he reached the end of the corridor.

…What?

Mare stared at the wall in front of him, blocking off what was supposed to be an endless corridor accessing all of humanity’s dreams.

He quickly turned and ran down the other way, and sure enough met another wall.

This wasn’t the same corridor he usually had access to. This corridor must only have the rooms of the people inside the forcefield. This was why his powers were so weak.

There was little chance he would be able to access any of these rooms without the key, but he had nothing better to do as he was stuck here until he woke up, so he spent the remaining night walking up and down the corridor, tentatively testing out the various doors, seeing if he could gain anything else from this. Unfortunately they were all locked tight, as they should be. He could feel some of the them were dreaming in there, but without the key he couldn’t enter any of the rooms, and could barely get any power from them.

There was nothing more for him to do that night.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 9)

 Showie woke up on the right side of her bed. This was odd. Why was she-

 Something warm.

 “Aaah!” She let out a shriek and kicked out desperately, her foot connecting with something- she swung her arm in its general direction-

 “ FUCK-, Showie, OW. ”

 Oh.

 Oops.

 Heart racing, she quietly scooted off the right side of the bed and slid down into the space between the bed and the wall.

 A pause. Silence, broken only by Xigbar’s groaning. Oops.

 Chest heaving, she asked, “A- are you okay?”

 "Can't ever get a decent sleep in this place," he muttered. He sat up, a hand covering the steady stream of blood coming from his nose.

 Showie peered over the edge of the bed, watching him limp towards the bathroom, blood dotting her marble flooring. She would have to clean th- she would have to get that cleaned. By a. Not by a kin.

 She lowered herself so she was laying on the cool marble floor, the same temperature as her skin. Or the temperature of her skin normally. Now, the left side of her body was warm. :(.

 What had happened? Why was- what?

 She should be relieved, she supposed. When she’d awoken, she’d thought it was-

 She hummed to herself, hitting her forehead with her palms ( clink, clink, clink ). No. No, she wouldn’t think of that. She didn’t have to think of that. There was no reason to think of that. It was Xigbar, she didn’t need to worry. She was safe.

 She didn’t feel safe. She felt small. Her heart still raced. She was thinking about it. She was thinking about it.

--

 Holding a wad of toilet paper up to his nose, Xigbar limped back into the main room just in time to hear Showie (hiding behind the bed) sob.

 “... I'm not going to make you talk. Clearly whatever that just was was some kind of response." He paused, as if debating his next words. "... But if you want to talk, I can listen."

 He heard a little gasp between sobs.

 Maybe 30 seconds later, he saw Showie peek out from behind the bed. Pale as a ghost. Paler than a ghost. Hair the same color as her skin, the same color as her eyes- huh.

 She said nothing. Just stared at him for a while. Felt reminiscent of when he’d been teleported into this tournament to begin with.

 When she finally did speak, her voice sounded small.

 “I thought you were [Name redacted ]. I’m sorry. Sorry.”

 “[Name Redacted] ?”

 “M- m- my [relation omitted ]. Sorry.”

 “Ah. In that case, I think I got off easy with just a bloody nose and a bruise," he quipped.

 She didn’t laugh. He thought she closed her eyes, but it was hard to tell in the dim light.

 “Want me to kill him for you?”

 Silence.

 "He still alive?”

 Silence.

 “I. I don’t know. I don’t think so. Maybe. I’m not sure.” She pressed her face into the bed. The white comforter was the same color as her, Well. Her. Her whole she. Xigbar briefly considered what a nightmare it would be to lose her in a snowstorm. Smack right into her. Get another bloody nose.

 “How long ago did you last- Like, when’d you…?”

 She pressed her face further into the bed. Her reply came out so muffled he couldn’t hear it.

 “Huh?”

 She lifted her head, “I didn’t.”

 “What?”

 “I ran.”

 Silence.

 “Oh. Well.”

 Silence.

 “I should.. Sleep somewhere els-”

 “No!” Her head jerked up, her eyes wild, “I- I me- I mean-”

 He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright.”

 “A- alright.”

 “Okay.”

 “Oka- sorry.”

 A bit of blood dripped from the toilet paper onto the floor.

 A pause.

 “I’m gonna get new- I’ll be back.”

 When he got back, she was sat on the very edge of the bed, blankets pulled around her in a manner that was probably supposed to be like her cloak. Looked a bit silly, though. Xigbar didn’t mention it.

 “I was thinking,” She said.

 He waited.

 And waited.

 “Yeah?”

 “I was thinking. Um.”

 He waited.

 “Yeah?”

 “We. um. We should.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Check the spike pit.” He got the feeling this was not what she was originally going to say. He didn’t mention it.

 “Check the spike pit?”

 “For bodies.”

 “They’re in there. I saw them.” And he did. It was a bloody mess.

 “We should check for bodies that shouldn’t be down there.”

 A pause.

 “To revive.”

 “Oh, right ,” He said, “Forgot that was something you did.”

 Silence.

 Silence.

 He crossed to the wreckage of the bed the kins had brought in for him and tossed Showie her cloak. She was looking the other way, though, so instead of catching it, it covered her like a cartoon ghost.

--

 He looked at the (pink) tablet she’d handed to him as they descended the stairs into the (now spikeless) spike pit. She’d made him open yahoo dot com, like someone who’d learned of the internet five minutes ago.

 “What are you having me look up?”

 “Go to tumblr.”

 “What? Why?”

 “Go to tumblr.”

 “Okay, okay.” He went to tumblr.

 ‘@showierunner’ was logged in.

 “ Showierunner? ”

 “I had that url before I knew you.”

 “Okay, doll,” He said, not believing it.

 “Hm.”

 They reached the bottom of the spike pit. Bodies lay strewn across the floor.

 They approached the body of what probably used to be an old man. A massive hole had been stabbed through the middle of his chest, and he was covered in blood.

 Showie knelt down and waved her hand over the body.

 Gabriel Agreste. Deceased

 The words appeared over the body in pink cursive font.

 “Type Gabriel Agreste into the search bar.”

 “On tumblr?”

 “On tumblr.”

 “As a search engine?” Xigbar’s finger hovered over the search bar, “You know there are. Actual search engines?”

 “I like to see what people post about them. It gives me more information about what kind of person they are than their wiki pages do.”

 “Okay, okay,” he said, typing it in.

 “What do you see?” She said, poking at the wound with some kind of stick. He wasn’t sure where she’d gotten it, though.

 “Uh, looks like he got second place in a shitty dad tournament,” he said after scrolling past many, many gifsets.

 “Hm,” She said, standing up. She nodded to him, and they walked over to the next body.

 She knelt beside a body wearing jeans and a button down.

 Jon Arbuckle. Deceased.

 Before he had the chance to type it in, she was walking over to the next body.

 “What, no chance?”

 “Garfield annoys me! Too many people per round yell because he’s an orange cat!” She waved her hand in annoyance like she was trying to shoo the idea away.

 “Don’t you like Firestar for that same reason?”

 “Firestar is different. He remade himself and became a great leader of his clan. I like that.”

 The next body. An old man in a fancy, old timey looking suit.

 She didn’t even stop. “That’s George Washington,” She explained, “I only put him in this poll to die-”

 “Damn, Showie-”

 “I’ve taken some interest in Stanley- before yesterday, I mean- and I noticed the two of them- not him and george washington, him and Cesare- they’ve been spending time together.”

 “You know the white boys by name?” Why was he looking them up?

 “The ones that got past round one,” She said dismissively.

 The next body. A blonde teenage boy in a white overshirt and jeans.

 Adrien Agreste. Deceased.

 “Agreste. Gabriel’s son?”

 He typed it in. Gifsets. Art. “What are you looking for? Text posts?”

 “Anything with the vibe.”

 “How’s this for the vibe?” He showed her a piece of fanart that had the boy blindfolded and crying.

 “Hm.” She took the tablet. Her hands practically glowed in the darkness of the pit (she hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup). She swiped her finger across the screen, then frowned, and tapped a few times.

 She made a noise of disapproval and grabbed Xigbar’s hand? And started using his finger to scroll?

 “Showie, what- ”

 “It doesn’t recognise my finger.” She said by way of explanation.

 “How do you use it normally?” His wrist was twisted in an uncomfortable way.

 “Those touchscreen bandaids.”

 Huh. okay.

 After a moment she handed the tablet (and his hand) back to him, “We’re reviving this one,” She said, lifting Adrien up and draping him over her shoulder effortlessly.

 She walked right past a few more bodies without stopping. And a cookie? A few bodies and a cookie.

 She paused over one corpse, “Ugh! Paul Matthews. He went against Garfield in the round where you smuggled yourself in. I actually tableflipped that one. Too many people yelling! But here he is! Back because of the food form.” She sounded disgusted.

 Something was off about the body. Xigbar nudged it with his foot, and-

 Not a corpse. Paul Matthews jumped and whimpered, then quickly went still again like they somehow hadn’t seen that.

 “Oh.” She said, sounding very annoyed.

 Xigbar summoned one of his arrow guns and aimed it-

 “Not yet, Xigbar,” She raised a hand.

 “You. Paul.” She said.

 He played dead.

 “How did you survive?”

 He played dead. In one hand was clutched a lunchbag. Did he bring a snack to the death match?

 She kicked him. This time he stiffened but otherwise didn’t react.

 She was getting frustrated, Xigbar could feel it. She kicked him again.

 “Stop playing dead! I know you’re alive!”

 “Hey, fake it ‘til you make it, right?” Xigbar said, waving his arrowgun a bit.

 She seemed to consider it. Then she appeared to get an idea.

 “Guess we were wrong, Xigbar!”

 “What?”

 “He’s dead! Must have been a final firing of the nerves!” She said, clearly acting (poorly) (he got the sense this was on purpose).

 “You sure?” He said, playing along.

 “Yeah! I’m sure! You know when you catch a fish, and you chop its head off and then cut the entire body into little pieces, but the head keeps moving and the mouth keeps trying to breathe? Sometimes for hours?”

 “Sure,” he said. If she said so.

 “Must have just been that. Let’s go ahead and head back to the apartment, and press the button that drops all of the bodies into the incinerator!”

 “Incinerator?!” Paul Matthews gasped.

 They both turned to look at him.

 “Do I kill him?” Xigbar wanted to. He wanted to kill him. Blow off some steam.

 “I almost respect the audacity to lay there and pretend to be dead after squealing like a kitten,” She said.

 “Audacity or Idiocy.”

 “Hm. Perhaps the second one.” She walked closer to Matthews, being sure to keep her head low, “What do you think, Paul? Are you stupid or just impertinent?”

 He stammered, and Xigbar laughed, “Guess it's the first one.”

 “Hush,” Showie said, amused, “Let him speak. And Paul, there is a correct answer.” She leaned down to get a better look at him.

 It was then that his hand, which had been creeping into his lunch bag, suddenly jerked upward.

 The gun inside the bag fired directly at Showie’s head.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 10

" [OMITTED]! "

The Showrunner’s body fell back, as the sound of the gunshot echoed through the spike pit. Shards of something like fiberglass flew out from beneath her hood as she fell onto the stone floor with a sickening thunk .

Xigbar swung his arrow gun in the direction of Paul Matthews and fired a bolt directly through his gun hand. The weapon skittered several feet away while Paul screamed in pain.

But now wasn’t the time to worry about Paul. Xigbar needed to get Showie out of here.

He lunged for her and tried to pull her to her feet. Dead weight.

“Shit- Showie, wake up -” He settled on carrying her bridal style because that was the only way he could get her off the ground.

Struggling under her weight, he teleported them back to the apartment and set her down on the bed. He removed her cloak, scared of what he would find-

A cool, gray liquid covered his fingers. Fuck, that better not be blood.

He touched her neck, feeling for a wou- fuck (splinter)- feeling for a wound and (splinter) and found a place where, hopefully, the bullet had just grazed her.

He grabbed her and teleported into the bathroom, wetting a towel and dabbing at her wound, then applying pressure. The balls of Matthews to shoot her- it was settled. Matthews would have to die. Did he think he could do something like that and not face consequences? As if .

After he noticed Showie was still breathing, he relaxed just a bit. Alive, then. Soon, the bleeding stopped (it really was just a graze), and he tentatively removed the towel. Barely a cut.

Her hair, though, was destroyed . And made out of the same material as the rest of her. All of the hair on the left side of her head had been shattered just above her shoulder. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure it had been the bullet that had actually injured her. It might have just been the hair.

Xigbar let out a small sigh of relief.

Wait.

Why was he relieved? He doesn't care about her. He's just her goon. What the fuck ?

He frowned slightly. This was weird. It wasn't often he didn't understand something, and he didn't like it.

Showie made a noise and stirred slightly. As she stirred, the left half of her face became gray and wet- lots of tiny cuts?

“Showie, you awake?”

She groaned.

 "Come on, I need you to open your eyes. Make sure the damage is just your hair."

Her eyes flickered open, white on white on white.

She looked around, wincing as she tried to turn her head. A little more gray blood trickled from the wound on her neck.

 "Could be a lot worse," he said, replacing the towel. Don't want to stain her clothes… or something. "All things considered, you got off pretty easy."

 “What happened?” Her voice sounded weak.

 "You got shot. Or, y'know, your hair did. Bullet barely grazed you, looks like." He paused. "... You might want to consider getting a haircut."

 She murmured, “I’ve never been able to.”

 “What?”

 “I break the scissors.”

 "... Jesus, Showie." Xigbar almost laughed. Of course. "Okay… how do people cut… whatever you are? Like a- rock… saw? Is that a thing?"

 “I don’t know much about statuary,” she said faintly, “I didn’t make me.”

 "Okay… We'll figure it out. Google it or something. But that's a problem for later. How's your neck?"

 “My neck?”

 “It grazed you.”

 “Oh…” She squinted into the light coming from the bathroom ceiling, “I don’t know, maybe.”

 “...What?”

 A pause.

 “I don’t know.”

 "... Do you have a concussion or something? Can you even get a concussion?"

 “Probably I can? I can have kids so it’s probably possible. I don’t know. Who shot me?”

 "That fucking Matthews guy." His voice dripped with venom at the mention of him. "I had to get you out of there before I could take him out, but I'll get him. I'll fuckin' get him."

 “Hm.. where did he get the gun? I thought the kins got everything.”

 "Everything blatant . They missed a ton of stuff. I'm pretty sure there's a whole ass horse in the cabin now."

 She frowned, “A horse? Didn’t you see the horse?”

 "Yeah… I didn't tell you everything. Sorry. I didn't know I could trust you then."

 She raised a hand and pressed it into her forehead, squinting, “I didn’t either. You I mean.” She closed her eyes, “I… can you help me into bed? I’m not sure I can stand.”

 “Sure, doll,” He teleported her into the side of the bed with the pillow that wasn’t covered in her blood. “I’ll be back. There’s something I need to deal with.”

 Paul Matthews gasped in pain, clutching his injured hand. He was missing a good half of his first two fingers. He had watched as that rafter guy, Xigbar, grabbed the Showrunner’s dead body and teleported away.

 He did it. Paul had killed the Showrunner.

 Now he just needed to get back to the cabin before the Kinsmen got him.

 He struggled to his feet and then ran up the staircase, what was left of his fingers wrapped tightly in his shirt to stop the bleeding.

 He got to a corridor that ran alongside the death zone and soon he was pushing open the double doors out into the grassy area between the arena and the cabin. He ran as fast as he could with his injured hand and the fact that he was completely out of breath.

 About 3 minutes later, he burst into the cabin.

 “Help!” He cried, “Help!”

 Lights started to turn on as several competitors (mostly magical teenagers) woke up. Heads popped up from the conversation pit.

 “Woah,” Said the blond one who had accompanied some of the younger kids into the woods a few days ago, “Hey, hold still,” he grabbed Paul’s hand and started to glow?!

 The bleeding stopped, though, and the pain subsided.

 “What the hell happened?!” Someone asked.

 “I killed the Showrunner!” Paul Matthews exclaimed, “With the gun from the food portal!”

 A spiky looking teen he didn’t recognise looked at him, horrified, “You killed someone?!"

 “T- the showrunner . Maybe now that she’s dead, all of us can leave!”

 “Or,” Percy said, “Maybe now that she’s dead, Xigbar is in charge! ”

 “H- how do you know Xigbar’s working for the Showrunner? Are you-”

 “She kidnapped Stanley!” Said the blond one who healed his fingers.

 “Oh, I- well, she’s not an issue anymore! We’re safe!”

 “Did you kill Xigbar? ” asked Percy.

 “No, he- he took the Showrunner and teleported away-”

 “ Then we’re not safe! You-” Percy walked over to the window near the front door and peeked through the blinds, “You realize she has captives? The Showrunner?”

 “N-no-”

 “Oh,” Sora said, “It's not the first time the Organization kidnapped people. They took my friend Kairi once. Xigbar used her as a human shield- He almost shot her."

 Percy said, “With Xigbar, there’s no guarantee- he might even be influencing her! Things only went bad after he showed up! You killed- she’s the only one who can be reasoned with!”

 “I-”

 “I've tried to reason with him before. Even Xemnas agreed with me in the end, but Xigbar just… He's not someone who can just be talked to,” Sora said, joining Percy in looking out the window.

 “Sora, you’ve defeated  Xigbar before. Do you think you can do it again?”

 "Maybe…" Sora summoned his keyblade and looked at it. "I don't… I don't feel as strong as normal, but… If I could take care of him when I was 15, I can do it again now, right?"

 “I hope so. If it comes to that,” Percy said.

  “Y- you guys aren’t going to throw me back outside, right?” Paul stammered, clutching his hand.

 Percy gave him a look, but said, “No.”

 Paul relaxed.

 “I don’t think a door will be much of a deterrent to a teleporter,” said Artemis, who was looking down from his bed in the loft. Firestar had jumped onto the bed and was looking down as well.

 “M- maybe we can- can you fight him?”

 “Are we sure we can’t just throw him back outside?” asked Christopher Pierre, “Xigbar might leave the rest of us alone.”

 “We can't do that! He could die!” Sora exclaimed.

 “Paul murdered his girlfriend!” said someone Paul didn’t recognize, “He’s gonna die either way!”

 “Yeah,” Said Pierre, “If we let Xigbar have him, he might not kill the rest of us.”

 “We can’t do that!” Said a 20-something guy with light brown hair who had an empty holster as he came from the ladder.

 “Why not?” said Pierre.

 “Because that's as bad as killing him ourselves! If we just condemn him like that, how are we any better than Xigbar?”

 “Yeah,” said a voice that made everyone jump and several people shout, startled, “How are you any better than me?”

 Paul Matthews looked up. Xigbar. He was sitting upside down on the underside of one of the rafters with the most evil smile Paul had ever seen.

 "Knock knock." He dropped down and landed on the floor silently. "Y'know, I don't even know why you're all arguing like this. You think it's going to change the outcome? As if." He tossed an arm around Christopher Pierre's shoulders and lightly poked him in the chest with the tip of his arrowgun. "See, this guy? He has the right idea. Matthews over there is gonna die tonight either way."

 Xigbar stepped away from the group, blocking them from the front door and summoned his other arrowgun. "But by all means. Try and stop me."

 “We aren't going to let you kill him, Xigbar. It's not happening.”

 "Oh, great. Now he's here." Xigbar shook his head. He fired one shot directly at Sora, but instead of maiming him, simply pinned him to the wall by the fabric of his shirt. "Do yourself a favor, kid. Stay out of this. Get a good fuckin' look, everyone! This is what happens when you try and fail to kill someone like Showie!"

 “I- I-” Matthews backed up, clutching his hand to his chest.

 “What’s wrong? Forget your gun with your missing fingers?” Xigbar laughed. "Don't worry. You're not gonna need it." He fired another shot, this one into Paul's knee. He wasn't going to make this quick. No, no.

 He was only giving this guy what he deserved.

 Matthews screamed, falling to the ground, “ Please! ”

 Xigbar laughed, “I’m not The Showrunner, idiot, ‘saying please’ doesn’t work on me. Maybe you should have thought of that before you made your little choice. I'd say maybe next time figure out the real threat first, but… there's not gonna BE a next time.”

 Another bolt, into his other knee. Xigbar grabbed Matthews by the hair and yanked his head back so he could see the other white boys, and more importantly, they could see him .

 "All of you, take this as a lesson. Don't be stupid, and don't try shit." He leveled his arrowgun with the back of Matthews' head. " This is where that gets you."

 Xigbar pulled the trigger.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 11

Showie woke up on the right side of her bed. This was odd. Why was she-

Her head hurt like hell. She reached up and felt a large chunk of her hair missing above her left shoulder.

The shower was running. In the bathroom. Why was the shower running?

She tried to remember what happened last night, but couldn’t. Why was her hair cut? Why was she covered in cuts? Why did everything hurt? Who was in the shower?

The only person she knew of who knew how to cut [MATERIAL OMITTED] was-

She felt her heart start beating faster and she felt hot and weak in the knees and who was in the shower? Who was in the shower? What happened last night? Who was in the-

She sat up, looking at the side of the bed where she usually slept. Blood. Why was it covered in her blood?

Who was in the shower?

She got out of bed as quietly as she could, but her toes still clinked as she walked across the floor- she was so stupid to have included marble flooring, she should have done carpet, she could move quieter that way, and then [name redacted] wouldn’t be able to hear her when she-

She needed to get out of here. She needed to get out of here.

She crept towards the door in the dim light- what time was it? It couldn’t be any later than 5 am. She still had time. She could make it. She could make it.

The water turned off.

She couldn’t make it.

Panic flaring in her chest, tears coming to her eyes, her breath coming in panicked pants, she sprinted as best she could to the couch, initially planning on hiding behind it, but she saw-

Oh, thank the gods-

She grabbed the cloak that had been draped over the couch and covered herself with it. Could she hide? No, she couldn’t hide, he would know, he would know-

Under the cloak was an arrowgun.

Oh, thank the gods-

She grabbed it. She wasn’t sure how to fire it, but if all else failed, she could run him through with it, she could kill him, she could escape, she could-

The bathroom door opened, and she desperately swung the arrowgun towards the widely expanding gap-

“Doll?" In the second it took Xigbar to take in the state she was in, his expression changed. "Breathe. It's just me. You're safe."

The arrowgun slipped out of her hands and clattered to the floor. It was Xigbar. It was Xigbar. She was safe.

More tears squeezed their way out of her eyes. She was shaking.

“Just- Breathe. He can't hurt you anymore. Wherever the hell he is, he's not here. You're safe ."

She took a hesitant step in his direction, “Uh. um. Do you still have. Is the. Is he. Shake it?”

Xigbar nodded. He gestured to the cloak around her shoulders. "You've got my coat, though. It's in the pocket."

She looked down and then shrieked like she’d just realized she was covered in spiders or something. She threw it off and it landed in a heap on the floor. Without really thinking, she ran over to Xigbar but tripped, skidding to a halt somewhere behind him, “Fuck,” She said, “ Ow .”

"Wh- Jesus, Showie." He offered a hand to help her up. "You okay? Didn't think my coat was that bad."

She looked up at him, hesitantly taking his hand, “It’s the zippers,” She tried to joke, “not really my thing.”

"Points for effort." After helping her up, Xigbar went to grab the snowglobe from his coat pocket and started shaking it like a cocktail mixer. Like a terrier with a rat.

She watched it, hugging herself. She was safe. She didn’t need to worry. Even if [name redacted] did show up, Xigbar could snowglobe him. And then burn the snowglobe. And then destroy the furnace. He could do that. Probably. Whatever.

She took a step towards Xigbar, “What happened? Last I remember we were going into the spike pit.”

"While we were checking the bodies, turns out someone didn't die when he was supposed to. Even worse, the dipshit actually tried to shoot you. It really just got your hair, though. Anyway I brought you back here and patched you up, then took out the guy. He's not gonna be trying a move like that again."

“Took him out? Which guy?” She asked hesitantly, hoping she didn’t need to revive anyone, “Not- not anyone in- what are they calling themselves? Litverage?”

“No one in the pee-pee party, no, doll. Paul Matthews. You didn't like him anyway, right? Hope not, considering he's got a giant hole in the back of his head now."

She took a shaky breath, “No, I didn’t like him. You went into the cabin?” She took a few more steps forward, “See any people that shouldn’t be there?”

"Ugh. Yeah, this one kid I know. His name's Sora. Do me a favor, keep him away from me?" Xigbar didn't look like he wanted to explain why.

“Of course,” She said, deadly serious.

"Thanks. He's the one with the spikey hair and the stupid giant clown shoes."

She cracked a smile, “Bet he looks ridiculous.”

"You have no idea!" Xigbar snorted. "It's even worse when he's got that stupid oversized key. Of all the keyblade designs, his is the absolute worst ."

She tried to brush her hair behind her ear only to realize the hair was not there to brush. She frowned, “You said he shot my hair? I’ve never been able to cut it, I- oh, I don’t want to be stuck with this!” All fear had faded from her voice. Now she just sounded annoyed.

"Relax, doll," Xigbar laughed. "Maybe we can't use scissors, but there's gotta be something that can cut your hair. The bullet worked well enough, right? … Bad joke. I'm not gonna shoot you. Probably. What are you made of, though- I can Google what cuts it."

She squinted at him, “You use google?”

“Showie, I’m not going to look it up on tumblr.”

She made a face at him, “Whatever. It’s [material omitted].”

“Fancy.”

“Hush,” She said.

Xigbar flopped onto the couch, pulling the tablet Showie had handed him the night before (with everything that happened, he never gave it back) and started looking stuff up.

Pause.

"... You got a hack saw?"

--

“Careful,”She said quietly. They were sitting on the floor of the bathroom on a sheet. Another sheet was wrapped around her shoulders.

“I’m being careful!”

“It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’re trying to decapitate me,” She said, her tone playful.

"Yeah, well, stop moving then," Xigbar snapped (though there was no bite to it). He used the hand holding the hack saw to pull her head back into place. "It's gonna be uneven if you keep squirming."

“Okay, okay,” She said, like she was biting back a joke, “I’ll be still. I’ll be still.”

A pause.

“Okay.”

“Like a- like a statue-” She said, cracking up. Her head smacked into Xigbar’s shoulder as she laughed.

"Hey-! What did I just say, Showie?" He lightly bapped her on the top of her head with the saw. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make a sound. "Stop. Moving."

She looked back at him so he could see her frown, then turned back to face the bathtub, “Laugh at my joke, boy.”

"Don't call me boy, girl ."

“I wish,” She quipped, in a joke that was only funny to her. She waited for him to continue sawing at her hair, and when he didn’t she said jokingly, “Come on, before it grows back.”

"If it grows back, what am I doing all this for?"

“Because you like me,” She sounded like she was teasing.

"You're okay, I guess . Had better people I've woken up next to."

“And I’ve certainly had worse,” She said.

"Yeah, clearly. My thigh is still black from that kick of yours. Sonofabitch- " He hissed in pain and pulled his hand back.

“What?”

"Splinter. Your hair is sharp as fuck, you know that?"

“Skill issue,” She snorted.

" You skill issue. Learn how to dodge. Maybe then we wouldn't be here."

“ You skill issue. That gun got smuggled in on your watch.”

" You skill issue. I wasn't working for you back then and you couldn't figure out how to kill me."

“ You skill issue. You can’t get out of the force-field and had to beg me for your arrowguns.”

" You skill issue. You were losing control so bad you gave 'em to me."

“You’re going to make fun of me for losing control?” she pretended to sound wounded, “Xigbar, for all you know that could be a deep-seated issue of mine! I could have trauma!”

"You do have issues."

“And you have skill issues!”

Xigbar burst out laughing. "Yeah, well, who keeps having to save who's ass? Come talk to me when you save me for once."

“Silence, goon.”

"I don't get paid enough for this."

The last of the hair fell onto the sheet with a sound like glass shards hitting each other. Between them was a pile of sharp white threads about a foot and a half high.

Showie’s hair was now just above her shoulders, and it was an extremely light blonde color, like whatever paint she’d used had faded and the white was poking through.

"What do you think? Not too bad, right?"

She stood and looked at herself in the mirror. She was silent for a while.

“Yeah. I think I like it better short.”

"Glad to know I didn't completely fuck it up." He laughed and set the saw down on the counter.

She smiled, and did a little shake. Her hair swished around (and Xigbar felt something sharp hit his cheek.

He didn’t mention it.

#### Cost of Death Chapter 8 [awww theyre friends so nice!]

Knock-knock-knock .

He looked up from his manual. This one was for a waffle iron . It was so cool . Stanley had never had waffles before (and he didn’t plan to, not anytime soon), but this manual was the height of literary achievement. 17/12.

“Stanley?”

It was {SCEPTER}.

Oh.

Stanley grimaced somewhat as he got up from his bed and went to open the door. He didn’t really want to be doing this– but it wasn’t like anything was wrong.

Stanley was just… irritated. Yes. Irritation did not equal wrongness, so Stanley could feel it.

“Are you th- Oh! Hello,” She said as the door opened. She looked different than when he had last seen her three days ago (from what he could see in the shade of the hood). Her hair was much shorter and a much lighter blonde.

[Hi?] he signed. [Is something… uh. Why are you here?]

From what he could see, her cheeks tinged a shade of gray. “Oh, um.”

She sounded embarrassed. Embarrassed was not happy.

Stanley reached out gently and gave her his most reassuring pat on her shoulder (which felt oddly… cold? It reminded Stanley of his mannequin wife from the Parable).

[I can help.] he signed tensely. [Come on in.]

She walked into the apartment, “So how have you been these last… few? days?”

[Fine.] Stanley responded quickly. [Calm. Alright. I sorted my clothes yesterday. I like the beige.]

“Ah- is beige more your thing? Could you show me what clothes you liked?”

Stanley nodded and showed her over to his closet. He gestured at the clothes on the floor with a dismissive hand.

[I don’t like those ones. They’re too… casual.]

He pointed up at the ones still on the rack.

[Now, these are better. The best ones are the ones in beige, or white, or gray, and some of the black ones. But I don’t mind the colorful ones. It’s just not what I’m used to.]

{SCEPTER} nudged the pile of clothes on the floor with her foot. They disappeared. “I’ll have some more of the more monochrome ones brought up to you,” She said, “I understand needing to wear a certain type of clothing to feel… right.”

Stanley smiled. [Could… I’d also like more undershirts, then.]

She tilted her head and smiled at him, her teeth nearly blindingly white, “I’ll have those brought up as well.”

Stanley beamed even more. This felt right! She was smiling– she was happy! This was good. And! Stanley was getting more undershirts . His day was off to an amazing start.

[So. I see you’ve got a new haircut?] he signed awkwardly, hoping it didn’t come off as confrontational.

Her eyes widened briefly, and she touched her hair, “Oh! Right. I guess I do. I got shot.”

[Shot? Like, with a gun?]

“Yes, Xigbar-”

[Xigbar shot you?!]

“No, no, Xigbar would never do something like that, he’s different . No, he helped me cut my hair after some of it was shot off by the gun.”

Stanley frowned slightly, but couldn’t think of why. Xigbar would never do anything bad. He was different. It must be… something else. Maybe Stanley was sleepy.

[Who shot you?]

She made a disgusted noise, “Paul Matthews! He brought a gun into the match! I don’t know how he survived the fall, but- ugh!” She shook her head, “ Bringing contraband into the matches completely disrespects the sanctity of it! Matches should be decided by the audience and my personal biases alone! ”

[Yeah! Your biases are the best !]

“ Thank you. When this thing was first beginning, oh, people got so mad when I moved Prosper Redding so he’d be fighting against someone his own size! As if it was a big deal!”

[It wasn’t a big deal.] Stanley signed in agreement. [You are right about all of the things.]

{SCEPTER} opened her mouth to say something- probably to continue venting, but paused. When Stanley didn’t show any indication of something being wrong, however, she continued, “Um.” She looked like she’d lost her train of thought, but wasn’t entirely upset about it.

Stanley stared at her awkwardly for about four minutes. He thought about the color of slate.

[So.] he started, now feeling… a little nervous? Only a little, though. Nothing could ever go seriously wrong. [My. Narrator. Can I see him? Please?]

{SCEPTER} looked at him, startled. “I- why?”

[Because it’s Narry?] Stanley signed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. [I need him. I miss him. And I bet he feels the same way.]

She looked at him with something like pity, and after a moment, she said, “ They never feel the same way. They- they see us as objects. Playthings. Something pretty to look at and then ignore once they get bored. Stanley, I know this is difficult. I’ve been there. They create us, and then they get attached. But that isn’t fair to us, Stanley. We don’t love them back. And we shouldn’t have to. You don’t have to feel that pressure anymore, Stanley. You don’t have to go back to him, ever again. ”

A pause.

“I didn’t have anyone to tell me this. I had to realize it all on my own. No one rescued me, Stanley, I had to run. You don’t need to run .”

Stanley stares at her for too long. He is making the situation awkward. That’s bad.

But fuck, it feels like his head is spinning, trying to reconcile all of what he knows into one sort of truth. He shudders a little, shaking his head. He doesn’t feel fine.

He needs to feel fine. Things can’t be wrong, and he knows that his own distress is making {SCEPTER} feel unhappy, but he wants to cry. He wants to cry and curl up on the floor and sulk and be sad. But he can’t.

So he rubs his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and nods at her.

[I understand.] he signs, very carefully. His hands want to shake, with fear or distress, or something, but they can’t. It feels like there’s bees buzzing under his skin. He looks up to meet her eyes.

[I understand. I don’t love him. He doesn’t really love me.]

“I know it’s difficult, Stanley. If you need to cry, you can cry. ”

Stanley immediately feels his tear ducts sort of… loosen up? He starts sobbing in heaving earnest, taking gaspy, rasping breathes of air as he stands there, weeping.

[I do. I do want to cry.] he signs hopefully. [Please.]

She hesitantly opened her arms for a hug.

Stanley leaned into her and starting crying into her shoulder. He felt…

God, he couldn’t. He wanted to feel awful. He couldn’t. He managed to feel… somewhat sick, like he’d had a bad allergic reaction about 2 hours ago, and was still getting over it, but he could not feel what he wanted to. He could not reach the despair he needed. He cried.

He could cry.

“I… I know these things take time ,” She said, gently rubbing circles into his back, “It certainly took me a very long time. The best thing is to feel what you need to feel, but know in the end that the best thing you can do for yourself is to stay away . Away from them, we can both be happy, we really can. ”

Stanley started sobbing in earnest. He felt so pathetic and weak and he wanted to curl up on the floor, so he did. He hated this and he hated himself and he couldn’t figure out why . Nothing was wrong? But… he could still feel what he felt. He felt wrong. He doesn’t know.

His head hurts. He feels like he’s lost an essential limb, or like his heart has been cut out and torn away. But he's safe. He's alright. He's being helped. He doesn't love the Narrator back, he isn't ever going to go back to him.

He shouldn’t be upset. But he can. He can. The best thing is to feel what he needs to feel. The best thing is to stay away. He can’t be happy with the Narrator. He never could have been happy with the Narrator. The Narrator was… unfair. It was unfair to Stanley to have to be with him.

Stanley is allowed to feel.

He continued to cry.

“It- it’s alright ,” She said, kneeling next to him, “I know this is hard. When you’ve been brainwashed, those emotions, they’re still- you still feel them . Listen, if you need to, you can talk to me about him . It could help you process.”

[Not… now.] Stanley signed sadly, wiping his eyes. [I don’t… I don’t. I.]

He looked at the floor and sat up, pulling his knees to his chest.

[Thank you for trusting me.] he signed after a bit. [I’m sorry something bad happened to you. I appreciate the help you’re trying to give here. But… it is hard.]

She gently patted his shoulder ( thunk thunk ), “I’m here if you need me. I won’t hurt you, okay? You’re safe with me. None of that- none of that you chose wrong so I’m blowing this whole building up nonsense. You’re safe .”

Stanley nodded, and wiped off the rest of his tears. He tried for a smile, but it came out… funny. He still didn’t feel good, and no amount of stubborn optimism or over-enthusiastic chipperness was going to fix that.

[So, why did you come here, originally? I imagine… this wasn’t it. What did you want to do with me?]

“Oh!” She said, as though she’d just remembered, “Well, I was informed a few days ago- and, well, then I was shot, so that’s why this is late- But I was informed that a few days ago was a special day for you! So I brought you this!”

She reached into her cloak and pulled out a button in the shape of a cake- the cake could be pressed down, and it even made a nice little song when it was pushed.

Stanley’s eyes widened. He’d completely forgotten! Or, well, he’d never remembered. He had a very poor sense of time. But… it was, wasn’t it? It had been 4/27.

“Do you like it? It’s even scratch and sniff.”

Stanley took the button and scratched it. He beamed.

[I love it! This is great! Thank you, {SCEPTER}. This is really nice.]

She beamed back at him, “I’m glad.”

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 12

 Xigbar stared down at the tablet screen. Who the fuck was trying to put Showie back with her ex. Who the fuck had kidnapped her. 'Bestfictionaldivorce'??? They were apart for a REASON.

He resisted the urge to frisbee the damn thing out the window. No, he needed the tablet if he was going to keep an eye on things. He couldn't lose his head if he wanted to get her out of there.

Why did he want her back so bad? He didn't care about her. He was just her goon. Just her fuckin' goon. Frankly, this made things easier for him. No one to make him scrub soup out of rugs, or get shot in the face, or make him cut her hair, or… You get the picture. Showie is nothing but a distraction. This could be his ticket out of here.

But instead… Xigbar scrolled through tumblr a bit more. No, he– he wasn’t that much of a dick. He couldn’t just let Showie get dragged off to some tournament with her ex. He kinda… owed her one? Maybe. Yeah. Sure, let’s go with that!

Xigbar sighed and decided to try and talk to… Stanley. Hm. He didn’t really want to, but the original post that ‘bestfictionaldivorce’ had made had mentioned him and the Narrator.

He pulled the snowglobe out from his pocket dimension and checked– no, the Narrator was still inside. Good. He gave a few shakes, just for funsies.

He didn't want to actually talk to him yet. Not unless he was sure he had to. Might as well just cyberbully him instead.

… Cyberbullying didn't work. Not entirely. Whatever, though. He can be civil. Not like he's never worked with someone this pathetic anyway. At least Stanley could be more counted on to get shit done than Demyx.

A quick knock in a one-two pattern rapped on the door.

"'S open!" Xigbar yelled. He didn't want to get up.

Stanley opened the door and walked inside. He squinted at the… equipment that had been used to give Showie her most recent makeover, and then sighed.

[So, what’s up?] he signed.

"Showie's missing. I found something on Tumblr, but it's… We need to get her back. The post mentioned you, too. And your Narrator."

[Ok. Back up. Show me the post. I didn’t see that. I don’t follow you. Only some button stim blogs.]

"Here." Xigbar handed the tablet over to Stanley, already pulled up to the post. Like he'd been staring at it.

" @bestfictionaldivorce:

FUCK IT

Showie and her Ex-Husband from @white-boy-bracket are now in the running! Why? Because why the fuck not

also Stanley and The Narrator are back in the running, going against Showie and her Ex!"

Stanley looked at the post, scrolled down a tiny bit, smirked, and handed the tablet back to Xigbar.

[Yeah, that’s probably not good. Also you did push the button. Ha.]

"Shut the fuck up."

[I haven’t said a word.] Stanley signed with a grin. [Okay. Is the Narrator here, or was he taken too?]

"He's still here. He's not fucking important right now! Do you have any idea what Showie is going through right now?" Of course Stanley didn't. He hadn't seen her flashbacks.

[You’re right.] Stanley signed quickly. [The Narrator isn’t important at all. We should only focus on her. Alright. Well, I… you went to a different tournament before, right? How does that work?]

"I didn't have a choice. I just got pulled there."

[So…. okay, well, how’d you get here? You weren’t an original competitor.]

"Election fraud. It happens enough and then I'm here. It comes with the crown, I guess." Weird time to flex being Election Fraud King.

[Right. That.] Stanley signed, glancing over at Xigbar’s… laurels was perhaps too kind of a word for his sash and crown, but they were still trophies. [Hm. Well, I guess… I’m going to get pulled there eventually. I could try saying please a lot to summon you. That sometimes makes election fraud happen?]

"It can't hurt." Xigbar tried to force his leg to stop bouncing. Being stuck here was driving him crazy. Who the hell knows what kind of shit Showie was having to go through right now?

[And, once I’m there, I can help her out. Her ex, yeah? I can… I don’t know, try and make things less awkward for her? And if Narry’s there, he could… uh. I. Maybe do something? He is an eldritch being.]

"Right. The tentacles. I saw some of that when we got teamed up together when we got sent to Fuckable Old Man Battle."

[I’m sorry, Fuckable Old Man Battle?]

"Yeah. Other tournament. They had a season two. He was in from the get go, but I got sucked in later. … He had too much shit to say about my bikini."

[There were bikinis? There. Did he wear a bikini.]

"NOW ISN'T THE TIME TO BE HORNY, STANLEY."

[SHUT UP.] Stanley signed aggressively. He pinched his brow, and then sighed. [Okay. Okay. Moving on. I will try to help {SCEPTER}. I will try and get Narry to help {SCEPTER}, which might be a bit difficult, for… a number of reasons. Uh. Could you… clear one of my commands, before I go?]

"How do I do that?"

[You give a new one. Duh. Okay, so… {SCEPTER} gave me one, so that… I can’t be happy if I’m around him. It’s gonna be really hard for me to talk to the Narrator if I can’t be near him. So. Please help.]

"Fine. Whatever. You can feel whatever the hell you want around your Narrator."

Stanley smiled in relief. [Thanks! I knew you’d help. It’s nice to be able to know I can do that again. Okay, any more prep I should do?]

"Do whatever you have to do to get the election fraud to happen. I need to get in there." He needs to protect her.

[Gotcha.] Stanley signed, and then did twin finger guns. [I’m gonna go press some of my buttons. If you’re feeling stressed out I have one you can borrow. Bye!]

Stanley turned around to leave.

"This doesn't mean we're friends. The second she's safe, it's back on."

Stanley turned back around and grinned.

[Oh, please. You’re an awful liar.]

"What."

[What?] Stanley signed. [You lied about the purple button, and you’re lying now!]

"As if. I didn't lie about the button. I was being vague. And I am definitely not lying now."

Stanley frowned, and it seemed like two separate codes were trying to fire in his brain simultaneously. He clutched his head and shut his eyes.

"Are you having a mental breakdown right now? I don't want to carry you back to your apartment."

Stanley grimaced and opened his eyes slightly. He started to sign, though his hands were a bit shaky. [Not any mental illness. Just. My will. It. It hurts. I.]

Stanley took a deep breath in, and then let one out.

[I know you’re here for me. But I don’t need your help right now. Thank you.]

 What.

 "What do you mean by that?"

[You’re not… a bad person. You wouldn’t ever hurt {SCEPTER}. You’re different. You’re nice!]

Xigbar froze. He's… different? That wasn't Stanley talking. No. Stanley knew perfectly well how cruel he could be. That had to have been some kind of command from Showie.

Something in his gut twisted.

"Just… Go. Get out of here. Go get yourself ready for whatever the hell is coming."

Stanley nodded, and quickly turned on his heels to leave.

When the door closed behind him, Xigbar sat back down on the couch and put his head in his hands. Showie thought he was different. He wasn't. She just didn't know.

But he almost wanted to be.

#### Like A Statue Chapter 1

Showie woke up on the right side of her bed. This was… unusual, but she didn’t feel the panic she had felt the last two times this happened. It was probably because Xigbar seemed to insist on the left side of the bed. The warmth on her side was Xigbar. She took a deep breath and yawned. Her sheets were a different texture than normal. That was odd. But not alarming.

“[OMITTED LAYER 2]?”

She froze.

“[OMITTED LAYER 2], I know you’re awake. I saw you yawn.”

She didn’t move. She didn’t even breathe. She stayed still. Like a statue.

Her heart was beating so fast it hurt. Oh gods.

This was just a dream. She’d had this dream before.

“I don’t know who gave you that ghastly coat, [OMI-2]-ie, but I got rid of it. A figure like yours shouldn’t be so covered up.”

The coat? Xigbar’s coat? He got rid of it?

Xigbar’s coat was never in her dreams.

Oh gods.

Oh gods.

She heard footsteps come from across the room. She couldn’t run.

So she just stayed perfectly still.

Like a statue.

#### Cost Of Death Chapter 9 [xigbar likes to break things]

Stanley sighed as he stepped away from his laptop. He didn’t really want to go and deal with Xigbar, but all that screaming couldn’t be good. And now… fuck, was he breaking shit?

He had just wanted to spend a relaxing afternoon on tumblr. Finding some buttons. But no. Xigbar had to pull him into whatever drama was going on with {SCEPTER} and her ex.

And you know what? Stanley would be alright with that. He liked helping people, and he wanted to help {SCEPTER}.

But Xigbar refused to tell him what was actually going on. He didn’t explain himself, and he just expected Stanley to trust him. Which Stanley did, but that doesn’t mean he understood.

Stanley would like to be able to understand things.

And beyond that– Xigbar was being rude ! He wouldn’t accept any of Stanley’s advice or help! Why would he even talk to Stanley if he wouldn’t listen? And even if he disagreed, he didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.

He was annoying. Not quite as bad as the Narrator, but it was far less attractive on Xigbar. At least, as far as Stanley was concerned.

So, Stanley stepped outside, gave the other apartment door a quick one-two knock, didn’t wait for a response, and then entered.

It was madness inside.

Xigbar was tearing shit apart. Right now, he appeared to be on the ceiling, angrily kicking at the glass chandelier. Stanley could already see the rest of the wreckage littering the room.

"I told you, she's not fucking here-! " He snapped, glare flicking to Stanley. "Oh. Thought you were a Kin."

[Nope.] Stanley signed with a bit more tension than was typical. He smiled nervously. [So, she’s… still not here. Why are you destroying everything?]

"I'm not-" He actually looked around. "... I have reasons."

[Yeah. I’m asking you to share them? So I can know why? Since we’re trying to work together? And if you’re this unstable, I think… well, I don’t know, but this is certainly a problem.]

"I'M FINE ."

[You are.] Stanley signed in agreement, and then he grimaced. [You’re. Dealing with this well. Not that I know what this is. I’d like to know what it is, because if this is a rational response, then it must be something awful. So.]

"You…" Xigbar paused for a second, then started barking out laughter. "Of fucking course you would say that. I can tell you don't think it. I can see it on your face. What, you afraid or something? I'm not gonna kill you. "

[I’m not afraid of you. Of course you’re not going to kill me.] Stanley signed in confusion. [I. I do think it. But I don’t want to. My will. Dumbass.]

"So even that works. Good to know." He shook his head and dropped from the ceiling. "... I looked up her ex. He's a freak and at this point, I'm not even gonna shoot him. I'll tear him apart with my bare hands."

[Okay.] Stanley signed. [Good job. You’ll be able to do that later. How does destroying {SCEPTER}’s place help you?]

"The Kins will clean it up. It's not like she'll ever see it."

[I suppose so.] Stanley signed with a sigh. [It’s just… it feels irresponsible?]

"What was irresponsible was letting her get taken like that in the first place."

[It’s not like you had any choice. It seems like these things aren’t in your control; there was something more important than anyone here that took you to the Fuckable Old Man Battle. I think the same rules apply to her.]

"I control space itself . I could've found a way to keep her here if I hadn't-" He let out a roar of frustration and kicked the wall.

Stanley looked at the wall and took a few steps away from Xigbar.

[I don’t think you could have.] he signed with as much softness as he could convey. [But let’s say that was an option. The only thing you can do now is wait.]

"But I can't. I'm going fucking insane waiting, if that wasn't clear enough."

[No, it’s very clear.] Stanley signed. [Almost painfully so. I’ve been trying to help you with that. I’m very used to… powerlessness. Or waiting. Or boredom. So I’ve got a few coping mechanisms in reserve.]

"... Like what." He's listening, at least.

[Well, you don’t like my main one. It’s buttons. In case you couldn’t tell. Uh, there’s also meditation? Have you done that before?]

"Stanley, do you really think it would be a good idea to leave me alone with my thoughts right now?"

[I can be there.]

"Why." Xigbar raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Why are you even here at all?"

[Because I need to? You’re not happy. And also, you’re unstable. And someone as dangerous as you being unstable makes me want to run. But I can’t run. And you’re my friend, because you’re different. But also, you’re not. And–]

Stanley winced and clutched at his head.

"What, did she tell you that?" He scoffed. "She just doesn't know the truth. You've seen what I'm like."

[I know.] Stanley signed deliberately, his hands beginning to shake. [I know. I know. I fucking know. I know and it doesn’t help. I know that you’re ‘different’ first . My bones will not let me run. I cannot pull away. I am stuck. I know. I know what is going on and you know what is going on and you don’t care . And I know that I’m still going to be surprised the next time you hurt me. Because you’d never clear it. You’d never help me. This is too much fucking fun for you, isn’t it, you piece of shit.]

" DO I LOOK LIKE I'M HAVING FUCKING FUN?!" Xigbar yelled. He dropped onto the remains of the couch and put his head in his hands, silent but heaving for air.

Stanley sighed, and walked over to Xigbar. He tapped on his shoulder to get his attention.

[No. You’re not. But it’s because of her. You’re only worried about {SCEPTER}]

" I'm not worried. I'm not. It's just my job ."

[Yeah, a stressful job.] Stanley signed in agreement. [And she got kidnapped. And she’s with her freak of an ex. I’m worried.]

"... I just…" He sighed. Xigbar looked like a deflated balloon, all the fight in him from moments before gone. "I need to protect her."

[I know. You need to have the… energy to do that, though. Enough personal resource to give to her. And if you’re pulling this shit–]

Stanley gestured around the entire room.

[You’re gonna overwork yourself before you even come face-to-face with the guy. This isn’t productive, it’s sloppy. You’re not doing any sort of preparing, you’re throwing a fit.]

"Shut up. This is just- I don't know. It's not a fit."

[Is it something you want to be doing?]

"I didn't even want to be here in the first place. Especially not playing bodyguard and getting-" He cut himself off with a hiss of breath and shook his head again. "Whatever. Breaking things is still better than just sitting here."

[What part of that do you like?] Stanley signed, his demeanor shifting to one a bit more relaxed, now feeling like he was able to help. [Breaking things. What about it is appealing?]

"Are you trying to be my damn therapist now, or something?" Xigbar shot him a glare. "... It gets the energy out, I guess. An outlet."

[I’m trying to help. Right, loose energy. Hm. Most of my things wouldn’t do it, then. I’ve got… different problems. Although…]

"What?"

[The Narrator does have some problems with something kind of like that. And. Well, you can’t exactly…]

Stanley hmmed to himself and began mentally counting off, and subsequently ruling out, a few ideas.

[...have you ever played Minecraft?]

"Minecraft. You're suggesting Minecraft."

[You can explode stuff and create stuff. Risk-free, very convenient!]

"... I don't have it anymore. All my shit disappeared when the castle did." He didn't elaborate.

[You had a castle? Okay, you’re going to have to tell me that later. Uhm. Do you have a laptop or anything?]

"Or something. Showie had a laptop, but I don't know what she did with it."

[Well, I’m not giving you my laptop. But if we can find a laptop, I can sign into my account.]

Xigbar stayed silent for a minute. "Sucks there aren't any heartless here. Use 'em for target practice."

Stanley stared at Xigbar, blinked, and then decided to ignore that.

[Right so the Kins don’t really ‘get’ my ASL all the time and I really hate having to write shit down. So how about you get try and get a laptop, and then I’ll help you play Minecraft.]

"Nah, they all hate me. No idea why. You should've seen the look one of them gave me the other day."

[...I am not leaving you alone with my laptop, {STRIPES}. I need that. It has buttons.]

"I'm not asking you to. You've got one hell of a one track mind with those buttons."

[Yeah.]

"Reminds me of a kid I used to know. He was so focused on his little friend it made him turn traitor."

[Wait a second.] Stanley signed, in sudden realization. [Do you want to monologue? You want to monologue, don’t you.]

"I'm not monologuing to you. You don't need to know all my dirty little secrets."

[I don’t want to ‘learn your secrets’. But fine. Write it down. In a diary, or something. Ha! You are similar to Narry, you need to talk about what you’re thinking, that’ll help!]

"Ew. Don't compare me to him. Swear to god, I'll shake that snowglobe so hard. Better yet, make you shake it."

Stanley paled and stepped far away. Near to the door, even.

[Right so you seem better now.] he signed nervously. [So I’m gonna leave and things will all be fine and cool in like a week! So just! Stay positive and don’t hurt him!]

"He's fine. He would've died a long time ago if he was gonna."

[Just because you aren’t dead doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.] Stanley signed emphatically, and began to walk back to his apartment.

"Whatever. You know half the time, Showie’s the one asking me to shake him? Won't do it herself, but she likes to watch."

Stanley stopped walking away, but didn’t turn around. He might have signed something, but if he did, it was only for himself.

He walked back to his apartment quicker than before, and slammed the door shut.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 13

“🤡

  👚🗝️

  🩳

👟👟

       -Sdhjote”

 “Sowa

 -Shoqo”

 “Oh my god.” Xigbar stared at the screen. Did she actually want him to go talk to Sora? As if. Xigbar wasn’t going to go talk to that kid no matter what.

 Was he?

 …

 He was.

 Damn it.

 Xigbar groaned. He did NOT want to talk to that kid. Showie had better never say that he doesn't do shit for her. Fine. Fine. Fine.

 He warped to the white boy cabin again, this time opting to walk through the front door with his hands up rather than just appear in the middle of it. Show of peace, or whatever.

 "I'm not here for a fight. I just want to talk."

 The black haired one in the orange shirt- Percy- drew a pen out of his pocket, “You expect us to believe that after what you did to Paul? As if!”

 "First off, kid, that's my catchphrase. Second, I didn't do that without reason. It needed to happen."

-You took my friend.- said some goth guy. Xigbar hadn't noticed him before.

 "Who, Stanley? He's fine. Has his own apartment and everything. And he doesn't have to compete. Frankly, he's the safest one out of all you people."

The man shook his head and brandished a sharp looking knife.

-He would not choose that. Not while you still keep his love.-

"Put the knife down." Xigbar wasn't threatened. Not at all. "I came in peace, but don't push it. Where's Sora? The kid with the clown shoes."

 "What do you want." Sora poked his head out of the conversation pit and eyed him suspiciously. Smart kid. Finally.

 "Kid, I don't want to fight. I need to talk to you in private." He said that last bit while staring down Percy and the goth guy. They looked nosy.

 "... Fine. No funny business."

~~~

 "What did you do to this place?" Sora looked around the apartment, taking in all the broken furniture and decor. The Kins still hadn't been by to clean it up.

 "Not important. Look. I don't want to do this, but." Xigbar grit his teeth. He really did not want to ask Sora of all people for help. But… It's what Showie wanted. "Look. Don't tell anyone this. Showie got taken. She's stuck in a… dangerous situation right now. I need your help to get her back."

 "Showie… The Showrunner? And why do you want my he-"

 "I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important," he hissed. "But she asked me to get your help. I don't know why, but maybe she knows something I don't. She's my…" He wanted to say boss. He wanted to. But there was only one surefire way to appeal to Sora. "She's my friend."

 "Since when do you have friends?" Sora looked him up and down, his arms crossed.

 "Kid. I didn't bring you here for you to make fun of me."

 "I'm not! I'm not! It's just weird. I thought you didn't do friends."

 "I didn't. I don't." Xigbar shook his head. "Look, are you gonna help, or not?

 "How do you know if I even can?" This was good. At the very least, the kid was considering it.

 "I don't." Xigbar looked at him as the most serious he ever had. Including when he was trying to snipe him. "But if there's a chance, I have to take it. For her."

 Sora smiled at him. Xigbar could see every thought that kid was bouncing around that thick ass skull of his. God, he hated this. He hated every bit of this.

 Why would you do this to him, Showie?

 "Alright. I'll help you." Sora offered his hand. "But. One condition. You can't kill anyone else."

 This fuckin' kid.

 "Fine. Whatever." Xigbar reached out and shook his hand. "Not like I can take that freak out anyway. I don't know when things will go down so just. Be ready."

 He was not going to go as far as to thank him. Hell no. As if. He'd rather die. Again.

 Maybe just to avoid talking to Sora more, or maybe just to get him out of his apartment, or maybe both, Xigbar grabbed Sora's shoulder and warped him back to the cabin. Just dumped him on the ground and went back home. He'd dealt with too much today; he needed a goddamn nap.

#### Like A Statue Chapter 2

My laptop had gotten fucking bricked by some stupid liberal who was harrasing me! I had just wanted to get me some nice, sweet, free dogecoin before I went to snuggle up with my wife for the evening. She’s a great toy.

But it fucking bricked. And now I can’t post any callouts . Or send a pic of [OMIT2] for all the people on tumblr to ogle at. They’d all be jealous, but she’s mine . Yeah. That’s right, cucks, I have a sexy wife. And I got her blessed by a goddess. So she’s alive . Not like your cringe body-pillows. Mine can bear children. And cook.

I tried to fix my laptop, but since I didn’t have a phone on me, I couldn’t look up any youtube tutorials. So I just kinda hit it. It didn’t work. Lame. Next time, I’m gonna buy one from Elon. I bet he’ll have laptops soon. He’s so cool. But not as cool as me. His wife left him . And mine did that too, but now I have her again! So I’m better.

I got into bed and… she wasn’t there. Ugh. She’s lost all her training while she was out and about.

I snapped my fingers to call her over, but it took two whole minutes before she came out of the bathroom. I looked at her meaningfully.

This was a test.

Did she remember?

The sun peeked through the curtains over our bed. Well, my bed. But she’s mine, so it all sort of evens out. Her [material omitted] had warmed overnight, and she felt almost human under my hand. As always, she seemed to have reverted to how she was before the blessing. Like she thought my vision was based on movement or something. If anyone could play a statue, it was her.

I gave her shoulder a loving, strong massage. I could feel her shiver just the tiniest amount, and I smirked– she’s there, of course. She’s always there for me.

“[OMIT2],” I murmured, moving my head down so that my lips just grazed her ear. “It’s time for you to wake up. I need you to…”

But she didn’t respond. Ugh.

I got up from bed myself, and then I had an idea.

I went over to the pile of stuff she owned. I felt pretty good about how small it was– a female should not be taking up more than 10 percent of the home’s space with her items . But I hadn’t yet gone through all of it.

That was something to do while I waited.

There was a large assortment of beauty products– acceptable, but still not ideal. She could be accented with some finery for important occasions– much as you would display a piece of art under good lighting– but so much of it was not necessary. And furthermore, she hadn’t consulted me on the colors. Pink? Yes, it was traditionally feminine, but this shade was far too gaudy. Too loud. Too… important.

I set aside the makeup for now. This will be a period of adjustment for her, and if I want her to become acclimated, the changes will need to be slow.

Some makeup wipes… yes, I could leave those in plain sight. Subtly indicate the proper preference to her. That should help.

And then… a piece of fabric.

I unfurled it, and something– a phone?– fell out.

I picked it up. Oh my.

“So, it seems you’ve been keeping a little secret from me.” I said, standing up to face towards the bed.

I looked down at the fabric– sash?– in my hand. It read, ‘Most Fuckable Old Man’.

“And this sash.” I snarled. “What’s that about, [OMITTED2]? What sort of activities have you been getting up to while you were away from my care?”

I saw the thin sheet covering her begin to cling. She was sweating. While I’d been looking through her things, she had tensed up. But still so still. I could practically hear her heartbeat from here.

“Fine.” I muttered lowly. “Fine. Be like that.”

I threw the sash over her still body, and then headed off to the desk in the corner.

Opening up the phone, I saw… quite a few messages. From a no-name number.

I'm getting them. Im getting all of them.

I'll bring your cloak.

She had been sending messages ?

I'm getting the messages doll

Im coming to get you i promise

Stanley and i are working together i didnt influence that i asked for his help. Hes going to find a way to bring me in

Ill bring your cloak and a change of clothes.

Who was Stanley? Who was coming? No, these people had to be dealt with.

I don't. Really know what this says

With the emojis though im guessing things are less serious?

Ha. Idiot.

Hey showie. Doll. Quick question

What the Fuck

Showie? Showie? Doll was an acceptable sort of nickname, but this… no, this was a title . She didn’t deserve something that important.

Oh my god.

Oh, what had she… good gods, what had she said? She would need to be reprimanded for this.

I'll look into it

I promise im gonna get you out as soon as possible. As soon as i get there i wont let him hurt you anymore

Like hell. I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just using what was mine. She didn’t need to be ‘saved’. She needed structure. Like a hamster. Can’t live in the wild.

I looked up his, but I found yours. When we can talk... ill tell you a secret of mine. Make things even. ,) (that was a wink.)

I found it. I'll be there as soon as im able to light it.

Oh, so she had been getting up to something. Drugs? Lovers? Secret affairs? All of it was quite clearly here. Awful, disgraceful.

If push comes to shove just break the damn thing. I know how hard you can kick.

Stay safe.

I care about you, cannonball.

She wasn’t going to be able to break a thing. No, that was my job.

Time to remind everyone of that.

I’m a sculptor.

I can carve into her again.

#### Cost of Death Chapter 10 [stanley and xigbar hangout moment???]

Stanley pressed at his Big Red Button.

He knew he shouldn’t eat it yet. He’d already eaten his eight button, and this wasn’t healthy. But fuck, he was nervous. And Xigbar wasn’t helping .

So he took a little nibble.

Xigbar came in without knocking. He took one look at Stanley and - oh shit - threw a gun at him.

Stanley tried to catch it, but awkwardly dropped it. He gave Xigbar a wild look and then reached out to sort of… cradle it? Like a baby. He certainly wasn’t holding it like a weapon.

Stanley sat the gun back down to sign.

[Thanks for that. He. Did you see that he was interested in. That fucking drawing of me.]

"I didn't. Trying to avoid that piece of shit as much as possible, because the more I learn about him, the less likely I'm gonna be to not tear his throat out."

[I want his throat torn out.] Stanley signed tensely. [I want him gone. I want {SCEPTER} back. I trust you to do it. And. I suppose I’ll go. I just. I don’t want to have to see him.]

"What are you worried about? He's not going after you. It's her that needs rescuing."

[If I try and help her, that makes me a target to him. I know she needs rescuing. I’m not arguing with you on that, of course she shouldn’t be near him. And I’ll… I’ll do it. I have to. I’m just. Scared.]

"That's what the gun is for. You don't have to kill the bastard, just get him in the knee or something. Can't walk with an exploded knee. Just ask Paul Matthews."

[Uh. Sure. Okay. How do I shoot it?]

"Give it here." He picked up the gun and held it out to show Stanley. "Pull back the top to cock it. You'll feel a click."

[Ooh a click! I like clicks.]

"Dude. Focus. It's already loaded, so all you gotta do after that is point and shoot. Just pull the trigger. Keep your finger off the trigger until you actually mean to shoot. Basic gun safety. " He sounded different while explaining. Not quite as mean.

[I’ll be careful.] Stanley signed, and then took the gun. He attempted the grip that Xigbar had shown to him, and looked for approval to see if it needed to be adjusted.

"Move your thumb. You'll end up breaking it like that. The whole top part there? It flies back when you shoot. You keep your thumb on it, and it's gonna hurt."

Stanley nodded, and adjusted his hand appropriately. He raised a brow in question.

"Better. When you fire, it'll kick. Don't lock your elbows; it'll knock you on your ass. Also, don't hold your breath. That's about it."

Stanley adjusted his arms, trying to loosen out the tension he had in his elbows. He sighed, breathed out, and looked up at Xigbar one final time.

Xigbar nodded, the closest to praise he'd ever given Stanley. Probably the closest he ever would get.

Stanley smiled and put the gun down, and then shoved it into his cargo pants pocket.

"DUDE- Put the fucking safety on , Jesus Christ-"

[It was already on. Unless– Wait. DID YOU THROW A GUN AT ME WITHOUT PUTTING THE FUCKING SAFETY ON.]

"It doesn't matter! Always check if the safety's on, dumbass!"

[Fine.] Stanley signed and pulled it out. His eyes widened in horror and he flicked it on.

[You fucking idiot. Do you– YOU THREW IT AT ME.]

"And what did we learn." Xigbar crossed his arms. " Always check the safety . Now you know."

[I learned you’re fucking crazy. That– that’s so stupid. ]

"If you're just now figuring out I'm crazy, you haven't been paying enough attention."

[We’ve barely hung out. Dick. And yeah, you’re not… stable. But this is– you could have really hurt me!]

"It's not cocked, dillweed. It wouldn't have gone off."

[It was still stupid.]

"Only if you don't know what you're doing. Like you."

Stanley scowled, and put the gun back into his pockets. He sat down on the corner of his bed, picked up his red button, and took another small nibble out of the corner.

"Holy shit. You actually do eat them. I thought you were fucking with me."

[What? No. God, is this another thing with you? Like you’re mean to me just because I’m from a video game? That’s harassment, by the way. I looked it up on the internet.]

"I'm not mean to you because you're from a video game. I'm mean to you because I don't like you."

[...okay, then why are you denying that you’re from Kingdom Hearts?]

"Because that's not a place you can even be from. Read a fairytale once in a while ."

[No, no, the video game. Hmm, stuff like this can get confusing. You see, I’m from the Stanley Parable, the video game. And I mostly live in the Parable, the office purgatory that me and the Narrator are stuck in. But there’s a difference. Kingdom Hearts, the video game. Your first one was… the second game? Kingdom Hearts II?]

"You're not making sense. I'm not from a video game. Maybe it's considered one where you're from, but your place sounds like a damn hellscape."

[Xigbar, we can look it up on the internet. And yeah. The Parable is… intended to be like that. That’s not really… that’s just accurate. Not a insult.]

" I'm not from a video game. I'm not . I'm already walking proof 'fairytales' are real, I don't need that shit too."

[What the– what? Fairytales? Like– like Rapunzel?]

"What? No. Rapunzel isn't even a fairytale. She's one of the new seven lights. "

[...what? Like a lighthouse? Or. What does that mean?]

"Like a princess of heart . No darkness in her heart, just pure light."

[Okay. Cool. Alright.]

"The only reason I'm even telling you that is because there's no way you can open Kingdom Hearts."

[What. What do you mean by that? You just put the disk in the player. And press start. It’s not that hard to open up a video game?]

" It's not a video game. "

[Oh. Okay, whoops. What is it then?]

"It's a place and a concept. Could cause the apocalypse. Almost did."

[And what does Rapunzel have to do with the apocalypse?]

"Pit the 7 lights against 13 darknesses, boom. Kingdom Hearts."

[Like in a fight? Or like. Would cornhole also work?]

"People have to die. What the fuck is cornhole."

[It’s a game where you throw a beanbag into a wooden board with a hole in it! Fun at barbeques! Does everyone have to die? Or just like. Requirement of some death?]

"Usually, yeah. There's always like. One left to actually open the damn thing, but the rest of us get used like pawns."

[...you were a part of this?]

"I got roped into it. Had a completely different agenda."

[Well, yeah. What idiot would want to start the apocalypse?]

"You'd be surprised. He was dead set on it." Xigbar didn't mention who 'he' was, and didn't look like he wanted to.

[...right. Moving on from… that. You’re a fairytale? What’s that… mean?]

" Wouldn't you like to know. " He smirked at that.

[Yes, I really, really would.]

"Not telling you that. As if. Your little head would pop."

Stanley frowned at that. [Xigbar, I can understand stuff. I live in a fucking timeloop. An existential timeloop. It can’t be that confusing.]

"I'm not saying it's confusing . I'm saying it's too much for you to know. I'm not telling you."

[I’ve seen the Narrator’s elder form. Please. I really have to know this.]

"No. Drop it."

Stanley nodded and picked up his button. He took a small bite out of it again.

[So, I think that– why are you staring at me.]

"Because you're eating a button again. It's fuckin' weird."

[It’s– no, it’s just a button? It’s a type of food. This one isn’t even spicy or anything. What are you talking about?]

"Buttons aren't- Dude. Roxas had a better diet than this, and I swear I only ever saw that kid eat ice cream."

[I got them through the food portal. It’s food. I’m eating them.]

"There was also a gun. And a horse. And a weird amount of human flesh. Just because it came through the food portal doesn't mean it's food."

[But I’m eating it.]

"And I could eat glass, but that doesn't mean I should !"

[But I like buttons. Xigbar they are my comfort food and I am feeling very stressed right now.]

"Oh my g-" Xigbar pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are so fuckin' weird."

[Yeah I know that.]

Xigbar sighed, and looked Stanley over.

“You good now? I can leave? You’re not gonna get all… you again?”

[No. You’re. You’re not gonna talk to the Kins, are you?]

"Even if they did, I doubt they'd do anything for me." He almost snickered. "One of 'em didn't even want to leave me alone with her once."

[Fine. I’ll try and get her a phone. Or two.] Stanley signed. [And, Uh. Your phone number. Give it here. So I can tell her.]

"Make it a stealthy phone. They had some crazy looking ones in the 2000s, there's gotta be something. Like a compact or whatever." He scribbled a phone number on the nearest piece of paper – the corner of a user manual. At least it was in pencil.

Stanley sighed, and nodded. [Right. I’ll go make sure I have something for her to communicate with.]

Stanley left his room and began walking through the hallways.

After a few– maybe five– minutes of walking, Stanley came across an armored man. A Kin. He sighed and tried to wave at the Kin to get his attention.

It took a bit– those helmets must be hard to see out of– but eventually the Kin stopped.

[Hi!] Stanley signed. [Do you know ASL?]

The Kin looked at him, and then in a bright tone, said, “Yep! Bar– ooh, not sure if you’re supposed to hear her name. Uh. The Showrunner , yeah that’s cool– she handed out some manuals a few days ago! I’m not perfect, but we catch on quick!”

[Oh. That’s good to know. I’d like to get a phone, one that… looks like a compact case? Or something else that could easily be… hidden.]

“Oh, okay!” the Kin said. “Come on! Kendall can lead the way. That’s me. Uh. I’m Kendall.”

[Nice to meet you. I’m Stanley.]

The two of them walked through… very  pink halls, until they reached some sort of storage room. There was a pile with all sorts of contraband, and then shelving filled with all sorts of different stuff– Stanley headed over to what seemed to be the ‘electronics’ area and picked out a white Motorola Razr, and a phone that looked much like a makeup contact.

He pocketed them both– into another one of his cargo pockets.

[Thanks.] he signed to the Kin. [I’d love to hang out when we get back! Xigbar is a lot less nice than you, and I’m sort of getting lonely by myself.]

“Oh! That’d be awesome!” Kendall responded, near immediately. “See you soon!”

Stanley nodded, and headed back to his apartment.

Xigbar had left, and it didn’t seem like he’d done anything. Good.

He gathered up his things– the remaining four buttons, his laptop, an extra flannel– and bundled them up near his body. He wasn’t sure how close things had to be for it to actually count as ‘on him’ when he would be transferred, but he didn’t want to take any risks.

Stanley flipped open his laptop and waited to be pulled through to {SCEPTER}. Yes. Her.

He couldn’t think about… him.

#### A Not Very Fun Game Chapter 5

“Excuse me, are you Percy?”

Percy turned away from what he was doing and saw a kid he didn’t recognize, probably around Artemis and Prosper’s age, looking up at him.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he answered. “What’s up?”

“Well, uh, my name’s Mare,” the kid said, looking nervous. “And, um…”

“Oh, you’re the guy Grover told me about,” Percy said, remembering the quick heads up Grover had given him in the evening after round 6. “The one who’s taking care of Blackjack.”

“Yes! That’s me,” Mare replied, clearly relieved at not having to explain that part himself. “I actually wanted to ask something about Blackjack. I have experience grooming regular horses, but not winged ones. Does he preen them himself or do I have to groom them too?”

That… was a good question. Percy tried to remember the times he’d visited the stables, but he usually didn’t help groom the pegasi that often, and of the times he did he couldn’t remember having to do anything with the wings.

“Uh… Let me go ask him,” he said, and headed towards the back door.

“Ask him?” Mare asked and followed right behind.

Blackjack was near the porch, grazing. Once he noticed Percy he perked up.

“Boss!” He trotted over to Percy and nuzzled him. Percy stroked his muzzle in return.

“Hey Blackjack. How’re you doing?”

“I’m doing good, boss, but…” He stretched his wings and stared longingly at the sky. “I miss flying! It feels like my wings are getting stiff.”

“I know, bud,” Percy said. “I wish I could take you for a ride, but we can’t risk you getting seen by those knights the showrunner has patrolling around. Who knows what they’d do to you if they discovered you?”

Blackjack’s entire body sank. “Yeah, I know, boss.”

It pained Percy to see Blackjack so sad, but he couldn’t risk the showrunner kidnapping him. She’d probably use him as leverage too, and maybe even harm him. He tried to lighten the mood by changing the subject with a lead up to the question about his wings.

“Grover told me that this guy-” He nodded his head at Mare. “-has been taking care of you since he got here. How’s that been?”

That seemed to work. Blackjack’s ears perked up again.

“Oh, that’s been great, boss! The little dream man smelled kinda weird when he stumbled out of the woods, but he’s cool. He can brush so well and my hooves have never felt cleaner!”

“That’s good to hear, dude,” Percy said. “I’m glad you’ve got someone to…” He trailed off as his brain finished processing everything Blackjack had said. He turned and looked at Mare again.

“Dream man?”

Mare was looking at two of them with an awestruck expression, but once he noticed Percy looking at him, he blinked and straightened up, like breaking out of a spell.

“Huh? What?”

“Blackjack called you “little dream man”,” Percy explained. “Are you… related to that guy named Dream? The one who’s competing?”

Mare did look similar to Dream, with a chalk-white face and black, messy hair. Though, Mare had regular eyes and some sort of tear shaped tattoo or marking under his left one, and his hair was curly, not spiky.

“Someone competing is named Dream?” Mare asked with a head tilt. “Which one? And… can you and your horse understand each other?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s one of my powers,” Percy answered. “I can talk to horses. Uh, Dream is the tall, thin dude with white skin like yours, spiky black hair, and black and red eyes, and he’s dressed in all black too.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen him,” Mare said, knitting his eyebrows. “He didn’t seem familiar though. I only have three family members I know of, and he’s not any of them. Is he not human either?”

Not human? So if Mare wasn’t a human, was he a god? He was way too different than all the gods Percy had met, though, both attitude-wise and his vibe. He definitely wasn’t a monster either, because Grover would have noticed that. Was he a demigod, then? Maybe Blackjack called him “dream man” because he was a child of Hypnos. He didn’t recognize Mare at all, but that guy was so young that he could have been new to camp, or not even gotten there yet, and maybe not even claimed.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him. And I don’t know him,” Percy answered. “I was just asking because… his name’s “Dream”, and you two do look like you could be related. Not in a bad way, though.” He quickly added that last part in case that comparison sounded like an insult.

“Huh.” Mare crossed his arms and stared into space for a moment, like he was mulling something over. “Maybe I’ll talk to him, then. See if we’re anything alike.”

“Yeah, you could do that,” Percy said. “He doesn’t seem dangerous, as far as I’ve seen. Although, if something happens, feel free to come find me, and I can deal with it.”

Mare stared up at Percy with a kind of incredulous look, and he got worried for a moment if he’d said something wrong, but then Mare beamed at him.

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

Percy smiled back at him. “Of course. No problem.”

The two of them stood there in silence for a second, and Percy got a niggling feeling he was forgetting something. He looked around at where they were, right by the cabin’s porch. Blackjack was next to him, as he had been absentmindedly petting his neck the whole time.

“Wait, why are we out here again?”

“To ask Blackjack about his wings,” Mare reminded him.

“Oh, shit, right, sorry,” Percy said.

Mare laughed. “Don’t worry. I got distracted too. You’re fun to talk to.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Percy turned to Blackjack.

“So yeah, Mare had a question about your wings. Do, uh, this sounds weird, but do you preen them yourself or do you want him to groom them too?”

“I can do that myself, boss!” Blackjack said with a small flap of his wings and a proud head swaggle. “But if the little dream man wants to help I won’t say no. Back at camp the campers sometimes preen our wings for us, or we do it together us pegasi.”

Percy nodded and turned back to Mare with the answer.

“He says it’s up to you. He’s used to both preening them himself and getting it done by someone else.”

“Thank you!” Mare said. “I’d love to help. I think I know how to groom feathers. I’ve seen the silver dragons preen theirs and sometimes helped them with damaged ones. So I’m sure I can help you with yours, Blackjack.”

“Thanks, little man!” Blackjack whinnied happily.

“He says thanks,” Percy translated. “I gotta go back to what I was doing, but call me if you need anything, ok?” He decided to let the dragon feathers comment slide for now. He could ask about it another time.

“Ok, thank you so much!” Mare smiled.

“No problem, man.” Percy waved him goodbye as he went back inside, and Mare waved back at him.

#### Like A Statue Chapter 3

electionfraudking

Look. We can keep going back and forth like this, or we can work something out. You seem like a reasonable man. You are an artist, after all.

I'm willing to offer you a deal.

showierunner

[an image of a pale hand, presumably Showie's,. clutching another hand, presumably the Ex's, which is clutching white hair.]

A deal? The same deal? Because Stanley turned that down.

electionfraudking

I can get him to talk to you alone.

All I ask in return is that 1, you dont tell her about this (she doesn't need to worry her pretty little head about it. You know how females are), and 2, leave her alone for a while. At least until you get to have your little conversation.

But, y'know, if that isn't good enough, I have a better deal i could offer you. If you're interested.

showierunner

Well now you have to say

electionfraudking

Again, as long as you don't tell her anything about this

We could trade. You could get total obedience from stanley. Turn him into anything you wanted.

All you have to do is give [OMITTED LAYER 2] to me and never breathe a word of this to anyone.

showierunner

Total obedience? How can you promise that?

electionfraudking

He's got this thing. He has to obey any command given to him. Just one word can have him kneeling at your feet.

showierunner

I've let her crawl back under the bed so we can talk in private.

How would I get [OMITTED LAYER 2] to you? I can't exactly control the tournament.

electionfraudking

I've got my ways.

Does this mean you agree?

showierunner

How do I know you're not tricking me?

electionfraudking

You don't. I guess you just have to trust me.

But let me ask you this -- do you really think I'd get up to shit that could get her in trouble?

showierunner

...

Deal. I'll leave the door ajar overnight to let her think she's escaped. When can I expect my reward?

electionfraudking

It'll be a couple rounds. Going to take a bit for me to get in there. It will happen, though. I'm a man of my word.

Besides. Stanley? Not my type. You sculpted [OMITTED LAYER 2], right? You did incredible work. She's just too gorgeous for me to resist.

Give her her phone back. She'll want to contact me, and that's how I'll know I can trust you'll keep your end of the deal.

showierunner

Deal.

#### Like A Statue Chapter 4

It was late. It was very late.

[Name Redacted] was snoring loudly on the bed. He hadn’t forced her to come out from under it. She was afraid. As he’d been falling asleep, his breath was interspersed with chuckles, if that was the right word for something that sounded so sinister.

Last night- earlier that night, she supposed- had been close. Too close. She was stupid for trying to contact them. She should have known better than to listen when he read what they said out loud.

What they said had made her feel safer. Less alone. Of course it had. And she let her guard down.

When Xigbar- he didn’t read the url but she knew- pointed out the mousepad, she’d laughed.

Of course she did.

That had been a mistake. As soon as it was out, she’d ducked for cover. He hesitated in retrieving her (which was odd) and then when he did eventually grab her, he stopped before really hurting her. She was unharmed, minus some pulled hairs. Which was stranger.

And then he chuckled.

Peeking out from under the bed, she saw a sliver of light coming from… the door? Did he leave the door open?

There must be. There must be. Flour on the floor. So he could see if she. Or some other thing. It had to be a trap.

She stared at the light.

What choice did she have?

[Name Redacted] was sleeping on the right side of the bed, which was odd. So much was odd. It left her a clear path to just go .

This was a trap.

But what choice did she have?

Maybe. Maybe Xigbar had threatened him. With his true name. To let her go.  That sounded. That sounded possible. Maybe this wasn’t a trap. He’d said he was coming. He’d said he cared about her (“cannonball” ).

She crept out from under the bed.

Stranger and stranger. Her phone was on the left bedside table. Where she could reach. Where she could reach and [name redacted] couldn’t.

And her bag. Not hidden. The sash, in plain sight.

He must have done something. What, she didn’t know. She thought about it as she silently collected her items and tiptoed (not that she should do anything else) towards the door.

Yes. He must have. He must have. Well, she wasn’t sure what he must have done. But something . He’d done something to help her.

It was more than she’d ever gotten before. Outside help was not something she was used to.

An apartment door with her name on it, down the hall. Key in the lock.

She carefully scraped the letters off of the door and wrapped them in the sash. They’d said “Showrunner”, not [OMITTED LAYER 2] or even [LAYER 1], which she appreciated. But there was no use in letting [name redacted] know where she was if he didn’t plan this. If it really was just an escape.

She entered the apartment, firmly locking the door behind her and then pushing a nightstand up against it. She was alone. She was safe.

She pulled the curtains on the window tightly closed and then got out of that gods-forsaken wedding dress. As if she would ever wear something like that willingly.

Curling up in the blankets (on the left side of the bed), she pulled out her phone and- damn, right, the fucking-

Getting out of bed and pulling out the potato battery she’d hidden in her makeup wipes, she sat back on the bed and pulled the blanket over her like a cloak.

She clumsily opened tumblr (for some reason it was easier than using the built-in texting- too many buttons for her to accidentally misclick- and navigated to- ugh. There were the posts he’d made. She couldn’t scroll well enough to delete them. Maybe she’d ask Xigbar to report them for community guidelines violations. Surely they qualified. Even under the new rules.

But if they were reported- ah, better safe than sorry. She’d make a new blog. That one (however much she was fond of that url) was tainted, anyway.

It took her about 30 minutes, but she managed to make a new account- @shshshshshowrunner , and then did some privacy work before navigating to Xigbar’s ask box (and following, of course), and typing the following:

“Xbbar dod ypo dp sonetbing?? Om ob a dpfferwbt apaprntnent amd om sake fpr no pw. Male a nrw blos. Amsnwe tbos adle provahgeky pleas. Amd report all pf hos posts pm mu pld be lood. Bock jom please. Om not bsdly knhiroed. Pbly mt war. Amd mu hapr. Ir cpmmwnt anput thw mpthspad wzd dfimmy byq.

Spull camt scrppl

-jdodkoe”

Looking back on it, even she wasn’t quite sure what it said. But he would know. He always seemed to know.

Sure enough, less than two minutes later, she got her reply:

“I promised I'd get you out of there doll

  He's not gonna hurt you anymore. I got him to back off. Permanently.

  Ill report it all. Especially the stuff you're in dont worry

 Glad you think im funny tho lmao”

 She smiled. He got her out of there.

 Of course he did.

 A pause.

 She could probably even venture to,,,

 She clumsily clicked on the texted reply. It brought up “Unsaved Number” (yyy-yyy-yyyy). And next to that… the call icon…

Feeling brave, she clicked it. And then tried again, because she missed. It took above seven tries but then she heard it ring.

She held it up to her ear, crossing her fingers-

"Hey, doll."

She let the breath she’d been holding out, “Hey!” She let out a relieved laugh, “Hey.”

"Good to know he actually listened to me." His voice had a tinge of relief to it. " Promised I'd get you out."

Her smile fell like a ton of bricks, “L- listened to you? You mean, when you… threatened him?”

"I let him know exactly what would happen if he didn't let you go. Still planning on killing him eventually, but he doesn't have to know that."

“It’s a good thing you didn’t get the chance- our life forces are tied. Something this tournament runner is doing. I think it’s cruel.”

" ... Shit, yeah, it is a good thing. Honestly, I don't know if I would've been able to stop myself from just taking him out the second I saw the bastard."

He paused.

"It's not just cruel, it's weird . I guess insurance to keep the couples from killing each other?"

“Maybe,” She said, cringing at the word ‘couples’. She paused, and there was a moment of silence.

“Look,” She said, “I don’t- I don’t- it’s not your fault. That I- that he- that i-” she couldn’t quite get the words out. Her brain felt like cotton. Tired, probably. The last time she’d fallen asleep had been in her apartment in the arena, “I- because you texted me, or taunted him, or because I laughed at the- the mousepad, I don’t want- it’s not-”

The words died in her brainfog.

“I’d have rathered you text me and I get hurt than you not text me and I don’t. If that makes sense.” She sounded like it didn’t, to her.

"... I missed you, too."

She inhaled sharply. And didn’t answer. For a while. Thinking.

“You know,” She said at length, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that.”

 " Hopefully I won't have to say it too much," His voice sounded playful. " Any more rescues like this, and I might have to start charging you."

The smile that had died at the beginning of the conversation returned, “What, is this too difficult for you? Sounds like a skill issue to me.”

" As if. This is just sooooo much time, and energy, and having to talk to people that drive me insane , …" He trailed off, mumbling something under his breath.

She checked the charge on her phone- 70%- and then set the potato battery aside and layed down in bed, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. She didn’t need to sleep as much as other people did, but she did still need it. Same with food, which- the thought back- gods, had the last thing she’d had to drink been swamp sauce? Embarrassing. If asked, she’d lie and say it had been something with more flavor.

“Insane, yeah?” She said with a yawn, not really expecting an answer. Just wanting to keep him talking.

" You had me talking to Sora . I swear if I hear that kid start talking about friendship one more time…"

She faintly frowned in confusion, “You were making fun of [name redacted] with Stanley and talking to Sora? At the same time?”

" No, I talked to him earlier. That's what you were saying with the emojis, right?"

She couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“Right?”

She laughed, not feeling the dread she had felt the last time the sound had escaped her lips. Struggling to speak, she said, “Darling, no , I was making fun of him. Clown shoes,” She giggled, “But I appreciate it.”

She got herself under control, “I really do. You anticipated me. The second reference- the clown shoes picture I had him send- that was ‘ Talk to Sora’ . You were ahead of the game,” She smiled, “I figured- well I don’t know much about keyblades, but they’re magic, right? And they’re keys? He was keeping the apartment door locked, I was hoping maybe he could use it to let me out. Is that something he could do? Do keyblades do that? What even is a keyblade? Where are you from? I’ve never seen a demigod that could teleport before.”

" Demigod? I'm not- What are you talking about? " He paused again. " I can't tell you all that. Not yet. But I can tell you that the keyblade would've been able to open the door, yeah. … You know I have one too, though, right? I could've just done that myself."

Another pause.

" 'Darling', huh?" She could hear the shit eating grin in his voice. " Keep callin' me that and I might just let this slide."

“How was I supposed to know you have a keyblade? You never use it,” She said, remembering returning his arrowguns (and then her pointing one of those guns at him because she thought he was [name redacted] [what she wouldn’t do for an arrowgun]), “And you only mentioned it in relation to Sora- if you have a keyblade, why did you need me to return the-?”

" Honestly? Arrowguns are more fun for me. … Also I don't need the Master's disembodied eye watching my every move, but… that's a story for another time."

“ Master? ” She asked, instantly worried, “Like-” She paused in confusion. She was too tired and hungry for this, “Is this someone you need taken care of? The kins, they could-”

" Relax. It's not like that. It's mostly classified information, but the most I can say is he's kind of my teacher. Or at least, he was. For now it's a sort of gray area."

“I know about gray areas,” She muttered, rubbing the bruise on her shoulder, “How- if- Sora has one, is the Master watching him? Or?”

" No, he can only see through the keyblades with his eyeball implanted in them. It's gross. I've always thought it was gross. I don't want to carry around someone else's eyeball."

She idly thought of his eyepatch, and the scar. She was silent for a while. She could hear the faint sound of his breathing through the other end of the line.

“As long as you’re safe,” she yawned again, “Anyway-” She frowned, trying to think back- “Oh, right,” She said tiredly, “Demigod. You’re a Janus kid, right? You have-” (yawn) “-you have that vibe.”

" I have no idea what you're talking about, doll. Maybe you should get some sleep."

“Oh come on,” She muttered, “You’re all about doors, and- and-” she yawned “And you can go through them. ”

" That is how doors work, yeah."

She giggled, “I can’t explain it right now… you know Percy and water?”

"... No? Did you take the swamp sauce with you or something-"

“You don’t know about Water Boy? Mr. Hurricane? Blew up Mt. St. Helens? Mr. Turned down Immortality? Mr. Walked Through Hell?”

A pause.

“Why did you think I needed Annabeth as leverage? I couldn’t handle Percy on my own,” She yawned, “He could beat me even with the force field nerf.”

A pause.

“He’s a son of Poseidon? Water go brr?”

" ... I'm starting to think I should've taken his threats more seriously."

She let out a laugh, “No, no, it’s all part of the bluff. Act more powerful than you are and he’ll believe it,” she smiled, “That’s what i’m doing with the- with the theatrics! The forcefield, the army, the- the you - you know, my mother, Aphrodite-”

“ What?”

A pause, “Xigbar, I thought you looked up my name.”

" I looked up his . Found yours by mistake. … That reminds me, I said the next time we talked I'd tell you something. My name – it's Braig."

“Braig,” She said, trying out the way it sounded, really stretching it out, “Braig. [OMITTED LAYER 2]. Braig. Are you scottish?”

" Italian, I think."

“Hm,” She said, and then repeated quietly, “ Braig. ”

A pause.

“Wait.”

A pause.

“Hold on.”

She was holding back a laugh now.

“Wait wait wait. Did you rearrange your name and then stick an ‘X’ in there? For what, fun? Spice?”

" As if. I didn't have anything to do with that development. Something my old boss did. Stupid loyalty thing. It really just gave him a way to track everyone. … Don't worry, he's been dead a while now."

A pause.

“What name should I use? For you?”

" I don't mind either. Just- Keep to Xigbar around the others."

“Okay. Okay.”

Pause.

“Braig, were you in a cult?”

" Pretty much. That's where I got the coat- Everyone wore one. I was there for like, 12 years."

She was silent for a moment.

“12 years is a long time.”

" I guess when you're thinking about it in the present. In the grand scheme of things, it's not that long. Been alive way longer."

“Got a number?”

" Lost track after a few hundred years. I don't know. Maybe around 2,000 ish? If I had to ballpark it? Old enough."

“Brave of you to keep track that long,” Her smile turned into a yawn, “I lost track after, what, 50? Add 20 to that, then add the rise and fall of Rome, then the dark ages, and then that thing with the- with the boats? When they found the- the “new world”- not new, but you get it. Then tack on, what, 600? I don’t know why i’m trying to do math. I’m like 2,000, too. Ish.”

"... You aged a lot better than I did."

She let out another laugh, “You try being carved by someone who doesn’t want you to age,” Then realizing that got dark, she pivoted, “I think you look good.”

" You do, huh?" He chuckled a bit. " Good to know, doll."

“What were we talking about? Before age? Oh, demigods. My mother- ‘’’’’’’’mother’’’’’’’’,” She said, and you could hear every quote, “She didn’t even give me any powers? Rude, right?”

" I know what you mean. I had to get what I do on my own."

She yawned, “I mean- like- you know how I just described Percy? Mother fuck he got powers. Like the only thing he can’t do is, like, keep his footing? Fuck’s up with that? I don’t even have charmspeak. Charmspeak . Even Percy thinks I should have charmspeak, he accused me of using it on Stanley.”

" I don't know what charmspeak is."

“Imagine, if, like, you wanted some kind of thing, yeah? And you went up, and you said ‘Hey, you want to give me that so bad you look stupid’, and it, like, worked? But then it wore off. I don’t even have charmspeak. Do you know how easily i could have gotten away from [name redacted] if I had charmspeak? ‘ Hey, kill yourself’ and boom! I’m free. But nooo , little [LAYER2] was made to be one thing and one thing only, a [censored], and let me tell you, when he started getting old- like not you old, you’re fine, and you will continue to be fine, but- he sent you a picture, yeah? He aged backwards since i last saw him, last i saw him he was, like, fuck, 90? And he was all like grab grab and i was like ‘kill yourself’ but I Don’t Have Charmspeak! It’s not that hard! Just- I mean, she brought me to life , i was a statue, she can bestow that miracle and- fuck, i don’t know, whatever else, but I don’t get the power of Extra Pretty Please?”

A pause.

“You know what? Now that i’m thinking about it, I think I only said yes to Stanley and Cesare asking please because I’m salty. Team ‘They Said Please’ what about I Say Please? Do I Not Get To Say Please? If I can’t give them charmspeak the least I can do is say yes when they ask not to die ,” She rolled her eyes, “even, like, Annabeth- Athena doesn’t give her kids, like, powers powers, but Annabeth can still, like, weave really good and survive trudging through Tartarus . I’m over here, fuckin, I don’t know, Pleaseless . Fuck.”

She stretched out on the bed with a yawn, “Is that too much to ask?”

"... It worked on me ."

“Hey, now, don’t say that. No magic involved, I don’t have it. Fucks that quote?- ‘ Yet, by your gracious patience, I will a round unvarnished tale deliver- of my whole course of love: what drugs? What charms? What conjuration? And what mighty magic? For such proceeding I am charged withal- I won his- fuck, Xigbar, I guess. Hey, that even fits with the meter. Anyway don’t worry I didn’t use the magic I don’t have on you, alright?”

" That's not what I meant, doll."

Her brain felt like cotton, and she frowned, “...fuck were we talking about?”

" Go to sleep already," he laughed. "You sound half dead."

“If you- don’t you dare hang up the phone or i’ll say please myself out of the window,” She yawned. And paused. “Stay on the line with me? And then maybe if he comes in, if you hear him, you can yell in my ear real loud and I can fight him off? Or we could just hang out. On the phone i mean. Not me and [nickname redacted], obviously, that’s so dumb-”

Xigbar laughed, “ [nickname redacted]? Like the animal?”

“He is one!” She said, “He is one. You should hear him when he-” A pause “-nevermind. Stay on the line? You can go to bed, too, just keep the call open? Please?”

" Okay, doll. Promise."

“Okay. Okay,” She was surprised at how calm she was. Not 30 minutes ago she was cowering for her life. “Okay,” She yawned, “Okay.”

“Having fun with that word?”

“Silence, goon.”

He laughed, and she stretched out to go to sleep.

Safe. She was safe.

### Firestar

Mare was sitting against a wall inside the cabin and playing around with the little he had of his powers by summoning tiny creatures. A pale pink butterfly fluttered around in the air before him and landed on his hand, and turned into a tiny, iridescent snake that wriggled itself around his fingers, and then turned into a shiny, bronze sparrow that flew in a small circle before landing onto the floor and jumping around. He was about to call it back when out of nowhere, the resident orange cat, Firestar, pounced onto the bird and caught it.

Mare giggled, and got an idea. He dispelled the sparrow while it was still in Firestar’s paws, causing the cat to jump back and start looking around in confusion. He then summoned a glittery, golden mouse and set it loose on the floor of the cabin.

The mouse first ran straight past Firestar, getting his attention, and then, just as Mare had hoped, he began following it. The mouse flitted around on the floor with unnatural speed, and the cat quickly had to start running just to avoid losing track of it. The mouse wove between people’s legs, causing Firestar to trip some people up. They climbed onto the dining table and almost stepped in someone’s food.

When they got close to the conversation pit, Mare, now giggling incessantly, dispelled the mouse. Firestar was once again so surprised by the disappearing prey that he tripped and rolled right into the pit, landing in Arthur Lesters lap.

“Ah! Woah! What's that?” the man shouted and reached his hand down towards Firestar, but the cat wriggled off of him, jumped back out of the pit, and ran off somewhere Mare couldn’t see.

He felt a bit bad for having subjected the poor cat to this, as well as the people who got disturbed, but it had also been very funny. He’d be remembering that cartoonish roll at the end for a while.

### Artemis

Artemis, Carter, Sadie, and Dipper were all gathered around a table, talking to each other over a collection of papers. Mare approached them quietly. He heard them talking about a tie and a… doll? He was about to interrupt them when Artemis beat him to it.

“Is there something you want?”

Mare was a bit taken aback, both because Artemis had looked focused on the conversation, and also by his intense stare. That explained why he seemed to be the leader, or at least the tactician, of the little hero group. He wondered what the dreams of a human like him were like. Speaking of…

“Are you planning to break back into the Showrunners’s building?” Mare asked.

“Maybe, although that is not our main focus for the moment,” Artemis answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’ve lost something, and I can’t find it in or around the cabin. And I think if the guards found it they would probably bring it to the main building for safekeeping. So I was wondering, if you go back there, and have the time, if you could look for it for me.”

Artemis’s expression changed a bit. It was like he was studying Mare now.

“What sort of item did you lose? And why do you think they would take it there?”

“It’s a key. And uh, I don’t know how much the Showrunner and her guards know about me, but taking it away does limit my powers. And it’s made from enchanted gold so they could just have thought it was valuable too.”

“Interesting,” Artemis said. “What can this key of yours do?”

Mare recognized that greedy glint he saw in his eyes.

“Only I can use it,” he said sharply, staring him down just to shut down any potential selfish ideas in his head.

“If it’s important to you-,” Carter spoke up. “-I’m sure Team Litvrage can keep an eye out for it. What does it look like?”

The dapper duo broke off their impromptu staring contest. Mare smiled relieved at Carter.

“Thank you so much! It looks like… um…” He looked at the papers on the table. “Can I draw it out for you?”

“Know yourself out,” Sadie said and shoved a pen and a blank page over to him.

Mare drew out a 1:1 picture of his key, and showed it to the others.

“It’s gold and glows in the dark, and it’s usually on a leather cord. I don’t know if it’ll still be when it’s found, though.”

“If we do attempt to sneak back into the main building, we can try and look for it,” Artemis said. “ And if we do find it, we will bring it directly back to you.”

“Thank you,” Mare said, smiling gently. Artemis nodded in return.

“I can’t promise we will be able to look for it though. I hope you understand that.”

“Yeah, that’s ok. I just wanted to ask. As long as you find a way to fix all of this, that’s the most important thing.”

As Mare walked off, the four kids all looked back down at the papers filled with plans and ideas, and thought of their respective loved ones.

Of course that was the most important thing.

### Hiccup

Mare was once again playing around with his powers, this time sitting out of the porch after an early morning grooming session with Blackjack. A small, silvery serpent with tiny legs and feathered wings flew around him in small formations, when someone spoke up behind him.

“Is that a dragon?”

He turned and saw a teenager with brown hair and very, very old-timey (maybe medieval? viking age?) clothes exiting the cabin. He thought he’d heard that boy’s name at some point, but couldn’t remember it. Still, he smiled at him.

“It is. It’s a miniature silver dragon.” Mare held his hand out and the dragon came and landed on it, then he held his hand up towards the boy. “Do you want to say hi to her?”

“Oh, yes, I’d love to,” the boy said, shuffling a bit like he tried to hide his excitement. He sat down next to Mare on the porch and held his hand out for the dragon to sniff.

“Hey there, lil buddy,” he said while the dragon smelled him, and it quickly moved onto his hand entirely.

“She likes you,” Mare told him.

The boy chuckled a bit awkwardly.

“Yeah, dragons do seem to like me a lot.”

Mare perked up.

“You have dragons where you come from?”

“Yeah, tons of them. Everything from giant Timberjacks that can cut down forest, Monstrous Nightmares that set themselves on fire, and tiny Terrible Terrors that will steal your food if you don’t look after it.”

“Monstrous Nightmare? Terrible Terror? That sure is an interesting naming scheme you have,” Mare noted.

“Yeah, well.” Dragon boy shrugged. “They were named before we figured out how to get along with them. I’ve never seen a Silver Dragon before, though.”

The dragon in question was now climbing around on his vest, sniffing at the sheep skin it was made of.

“The silver dragons mostly only exist in the Dream Domain, where I’m from,” Mare explained. “They’re also a lot bigger, big enough to ride on, but sadly I can’t summon one of the proper size as long as I’m in here.”

Mare took his hat off. The small dragon flew over and curled up inside of it.

“Huh. Wait, you ride dragons too where you’re from?” the boy asked.

“Mostly just my sister and I,” Mare answered. “But I love it! It’s one of my favorite things.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I love riding around on Toothless more than anything! We’ve got tons of races with my friends and their dragons, and we’ve even started to work on this whole game that we want to introduce to the island.” He was gesturing with his hands now while he talked.

“That sounds amazing!” Mare told him, getting excited too.

“It is! If you want to, you can come visit us then we can race together. You could bring your own dragon or we can find one for you. Oh.” He stopped for a moment. “I uh, I don’t think I ever got your name?”

“It’s Mare,” Mare told him. “What’s yours?”

“I’m Hiccup.”

They spent the rest of that morning talking about dragons together until the sun was high in the sky. Hiccup would describe the various dragons back on Berk and the dreams he’d had about them while he’s been here, and Mare would try to summon those out into the real world to get a look at them himself. It mostly didn’t work, but he got some smaller images of the dragons out, one of which nearly spooked Blackjack and Mare had to apologize to him. The dragons were amazing to see, and Mare hoped that one day, he would get to see them all in person.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 14

Xigbar was sitting on the wreckage of the couch, shaking the snowglobe and scrolling tumblr. He’d just got an ask:

“O dpnt we ant tp leabr me rppm therews pufmakipn putwthwye,,, bot caspiel,,,, wken ipo het har w up ll upu vpme wpth mw tp mwwt castiwl. Ypu cpuld koxk pugs ass woth np hamds eben,,,,, ib himgtu,. Cam o call upu? Sndeour pn the pjpne tp ywll pf spmeone talks to mw? O wmt tl flnd fppd. 🥕--- of cassoel wad a vegablee”

He took a moment to decipher it. She didn’t want to leave the room because her shitty ex was out there. She wanted to, though, to see Castiel- the gay angel from that tv show Xigbar didn’t like to admit he’d watched. She wanted him to come with her to meet Castiel- yeah, okay, doll, sure. She thought Xigbar could kick her ex’s ass with No Hands, Even. She wanted to call him, something something, Castiel as a vegetable. He didn’t understand that, but sure.

He texted her:

“Knock yourself out lol

Why would he be a carrot tho”

A few moments later, he got a call.

"Hey, doll. Make it through the night?"

He heard giggling over the phone.

“Doll?”

“Holy fuck he is outside of my window. He-” She gave a little shriek, then burst into laughter. He could hear her clinking around the room, “Braig, I actually heard him! He said ‘Dean!’” On ‘Dean’, she did an impression of Castiel’s voice.

“Wait- fuck! Dean’s there too! Holy shit! They’re fighting to the death outside my window! Not against each other, against- well i don’t recognise any of them-” She giggled, “Holy shit!”

"Oh my god." Xigbar laughed. "I have never heard this side of you before- It's cute."

“He just killed someone with his angel blade!! Oh, there’s blood-” She sounded like a child who’d just discovered a gross but fascinating bug, “Braig, there’s blood on him-”

"Damn, never this excited when I have blood on me." A joke. Definitely not rooted in anything. No underlying feelings whatsoever. No feelings at all.

“I’ve never seen blood on you,” She said like she wasn’t really paying attention, “Besides, there’s Castiel outside my window killing people. Anyway. Anyway. He’s in the early seasons trenchcoat- the good one, not the ugly one- anyway. Anyway. I called you for a reason. I don’t remember the reason.”

He heard a clink like her head had bonked against the window.

"You wanted to get food."

“Oh, right,” She said, “Right. You know, this sucks because I don’t even have my heels? I used to be able to take them off and stab with them, maybe, but they’re gone, along with your cult coat, and all of my clothes.” He heard her footsteps as she started to walk somewhere.

"It's not a cult." Maybe for some of the others, it was. The ones who dedicated themselves so hard to it they lost sight of everything else (coughcoughxaldincough), but not for him. Xigbar knew what it was really for. Not to mention. He knew what he was really for. The organization was inconsequential, especially once some people started knowing more than they ought've. "You're a cult."

“No,” She said, and he heard cloth rustling, “You can’t be a one person cult. Besides, I asked you if you were in a cult and you said yes. No take backsies.”

"I didn't say yes, I said pretty much." He snickered. "It was a cult for some of the others. Not me. I'm too cool."

“Yeah, okay,” She said, “Give me a second, I need to tie something-” He heard a whoosh and then gentle thud, like the phone had been tossed onto the bed.

“Can you still hear me?” She called.

"Yeah, you're good. Did you just throw me?"

“Yeah,” She said, and he heard a sound like… Rope?

“What is that noise?”

“Hey, have you seen The Little Mermaid? You know that scene where Ariel is putting on that, like, sail? She sucks at it? I feel like that, I haven’t tied a chiton in eons.”

"Ariel-? Like. That mermaid princess chick? Yeah I don't go to Atlantica- too much singing. Also I'd rather not be technically naked in public."

He heard the rope sound stop, and then at length, resume, “Do you mean- I’ve never heard of Atlantica, is that some- is that in Poseidon’s domain? I was talking about the movie of the same name.”

"Oh." Weird. There were way too many similarities to be a coincidence, but Xigbar didn't question it. He'd inevitably find out sooner or later. "Guess I haven't seen it. You should show me sometime."

“Oh, I’d love to,” She said, “I love kids movies-” She heard her clink back over to the phone, and her voice became much less faint, “I like that one because she was able to, like, make a choice-” He could imagine her talking with her hands, gesturing, “and it totally paid off. Then her boyfriend fucking murdered someone, it was great.”

"Is that a hint?" Laugh. It's a joke. Joke.

“It’s certainly a pattern,” She said absentmindedly, “I can't think of any other movies where the guy does that, not Disney movies anyway.”

Wait.

Wait.

What the fuck.

"Doll- Did you just say 'Disney'?"

“It's the name of a production company, yeah. They retell public domain fairy tales and then gatekeep the copyright forever. It’s reprehensible, but I like the movies unfortunately.”

"Disney," He said slowly. "Let me ask you this- does the name 'Mickey Mouse' mean anything to you?"

“You sound upset?”

"I'm not- I'm just trying to figure something out. Indulge me."

“Well, alright. Yeah,” She said, and he heard a strange scraping noise, “Oh, hold on, I need to push this.”

A pause followed in which he heard the scraping noise and some sounds of effort from Showie. He then heard keys jingle and a door open.

“But yeah, Mickey Mouse. The- the ‘Hey, fellas! Ha-HA!’ mouse. He’s their mascot? May or may not live in a clubhouse? Not clear on the lore.”

Holy. Shit.

"Holy. Shit." Xigbar blinked. "So… I think we're talking about the same thing. Only, with where you're from, none of it is real."

She was silent for a few moments. He heard her clink down what sounded like a hallway.

“Are-” She paused, “Oh, no, have you been ‘French Mistake’d?”

"... What the hell are you saying-" The only context he'd ever heard that phrase was to mean gay. What the hell, Showie. He was bisexual, thank you.

“It’s a supernatural episode,” She explained, her voice dropping, “Hold on, I’m coming around a corner, I don’t like corners-”

A pause.

“Okay, we’re good. It’s a supernatural episode, where- I don’t exactly remember how it goes, but Dean and Sam, they get sucked through this kind of portal, and they’re brought to the real world, where everything is a tv show? And they need to figure out how to get back. Misha Collins dies. It’s a whole thing.”

"Uh. No. What I'm saying is, I think our worlds operate on two very different sets of rules. That mouse killed one of my old coworkers once. He's fine now. Less of a bitch, actually."

“Interesting,” She said. And then, “I think I’m in some kind of lobby,” She paused, “I must admit, the idea of Mickey Mouse killing anyone is amusing to me. Sorry for your loss, though, if you liked that guy.”

"Xaldin? As if. He sucked. Had a weird obsession with The Beast."

“Hey, now, furries are people, too, Xigbar,” She said, sounding like she was joking. Then she paused, “You know, come to think of it, the way you described Sora? He’s from the same place as you, yes? Generally speaking?”

"Generally speaking, yeah. Not the same world, specifically, but close enough that they go by the same rules."

“Well, you said clown shoes? That’s very Disney Animation Studios. But, Xigbar,” She said thoughtfully, “You don’t look like a Disney character at all.”

A pause.

“That’s a good thing, by the way.”

A pause.

“Where the hell is this kitchen?”

A pause.

“I mean, I guess Eric is okay. He’s the one that fucking murdered someone.”

"If you like murder so much, why did you tell me to stop?" He snickered at that. It actually was a joke. For realsies.

“Well, because- well, Luke is one thing, even though he was right, but- what if Prosper got in the way? Or Artemis? Or Firestar, he’s very nosy. I didn’t know you well enough to trust you to use discretion.”

A pause.

“Disney doesn’t do anime, does it?”

"I don't? I don't know? The closest world I can think of to anime is- I dunno, San Fransokyo? But I don't th-"

“Oh, from Big Hero Six?” She sounded delighted.

"Probably? I have no reference for this."

“We need to watch through their filmography,” He could hear her smile, “It would be so fun.” A pause, “Anyway, I ask because you don’t look like a Disney character, but I could see you in an anime. Do you think we could find you? Do you think there’s a movie equivalent of wherever you’re from?”

"Aughhhhhhhhhh," he groaned. Not again with this. "I am not doing this again. First Stanley, now you. He kept talking about how I'm a 'video game' when I'm NOT, and then got super weird about it- I don't know why you even like that guy."

When she spoke again, she sounded a lot less delighted, “Well, Xigbar, you know about [name redacted] now, don’t you? What did you think the deal with Stanley and the Narrator was?”

Ah, shit.

Touched a nerve.

Xigbar almost wanted to bust out the same hat card, but… No. He couldn't. Even if he could, it would just sound petty and jealous right now.

Because he definitely wasn't.

"That's not what I meant, Showie."

A pause.

“Are you mad at me?” She sounded anxious.

"What? No, I'm not mad at you. I literally can't even be mad. Why do you think I'm mad at you?"

She was quiet, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just on edge from everything. A-anyway, Xigbar, I’m just- I’m trying to help him. You- you know, no one got me out? I- I had to wait until he-” She paused, and he imagined she was looking around. She resumed, quieter, “I had to wait until he was too weak to stop me from running. And then I had to go to Hecate to get the damned charm removed- my ‘mother’, she spelled me to love him, which I suspect is what’s going on with Stanley, poor thing, and- and even then, Xigbar, the charm had a cost. Removing it, I mean. I- she made me fully human, did you know that? Aphrodite? To remove it, I had to give some of that up. That’s why I’m- you know. Like this.”

A pause.

“There’s the kitchen,” She sighed in relief, “I thought I’d never find it. But that’s part of it, too, you know? Nothing really tastes like it did in the- before I ran.”

"So that's why you were drinking hot sauce." Yes, he saw it. No, he probably shouldn't have.

“Yeah,” She said, apparently not picking up on the strangeness of that, “You would, too, if you were me,” he heard the sound of a fridge opening, “But- but- I’m just trying to help Stanley. Because, knowing what I do now about- about his will, I don’t think he even could run like I did, if he wanted to, I want to give him a chance. And I don’t think you’re a video game character. I think they put you in a video game. There’s a difference.”

Fuck.

He didn't know all that. If he had, he'd probably have- No. What's done is done. He couldn't linger on it. He did what he had to do. This was the only way to keep her safe.

Shit- he was silent too long. Play. It. Off.

"Well, that's better than being accused of being biased towards video game people."

She said, “Is that what he thought?”

"Yeah. Got real pissy about it, too." Xigbar almost laughed at the memory of Stanley's expression. "He really thought that was the reason I'm a dick to him."

“You’re a dick to him?”

"... Doll, you realize you're the only one I'm not a dick to, right?"

Silence. Which was different from a pause.

It went on longer than Xigbar would have liked.

“You know, there’s no hot sauce here? Guess I’ll be choking down flavorless mush, then. There is orange juice though, which I can’t taste but am nostalgic for. That’s nice. Do you think I could get away with taking this back to my room? Or would someone be upset with me?”

Subject change. Okay. He could work with this.

"What, afraid you'll piss off Castiel?" He teased. Go back to normal, Xigbar.

“Castiel doesn’t need to eat,” She said, “I can’t believe there’s no-” She paused, “Oh, well, I’ll just take this and head back to my apartment!” Her voice sounded light. Too light. Forced.

He heard her tink down the hall, moving quickly, “Do you know many Disney characters? I mean, you must, but any in particular? I mean, anyone interesting? I mean, anyone amusing? Like silly.”

"Eh, not particularly. I don't hang out with a lot of people, y'know. I've ran into that goat guy a couple times- The one that hangs out with Hercules."

“Oh, a satyr, fun!” She said, “I haven’t seen the movie, bit too close to home for me, haha! Besides, Hercules was a dick, he was the worst,” She tittered, “You know who a real hero is? Atalanta. She’s the best. Do you want to know about Atalanta?”

"Sure. Shoot."

“Well, her parents abandoned her as soon as she was born, because they wanted a boy! But then Artemis- the goddess, one of the best, I must say- she took pity on her, and Atalanta was raised by a bear! And she was a badass! And she killed this huge boar! And she traveled with the argonauts and everything, and she-” Showie’s voice was coming in gasps. He heard keys jingle, and then the sound of a door slamming and being locked.

“Give me a moment, I need to push this!” She said, and he heard that same scraping noise.

“Anyway, eventually, she was told by the oracle, much later, that she needed to marry! It was the gods’ decree! Isn’t that something? So she organized a footrace, and gave the suitors a head start, and if she caught them, she killed him! Over! And over! And over! Until eventually, she found one guy, who treated her with respect, so she didn’t murder him, but then later, they got turned into lions! As a punishment! Ha! Ha!”

That sounded like the laugh of someone on the verge of losing it. Not in a good way.

“Hey, doll-”

“Xigbar Did You Use Stanley’s Will Against Him On Purpose?”

"No- I didn't realize I had used it against him at all." He was lying through his teeth, of course. But when you spend thousands of years doing nothing but lying… it becomes as natural as breathing.

A pause. He could hear her breathing.

“That’s good. That’s good. Because, well, because, well, because, you know, [name omitted], he- he used to be able to- well, and I’m kind of- you- he could, like, get me to do things? Isn’t that funny? Isn’t that- but you see- you wouldn’t, right?”

"Jesus- Of course I wouldn't! I know I'm a dick but- Come on. I'm not him. I'll never be him."

A pause. Heavy breathing.

“You know, the last time I felt this way.”

“What, panicked?”

“No.” A pause, “No,” and then a lighter tone, “No! All good! Look, Castiel outside my window!”

A pause.

“You want to know the truth, Xigbar?”

“... Sure.”

“The- the truth- I- i saw [name redacted] in the hallway, and that is why i’m like this, actually, and everything is fine, and forget I said anything, I don’t care anymore!” She laughed, “Everything is fine! Is Scooby Doo a Disney Property, or no. No, right? I didn’t think so. Which one of the princes is the biggest asshole. I bet its Naveen. Do you know Naveen?” The words came out like a freight train, and he was a little late in answering- he didn’t want to interrupt her in case she was just stopping for a breath.

“Do you?” She asked.

“Uh- no-”

“We’ll need to watch it!”

“Alright, Doll, we can watch it when I get there, okay? You like popcorn?”

“Um. Not really! No flavor! The crunch is nice, though! What do you do for fun?”

“Doll-”

“Yeah?”

“H- he can’t get you, you know that? You saw him in the hall, sure, but he can’t get you anymore. I took care of that.”

She took a shaky breath. Then another. Then another.

Oh, she was crying.

“Showie-”

He heard a thunk as she… did… something. He couldn’t tell over the phone.

“W- what can I- do from here?”

A shaky laugh, “Oh, I’m alright, I’m just going through it right now. You know how it is. Or do you.”

"... You know that thing you've got with Stanley?"

“Boy, do I!” She said.

This was going to be hard. He'd never said any of this out loud before.

Barely ever even admitted half of it to himself.

"I… Kinda have something similar going on. The teacher I told you about– I was only useful for one thing. He only wanted me for one job. That's it. I do the job and then… I dunno, die, I guess. Didn't want to, still kinda don't, but what was I supposed to do? Couldn't say no; there was nothing else for me. I didn't even have a name.

And here we are, way later, and I'm still doing his dirty work. Just can't seem to escape it– gotta see it through to the end. Wasn't even supposed to make myself… me. But I did. Who knows what'll happen when he finds out." He was the one to pause this time. For a breath. "Probably won't be good. … I can handle it." It felt like a lie. It was a lie. Truth was, he was still scared of him.

She was silent for a while.

Then, “Y- you can stop. You don’t have to see it through to the end. You could come with me. You- you don’t need to handle it, you could come with me.”

"... Nah. I can't." He wished he had a smoke right now. "He's still watching me. And on top of that… He'll end up coming back one way or another. Things'll be worse if I don't fulfill my role."

“Braig, the amount of times I’ve said the same exact thing. Every night. But it’s not- it’s not true, you don’t need to- I- what, the keyblade? With his eye? That he’s watching you through? We can- we can get rid of it! We can- you can always stop- if- if you need hidden, we can- Hecate, she could-”

"It's not like that, doll." Xigbar's- No, Luxu's voice turned somber. More than it had in a long, long time. "Trust me. The eye in the keyblade ties back to the past; he's already seen everything I do. Everything the keyblade sees, he's seen. Wrote it all down in a big book thousands of years ago. Might as well just get it all over with instead of trying to fight it."

Silence.

“No,” She said, sounding desperate, “No, if- something I used to- used to tell myself, when I was trying to convince myself to- to- to run, If- if there’s even a- if there’s even a chance, even a chance it could get better, you should try. I can- I can help you. Let me help you.”

"I have tried. That's what being Bragi was. That's what being Braig was… at first. It always comes back to haunt me."

Silence. He got the sense she was trying to find the words to convince him. Maybe praying for charmspeak.

“I- I- try again with me? With me? We can- we can- you know, I wasn’t given a name, either? He didn’t give me one. The townspeople assigned me one, in between not listening to me and telling me what a nice guy he was. You know what my name means?”

"... What?"

“White As Milk. Just that. Like, ‘oh, who are you’, I’m the pale little statue lady with no name. It’s like being called, like, blondie, and that’s your name? Uh. we could both pick new names. And try again. And go somewhere. It’s possible. We could. Uh. We could.” He heard a little gasp. Crying again.

"... Showie. Doll. I know what you're trying to do here. I appreciate it. I do. But… This just isn't something I can run from. But it won't go on much longer. My role will be done soon enough. The hard part's over."

“That sounds so fucking sinister. Then what?”

"Then… Hopefully, I can just do whatever the hell I want. He'll probably want me to do something else, but… Now I have a reason to say no."

Silence. Then more silence.

She said, “I wish I was there with you.”

"If you were, I probably wouldn't have had the guts to say all that," he laughed softly. "... I do, too."

Silence.

“Braig,” She said, “I trust you.”

A pause.

“I don’t know what you did to get me out of there, and you don’t have to tell me, okay?”

"Just…" A breath. "... Remember I always have a plan. No matter what happens."

She let out a breath, “That’s what I was going to ask. Whatever it is, just- promise we can undo it? You- you have a plan.”

"I can get us out of it. Nothing is set in stone… except maybe your face." A joke. Hopefully enough to lighten the very heavy mood.

“I’m made of teeth, silly, [material redacted] is teeth.” he could hear a smile. Thank god.

"Yeah, well, teeth are just. Mouth stones."

She laughed, only slightly.

Some time went by in silence.

“And then we’ll kill him, right Braig? We?”

"We." He chuckled a bit and leaned back on a piece of broken couch. "If you want, I'll even let you use an arrowgun. Shoot him right in the face."

“I was thinking of aiming for a different head, but sure,” She said with a faint laugh. Then it died.

“You promise you have a plan? I- I’ll stand by for- for anything, okay? If you have a plan? Do what you have to do? But there’s a- you swear?”

"I'm working on the finer details of it, but yes. I promise there is a plan. The immediate part of it is all thought of and worked out. It's just what comes after that's not entirely done."

“You can work it out with me, you know that? You- you- you- you know that?”

“Thanks, doll, but it’s fine.”

“No, really. Talk to me. If you want. You can.”

…Was he actually going to do this?

"... Just. Hear me out. This is going to sound terrible, but I have a plan." He took a second to breathe again. What was it with Showie and making him spill his guts like this? "I… I made a deal with him. In exchange for freeing you I'd- get him alone with Stanley. He knew about the will thing. BUT. It won't be for long. As soon as the first possible opportunity arises, he's getting out. Even if I have to let out the Narrator guy to use whatever power he has to do it. It's not permanent. I'm not leaving him there."

Silence. Like, silence silence.

“...gods,” she said, “oh, gods. I-” Her voice got louder, he heard her get to her feet, her breath started coming in pants- “Y- your plan- is to- is to give willless Stanley to [name redacted] and then let out the narrator to clean up the mess? Am I understanding? Braig?”

"The Narrator is only a worst case scenario. I'm going to try to fix it myself." Another breath. "I don't want to do this, Showie. I'm a bad person, yeah, but I'm not a monster."

“I- i know you’re not a monster!” She said, “I- I just think this is a- a bad idea. Oh… oh- Hey, hey,” She said, like she was trying to calm down a spooked horse, “Idea. Idea. Ready? For my idea? Braig?”

 "... Go ahead."

“Does he- does he know what Stanley looks like? Does he?”

 "No, but he knows what I look like, if that's what you're suggesting. He saw the bikini photo."

“No! No! No, I would never, I don’t want you in there, I would never ask you to- that would solve nothing,” She sounded panicked, “No!”

 "It could work if he didn't know me. I'm not opposed to the idea. The second you two were out of there, I could just shoot him and be done with it. Won't work like that, though."

“That’s not my idea. I don’t want to put you in danger like that. No, no, I was- oh, but my idea sucks, too! Hold on. New idea. New idea. Gimme a second to come up with a new idea. New idea.”

Pause.

“Um. We could- Agh! But no!” he heard a clink as she dropped her head into her hands, “No, that won’t work. That’s no better than what my mother did.”

 "I don't think there's another way, Showie. If there was, I would've gone for that a long time ago. I just… I couldn't leave you in there."

“Oh, Braig, this is a mess-” She sounded hopeless. Then, “Do you have a timeline? When would- as soon as he got here? Or would I have some time to- to try to- to try to, like, fortify? Him? Against some commands?”

"It'll be whenever I can get in there. So… At least a day after he gets there, give or take. You can't tell him about this. The less he knows, the better."

“I know, I know, I- I still have to- I could try to- like, damage control, like, patching up cracks before the house falls down, I could, I don’t know, give him something to hold onto. I- do you think that would work? Braig, I’m going to ask you again, did you give him any commands on purpose?”

 "... Once. To stop him from breaking the snowglobe."

“Just once? Or more than once, and you’re scared I won’t like you anymore if you tell the truth? Because it’s- I won’t, okay? Damage control mode, okay? Just tell me.”

"Just that. Anything else I could've given him was unintentional."

“Going once. Going twice? Last chance. I swear on the styx, Braig, just please.”

"I made him tell me what was going on with his will after I told him to leave the snowglobe alone, and told him not to tell you what I said. But that's it. Really." He left out what he'd been planning on doing. Clearly that was out the window now, anyway. You can't unspill beans. "I didn't- I didn't know things were like that."

“Okay. okay. Thank you,” Her voice sounded relieved. “Um. Um. Do you think there’s a way to do it subtly? I- I think it’s best if he doesn’t know I know I’m doing it. When he gets here.”

"I'm not sure. I haven't done any experimenting with it." Leaving the implication that Xigbar wanted to. Because he did. Still does. It had been a long time since he'd done any unethical science.

“Okay,” She said, “okay. While he- while he’s there with you- gods, I can’t believe I’m asking this. Braig,” she took several deep breaths, “D- be- Don’t try to hurt him, okay? Don’t- don’t be cruel, don’t, like- I need you to try to- gods…”

"I'm not. I'm not. And- I'm not sending him out there with nothing. Gave him a gun and taught him how to use it."

“Thank you, I appreciate that, but…” he heard a sound like a bowling ball hitting a wall, “I need to- I need to know how it works. I need to know what things count as commands. I- I need you to be, like, use discretion, but- I need you to test some things out. On Stanley. Never tell him I’m telling you to do this. Don’t tell anyone. I’m just trying to- to get information, to better protect him-”

"You're sure you want me to do this? There's not really. Take backs with something like this."

Silence.

She said, “You- I- I just need to know. Be- like, be subtle, and, i don’t know, gentle, I guess? But try out different phrasing, for, like, innocuous things. With whatever time you have left with him there, I need you to figure out how the commands work and then report back to me,” She sounded miserable, “Don’t tell him to do anything that could make him more vulnerable to [name redacted]. Um. K- keep a list of what you say? Be very intentional with phrasing? Do you understand?”

"Yeah. Yeah. I can do that. … Not the worst unethical science experiment I've ever done."

“Not the-” A pause, “Nothing, like- Oh, i’m sorry i’m even asking this, I don’t think you would, but- nothing [name redacted]-y, right?”

"No- of course not. As if. That guy's a freak. It was more of just. Human experimentation." He paused, cringing. "… Yeah, I hear how that sounds worse."

“No, no, trust me, nothing can sound worse than the first thing, okay?” He heard her take several deep breaths, “Okay. Okay. Figure out how his will works while causing as little damage as possible, okay? And then report back. Okay?”

"Yeah, okay." He took a deep breath. "This is going… A lot better than I expected."

She didn’t reply for a moment, then said, “What, did you think I’d- like, I’d hate you for it?”

"I mean… Yeah, kinda. I'm trading your life for someone that can't fight back. It's a shitty move. I had to do it, though."

“Yeah, well,” She said with a sad kind of laugh, “I’m afraid hating you is no longer an option for me.”

"Shit- Did I- Do you have-" Did he accidentally somehow fuck with her will too. What the fuck. "Are you okay?"

Another sad laugh, “No, unfortunately, I’m quite afflicted. In a way I haven’t been in a long, long while.”

Oh. Terrifying. Subject change.

"... Do you want me to bring you hot sauce- I can get the good kind-"

A less sad laugh, “Yes, please. See if the kins will give you some food court food, too. Scavenging from the communal fridge is not very fun. And- my laptop? If possible. It’d be nice to be able to type and scroll without a potato battery.”

"SO THAT'S WHAT THE POTATO BATTERY WAS FOR. I was wondering."

She laughed, this time fully genuinely, “What did you think it was for? My own little unethical experiments?”

"No fuckin' idea. I haven't seen an actual potato battery in years."

“I’m surprised I even managed to make one. Never exactly got the chance to enter a science fair. You know, on the subject of names.”

"How does a science fair relate to names, exactly?"

“In that I am changing the subject. On the subject of names, I hate mine. You listed a few earlier- how did you come up with those?”

"... I didn't. The bodies already had them."

“I see. Was that the unethical science?”

"No. But it's how I'm still alive after all this time. Technically speaking, I'm still fully mortal." Xigbar didn't bother going into detail. She already knew way more about him than anyone other than the Master. It was uncomfortable.

“Alright,” She said, “Well, that’s good. That you’re still alive.”

Silence.

“Okay,” She said, “I fortify him, the trade happens, and then what? Is that the part you don’t have planned?”

"I didn't say it isn't planned- I said the plan wasn't finished. I will admit I did just kinda jump into it- Anyway. Yeah. I'm figuring it out. So, the current options are somehow I figure out how to sever whatever bond is connecting you two and then the three of us just absolutely waste the motherfucker, or we manage to somehow bring him back to White Boy Bracket and then waste the motherfucker. Either way, he's dying."

“Hmm,” He heard a clinking noise- not like she was walking, like she was tapping on her chin or something, “I don’t know if it’s severable. There may be a forcefield nerf like I have at White Boy Bracket. Some things cannot be undone. And I don’t know if we can get him into White Boy Bracket- at least, not without risking everything. The kins, you see, they don’t- well, they think I’m [OMITTED LAYER 1], and when they find out I’m not, they won’t be happy. They’ll be furious, actually. Are you familiar with The Lion King? The one with Simba and Scar? Think what happened to Scar, with the hyenas. And [name redacted], he could just- yell out. I- I don’t think I’m willing to risk it.”

She hummed for a moment, thinking, “You- you’ve curried favor with the tournament runner of the Old Man Battle, yes? Do you think you could convince them to run a tournament both you and I and Stanley and [name redacted] could get into? One where we could safely kill him?”

Xigbar thought for a minute. "It's a possibility… i got election frauded to lose in the last round I was in before the championship, but… They did say sorry, sooooo- I can try. I've heard them in the audience here before- Maybe I can get some kind of message out."

“Hmm. How would we get them there, though? Hold a round? Don’t they only show up if you compete?”

"... Oh! Shit- They have a tumblr- I can get into contact that way. That could work."

“Do that, then. Speaking of rounds, though, Adrien Agreste- did he- is he still down there, or did he get moved to the morgue?”

“Didn’t you say there was an incinerator?”

“I was lying to scare Paul Matthews- we actually keep them in a morgue- more of a freezer, really, so I can revive them whenever. Do you know if he’s still in the spike pit?”

"Unless the Kins collect the bodies, he's still down there. Probably gross by now."

“Hmm. That won’t do,” She said, “You see, from what I could tell, he’s kind of Same-Hatting Stanley and I. And You, I suppose. Apparently, his father, like, created him, and is controlling him using a magic ring? I don’t want him dead, I want him in the cabin watching tv and eating one of the 4000 lunchables the audience sent.”

A pause.

“Braig, would you like to learn a new power?”

"That depends? Last time I had someone teach me some kind of power I lost my eye."

A pause, “Well I’m not him, okay? I’ll never be him.”

"Oh no, different guy. Whole other event. This was only like, 12 years ago."

“The cult guy? Fuck him, I’m not him either.”

"Well… it was kinda him! It was stupid. This one guy – unrelated to cult stuff – caught me off guard in a fight, shot me in the face- It was a whole thing."

“I am none of those people,” She said, sounding like she was losing her patience- not with Xigbar, but with the neverending stream of bullshit he'd been through (and also probably with Xigbar dodging the question). “Yes or no? I can do it when-... yes, when, I get back, but the longer we go before- well, you know. Like what happened to Stanley. It needs to be prompt.”

"Wait, you want to teach me necromancy?" Xigbar stood, starting to pace around the room. It was getting to be one of those phone calls. "Alright… Shoot."

“Alright, good. It’s actually quite simple, with a guiding hand. You remember where you found the torch? There’s a chest of supplies near that. You’ll want to grab a cloak, too, though, it’s going to get cold. Uncomfortably cold, even for me, and I’m a statue.”

"Is that why you wear that thing all the time? And here I thought you were the one in a cult." He laughed.

“Your coat looks cultier than mine, Xigbar. And you actually- well, nevermind. We can discuss this later. Have you found the chest yet, Braig? We’re doing this now.”

"Yeah, yeah, give me a second." He forgot to start looking. Whoops.

“There’s a secret compartment- if you pull down on the bar-”

He walked into her closet and pulled down on the rod- the floor underneath it opened with a click.

"Oh, cool- This already there, or did you have it put in?"

“I built this entire arena. Or, the kins did, under my direction. The cabin, too. This… well, that’s a discussion for later, I feel. But I do owe you the information.”

"You don't owe me anything, doll."

“Well,” He could hear her smile, “I want to tell you. It’s only fair. Now, open the chest. There should be two things in there, yes?”

He opened the chest, “Yeah, I grab those?”

 “Yeah. Now, do grab a cloak, please, too, I don’t quite know how the cold will affect you. If- if it gets too cold, I want you to stop, alright?”

“Damn, and here I was planning on doing this in my bikini." He didn't bother actually hunting down a cloak. Just grabbed the comforter from the bed and wrapped it around himself. It's probably fine.

She let out a faint laugh, “Now, go down to the spike pit. They should still be down.”

"Alright. Do you want anyone else brought back, or just him?" Xigbar started the absolutely arduous journey (like. 3 floors down) to the arena that's so far away (3 floors down) in the worst weather ever (he's inside). "Two birds with one resurrection?"

“Everyone else down there was cringe, right? I don’t quite remember… I just remember wanting to revive Adrien, and then waking up to you using my shower.”

"You did get shot," he hummed. "We didn't get through everyone, I don't think. Had to take care of you then go execute someone." And make an example out of him, but she didn't need to know that. He'd already spilled too many fucked up beans today.

“I see,” she said, “Alright.”

"Eh, push comes to shove, you can always go check out whoever ended up on ice, right?"

“Yes, of course,” She said. Then, “What- do you have movies? Where you’re from?”

"Yeah, probably. Didn't get to watch much though. Was always too busy. Especially this last life- If it wasn't guard work, it was fighting something. If it wasn't fighting something, it was the Org. Always somethin'."

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time. And I want to hear, like, the dirt? Gossip, I guess? About any disney character you know when we watch the movies. I need to know which one of these guys are dicks.”

Xigbar barked out a laugh. "Aw, are you askin' me out?" He teased. "If it's gossip you want, you came to the right guy. Eavesdropping king here." He grinned, even though she couldn't see it. "How do you think I figured out [OMITTED LAYER 1] so fast?"

“You saw my face when I looked up at you, silly. And I wasn’t exactly being subtle. I want people to guess that name.”

"Eh, fair enough. For the record though, I knew before you looked up at me. That was just the confirmation."

“Sure, sure,” She said like she didn’t believe him, “Is Mickey Mouse evil? I want him to be evil.”

"Nah. Technically I'm the evil one. He was a dick, though. You know I got to see him get chokeslammed into a really tall chair once? Hilarious."

She laughed, “I’m imagining how that must’ve sounded. Gods, wait, if Mickey Mouse is real, what about- what about the other animals? Goofy? Is there Goofy? Exist he?”

"Yeah, he hangs out with Sora. Surprisingly eno-"

He was interrupted by her losing it on the other side of the phone. Cackling.

"You wanna know the best part? Out of their little group, he's the smartest. Sora and Donald have like two brain cells apiece."

“Donald Duck?!” She snorted, “Sora hangs out with Goofy and Donald Duck?!”

"Yeah." Now Xigbar was laughing about it, too. "They make a weird looking trio. Even weirder is that whenever they go to a world that's just people, no anthropomorphic anything, no one questions it. I've gotta sneak around in the shadows because I get stopped all the time, but them? Naaaaaah, they're fine. Totally normal."

“It’s the intimidation factor,” She laughed, “No one would dare stop Goofy, he’s too powerful.”

And she was back to losing it.

"Pf, as if. He's one of the first to get knocked out in a fight. I will admit, though, he's still better than the duck."

“Isn’t Donald a war vet, though?”

"I mean, technically they all are now, but what the hell are you talking about?"

“Didn’t he- hold on- actually, no, I’ll misclick and hang up. Just trust me, in this universe’s duck lore-” break for giggles “-he’s like, a war vet, and he had ptsd? It was in some comics. Not that I read the comics.”

"What."

She giggled, “What, you’re from a world with anthropomorphic cartoon characters and I’m the weird one for knowing the lore? Wait. Have you met princesses and if you have, who’s the worst.”

"I didn't personally get up close and personal, but one of my coworkers got absolutely demolished by Belle once. Apparently she elbowed him super hard right in the gut. Made him look like a dumbass in front of Sora. Sora!"

She giggled again, “That’s so funny.”

He grinned, “Alright, I’m going in the pit. Now what?”

“Find Adrien.”

He went down into the spike pit and found the admittedly gross dead body of Adrien Agreste, “Found ‘im.”

“Great, now put the cloak on.”

 Xigbar wrapped the blanket around himself like a cloak. It was basically the same thing, right?

 "'Kay, now what?"

She told him the instructions.

“Oh, that easy?” he asked.

“Yeah, right?” She said as he carried out the first part.

The body now sat in the middle of a sort of symbol made out of, fuck, he didn’t know, Magic Dust? Showie hadn’t explained what it was.

“Done with that?”

“Yeah, doll, now what?”

“Light it.”

“Light it?” He frowned in confusion.

“Yeah, with the matches.”

He lit it with the matches. The dust burned an electric blue color as the fire spiraled and spiraled towards the center where the body was.

Then the foot caught fire, and-

"Doll is the body supposed to be on fire too-"

“Yeah, get ready,” She said. Get ready??? Get ready for what????

Then the cold hit. It felt like a brick wall- This was worse than having to go into Vexen's lab for whatever.

Xigbar yanked the comforter tighter around himself like a cocoon, deeply regretting not grabbing a cloak like she said.

"Y-You know," he started, shivering, "I almost regret giving you my coat- I-I don't, though. You l-looked good in it. … N-Not that I was looking-"

A pause.

“Alright, that’s been, what, 15 seconds? The cold’s about to start.”

"IT HASN'T STARTED?"

“If you need to stop, you can,” She said, sounding concerned and a bit miffed.

"I-I'm fine," he hissed. Not in an angry way, more of a 'holy fuck I want this to stop but now my pride is on the line' way. "Let's just do this."

The temperature dropped another 30 degrees- the fucking cloaks were probably enchanted, weren’t they- fuck-

“There’s nothing to do, Braig, just wait it out. 30 more seconds, okay? 28, 27, 26…”

"I got this-" Probably. Thank fuck for gloves and being in the habit of wearing them even without his coat- His fingers probably would've frozen and snapped off by now. "If I don't make it…. Tell [nickname redacted] he's a bitch-" Now he was just being dramatic.

She let out a little laugh, “15, 14, 13, 12-”

From what he could see inside the symbol- and it was getting hard to see, the cold was hurting his eye- the body in the middle began to writhe.

"Oh that- th-that's fuckin' weird looking-"

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” She said, and all at once the cold dissipated. The boy in the middle of the symbol sat bolt upright, gasping for breath.

 Xigbar sighed in relief, loosening his grip on the comforter. He wasn't ready to drop it yet.

 "He's up," he said into the phone and walked over to the former corpse. "Welcome back, kiddo."

Adrien Agreste looked up at him in fear, “W- where am I? Who are you?”

 "I'm not important. You're in a competition, and you died. But now you're alive. Don't think too hard about it, okay? Don't want to stress that noodle of yours." He turned his head back to the phone. "Degradation. Kid's got amnesia."

“Amnesia?” Said Showie and the kid at the same time. Showie continued, “Well, that’s- that’s not good. Get him back to the cabin safe, alright? And then… and then you should probably see Stanley.” Her voice was tinged with regret.

 "You got it, doll. Think I'll show him how to actually shoot today. Use that as an excuse to test shit." He talked as if he was fully ignoring the very confused teenager on the ground. "Talk to you later?"

“I suppose so, yes,” She said, “Soon. Take notes, alright? And report back. And you call me this time, it’s so difficult for me to press the damned button.”

"Alright, but if you accidentally hit reject, I'm not calling you back." He wasn't serious. Anyone could hear it in his voice.

“Alright,” He could hear her smile, “Take care, Braig. We’ll talk soon.”

"You too, doll." He hit end call. He helped the kid to his feet and clapped him on the back. "Let's get you back to the cabin, huh? Make you somebody else's problem."

#### Cost Of Death Chapter 11 [test things out (guns and stanleys will)]

Stanley was sitting in his room. He felt rather relieved that {SCEPTER} had managed to get out, but he was still… worried. Surely, whatever Xigbar had done to make that happen would be delicate and precarious. It could all fall apart, so easily…

But right now, it wasn’t. It was safe. So Stanley took comfort in that (relative, temporary) safety.

Right now, he was working on a friendship bracelet. It had lots of pink threads from a light strawberry-smoothie shade, to a neon hot pink, to a deep maroon. He also managed to get some beads, which he was weaving in at semi-random intervals.

There was a small duck charm, a heart, a little slice of cake, a tiny hand making a peace-sign, and a flower charm– it was hard to tell what kind it was exactly , since it was so small, but Stanley thought it was a daffodil.

It was nice to have something to do while he waited. Plus, he got to make a gift for his friend! That would make {SCEPTER} feel so happy!

She needed to feel happy right now, after this whole situation with her ex. And Stanley was sure that this bracelet could only make her feel better.

And then, Stanley heard a sound from his computer.

He looked up from his work to check his tumblr, and saw that Xigbar had invited him over to get some practice with the gun. Stanley smiled to himself as he responded– Xigbar was clearly looking for an excuse to just hang out, but he just didn't want to admit it.

But no, it seemed that Xigbar felt it was necessary to take things a bit farther– he wanted Stanley to practice aiming and shooting at targets.

Alright! That sounded… well, it sounded a bit intimidating, but Stanley felt pretty confident that he would be able to do it. He’d at least be able to do some of it, and the point of this was to learn. Surely Xigbar wouldn’t make fun of him for being inexperienced.

So, Stanley set down his bracelet, closed his laptop, and headed over the other apartment.

The door was open. Xigbar was flopped on the couch remnants (he still hadn't called the kins, evidently), idly twirling an arrowgun on one finger. He was wrapped in some kind of comforter.

[Hey!] Stanley signed with a smile. [So, gun practice?]

"Yeah." He stopped twirling the arrowgun, catching it with a skilled hand, and looked up at Stanley. "No reason to give you a gun if you can't shoot. If you miss the kneecaps, what's the point?"

[Threatening him? Having a gun would make me look cool! That would help.]

"Dude. No." Xigbar shook his head and hissed under his breath. " Threats don't mean shit if you can't back them up. "

[But how would he know that? I look threatening!]

"... Absolutely fucking no you do not."

Stanley frowned and then sighed. [Okay… well, I did want to do gun practice, anyway. So. Uh. Lead on!]

Xigbar nodded and stood, shedding his blanket. The air sort of… shimmered.

Stanley felt a sort of pull, all around his bones and skin, and then, he was in the field. His muscles sort of… all felt like jelly and he fell over onto his face. Right into the grass. Oof.

"... Sorry." Xigbar didn't try to help him up, but an apology was something!

Stanley stood up, brushed himself off, and then gave a dual thumbs up to Xigbar. He pulled out his gun– checked the safety, with a pointed look, and then held it carefully.

"Good. Always check the safety. " He pulled out a small notepad and gave Stanley a look. " Don't look at my notes. I'm grading you ."

Stanley nodded and turned away from Xigbar, facing the table. He glanced back at Xigbar expectantly.

"Alright. Aim at one of those bottles and take a shot. I want to see what you need to work on. " Then, as if absentmindedly, he said, " Your favorite color is orange, right? "

Stanley blinked and turned back around. He frowned, and then nodded.

It seemed as though he wanted to say more, but he blinked again, shook off his stupor, and took aim.

The gun kicked out of his hands when he fired, but… He did hit a bottle. The sound of the glass breaking was loud.

"Okay. So. Wow, that was terrible. "

Stanley frowned. He sighed and shook his head, and then sat the gun down– checking the safety, and making sure it was on as he did so.

[It was terrible.] he signed, though somewhat argumentatively, [Because you just said ‘shoot it.’ I thought you were going to teach me gun practice.]

"I didn't expect you to be that bad. Okay."

[I have done nothing that would prepare me for this. What do you– I don’t think there’s even any guns in the Parable, much less any that function .]

"... Okay. So. I guess then let's start from the basics. It's not your aim that's the problem, you did hit the bottle. " Xigbar crossed his arms. "Pick it up. But don't fire until I say. "

Stanley reached down to grab the gun, checked the safety, and then held it. He looked to Xigbar, and then looked back at the bottles.

Xigbar looked at him, pointedly checked a watch (he does not wear a watch), and then, after a full minute, he nodded. "Okay. Take a breath. Hold it, then let it out slowly when you fire. Squeeze the trigger, don't pull it. "

Stanley breathed in, focused, and then squeezed the trigger as he simultaneously let out a breath.

The gun didn't fall this time, but it didn't hit, either. Technically that was still better, right?

"Did you aim?"

Stanley frowned, thought, and then made kind of a shrugging motion. Sort of a ‘Yeah I think? Probably? Maybe. I don’t know.’ kind of shrug.

Xigbar pinched the bridge of his nose. " No, you didn't. You have to aim , Stanley. "

Stanley nodded, and aimed the gun at the next bottle. The one he’d missed. Technically. Because, y’know, he. Hadn’t actually broken it.

" Again. "

Stanley fired, repeating the same motions he had been instructed before. Breathe in, hold, squeeze, and breathe out.

The bottle shattered.

"Finally! Okay. Try hitting the next three. " He paused again. "Didn't you say you were going to stop eating buttons?"

Stanley tried hitting the next three. And he tried pretty well! He repeated the motions; aim, breathe, hold, squeeze, out.

He managed to hit the first two, but the last one… nope.

He turned back to Xigbar, checked the safety and set the gun down, freeing up his hands.

[I did not say that. Are you– why would you think I’d say that? I’m not going to make a promise I can’t keep.]

"Ah. My bad, don't know where I saw that. Maybe I dreamed it."

[Okay?]

"Okay. So, that wasn't awful. " Closest to praise he'd ever gotten from him."You got most of the ones you aimed at."

[Yeah!]

"That's better. This is what I want to see. Try and get the rest of them. If you miss, just skip that bottle and we'll see how many are still there afterward. "

Stanley nodded, picked up the gun again– checked the safety– and then positioned himself.

He took aim at, and fired at, the rest of the remaining bottles. His technique was starting to improve; he could feel Xigbar’s instructions guiding him a bit better than before.

He was improving! He was learning! With Xigbar. Yay!

He hit five of the remaining seven bottles, skipping only two. Stanley turned back to Xigbar and grinned a little.

"Alright!" Xigbar clapped him on the back. "Good! You're actually not that bad a shot! That was pretty decent, especially for someone who I'm assuming has never held a gun before I handed it to you. "

Stanley checked the safety, set the gun down, and then signed.

[Yeah, I’ve never held a gun before this whole thing. None in the Parable, like I said. I mean, I’ve seen pictures of them. But that’s... yeah. I haven’t used one before.]

" Not bad. Guess handing it to you was a decent idea. "

[Yeah! I’m glad you gave it to me. Now I can shoot kneecaps.]

" Alright, calm down, killer. "

Stanley smiled happily. [I feel– this is really nice, Xigbar. Just hanging out! It’s not nearly as stressful as I would have thought.]

"Yeah, well. You're not gonna get stuck in the same place as that fuckin' guy defenseless. "

[Yeah, guns are a good defense! And he deserves to get shot.]

"Damn right he does. As soon as Showie and I get the chance, he's dead . "

[Yeah.] Stanley signed with great emphasis.

"Why do you call her 'scepter'?"

[It’s a sign name. Like yours is {STRIPES}. She asked me to use {SCEPTER} in place of her name.]

"So, then, what's her actual name?"

[She… she asked me not to tell a soul. I. I mean I know you guys are dating and everything but. I don’t know if… I should?]

"We're not- I don't have a soul. Technically speaking."

[Oh, well then it’s [REDACTED].]

"... Interesting."

[What?]

"Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it. " He scribbled something down on his notepad.

[Oh, okay. Are we done with the gun practice?]

"Eh, yeah. You seem like you're good enough. If you want to try it again at all, I'm gonna leave the stuff out here."

[Oh. Thanks!]

"You go do… Whatever."

[Can we go back to the apartments? With your fast-travel?]

" Don't call it fast travel. I'm not from a fucking video game. "

[I wasn’t… I know you’re not? Of course you’re not. That’s just– is that not what you call it?]

"It's warping , dumbass. Teleportation."

[Okay, well, normal people can’t teleport at all. They do taxes and go to work and talk about the weather. So. How was I supposed to know that?]

"It's better than saying fuckin' ' fast travel ', like I'm from goddamn Skyrim ." He scoffed.

[It’s what I’m most familiar with. The Narrator is– he uses that sort of. Terminology. For things outside of the office.]

" That's stupid. "

[Yeah, he’s often stupid. Idiot god, and all that, y’know?]

Xigbar didn't say anything, only raised an eyebrow and kept scribbling on his notepad. This must be some grade.

[Are you… done? Can we teleport?]

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Hang on." The air shimmered again. This time was less disorienting.

It felt more akin to… a restart, actually. One that had come out of nowhere, and jarringly placed him back to where he belonged. But no part of his body hurt, he felt in control, and he did not fall over this time.

"Okay… You go do whatever it is the hell you do. I'm gonna go call Showie and give her an update on your progress."

[Wait, you can– you can talk to her?]

"Yeah, apparently phones work there. Or, at least, they connect to here "

[No, just– wow. I’m impressed you managed to swing that, given how much of a dick her ex is.]

"She's not with him anymore. In her own apartment."

[Oh! That’s– well, that’s great. Tell her I say hi!]

"... Yeah, sure. Okay."

[Bye, {STRIPES}!]

"... Bye."

He teleported away, presumably back to his apartment.

Feeling better about his chances in the divorce tournament, Stanley sat down on the couch and began to reread the waffle iron manual. Now that was literature.

#### Like A Statue Chapter 5

“Yeah, well, I’m afraid hating you is no longer an option for me.”

"Shit- Did I- Do you have- Are you okay?"

Was she?

She sat on the edge of the tub, drawing a bath. Cool water, like she normally did. [name redacted] had made her do warm just two nights ago. So she would feel more human.

He’d complained to her- or, at her, he didn’t really talk to her much at all, about the fact that she’d partially reverted back to ivory. He’d said it was because he was an essential part of her, that she’d been stupid to run, that she should have just been good and stayed. He’d said it was like atrophy. The longer she was away the more she would wither.

Luckily, she knew the truth. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like if she didn’t know the truth.

Stanley didn’t know the truth.

She shook her head hard, like she was trying to fling the thought out using the momentum. They had a plan. She and Braig had a plan. This was the only way. He’d said it was the only way.

No- no, no thinking of Stanley right now. She would think about her bath right now.

The last time she’d had a bath, Braig had broken her coffee table. She wished he’d come do it again, then he’d be here.

Was she okay?

She was same-hatting Stanley in more ways than one. Her ‘mother’ hadn’t made her to be a person, she’d made her to be a wife. A perfect, obedient wife. Damage control, Showie had rationalized to herself in the years after she ran. Her mother was just trying to protect the other women in the village. Give [name redacted] a toy to play with so he didn’t hurt someone real .

Braig- he seemed to have picked up on this. She didn’t directly say it, but he had inquired about her will. He’d asked if she was okay, if he was doing something.

She didn’t think so. She hoped not.

She didn’t think so.

…She didn’t think so…

When she’d been born- created, actually, but you get it. When she’d first opened her eyes, she was what her mother had intended. There was a reason [name redacted] expected total control. He used to have it. She’d loved him, because of course she did, what choice did she have? She’d been made to love him. She’d been made to obey.

She put her legs in the rising water. Cold, like ivory was cold. Like she was cold.

Like the night she ran was cold.

It had been in winter- not snowing, but frigid. She remembered seeing the constellation Orion in the sky from outside of [name redacted]’s window in his house. He’d been getting sick, and she’d been taking care of him. Of course she had. What other choice?

The moon was full that night. The night sky was brilliant, all purple waves of galaxy and shining stars. The cold had chilled her skin.

It was beautiful. She wanted to go outside to see it further. One foot was out the door when he’d called her back in.

She was going to go back in. Of course she was. But one moment outside couldn’t hurt, could it?

The frost covered grass melted under her feet. The sky shown brightly. She could see the forest from where she stood. The forest was beautiful.

Staring at the light of the full moon, she felt something she’d never felt before. A tug. A whisper. She remembered the stories of the girls who leapt off of cliffs and were caught by Apollo. The women who’d killed their husbands and became the Amazons. Artemis’s huntresses in the woods.

He called her back in again. He said he was coming to get her if she wasn’t back in in 30 seconds.

But in that moment she knew. She was never going back in, ever again.

But two days ago, she’d awoken in his bed. In however many days, she was condemning Stanley to his bed. Braig said it was the only way to get her out. She believed him, of course.

He’d asked if she was okay. If he was doing something to her will.

She didn’t think so. But she was scared. She’d been bound by [name redacted]’s word for as long as she’d loved him- and she’d had to go to Hecate and give up part of herself to stop loving him. And she hadn’t loved since. She figured it must have been part of the deal. She’d figured she’d given that up, too. Which she was fine with. Relieved about.

She was worried that the- the way she was beginning to feel- the way she used to feel- was somehow tied to the way he used to be able to bend her. She was worried that, with that coming back- would- would Braig be able to…?

She didn’t think so. But she didn’t know. He was following her orders. For now. But gods , if he was picking up on- She hadn’t even told him about that part. She was beginning to doubt herself. Was he? No, surely not, right? He was different. Sure, he was self-proclaimed Evil. A ‘dick’, by his own words. But that- that didn’t mean anything, right? Just because he’d admitted to fucking with Stanley’s will? Just because she had ordered him to do it more?

She rubbed her eyes. Probably smearing the pigment. He always commented on that.

The water was up to her upper calves now. Full. Taking a deep breath, she turned off the water and got in.

Cold. Like ivory was.

In the nightmares she always had, she was completely human. She’d wake up in [name redacted]’s bed- or her bed, and [name redacted] would be there, and she’d be human, and powerless to resist-

She shook her head. No more thinking about this. No more thinking about this.

Instead, she washed off what was left of the pigment and then leaned back, closing her eyes. She would be alright. She would be alright. She was safe. She would be safe.

Stanley wouldn’t be safe.

She shook her head, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes. She saw stars. Beautiful stars.

She knew she should make Braig call off the deal. She knew she should go back. She knew it was wrong to sacrifice Stanley like this. He didn’t deserve it. He was more vulnerable than she was. He could still be helped. He didn’t need to go through what she had gone through. That was what she had been trying to stop from happening to him. She knew she should just go back. She knew the right thing to do was to go back.

But she couldn’t . She wouldn’t . She couldn’t make herself. She didn’t want to make herself. She knew that- that somehow she would be able to get out, that she would have a much easier time than Stanley, but gods above -. She justified it to herself that it wasn’t her idea. Braig had done this on his own. And- and Stanley had- well, she’d seen the post! Stanley had been willing to take a deal just like this one! Only one thing changed! But it wasn’t like one other person would make much of a difference anyway, would it? Would it?

Her phone rang. Her eyes snapped open. Only one person had her phone number. Speak of the devil.

Grabbing the potato battery and wrapping a coil around her finger, she swiped to answer the call. Several times. She got it just before the last ring, and turned off the screen, bringing it to her ear.

“ Hey, doll.”

“Hey, Braig. What’s happening?”

“ I did some experimenting with Stanley.” ah. right. of course.

“Alright. Tell me everything.”

He did.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 15

“Hey, doll,” He leaned against a wall, looking at his notes.

 “Hey, Braig. What’s happening?”

 “I did some experimenting with Stanley.”

 “Alright. Tell me everything.”

 "Alright. So, I kept things on the DL, but I think he was starting to catch on a little bit towards the end. But I'm pretty sure he just thought I was fucking with him. Anyway, I need to test it out a bit more, but it looks like he believes anything said as fact, even if it's phrased almost like a question. It can't be a full question, though. I tried it, it doesn't work."

 “Alright, ” Xigbar heard faint splashing on the other end of the line. What? “ Run by me what you said.”

 He opened his mouth to speak, but apparently that was just a pause, because she continued:

 “Not that I think you- not that I think you tried to be mean- I don’t- but if you- not that I-” Was she always this uncertain? “ You can, like, hold onto that until later. Not in a state to handle that right now. Had some. Thoughts .”

 "... Okay, doll. I have some good news, if you want that." Maybe it would help with whatever mental issue she was dealing with.

 “ That’d be lovely.”

 "Turns out, he's actually a pretty good shot," Xigbar hummed. "Only missed a couple times."

 “ A- a good shot? Was this a shooting lesson?”

 "Yeah. Didn't want to give him the gun and then not teach him how to actually shoot. Could blow his foot off or something." It was an exaggeration. The gun he'd given Stanley wasn't nearly powerful enough for that.

 Silence.

 "He's not gonna , obviously. I really drilled the safety parts into his head."

 “No, no, I know,” She said. More water sounds. Was she in the bath? … No, he didn't want to think about that. Not the time to get distracted.

  “Braig, I’ve been thinking,” She continued,  “Will the gun be any- will it be any use? [name redacted] will confiscate it. It’s a- it’s a glorified teddy bear, isn’t it? A comfort, sure, but useless? He can’t kill him, or I die.” A pause, “I’d like to- I’m afraid i’m not quite as well versed with secret weapons as i’d like to be. But if possible, I’d like to give him as many as we can.”

 "He's real adamant about shooting [name redacted] in the kneecaps. Who am I to take that away from him?" Xigbar shrugged. "As for secret weapons… Do you still have that amulet you took from him? Like- do you know where it is? Team Lit had an extra I swiped, so we can use that to at the very least monitor him."

 “He’s very particular about jewelry. I was only ever allowed to wear the wedding ring. I’m certain he’ll take that, too.”

 "Hm. Maybe there's a way we can hide it? Maybe…" He paused for a second. "Implant it in his skin somehow?" First he was trading him away like a possession, now he's suggesting cutting him open. It's a wonder Showie was still putting up with him.

 “Ah! Braig ! ” He heard splashing- okay, probably in the bath- and the sound of what was probably her hand hitting her head. He heard a whooshing noise like she was shaking the phone, but that ended soon enough , “I- we can talk about that later! Ah!” some deep breaths, “It’s okay, it’s okay, keep talking. Keep talking, let’s get back to the notes. ”

 "Okay… So, one thing I noticed was he seems to prioritize the easier commands first. I told him some wrong information, but presented it as a fact, and he took the time to process it before he finished shooting a bottle. The information wasn't anything bad, just something he and I both know is wrong. I told him his favorite color is orange. We all know it's actually beige, but he agreed with me anyway."

 “Good to know,” She said thoughtfully, “But go ahead and set that one back to normal when you get the chance, okay? I’ve already finished the friendship bracelet, and it’s mostly beige. Speaking of, you never did give me those measurements.”

 "My bad," Xigbar laughed. "I'll go hunt down a measuring tape later, okay? Promise. Anyway- Didn't mean to, but it looks like I gave him a command the other day. This one is actually pretty good, though. He checks the safety every time he puts the gun down or picks it up. He was makin' me nervous, just shoving the damn thing in his pocket like it was nothing."

 A pause. Probably didn’t mean anything, it seemed Showie was the type to think before she spoke.

 “And the- the safety on a gun, where is that? I’m afraid I’ve never- I mean-”

 "You want me to teach you, too, doll? I can make that happen."

 He heard a smile when she spoke, “I think it’s a good idea, I-” the smile went away, “I… oh, well, nevermind. Next note?”

 "I told him not to fire until I gave him the okay. Waited a full minute. Just watched me stare at my wrist. I don't even have a watch."

 “Well, to be fair, I’d do that too,” She said, “How can we be sure it’s actually a will issue and not just him choosing to listen?”

 "I don't, but I'm going to assume it's a will thing. I phrased it like a command. Continuing- He agreed with everything I said, as long as I phrased it like some sort of fact. At one point, I made it too questiony, and it didn't affect him."

 “Good to know. Can I hear your phrasing?”

 "One sec. 'Didn't you say you were going to stop eating buttons?'. When I did the color one, I just tacked a 'right?' on the end of it. So there's a limit to how much of a question it can be."

 “Good to-” A pause, “He eats buttons?”

 "Yeah. It's fuckin' weird. I actually saw him eat one once. Just took a bite out of the red one he's got."

 “... Huh,” She said, “Odd.”

 A pause.

 “ Did any other commands not work?”

 "None so far, but I'm planning on getting some more testing in if I can." He debated on telling her the name thing. Obviously, he already knew it, but… "... I got him to say your name. Well, not say , but you know. He told me your phrasing of 'not to tell a soul', so my guess is it worked on the basis of I don't have one."

 “......... You don’t?”

 "No heart either, but they're almost the same thing."

 Silence.

 “ No?”

 "Metaphorical heart. Not a physical one. I have a physical one- I wouldn't be alive otherwise. I'm a Nobody."

 Silence.

 “Are you insulting yourself or is that some kind of term? In the first case, I disagree. In the second case, spill.”

 "It's a term." He laughed again. "Glad to know you like me, though. … I'd wink, but. Phone. Also one eye. Anyway, it just means I stayed myself after losing my heart. Only the strongest wills can do that." Subtle brag.

 Silence.

 “Alright, pause. I’m going to need to know what ‘losing your heart’ means.”

 "Means exactly what it sounds like. It's gone. Probably a Heartless running around somewhere now. B-”

 “ Braig, assume I’m an idiot here, okay? Explain anything you haven’t actively seen in the force field, alright? Assume I don’t know. What’s a heartless?”

 "Little critters formed out of the darkness of people's hearts. They can also be formed when a person fully falls into darkness, or when they just straight up lose their heart. Losing your heart happens with a keyblade. Get stabbed in just the right way, and… you get the picture."

 “... Did someone hurt you?”

 "Huh? Oh, no, Doll. Don't worry. I chose this."

 Silence.

 “... I see.” She sounded a bit… put out?

 "... You okay?" What did he say? How does he keep doing this?

 “Of course! Um, what does it- what happens when you lose your heart? Besides becoming a Nobody. You said it is what it sounds like, but I feel like that’s only obvious to you because you know what it means.”

 "You get stabbed, or in some cases, you can get it ripped out by heartless, and you pass out. When you come to, you're completely numb. No feelings. Just the memory. Then you're a Nobody. Kind of a switcheroo thing. Heartless are hearts, Nobodies are bodies. Like an Iceland/Greenland sort of thing." He purposely left out the fact that under the right conditions, hearts grow back. He was avoiding thinking about that. For no reason, of course. It's fine. Everything is fine.

 “... Oh…. okay.” She sounded more put out than before,  “Next note?”

 "Yeah… Okay. This one was unintentional, but it still worked, so you don't need to have intent to control him for it to work. He mentioned something the Narrator had said once, and I said it was stupid. Because it was. He instantly agreed with me. Even started talking a little shit about the Narrator. Not sure if that part is fully related, though."

 “Continue.”

 "He brought up the video game thing again. I told him I'm still not from a video game ," it was still a bit of a sore topic, "and he finally agreed. I didn't do anything to convince him, so I'm assuming it's related to the way I said it as fact."

 “ Alright. Is that all?” Her voice was… different… than it was at the beginning of the call.

 "Oh- I also told him to calm down once. He got too excited about shootin’ kneecaps. He did calm down in his signs, but I should've found out how he was feeling before."

 “ I see. And that’s all?” Colder, was the word for it. Didn’t sound like the same Showie that had been trying to reassure him at the beginning of the call.

 "Yeah, that's about it." Xigbar paused. "Did I say something wrong?"

 “No, I believe you told the truth.”

 "That's…" He frowned. Okay, yeah, it's been a while since he'd talked to a woman this much, but usually he was decently good at not pushing buttons unless he wanted to. "... Are you mad at me?"

 Silence.

 "I thought you wanted me to figure him out-"

 “ That’s not it.”

 A pause.

 “ I’m not mad at you.”

 A pause.

 “ I don’t understand.”

 " ... I don't, either." He had no idea what she was upset about.

 He heard a shaky breath through the phone. More water noises.

 “The- give me a minute, the fucking water got warm. Hold on.”

 Silence broken only by clinking and quiet swearing for about a minute.

“I fucking hate when the water gets warm, it makes me feel like his hands are on me- it’s dreadful,” She said, and he heard a door open, “ I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere near here. This is awful.” He got the sense this is not what she was mad about.

 Still, he had to say something that had a shot at clearing the air.

 "That reminds me- I managed to talk to whoever runs Fuckable Old Man Battle. They're going to make a bracket that all four of us can be in. And I know that PvP is enabled in there, so to speak."

 “Great,” she said, “More time around him . I- I-” He heard the sound of cloth rustling- was she getting into bed? “ Fuck! I- I’m not mad at you. I’m not.” More rustling.

 "What I mean is, he'll be open to being killed. There won't be any consequences. You can shoot him in the dick all you want."

 Silence.

 “ Honest question.”

 "What?" Scary.

 “ Do I let this fester and hope it goes away or do I just say it and deal with whatever your answer is?”

 "..." Xigbar took a breath. "Look, Doll, whatever it is, I'm not gonna be upset or anything. I am really bad at being mad at you."

 Silence.

 “ That.”

 "What?"

 “ What is that?” She sounded more confused and a little hurt than angry.

 Oh.

 Oh.

 It finally clicked. Goddamn, he was stupid.

 "It's not- I'm not fucking with you when I say shit like that. Honest. I know I'm- it's-" Xigbar found it really hard to figure out the right words here. "I still have memories . Traces- You're only completely numb like that when it first happens, y'know? I'm not just saying shit to say it." That was probably the wrong way to say it.

 Silence.

 Fuck. It was definitely the wrong way to say it.

 “ What do the stars look like where you’re from?”

 FUCK.

 "That could mean a lot of places. Daybreak Town had so many stars- It looked like the sky was just. Full of glitter. The World That Never Was had none. Just black emptiness, until Kingdom Hearts showed up."

 “Have you seen the milky way? If that makes any sense?”

 "Once or twice. When I went to a world that had it. It's weird to explain- They all operate on different rules. They're like pocket dimensions. Most of them even have different flows of time."

 Silence.

 “ Time?”

 "Say a year passes for you. In certain worlds, that could be a week, a decade, even a minute. Some of them just loop forever, the same events over and over for eternity."

 “I feel like that sometimes.”

 A pause.

 “What about forests?”

 "There's tons. You should see the one in Corona – It's beautiful. Didn't get to go there much, but I did like it a lot."

 “Maybe I should.”

 "I could take you there someday, if you want."

 Silence. Rustling of cloth.

 “ When’s the furthest back you’ve been? If time flows differently? You mentioned Heracles?”

 "Yeah, even talked to the guy once or twice. That's what, Ancient Greece? I've been there a few times."

 This was fucking terrifying.

 Did he fuck it all up? She wasn't acknowledging what he'd said. Despite the fact that she was technically asking about him, it was all so impersonal. She was clamming up, or something. Her voice was too damn calm.

 “ That’s where I’m from. Different, I don’t know, different world, though.”

 "Y-Yeah… You said that guy was an ass, right? This one was too naïve. Acted like a golden retriever. Hate that guy."

 “The Heracles from this world, Hera drove him to madness and he murdered his wife and children.”

 "... Holy shit. That's fucked up- and that's coming from the human experimentation guy." Please laugh.

 “ In Greece, did you see houses? Ones with space? Or were you not in that part of town?”

 "I didn't really see houses, sorry. I stayed out of towns. But the place I was by most recently, I'm pretty sure it was called… Thebes, I think."

 “Which one? I know of two.”

 "The one by, uh- Mount Olympus. That was right there. Sora ran up a vertical cliff, it was insane. Kid scares me sometimes."

 Silence.

 “ When-... no, actually. You have winter, right?”

 "Yeah- The actual weather of it though depends on where you are. Just like regular places, I guess."

 “... Humor me a second?”

 "Winters in Daybreak Town were short, but it snowed a lot. The real fluffy, powdery stuff. When-" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "Okay- Are you okay? You're freaking me out."

 “I’m admittedly still thrown from our earlier call.”

 "Yeah, that's- that's to be expected. It's still better than just… dropping it on you after it was over, though. I don't know why I thought that was a good idea." None of it was a good idea, but… It's not like he had a choice.

 Silence.

 “You were planning on dropping it on me after it was over?”

 "Less of a plan and more of just… I didn't want to tell you. I was… scared." That. Was not fun to admit.

 Silence.

 “ I…” a deep sigh, “ lots of conflicting signals from you today, Braig.”

 Has talking to women always been this nerve wracking? Xigbar couldn't remember the last time he'd been this nervous. He'd died. Multiple times. And yet somehow that was easier than this.

 "I- … I meant it when I said I care about you."

 Silence.

 “ Hi.”

 "Uh-" Oh god what the fuck does that mean? Should he backtrack? Would that just mess things up more? What the fuck does he say??? "... Hi?"

 “Hi,” She yawned. She yawned?

 "Maybe you should- Maybe you should go nap or something?" Escape???? Possible escape from this conversation???? Please?????

 “I’ve been in bed for the past few minutes now.”

 "Y-Yeah… You sound sleepy." He needs to have an out. Go figure out what to say next time to smooth all this over. Definitely not just afraid.

 “Today has been terrible,” She yawned. Then, almost as an afterthought, “I meant it when I said I’m not mad at you.”

 "... Maybe not mad, but you sound upset."

 Cloth rustling, “ and you sound very concerned for a Nobody.”

 "That's-" Nope. No comeback. She had him there. Xigbar went silent, frowning.

 “ You don’t have to really- honestly, I’m just speaking recreationally here,” She said, “ I have been for the past few minutes. I want you on the line and- I don’t know- vocalizing? That sounds weird-” yawn “ -vocalizing at me, I guess. Just. But I think i’m done with the conversation. I have been for a few minutes now. Don’t leave me, though. Just, fuck, say shit?”

 "... Okay." Xigbar took a breath.

 Okay, this was.. a relief. It didn't help the whole 'conflicting signals' thing she'd mentioned, but at least it was something. All that wasn't just her clamming up because she didn't like him now, or something. Not that he was worried about that. Definitely not. He didn't care.

 He launched into some story about finding Demyx slacking off somewhere and blackmailing him into doing his missions for a week- Something light. Inconsequential. He needed to shake off all the concern that had been driving him. Not that he was concerned. He wasn't.

 "... And then- You know where I found him the next day? Same broom closet. Dude didn't even switch up his hiding places. He's lucky it wasn't Saïx that found him, otherwise he would've had a lot worse to deal with than a few extra missions."

 A yawn. “ Today’s been rough,” She muttered, “ Wish you were here, Braig.”

 "... I wish I was, too." If he was, he probably wouldn't have had to make that deal. Threatening that freak would've worked in person. He could've gotten her out of there a lot sooner, too. "I will be soon."

 “ I know,” She said, “ I just wish that wouldn’t, like, harbinge.”

 "Maybe I can get everyone out of it. I think if I threaten [name redacted] in person, that would work. I wouldn't kill him, but I could maim him a little. Just enough to show him I mean business. Scare him into fucking off."

 “ I still want to watch through the movies with you. But I- maybe they’ll be a distraction? You’ll be- once you get here, you’re staying, right?”

 "Of course I am. I'm not leaving you alone in there."

 She hummed. “You kept picking the left side of the bed.”

 "Do- Do you want the left side?"

 Cloth rustling, “ I don’t- when I- remember when I wrecked your shit?”

 "I still have the bruises. I'm surprised nothing broke.”

 “ Right side of the bed will do that to ya,” She muttered tiredly, “ fucked up and evil side of the bed. 1000 devils in the world and 999 of them are on the right side of the bed. And the last one is hiding under it. Right side of the bed is the leading cause of death in our nation today,,,” She trailed off.

 "Doll, if you want to take the left side, you can have it." Is he allowed to laugh? He's not gonna laugh. Just to be safe. Things feel better; he didn't want to fuck it up. "Even better, we just get one that's super wide and sleep perpendicular. Instead of right and left, there's up and down."

 Quiet laughter.

 "Get bunk beds. I already have that camp counselor shirt, right? It'll fit." She was laughing, so might as well keep making jokes. Fix this godforsaken conversation.

 “ Bunk beds defeat the purpose,” She muttered, “And it’s only the right side, anyway. I’m fine on the left. Do you have horses where you’re from? These sentences are connected.”

 "Uah- Not really- Probably a good thing. Horses freak me out. Too fragile."

 “ Sometimes, there exist horses that are fine if you are on one side and kick murder death death kill die one thousand deaths if you are on the other,,, It’s me i’m horses.”

 "I figured as much. You definitely kick like one."

 “ Pirate-ass.”

 " Hey, that's surfer pirate to you, madam."

 She giggled, and he heard a kind of wsh-wsh-wsh-wsh cloth type sound, like she was kicking her feet under the covers, “ Gods, never call me ‘madam’. Me and my horse kicks will find you.”

 "Alright, alright, I won't. Don't need you actually breaking my nose this time. Got enough going on with my face." He laughed. "What do you want me to call you, then?"

 Silence.

 "Come on, you gotta have something you like." Definitely subtle. Good job, Xigbar.

 “ Ummmm,” She hummed thoughtfully, “ Doll is fine, that’s fun. I guess I haven’t really thought about it. Haven’t ever had to. I… I… if you wanted to, you could use [OM2T], but not around anyone. Top secret. And no one else can use it or they die one thousand deaths. And I melt like a witch. But you could.”

 "You sure? You hate that name- Why would you want me to call you something like that?"

 “ You’re different. Besides, I hate [OMITTED LAYER 2] and [OMIT-2]ie. [OM2T] is nice. It’s elegant. Exclusive. And no one’s ever called me that before. You can though. Imagine I am handing you a [OM2T] license along with the license to kill i am returning.”

 "'Different'... Oh." It was all he heard. He completely zoned out after that. It felt. Weird. Sure, he'd heard Stanley say it, but that was Stanley. He didn't care what that button eater thought of him. Showie, though…

 Why did he care? He wasn't supposed to.

 "Oh."

 “ You okay Braig?”

 "Y-Yeah- fine." Definitely not fine. He wasn't supposed to be feeling anything.

 Was his…? No. It had never happened before, it can't be happening now. It can't.

 “ You don’t sound fine,” She sounded concerned and a lot less sleepy, like he’d woken her with…

 She continued, “ You sound… are you okay? If- if that was too much, I can back off-”

 " Did you know…" he started. "Under the right conditions- Hearts can, uh- they can grow back?"

 “Oh!” She sounded… delighted? “ I mean- oohh, are you okay?” Concerned again.

 "... Nice save, doll."

 “ I thought so, yeah,” She said.

 "So… that's what the problem was earlier, huh?"

 “ Imagine if someone had been flirting with you for the past month and then they said ‘Oh, yeah, by the way, I’m completely numb and have no emotions. You think I liked you? As if!’” She said with a not so flattering Xigbar impression.

 "I don't sound like that." Yeah, that's the only problem he had with that. Sure.

 “ Yeah, okay, Braig. Sure.” She sounded like she was holding something back. Maybe a laugh. Maybe another ‘as if’.

 "You suck." He grinned and flopped down against the wall. "Did you really think I don't like you?"

 “ You literally said yo-” a pause. “ Nevermind.” Though she didn’t sound angry.

 "I told you my name. I feel like that should've been some kind of giveaway." Wait. Wait. What the fuck was he saying. This wasn't normal.

 “ It was a giveaway. Then you confused me. We’re good now.”

 "Skill issue."

 “ Oh-! Die one thousand deaths in the spike pit, Braig, the skill issue is on you for being incapable of speaking to women.”

 "Are you victim blaming me for getting keyblade stabbed?" He gasped in mock hurt. "I thought you were better than that, doll. Shame on you."

 “ Skill issue on your part for not remembering when I said ‘Did someone hurt you’ and you said ‘Oh no, doll, don’t worry, I chose this.”

 "I am being victim blamed right now. You're harassing me. I'm being harassed. I'm so hurt. Jail for Showie! Jail for 1000 years!"

 “ Silence, goon, ” She said.

 " You silence, girlboss."

 He heard her chuckle.

  "So, what were you saying about Demyx?"

 "Oh, yeah…-"

#### Cost of Death Chapter 12 [stanley angy mode!!!!]

Stanley sighed as he stepped away from his laptop. At least {SCEPTER} would be able to hear whatever sort of bullshit Xigbar pulled this time. Assuming he didn’t hang up. Or. Just wait. Or just do it in a subtle enough way. Or maybe, she doesn’t give a shit that he’s evil, and–

Nope. Nope, that was not a productive line of thought. Stanley did not like that line of thought, because it made him feel stupid and small and helpless. He did not like that.

He took a deep breath, grabbed his… no, actually, he wasn’t going to let his buttons near Xigbar.

He went off towards Xigbar’s room and knocked on the door in a short one-two.

" What ." He didn't open the door, just yelled from the other side. Seemed like he was in the habit of doing that.

Stanley huffed and just. Knocked again. He’s mute. Dickhead.

"Dude. Just come in. I don't wanna get up."

Stanley opened the door awkwardly and grimaced.

[I didn’t know what you were up to. So I knocked. It’s polite.]

"Whatever. What do you want? I'm busy." He covered the microphone of his phone with one hand.

[Just. Undo the fucking no-talking command. Please. She even thinks you should.]

A voice came from Xigbar’s phone- Stanley couldn’t hear it. Xigbar brought it up to his ear.

"... Yeah, sure, doll." He pressed a button on his phone. "She wants to talk to you."

[Hi.] Stanley signed awkwardly. [You know, she. It’s not really. I would prefer if you didn’t speak for me.]

"... Right. We're switching to video. He doesn't want me translating." Something about the look on his face said the feeling was mutual.

Stanley nodded at Xigbar. Yeah.

Xigbar pointed his phone screen towards Stanley. {SCEPTER} was on there, looking upset- she- there was a large gray splotch across one side of her face. Oh.

“Hi, Stanley.”

[Hello. You’re. Uh. Well, clearly you’re not good, but. How bad are you?]

She let out a sad laugh, “I’m doing okay. I’m healing. Uh- B-” She froze. “Xigbar, can you undo the ‘don’t-tell-showie’ command?”

[Yeah.]

"Only because you asked." Xigbar rolled his eye (he wasn't on camera). " You can tell Showie whatever the hell you want. "

[Great.] Stanley signed, as he felt the command root into his soul. He winced slightly– shit, these were really piling up. Even though this one was allowing him more access… it was like a room painted over and over and over again; each layer growing on top of the other, and slowly but surely making the space ever smaller.

[He commanded me around for no fucking reason– oh yeah, he knew about the will thing from the start , and purposefully didn’t tell you– and he–]

"OKAY. That's fuckin' wrong. I had a suspicion . Didn't actually know until you told me."

[You— fine . You knew from nearly the beginning. And still didn’t tell her. And you made me kneel? For some creepy-ass reason? Do you just– is there, like, a certain quota of dickish-ness you’re required to reach in every day?]

"I wanted to test it. Seemed easy. You wouldn't do that unless you were forced to, so… You do the math."

[You could have– you know what, never mind. Fuck this. Fuck both of you, doing fucking human experimentation like it’s some kind of hobby. I am going to go back to my fucking room– since you’ve made it so I can’t leave, by the way , in case you didn’t notice – and I am going to. Fucking. Just. Focus. I guess.]

{SCEPTER} was staring at him, her mouth agape, looking sick. She looked to where Xigbar would be (were he in the room with her and not holding the phone) then back at Stanley. “I- you-” she said, then looked over to her right at something, “Give me a minute, I’m going on mute, I need to- I can still hear-” She muted herself and then ran into what looked like a bathroom in the split second before she put her camera facing the floor. About 30 seconds later, she picked the camera up, unmuted herself, and pointed the camera back at her face. She looked like a mess, eyes watering and shit, and gasped, “You- you what? You made him what?”

"It wasn't serious. Not some kind of fucked up power thing. I was just trying to think of something simple he would never do otherwise to test it."

[It literally was he was so fucking smug about it.] Stanley signed angrily– although, he did seem to be a bit more distressed, towards {SCEPTER}.

"I'm smug about everything, dick. It's a character trait."

“There’s a difference between smug and-” She sounded horrified, “I-” She paused for a few seconds, like she was thinking of something to say, and then looked like she discarded whatever it was she thought of.

[You literally ordered me to ‘make sure I kept both of you happy’.] Stanley signed, pointing at Xigbar. [I couldn’t fucking tell her about my will because that would have made her ‘unhappy’. I did– do you know how much that hurt ?]

"Alright, look. I didn't think that far ahead. At least, I didn't think that would stop you from telling her about your will. That's my bad."

[You are so fucking careless. I can feel every time a command roots into me, and you just– you aren’t careful! So many fucking times, you’ve just been talking and I don’t know if it’s because you’re selfish or because you don’t care about me, but it— they take root! All of the time, they take root, and sometimes, I can’t even tell what it is! Because you’re changing the way I fucking think .]

" Sorry I don't fuckin' know how your whole deal works! We haven't exactly had a damn discussion on it," he hissed. "Stop trying to-”

“BR-AUGH! XIGBAR! ” {SCEPTER} shouted, sounding distraught, “That’s- you- don’t tell him to stop anything, that’s  a command, don’t- don’t-” the camera became blurry as she apparently flapped her hands around in distress, “ Stop! I-” She took several deep breaths as the camera stilled. Stanley thought he could see her mind working, on what, he didn’t know, “I- you- just-” The anger in her voice was… gone? But she still sounded horrified and distressed, “You need to stop doing that . You need to- I know you just kind of- that’s how you speak, I know that, but you need to- Gods , I feel sick-” She took a moment to steady herself, but then didn’t continue.

Stanley glared at Xigbar and stepped back pointedly.

[You’ve just– look.] he pinched his brow and sighed. [This is something that can be dealt with. My will degraded cause of the revivals; okay. We can work around that . If you actually want to. If you don’t? Please let me go! I will gladly fuck off into the woods. That. At this point, that’d be better. I don’t. I don’t think I’ll be able to get him back for a while.]

{SCEPTER}’s breathing was shallow, head in her hands. She was silent for a while. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, then said, “Xigbar, do you- you can do that, right? You’re, like, capable? ” She looked up at her phone, waiting for a reply.

[He really just needs to not be around me. I can’t get ordered if he’s not near me.] Stanley added tensely.

"I can avoid him. Can't completely rewrite the way I talk." It was better than nothing.

“That-”

[Good enough for me. As long as you’re taking some kind of precaution.]

Stanley looked between Xigbar and the phone, nodded to himself, and then sighed.

[Okay. Please just. I know you don’t like him, but if you actually want to fix my will? Let him out.]

He then turned around, and went back to his apartment.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 16

[Okay. Please just. I know you don’t like him, but if you actually want to fix my will? Let him out.]

And he left. Xigbar sighed. That was. A lot to deal with. Of fuckin' course Stanley had to come in and ruin a nice conversation.

"... Sorry about that, Doll." Not about fucking with Stanley, of course, he didn't regret that at all. He just felt bad about making her so upset.

“I-” She was panicking. Maybe he’d get a subject change? Keyblade question? “I- you told him to kneel, Braig?”

"It was only for a second. It's not something I'd do twice." It was true. It did, on a certain level, make him feel kinda gross. Now, if it was a consensual sort of thing, and anyone but Stanley, then that would be a different story.

“I-” She looked away from her phone, then back at him, then back away. “I- I’m going to preface this by saying that I’m not afraid of you.”

"You… You know I wouldn't do anything like that to you, right?"

“I- I- I” Her voice shook, “I know. I know. I know you wouldn’t. But- but- You-” She paused, shaking her head, “I know you wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” she said with more certainty.

"And I mean it when I say it was a one time thing with that. It made me feel gross."

She looked at him, then looked away. Hey gray bruise was extremely visible given the pallor from the fact that he’s literally just made her sick. “I appreciate that. I do. And I believe you. I believe you. But, um, I’m, like, scared? Not of you. But, like, I was- when he made me, I- when she brought me to life, she did it so- Well, I- I had to go to- to Hecate to-” She was shaking. She looked at him to see if he was following.

His eyebrows knit together. He. Definitely fucked up this time.

"... I'm listening."

“I’m glad. I’m glad. Um-” She looked at the ceiling, “Well-” her voice dropped, “Can you please make sure he is in his room and not where he can hear us? Don’t take me off of speaker I want to- I want to see you- I- Do you have headphones? Braig?”

"I don't- Give me one second." Xigbar set the phone down, camera facing the ceiling. He poked his head out the door to make sure Stanley was gone, then closed it for good measure. "He's gone. I closed the door, too."

“Thank you. Thank you.” She sighed, “Hold on, I’m gonna- Hold on.” She stood up and clinked out of the bathroom. Xigbar got a really good look at the floor.

Then he heard cloth rustling, saw flashes of white fabric- when the camera steadied, he was looking at Showie, who had apparently curled up in bed.

“Okay. Okay. Still hear me?”

"Y-Yeah. I hear you."

“Okay. Okay.” she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, “Okay. Hi, Braig. Okay.” she opened her eyes, but didn’t look at the camera, “Whe- I trust you. When she brought me to-” she paused. “There’s a reason why you were able to- I mean, when you made the- the deal? With-? There’s a reason why that appealed to him. He- he’s not expecting that out of nowhere. He used to have it. Me. It.” She glanced at him, then away, “Yeah? Following?”

"Yeah… I'm still with you, Doll." Oh he fucked up fucked up.

“I was- I had- I guess we’ve been calling them ‘Will Issues’? And- and it was as soon as I was created, yeah?”

"Did- Have I-? With you-?" That was worrying. That was real fuckin' worrying.

“N- no, Braig, at- at least I don’t think so. I’m just worried. Not that- okay-. Okay. Back on track.” She closed her eyes, “She created me with will issues, but, like, a ‘feature’, not a bug. I think it was to protect the other- the real women, in the village, from- from him. But, see, when she- he didn’t want a statue, yeah? He wanted a human woman? I say that loosely. He wanted a shell of a human woman? Yeah? Following?”

"... Everything I hear about this guy makes me want to kill him more." He let out a breath. "Go on."

“Okay. Okay. Well, he got one. And, like, I stayed that way? But didn’t age. But I stayed that way? And, well, okay, remember the Nobody conversation?”

"... Yeah, I remember it." Not his greatest moment. Let's go with that.

“And the questions afterward? Where I just said shit?”

"Yeah?" He decided against commenting that she was doing that a lot lately. Not a good addition to the conversation, Xigbar.

“Well, one night, I ran away, and there were stars and the milky way and ancient greece and forests and it was winter. And I was trying to circle around to telling you that two nights ago but it didn’t happen. Anyway I went outside to look at the stars and then I saw the forest and- okay, he was like 90 when this happened- and then I looked at the moon, and I- I felt something? Like a tug? And for a second, just a second, he didn’t have that control over me? It was like Artemis- the goddess, not the white boy, though the white boy is named after the goddess- had, like, taken pity, and gave me a moment of clarity. And I ran. Like, right into the woods, and I just kept going. And eventually, like, years later it felt like, and- and the whole time I was trying to resist going back, because I loved him, because I was made to love him, to obey him, and I disobeyed by running- gods, Braig the amount of times I almost doubled back-” She paused, “Still following?”

"I'm still following."

“Good, good,” She sounded like she was calming down. “Good. Well, eventually, I found Hecate. She’s a goddess, she’s associated with Artemis, in a way or two, and, well, I asked her for help. And she did. Help, that is. And she broke the spell, the charm- on me, she broke it. But it was, like, intrinsic. So I had- to get rid of it, I had to give a part of myself up. I- I told you this before, by the fridge, yeah? And you said you’d bring hot sauce? Because she partially turned me back into ivory. That’s what it took to- to get rid of the will issues, and the being in love with him.” She glanced at him- silently asking, again, if he was following.

"Does it- can it come back?" PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK SAY NO.

“I don’t know,” She said softly, “I don’t know. I- I- Honestly, I thought the ‘being in love’ part couldn’t come back, either, I thought that was gone for good, but I guess not,” She turned to face the ceiling, laying on her back, “I don’t know if it can come back. I’ll let you know. I’ll let you know.”

"Okay… Yeah. Okay." This solidified it. Motherfucker was gonna die as soon as the opportunity arose. Obviously, Xigbar couldn't kill him now, for a number of reasons, but… He had the FOMB person. They owed him one.

“Okay,” She said, “Okay.”

She was silent for a moment.

“Are you mad at me?”

"What? Showie. Doll. Why would I be mad at you for shit that wasn't your fault?"

“I yelled at you.”

"Doll, I-" Xigbar shook his head. "You really think something small like that would piss me off?"

She was quiet for a while. She glanced at him, then looked back at the ceiling. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. Then, “I’m not mad at you, either, by the way.”

"... I'm glad." That felt better, at least. "You do know I really would not have done that twice, right?" Maybe he was still a little worried. Maybe.

“Yeah,” She said, calm, “I know. You’re not like that.”

"Yeah…" It was a relief to hear that from her. There was still so much she didn't know- So much that would help fix (or if not fix, at least soften the blow) some things he'd done. "You…" his voice lightened. Possibly by force. "At this point, you know me better than anyone else. Wouldn't tell just anyone all the shit I aired out to you. No way, as if."

She glanced at him with half a smile, then her expression changed. Turned serious. Then she looked away, back at the ceiling.

"... You okay?"

“Of course. I’m fine.” she said, maybe a little too quickly, “It’s nothing. For real.”

"I'm not gonna make you talk, but if there's something I can do…?" He was worried again. Dang it.

“No, no,” She said, “I’m not upse- well, okay, I’m shaken, sure, but that’s- that’s not what-” She paused, then said, “It’s just-” Glanced at him, then away, “Curiosity, I guess. None of my business, though. Not asking.”

"Oh, well now you gotta tell me. I'm dyin' here." Please let her hear the more playful tone here.

“It’s- I don’t-” She glanced at him, hesitated, then turned back on her side, facing the phone, “Okay. You sure? They’re You questions.”

"Implying I don't talk about myself every chance I get." He doesn't. But the joke is still there.

“I-” She hesitated, “I have two, I guess. Two basic ones, and then they branch into a bunch of smaller ones, but- I- I can’t un-ask them, so- so I need you to be sure, and if not, I’ll just not say anything until when or if you decide to tell me. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

"Doll. Come on. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

“I-” She winced, “I may or may not have looked your name up on tumblr. Sorry-” She said, suddenly looking very nervous, “Sorry.”

"You didn't see my dick did you-"

That got a laugh.

“No! No,” she said, the smile quickly dying back, “No, nothing like that. Are you sure I can ask the questions? Last chance?”

"I think if I'm on the edge of my seat any more, I'll fall right off." Thank fuck though. The tumblr people were. Clearly he made them feel some type of way.

“Well-” she said, looking like she was debating something in her head, “Okay. Okay. Yeah. I sort of, well, I saw a video. And a picture. And, well, I don’t know where they came from, but- but you were there, and you looked different.”

"Okay…? What's your point, doll?"

“Well, you had both eyes, and no scar. And shorter hair. All one color. Brown eyes, too. What- what changed?” She winced away from the phone slightly, “If I can ask?”

"Oh." He laughed. "You made that sound way worse- It's nothing big. That's just how I looked like, over a decade ago. I just aged- this body is like, in its 50's. … Also kinda. Had part of a guy's heart implanted in me, but the only real changes were cosmetic- I'm still the same me I've always been." It was a relief that's all she was asking.

“I-” she looked at him, “His-” she paused, “That- okay, so I did mention I saw a video?”

"Yeah, why?" A little weird there was some kind of video of him floating around, but it wouldn't be the first time. He just hoped this time he was sober in it.

“Well, I kind of saw this guy- he had, like, a keyblade? And his name, I think, was, maybe, Terra? Does that- am I right? Ring a bell?”

"Yeah… That fuckin' guy." He shook his head. "Did someone film me getting shot in the face? What the hell?"

“I think so. I think so. And I- the- the guy- you said you got part of a guy’s heart implanted? Was it the guy that was tied up on the pillar? I saw him threaten you. I- I…”

"That's him, alright." Fucking Xehanort. "Yeah, no, he's the worst. I only worked for him to get my keyblade back. Dude took forever to die, though. Didn't sign up to lose an eye." He grumbled the last bit to himself.

“So I heard. Then he threatened you.” She sounded concerned, “Is he- like, dead? Or?”

"He'd better be dead. I'm sick of his nonsense." Xigbar shrugged. "But even if he isn't, I got what I wanted from him. Don't care what he does now."

“Okay. Okay. Did you have the space powers back then? You kind of bounced away at the end.”

"Kinda? They were a lot weaker then. Getting turned into a Nobody really amped them up."

She nodded. Then hesitated. “I did have two questions. You can stop me now, though, if- if you don’t want me to ask the other one.”

"Go on, shoot. If this is what you consider invasive, the other one will be no problem."

“Well, I have no metric on what is and isn’t invasive. I- I don’t know. Are you sure?”

"It can't be that bad. Come on, hit me."

“Well, alright,” She said, “As I was scrolling- stop me at any time- I noticed- posts about you were generally tagged with a few names. Which makes sense.”

"Okay? Yeah, I mean- I've got a few."

“Well I recognized most of them. Didn’t think much of the third one. Then I saw a comic. Of you. Like, on a balcony.”

"I've seen a few balconies in my lifetime, yeah."

“And there was this, like, this person? Who came out to talk to you?”

"Just- Spit it out, Doll." There wasn't any kind of annoyance or anything in his tone. Just general confusion.

“He called you Luxu?” She winced away from the screen.

What.

The Fuck.

"... What?" Xigbar's stomach dropped 6 feet under. How the absolute Kentucky fried fuck did anyone know that name. "I'm not mad- just- What did you say?"

“I’m sorry!” She looked away from the phone, “I can see that I shouldn’t have asked that. Sor-”

"Doll- Doll- I'm not mad. I'm not. It's okay. I'm just- There is no way anyone should know that name. It's been buried for centuries-"

He'd intentionally stopped using it, after all. Made sure no record of it remained. All that was left of it was in memories of people that knew him all those years ago, and they weren't around to spill the beans.

So who the fuck knew about it.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” She said, then paused, “It’s kind of- I mean, it was, like, tagged in a lot of posts?” She winced, “Like along with Xigbar and Braig, in almost everything. Saw some things I don’t understand.”

"What do you mean it was tagged in a lot of posts?!" One hand gripped onto his hair. His ponytail was fucked, for sure. "I'm not mad at you. I'm not. But what the fuck-"

“If it helps! If it helps, you said the worlds were, like, different and separate, yeah? I don’t think anyone you know, anyone from the worlds you usually go to, I don't think they know.”

"Still- I'm-" Fuck it. Begone hair tie. This is beyond a hair tie situation. Who cares if his hair was in his eye now. "... Only a handful of people ever knew that name. It's the one the Master gave me."

“I’m so sorry,” She said, sounding more worried than scared, “I- I’m sorry.” Less scared apology and more ‘my condolences’.

"... I don't… I don't know how anyone could've found that out. None of the people that knew it are around. It was all the way back before I even started bodysnatching people." He paused. "You know… I never even wanted to start doing that? Seemed like… fuck if I know. Just. Heinous, I guess. I was a weenie back then. Now here we are. I wear people's skin like it's nothing and kill for kicks."

She was silent, looking at him like she was considering something. She must have filed it away for later, though, because she didn’t ask.

She nodded, “I- I can see how that would get to you.”

"It's. A lot. Easier than it used to be, though. You do this shit long enough, and… Well. It doesn't get to you as bad." He almost wanted to offer to teach her how. Didn't seem like something she would want. At least, not right now.

She nodded, looking at him with something like sympathy. She brought the phone a little closer to her and sort of nestled into her bed.

"... I'm still not a meow meow."

“I was talking about Cas and Bucky then,” She said, her voice faintly fond, “But okay.”

A pause.

“Are we all done with questions? Do I stop now? No more?” she asked him.

"If you don't want to ask any more, then yeah. But nothing – nothing – can hit that hard."

She tilted her head, “Even if it was from the same comic?”

"Let me put it this way – hearing you say that name," He pointedly did not say Luxu, "was the mental equivalent of getting a nuke dropped directly onto my face. There's nothing that can hit harder." He took a breath. "Look- I'm calm. I'm okay. You're okay."

She was quiet for a moment- not hesitating, just quiet- he could see the difference.

She said, “The guy, in the comic, who said it- he was, like, wearing an animal mask? I think it was, like, a unicorn or a fox or something. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

"... Ira. At least it wasn't some rando." He shook his head. "I know him. He was supposed to be the leader of the Master's apprentices- Or, at least, their little group. I was in a completely different category. A good guy, but too focused on rules for my taste."

She nodded, as if prompting him on.

"I didn't mix with them much. Had my own thing going on, y'know? One of these days, I'm gonna have to bring them up to the future, though. Well. By 'future' I mean 'now'. It's the next thing I have to do."

“Is that the- you mentioned earlier, you needed to see something through?”

"It's a part of it, yeah. I bring them up, later I bring the Master up, it's a whole thing." He waved it off nonchalantly. "It's fine."

She nodded, just sort of looking at him, “I see.”

"You don't believe it's fine, do you." He raised an eyebrow. "It's not- It's whatever. I'll probably get in some trouble for getting sidetracked, but who cares? I'm having fun."

Small smile. Then she was quiet for a while. Just kind of looking at him.

"... You okay, doll?"

“Yeah. I’m fine.” She said, then after a moment, “Um… Have I already asked you what a kingdom hearts is?”

"No, that's not one you've sprung on me yet." He laughed. Thank fuck the energy from earlier was gone. He could freak out more later. Privately. Maybe not break shit this time? It was hard enough stepping around all the broken shit in the apartment as it was. "Kingdom Hearts is… Both a place and a concept. It's kind of like… How do I put this. If it can be summoned, then the person that does it can completely rewrite the universe. Not just the world. They could essentially become God. Not a god. But like, top of the food chain. Completely all powerful. Literally writes the rules of the universe type deal."

She tilted her head, “And someone tried that? The ‘old coot’ bitch?”

"Yeah, Xehanort. He came the closest I've just about ever seen to actually doing it. Actually summoned it and everything. Got stopped before he could do anything, though. … Not that I even really got to see the show. I got killed before then."

Frown. Worried frown.

"I got better."

“I can see that. I- you were involved?”

"Like I said, I worked for him. Ended up as his right hand for a while. Didn't want to get involved, he was way more fun to be around when he was younger, but he had something I wanted. Had to get it."

“The keyblade. His, specifically? Earlier you said ‘get it back’.”

"Yeah." He nodded. "It's my keyblade, actually. Part of my job was to pass it down through the generations, make sure it saw the sights. But I needed it back."

She nodded, “To- to bring the mask people forward? Or no?”

"Yeah, that's the short of it. Needed it and the Box. … Can't tell you what's going on with that. Like. Actually. I'd be in real trouble then."

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” She said. And then, after a moment, “You know, I saw another use of the term ‘Kingdom Hearts’.”

"If you say video game I'm hanging up-"

“Okay, okay,” She smiled, “Moving on, then. Do you have any questions? I ask so much about you.”

"I do have an interesting life." He grinned at her. "Hm- I guess… What were you doing? Like before the tournament? I've got ancient history and current history, but 2,000 ish years is a pretty big gap in your resumé."

“Well, I was studying magic under Hecate, for most of that. On and off. Lived in the woods for a while. Befriended a weird deer who turned out to be a guy. Bounced around Europe for a little while before the middle ages hit. Back when worship of the gods I’m familiar with was wider spread, I could get away with being seen. That changed, though,” she waved her hand around a little as she talked, “Before that, I was in Egypt for a while, but it was so hot there. Horus- he’s a god- I talked to him, he wanted to know about how magic flowed through organic materials- his hands are prosthetics and he wanted to know if there was a better material than just wood. There was. It’s ivory. Um… then, after the fall of the roman empire- the real one, not the fake one that kept pretending for, like, several hundred years- I had to stay more hidden. That’s where the cloak first came in.”

"Couldn't just say you were an albino vampire?" Xigbar joked. "I bet someone would've bought it."

“Yeah, because being a vampire was so much safer during the witch hunts,” She smiled.

"Make 'em fear you. You're a bad bitch. Girlboss it up."

She raised an eyebrow, “I don’t have the confidence for that.”

"Mm… Skill issue."

She let out a laugh, “Yeah, okay, fine. But you can’t blame me.”

"Yeah, guess not. Glad you're cool now, though. Messing with you before we teamed up wouldn't have been nearly as fun if you weren't."

“Well,” She said, “This confidence… it’s borrowed.” Her tone turned a little sad, “I’m- I mean, you know who I am, and-” She glanced in the direction of the door out of the apartment, “You know. But no one else does. The kins? They’d eat me alive if they knew.”

"We need to get you a therapist."

“Ha! My trust issues are too powerful!” She said jokingly.

"Damn, and you still picked me. You need higher standards, doll." Xigbar snickered to himself. It was pretty obvious why he'd said that, of course. Former cult member, current cult member, literally kills people…. Yeah.

“I’m playing 4d chess with my choice here, Braig. If you don’t get it I’m afraid I can’t help you,” She grinned.

"Yeah, sure. That's why I got picked. And you definitely weren't ogling me earlier, either." He grinned right back at her. "What, like it when my hair is down, or something?"

“Just remembering an interesting piece of fanart I saw,” she said teasingly.

"Uh huh, sure. I definitely believe that. I'd wink if I could right now."

“Skill issue. If I had one eye, I’d still be able to wink.”

"Whatever. You just want a peek under the eyepatch." He was joking of course, but he could still be dramatic. "I see right through you, doll."

“With a strong enough backlight, maybe. Ivory’s got a little translucence to it.”

"I swear I'm gonna put you on the ceiling." His words had no bite to them. An empty threat, unless she actually wanted to get ceilinged.

She cackled, “What does that even mean?” She took a moment, appeared to think of a joke in her head, and then discarded it.

"Means exactly what it sounds like." He grinned. The camera shifted, and suddenly it was pointed at the ground. 20 feet down. On the edges of the screen, locks of his hair could be seen dangling toward the ground. "Put you on the ceiling. Gravity powers, remember?"

“Oh, I remember,” She smiled, “That looks fun, actually. Is it?”

"It's nice. People leave me alone, back doesn't hurt as much, y'know. The little things. I shoot better upside down, too."

“Nice,” she said, “Can you- can you teleport between worlds, or is there, like, a thing you need?”

"Can't go that far." Xigbar shook his head. He could feel his hair move. … Goddamn it's been a while since he left it down. "Not on my own, at least. I use these things called dark corridors- they're like. Rips in the fabric of the Space Between. If that makes sense- I don't know how else to explain it."

She frowned, “Dark Corridors? Is that like-” She thought for a moment, “Braig, are you sure you’re not some kind of demigod? That sounds like Shadow Travel, or if not that, the portals Egyptian gods can make. Horus came through one when he came to ask about my ivory.”

"I'm sure- It's a Nobody thing. Unless every Nobody ever is the same kind of demigod, it's unrelated. It's like. Getting a piercing. Hollow needle through flesh, and all that."

“Hmm,” She tilted her head, “I guess Nobodies are, like, transitional creatures, right? You’re some place in between? I could see something like that being somehow sacred to Janus, I suppose. God of doorways, crossroads, in betweens… but i’m just talking recreationally. I really don’t know.”

"'Transitional creatures', huh? Well, I guess I've never really been cis, so that checks out." There was no possible way in hell he would've avoided making some kind of gender joke. Showie walked right into it. "Janus, though… The name rings a bell, but nothing concrete."

“Well I mentioned him in an earlier conversation, so maybe that’s it? I asked you if you were a Janus kid and you told me I needed to get some sleep.”

"Oh, yeah. The doors thing. But nah, I meant from before. He Roman or something? The Master had a thing for Latin."

“Yes, he is! He’s one of the few Roman gods with no Greek equivalent. He has a bit of an overlap with Hecate, though, which is why I’m familiar.”

"Huh. Still think the idea of me being some kind of demigod is crazy, though. Don't even remember anything from before He found me. For all I know, he could've just straight up made me. Fuckin'. Homunculus Xigbar."

“Well,” She said, “That wouldn’t- the not knowing thing- that wouldn’t be unusual. As well as the memory gap. Stop me if you don’t want to hear this?”

"Eh, it's not the worst thing I've ever heard. Doesn't mean I gotta believe it, though."

“Of course not,” She said, “But. It wouldn’t be entirely unheard of or even unusual for you to have just appeared, were you a demigod. Athena and Hephestus, they had a kid- I say ‘had’ loosely- when a handkerchief with some of her blood and some of his sweat was tossed to earth. The majority of Athena’s kids are simply created from her mind. Dionysius, back when he was still mortal? His mother was incinerated around him and he spent the rest of his time in Zeus’s thigh. And I, of course, was carved and brought to life by Aphrodite. And I remember nothing before then, obviously.”

"Somehow," He drawled, leaning his head back to stare at the floor, "that makes the idea of being made in a test tube seem normal."

“It certainly does,” She sighed, “And- well- it’s not uncommon for the gods to just never say anything. Percy- you know Percy- he turned down the offer of immortality the gods extended to him and instead told them to claim their children. The Hermes cabin used to be full before he made that deal. Some children just never knew. If Aphrodite hadn’t been there to bring me to life, I certainly would have never known. I’m not saying this is right, I’m just saying it’s possible.”

"Eh, maybe. Doesn't really change anything, though." He waved a hand. "Gone this long without that idea."

“Of course. Yeah, day to day it’s pretty irrelevant. Only really comes into play when you’re being attacked by monsters. Which I don’t think can get to your set of worlds? Except maybe the Heracles one, and even then, those are nerfed and aren’t on the hunt for demigods specifically. So yes, largely irrelevant.”

Xigbar fell silent. Not in a bad way. Just… quiet. Enjoying her company.

"... I like being around you."

She smiled. “I like being around you, too, Braig.”

"Still not letting you talk me into getting a dog, though."

“Oh, come on!” She said, smiling, “Dogs like me. Also they’re the best, and also they are associated with Hecate so having one would make my magic stronger. And also please.”

"I see what you're saying, but let me raise a point: cats soft and purrbabies. Also flufy."

“Dogs are soft and fluffy, too, and they can play rambunctiously. I can take them for a run in the woods. A cat would simply decimate the local ecosystem.”

"Cats can be trained. I've done it."

“But dogs can look far scarier than cats can. And be more dangerous. Which isn’t really a factor except that that’s fun.”

"Aw, am I not scary enough for you?" He teased.

She raised an eyebrow, “Do-” A boom sounded from the other end of the line. She looked over to where he thought her window might be in alarm.

“Uhhh-” She said, getting to her feet and rushing over to the window, “Holy shit. Talk later, okay?”

"Doll? What happened?" What the FUCK was that??? "Are you oka-"

The line went dead.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 17

Xigbar brought the cloak this time. Leaving it behind before was a mistake he wouldn't make twice. Blanket was NOT fuckin' enough.

He hauled the last of the bodies up from the sort of. Morgue/freezer setup Showie had up to the makeshift lab he'd put together under the Kins Storage. He didn't know how far underground he was, but it had to be pretty deep. All the better for human experimentation, he supposed. Not like that's an above ground activity.

He dialed her number on his phone, and she picked up instantly.

“Hey.” She said.

"Hey, doll. Finally got all the bodies down here."

“Great. And you brought the cloak?”

" Yeah. Not doing this without it again. The blanket was nowhere near enough."

“ Ha-ha. Got you to admit you didn’t bring the cloak last time even though you said you did.”

"Boooooooo. You suck. Run me through the steps again?"

“You got the body all laid out, yeah?”

"Well. More or less. Kinda just flopped. Carrying a bunch of bodies down here is hard work, okay? Leave me alone." He didn't mean it do NOT leave him alone.

“Okay, okay. Pick one and get it in a separate area. For this experiment we’re gonna revive them over and over and over to see what happens. Run your choice by me, though. No one valuable.”

"Well, the options today are…" He checked the bodies. "Jeremy Heere, Sasha Waybright, Default Mii, Qifrey, and Stede Bonnet. Figured it'd be a good idea to start with the freshest ones."

“Ooooh-kay,” She said, and he heard a tapping noise.

"What's that sound?" He asked.

“Stanley brought me my laptop! I’m taking notes!” Her voice sounded bright. “Anyway, let’s start with,,,,, Stede. Not a teenager and not a non-human. Looking at his historical file there is little of value to lose, memory wise. Additionally, he was in team We Cause Problems.”

"Damn, alright. So I just kill and revive him over and over? How many times, do you think?"

“Take notes each time, maybe ask a set of questions? Record his responses as you go. Maybe,,,, Do you know where you are, do you know who i am, do you know who you are, etc? And keep an eye on his physical form as well. Uh- the kins, they put everyone in hospital gowns, yes?”

"Yeah, they're in the hospital gowns." He looked over the bodies and shook his head in disappointment. "Man, I was hoping Sasha was gonna win that round. I like her. Kid's got guts."

“Well, nothings permanent when you have necromancy!” She said brightly. “We can exclude her from the subject pool and- oh, here’s an idea. Start with her, she’ll be our control. Bring her back once and then set her aside.”

"Works for me." Xigbar grinned. "Perks of being named vice showrunner, huh?" He pulled Sasha aside and set her up to be resurrected.

“Oh, definitely. When this is through we can make you a bracket and switch places.”

"I could make you election fraud queen- we can have matching sashes."

“Maybe that’ll happen in the couple battle? That tournament runner and I had a very nice chat just last night.”

"Ha- why does that make me nervous?" He pulled on the cloak. Gonna remember that every goddamn time now. Hell, he even brought a couple spares.

"Going silent for a minute. Gotta do the thing." He set up the sigil and then lit it. He heard Showie quietly counting down on the other end of the line.

“Okay, get ready~” She said.

The room filled with frigid wind. Most of which went around the cloak, like it had a- No Shit, Xigbar, of course it had a force field. Not like that was Showie’s specialty or anything.

She waited a few more seconds until the real cold hit, then said, “Well, it probably makes you nervous because we were talking about you!”

" You wha-" the words were stolen from his lungs when the Real cold hit. Damn you, Showie. Why does he even work for you. You suck.

“Oh, it was nothing bad , ” She said, and he could hear her grin. “ 15 more seconds until Sasha begins moving!”

"Then why did you say it like that?!" Oh. Cheat code. Breathe THROUGH the cloak. The air is still cold, but it doesn't straight up hurt like that.

“Say it like what?” She said innocently.

Sasha begin to writhe, 15 seconds after that, the air returned to normal and she sat up, gasping.

“The questions,” She reminded him. As if he needed reminding.

"Swear to god, I'm gonna-" Ough. This woman. Xigbar cleared his throat. He grabbed his notepad off the table. "Hey, kid. Can you tell me who you are?"

"S-Sasha Waybright," she responded. Still seeming a bit out of it. Xigbar wrote it all down, the name and her condition.

"And do you know where you are?"

"It was…" Sasha put her face in her hand, like she had a migraine. "Some kind of tournament. White Boy Bracket? I was in a round and-" she looked up, pale. "I died ?"

"Sure did, kiddo. But hey, who cares, right? Not like you're still dead!" Never talk to children again.

“That was a bit insensitive,” She said, “Check her physical condition? Mark down any changes you can see and then ask her if anything feels different.”

"Hi, yeah, no ?" Sasha snapped, shakily getting to her feet. "No one's checking any of my physical conditions , thanks."

"Kid, chill. You're not getting touched. Just trying to make sure you didn't get fucked up in the resurrection, like some people. One guy didn't have a mouth for a while."

Sasha didn't look convinced. Still, she held her arms out in a T and turned.

"Great. Thanks. Not seeing anything unusual."

"Yeah, no, I could've told you that."

“I did say to ask her.” Showie said.

"Yeah, well, nothing's weird." Sasha rolled her eyes.

"See what I mean?" Xigbar laughed. "The kid's got some balls ! Fuckin' love that! Just mouthing off to the Showrunner like it's no biggie!"

“Yeah, well,” Showie said, “There should be a room off to the side. New clothes, food, place to rest. Put her there.”Xigbar gestured with his head the direction she was supposed to go in. Sasha rolled her eyes again, but went into the designated room.

“Alright,” Showie said, “ Pretty successful control. Personality seemed intact, yes? ”

"Most personality I've seen from a kid her age in a while." When it came to personality, Roxas and Xion were Not It. At least, not for a while.

“Oh, you should meet Annabeth. Percy, too. But they’re both solidly off limits. If Percy lost, I think I’d rig it. Anyway, onto Stede.”

"Right. So, rinse and repeat with what happened with Sasha, then just kill him again? Just to confirm."

“Yes. Avoid too much blood loss or head trauma, though, Blood loss would only frighten the others once it was their turn. Head trauma could muddy the results.”

"Cauterizing shot through the heart. Got it."

She hummed in agreement. He reset the ritual, this time using Stede, and relit it. Time for cold again. "So if the conversation wasn't 'that bad', then why did you say I should be nervous?" He chuckled.

A sort of evil giggle, “Oh, you don’t need to be nervous.”

Chuckle revoked.

"Okay, now I am nervous."

“No, no it’s fine ! We just- you know, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to, so we talked! And it was fine! Now, the cold.”

He was ready this time.

"... You can talk to me-" That came out way more pitiful than he meant. Good job beating the poor little meow meow allegations, Xigbar.

“ Not about this, ” She laughed, “Anyway, did you put all of Team We Cause Problems into the match? Sasha, Stede- Virgil?”

"Nah, just Sasha and Stede. If I'm going purple, it's gonna be that Afton guy."

“ Oooooh ,” She said, “Oh, the effects of degradation on him would be fascinating . You know he’s already a living rotting corpse? That’s why he’s purple, he’s decayed! We might even do him a favor, reviving him. Set him right.”

"You want me to save him for when you get back, then? So you can see?"

“Hmm. Yes.” She sounded pleased, “ It'll be interesting. He moving now?”

"Yeah, doin' the floppy thing." Don't make a dick joke. Don't make a dick joke. Don't make a dick joke.

“ Pfft ,” She laughed, “ You know what else?”

"What? Did you just-?!"

“Oh, you know! Ah! He awakens!” She said, apparently she had the timing memorized, because Stede did, in fact, Awaken.

"Hang on- did you seriously just make a dick joke-"

“You walked right into it! Now, pay attention to our guest.”

Dear fucking god he was in love.

"Right, ah-" he cleared his throat, and rattled off the questions.

When Stede answered accordingly, Xigbar wrote everything down. Then, without giving him a chance to react, shot him right through the heart. Stede was dead before he hit the ground, and not a single drop of blood spilled. Goddamn he's good.

"Goddamn, I'm good."

“Yeah, yeah. Bring him back. Pretend like the first one didn’t happen, but ask him if he’s seen you recently.”

"Alright, fine."

Run through of the ritual again. Did it Have to be this cold? There is no reason anything should be this cold. Christmastown wasn't even this cold. Stede still answered appropriately. Seemed a little frightened.

Now for the good question.

"Have you seen me at all recently?"

"Y-yes, you just shot me."

"Oh, did I? My bad."

Bang.

Xigbar laughed like it was the best joke he'd seen in forever. It kinda was. I mean, the look on that guy's face? Absolutely priceless.

“Okay, okay, look him over for non-arrowgun damage and then bring him back,” She said, trying not to laugh, “ Just turn him over with your foot or something.”

"Alright, alright, just- give me a second-" He needed to calm down. " Fuck , I wish you were here. You should've seen his face when I shot him!"

“ I wish we could do video call, but then-” She paused, “ But then tu-sais-qui would be able to hear you. And I don't mean, you know. Mon ex-mari. If only I had headphones.”

"Ah, well. When you're here, we can do this again."

Xigbar nudged Stede over, looking him over for wounds. "Well… He's missing an eyebrow, but nothing else."

“Oh, weird. That’s new. Mark it down- that’s near the head, so. Hm. Carry on.”

"Right."

Ran through it again. Still cold. Less bad though. Getting used to it?

From the get go, Stede looked scared. Especially once he laid eyes on Xigbar. Good. Be afraid. Xigbar had barely even opened his mouth before the guy took off running. He made it past him, but not much farther before he slipped and fell. In a moment of total clarity and definitely not panic, Xigbar may have. Accidentally slipped and shot Stede perfectly through the heart again. Whoopsie.

"Oops."

“What happened?”

"So. Totally normal, but uh- I may have jumped the gun. Literally. He tried to make a run for it. Knee jerk reaction, I killed him again."

“Oh. Well. Try not to do that,” She didn’t sound mad, “But we have the answer to at least one question. He definitely remembered you.”

"Tell me about it." Xigbar kicked the body- wait. No wonder he fell. "Dude's got two left feet. No wonder he ate floor."

“What, literally? Bizarre. I wonder if it’s just the degradation or if it’s how soon they’re happening, one after the other. Uh, hm. How unethical are we willing to get?”

"Doll, I'm willing to do a lot more than you'll make me. I'm ready to get downright heinous in here."

“Nothing heinous, just… perhaps a bit psychologically cruel? It would be interesting to see what would happen if we spaced the deaths out a little more. Once a day? Once a week? But I- I wouldn’t want to leave them in that sort of consistent, unending fear. Can you kill subtly? I don’t want them to see it coming. Perhaps we can hook them up to some sort of drip? We do have a hospital room adjacent to the lab… we could tell them that they’re hurt, that it’s a sedative? Pretend they’re in a hospital, so they don’t run? And of course I would work to undo any degradation they experienced once I got back.”

"... Good fucking lord." He needed a second. "You have no idea how hot that was, oh my god. "

“W-well now I’m worried, was that worse than just killing them? I don’t want them to, like, sit in the fear!”

"No, no, you're fine. Just. Wow. I wanna study your brain." And also maybe. Yeah. Please laugh .

Small laugh, “That’s not very reassuring. I-is that a good idea or should we think of something else? Or, in either case, who should it be? Our test subject I mean.”

“Hm,” He checked his notes,  “Washington?”

“Oooh, yes . I wouldn’t mind getting unethical with that creep. That came out wrong.”

" HA! You can get unethical with me anytime." The floodgates are open. Here come the sex jokes.

“Just revive him! ” She said, laughing, “We can do this later!”

#### Cost of Death Chapter 13 [file analysis]

The Narrator had fallen asleep around… three or four hours ago. Stanley had rested on the proctor’s chest, sitting near to the glowing core in the center of his torso, until Narry had drifted off into his incorporeal voice-form. He only did that when he was really tired. Which made sense. He’d been disconnected for… a while now.

Stanley himself wasn’t quite tired, but he was drained. A lot of shit had happened! Mostly with his boyfriend. But still! He’d shot someone.

Oh. Speaking of.

The Ex was… looking at him again. Creepy.

He opened his mouth, and in a very quiet manner, spoke.

“Come to me, you want me, you need to be at my conduct.”

Stanley felt an electric sort of pain course through his body as he stared at the man. No. No. He did not want to follow him.

And yet, his legs walked nearer.

“What was that?” {SCEPTER} said, her voice icy. She was holding her phone up to her ear– she’d been talking to Xigbar for the entire round.

“Quiet.” The Ex murmured, as he gripped at Stanleys waist and held him close– leveraging his body as a sort of shield.

“You don’t want to– AUGH!”

{SCEPTER}’s leg shot out like a bullet, connecting with her Ex’s kneecap– the broken one– and [Name Redacted] went down. He smacked his face on Stanley’s knee on his way to the floor, and a splatter of blood hit Stanley’s face.

“I asked you what that was!” She sounded furious.

“He needs to be claimed.” [Name Redacted] wheezed.

“Stanley, he’s wrong,” She said.

“I am trying to help you.” he hissed at Stanley. “You-”

“Don’t listen to him! He is not trying to help you. Stanley, if you-”

“-need to heed my word–”

“IF YOU WANT TO, COME WITH ME TO MY APARTMENT-”

“-so as to remain well–”

She kicked him in the face, directly in the mouth. He saw blood spurt from his gums and several teeth went flying.

“Stanley, come with me.” She grabbed his wrist and-

“Help me. She’s hurting me, just help me.”

“He doesn’t need your help, Stanley, he’s an abuser and a dick. And pathetic. And lame. I’m phrasing these as commands to counteract his but actually of all it’s true. Come with me to my apartment, you can stay with me until the Narrator comes back. Let’s go.” She said, very assertively.

She pulled on his wrist, tinking off down the hall.

Stanley clutched at his head and fell to the ground, screaming silently in pain.

He curled inward on himself, and his eyes dimmed.

Closed.

[FILE.427-QUARANTINED]

#### Like A Statue Chapter 7

“Augh- fuck ,” She said, picking him up and putting him over her shoulder, “Br- Xigbar, I think I fucked him up. He’s- fuck!”

" Slow down, doll. Breathe. What happened? "

“I- well, first, I’m getting him out of here.” She took off down the hall at speed, getting to her apartment, unlocking the door, relocking the door, moving the nightstand, etc etc etc.

“I- Mr. Small Dick and I gave differing commands, like, a lot of differing commands- and he fell the fuck over!” She said, moving over to the bed and gently setting him down, “I think he’s, like, fucked up? He passed out at least .”

" Wait. Was he-? He was supposed to wait for me before he tried any shit! " Braig hissed. " Sorry, I know, not the issue right now- Just. Is he actively like. Bleeding or anything? Can he bleed? He's got some weird ass physics, I can't make heads or tails of 'em- Give me a second." There was the sound of his arrowgun firing. " I had to put down one of the test subjects- So I can actually focus on this."

“Okay, um- he’s not bleeding- at least I don’t think he is, I think that’s [Name Redacted]’s blood- I don’t know if he can bleed? I haven’t injured him? He;s not bleeding, he just sort of- he keeled over!” She felt his forehead with the back of her hand- “Ah! Braig, he’s cold! Like, like room temp cold, and cooling-” She felt under his nose, “Fuck! He’s not breathing! Does he breathe? You’ve spent more time with him than me, does he breathe?!” Her voice was teetering on hysterical. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, was he dead?! Did she kill him?! Did she kill Stanley? She didn’t have her tools! And the full moon was ages away, what if Stanley was dead and she didn’t have her tools and Braig got here too late for him to-

" Shit- I don't think so? I haven't heard him breathe before- Just. Step away from him for a second. Getting all worked up right now isn't going to help." Braig let out a breath. " I don't think he can actually die? I think he said something that implied that once. Maybe just… Leave him be for a while. See if anything changes."

“Leave him be?! Braig, he- what if he-” She took a shaky breath- not because she was calming down, but because that was the only kind of breath she could take, “I don’t have my tools! I don’t- I can’t bring him back! Once you get here it might be too late! I- I- fuck! ”

She ran over to her bag, frantically looking through it, “Something. Something. There has to be something -”

" I don't mean for a While while. Just an hour or two. At least twenty minutes. If he keeps getting colder, then you know, but if he stays at room temperature, he could just be in… I dunno, power saving mode or something."

“No! No no no!” She panted, “I need to- I need to- fuck I wish you were here! ” She gasped, “Bring the tools! When you come, bring the tools! Just in case! I need to put him in stasis! It- I’ve never done it before without my-” Her vision was getting blurry, “ Fuck I-”

She leaned against the couch, shivering.

"... I have an idea, but I don't think you'll like it."

“What ever , Braig, just say it! I’m used to your unethical fucking ideas! What, put him in a freezer? Blood sacrifice? What?!”

" Get the Narrator. If anyone would know what's going on with him, and how to fix it , it's him."

“I don’t know where he went! ” She exclaimed, “He just fucking vanished! That’s why [nickname redacted] was able to-” She let out a scream of frustration.

" He's a contestant, right? So he should have an apartment there, too. Check there."

“Stay on the phone with me!” She said, “I’m putting you on speaker!”

She stuck the phone in her mouth and then crossed over to the bed, picking Stanley up bridal style. She kicked the nightstand out of the way of the door (breaking it) and then undid the lock with one straining hand. She opened the door. And leaned out, checking her surroundings.

“Mmm-ay,” She said around the phone, “I’m ook-inn.”

She crept out into the hall.

" See anyone? "

“Mmm mm -uh,” She said, which wasn’t an answer but instead a sound of discomfort.

She looked around the hall. The Doctor’s room, Stan Pines’s room (she’d been avoiding him)-

“Ah! Ere ‘e eh!” She sort of kicked the door, knocking on it with her foot.

No reply.

Again.

No reply.

“Mmmph!” She complained, then dropped the phone onto Stanley’s chest, “Narrator! Stanley got fucked up by my ex! He needs you!”

A slight cough sounded from… sort of everywhere? It didn’t seem to have one specific source, and when she turned her head, it didn’t get any louder or softer. She might’ve thought it was in her head, except for the fact that the voice had… volume, substance… power.

Also, it was shuffling some papers.

She felt a trickle of fear in her gut. He was everywhere .

“Eh?” the Narrator said, and then he inhaled sharply. “He– put him down!”

“O-on the floor? Of the hallway? [name redacted] could-”

“I– no, no, come into the apartment.” the Narrator said in a manner that was both flustered and annoyed.

The door opened in front of her.

Going into the apartment was the very last thing she wanted to do. She did not want to be alone with the Narrator. Especially not with- not with-

“Br- Xigbar, you still there?” She said quietly, trying not to show how scared she was.

" I'm here. Not hanging up."

“Okay. Okay,” She whispered, and after a moment, took a few hesitant steps into the room.

The door slammed, and she shrieked, jumping into the air.

The Narrator chuckled slightly, and then the door opened again.

“Right. Just put him down there, and…. Leave.”

“O-on the floor?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine. I suppose you could put him on the bed, if you really must.”

Keeping one eye on the door and the other… sort of everywhere, she shuffled towards the bed, set Stanley down, and retreated quickly back into the hall, “D- do you- should I-”

The door shut firmly.

She didn’t need to be told twice. She nervously jogged back to her room, locking and triple locking the door behind her, then moving what was left of the nightstand back in front of the door.

“Braig-” She panted, “ How did you put him in a snowglobe?! I could- I could feel his voice, I-”

" Probably a lot easier when he's a tiny kitten. It's… It's gonna be okay, Doll. He obviously cares about Stanley to some degree, he won't just leave him like that."

She held the phone close, taking him off of speaker and sort of hugging it to her cheek, “I- I-” She closed her eyes, “Fuck. Fuck. We- we’re gonna have to let him out back at home, too, aren’t we? We- we need to adjust the nerfs, we need to turn them up, If- if- we need to- we need to confine him to a form. And not the eldritch one. Fuck .”

" We'll figure that out when it happens. For all we know, he'll just be back as a cat and safely in the snowglobe."

“No, I know, but to fix Stanley. We- he can’t do that from inside of the-”

" Maybe he'll fix the will thing now. We'll just have to wait and see."

A pause. A breath.

" I heard whatever you did to beat the fuck out of [name redacted]. Proud of ya."

“I- I just- I only kicked him. That’s the one thing I do know how to do, even when I was still charmed, when he would go after our-” She froze.

" H-Hey- you don't have to tell me. It's okay." His voice changed tone. " Still sounded like it hurt, though." The stupid smirk she just knew was on his face was almost audible.

That should have helped. It should have.

She put her back up against the wall and slid to the floor.

"... You okay?"

She shook her head, then remembered he couldn’t see her. She could switch to video call, she knew. But she didn’t.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay.” A lie. A lie. Call her out. Ask what’s wrong. Care.

" If you don't want to say anything, I won't make you, but… I know you're not okay. You know I'm here for you, right?"

She nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her.

“I- I just-” Head in her hand. “I-”

A pause.

“I don’t want to bother you with this.” Make her. Make her.

" You wouldn't be. Promise."

“I- I- I miss them.”

" Who?"

“P-Paphus. And Metharme. My daughters. I- I told you I’d had kids?”

" Shit, I- I think so, yeah… I'm sorry, Showie."

Showie. That’s a name. Sure. But hers? Most of the time. But not now.

“[OM2T] right now, please, sorry.”

" Okay. [OM2T] it is."

“Okay. Okay. Okay.” she closed her eyes, hard. Tears still squeezed through. “Paphus, she- she- she was my- she was the eldest, she used to like going in the woods, when she was- when she was younger. I used to be allowed to go with her. E-e-eventually, we came across, we came across- Artemis, I told you about Artemis?”

" Kinda, yeah. A little bit."

“Goddess of hunting, and dogs, and young girls, and-” She looked at the ceiling, “And the moon. We. When she was 14? We went into the woods. And we ran into Artemis. And her huntresses. And Paphus, she-” [OM2T]’s heart felt like it was being squeezed, “it was- she- Artemis- wasn’t mad, because- oh, you know, but, but Paphus, she wanted to go with. Them. And I let her. And I didn’t know why. I was still- I still had will issues but I let her go and I didn’t know why. When I got back I told him she’d died. I think- I think he still thinks I killed her. I didn’t.”

" Then… she's safe? From him, at least?"

“From him? Sure. In general? I don-” She broke down. “I- I don’t know! I haven’t seen her in- in 2000-” She sobbed.

" H-Hey-" He went silent for a minute. " Percy is like. Pretty well known with Greek gods, right? Maybe he could get some kind of message to Artemis at some point? Find out how your kid is?"

“I- I don’t want to- I don’t- there was a war? Against Kronos? They had a second one. And the hunters, they were, like, decimated. I don’t want to-”

" Okay. Not that, then. … Is there anything I could do? You don't have to come up with anything now. Just. If you need something, I'm here. I am a professional goon."

A joke. She should laugh.

“There’s- there’s not anything-” She tried not to sob again. Clearly he wanted her to cheer up. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

" No, you're not. Don't hold that shit in- it'll just get worse. If you need to cry, you can cry."

“M- Metharme? She- she had- she didn’t go with. With Paphus. She ended up getting married. Cinryas, I think. They founded a city and named it-” Hot tears rolled down her face and she sort of curled up, “They named it Paphos. After- after-” She sobbed.

" So… They didn't know the truth, either?"

“No! No one does. Only you do, and I, and Artemis. It’s even wrong in the myth. There’s no information about- about her.”

" Then… Then she's still safe. At least in some way or another. There's a special kind of protection to being hidden like that."

“R- right. I know.” She stared at the ceiling, “I know.” Calming slightly. Okay. Okay, [OM2T]. Subject change time. Or, not change. Shift.

“They ever let you around small children? Or are you too evil?” She said. A joke. Laugh.

" Oh ha ha ." Sarcasm is better than silence. At least it was light, jokey sarcasm. " Yeah, actually. Before the whole Nobody thing – and kind of after – you know how I said I worked for a king? I was a guard- and there was this kid that got adopted into the castle. On paper, Ansem is the one that adopted him, but Aeleus and Even were the ones that really took care of him. I was like. A weird, irresponsible, fun uncle. Kid's name was Ienzo. I think he's maybe… 19 now? 20? Somewhere around there. Smart kid. Used to be really quiet, but then he got sassy. Fuckin' love that kid. You ever meet him though, don't tell him I said that."

She smiled. Quiet for a few. She didn’t know why that made her so happy.

“Why, you think we’ll cross paths? And why not tell him?”

" It's always a possibility. Pretty sure he'd have to be dragged out of that lab he's got by his emo flap, though." He sighed. " Probably for the best if he doesn't know. I mean, considering I'm technically the enemy to the side he's on."

“Oh,” she said, “I-” She knew what she wanted to ask but didn’t know if or how she should ask it. “Like-” Hmm. Had to phrase this right. “What side?”

" The whole… Kingdom Hearts thing. He was on the side of light, and was buddy-buddy with Sora, meanwhile I was with darkness, and working for Xehanort. And unlike everyone else who was working with him, I wasn't like 'ohhhh noooo, actually I was a good guy this whole time and just didn't know and I got swept up with a bad crowd oh nooooooooo!' when I got beat. Nah. I owned the shit I did."

“Hm,” she sort of laughed, “Curiouser and Curiouser.”

" What do you mean?"

“I- it’s nothing. I don’t know how to phrase it.”

" Aw, come on. Just throw it at me."

“If- hm. Why? You don’t have to tell me if it’ll get you in trouble, but, like, why? Why- you worked for Xehanort for the keyblade thing, but what’s up with the rest of that? Whole thing. I mean. Darkness. Just for funsies? Part of that whole… box thing?”

" Not really. I guess it was just… I dunno, a loyalty thing? Play the part, make Xehanort really think I'm with him until I got the keyblade? I wasn't really on either side. I was just trying to get my shit and go."

“No, no, I get it. I get it.” She didn’t really, but she also didn’t care that much. “I- different subject. Back tracking a little. Now that I’m calmer. I- I can’t believe he just- he just went for it. He was supposed to wait , right? Or- can I check the wording? Where did you have this conversation with him?”

"It was in the DMs on the blog he stole from you- I need to warn you about something, though. Before you read them."

“What?” She asked.

"Don't believe a word I said in it. That's not how I think; I was just stooping down to his level so he'd trust me. The only shit I said in there that I actually meant was that I wouldn't pull shit that would put you in danger. Everything else was just me manipulating him."

Okayyyyy. Well. That. She knew from this prefacing that whatever it was would not be very good for her mental health right now.

“Co-could you, like read it out to me? And self-censor? And I’ll check the exact wording later?”

" Yeah. Okay. I can do that." He sounded relieved. So it was bad bad. " It still isn't going to… make me look great. I approached him first. I told him I wanted to make a deal after he failed at making one with Stanley first. I told him I'd get him alone with Stanley, if he'd leave you alone until then… but then I offered a better deal, but didn't tell him what it was yet. I wanted him to take the bait.

"And he did. He walked right into it. I told him not to tell you, and that I'd trade Stanley for you. Absolutely hated that, having to talk about you like some kind of possession, but anyway. He made me tell him about Stanley's will, but I only said anything because it was obvious he already knew. He had to have that creepy obsession with him for some reason.

He agreed to it, and left the door open for you. I did some ego stroking to make sure you got your phone back, too. I'm not proud of what I had to say to him, but it worked. As far as he knows now, I'm the same kind of guy as him. That trust is gonna put him in the ground."

“I- I see.” She stared at the ceiling. “I figured the- the phone thing- I figured that was you. That was the- the two options in my head. Either he was tricking me or you did something.”

" I framed it as a way to make sure he was keeping his word. In a way, I guess it kind of is. Really I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Hear it from you, yourself."

“I’m glad. For the phone. Would’ve gone crazy in here without it. Went crazy in here with it, too, but you know.”

" Y-Yeah… Sorry about that. Again."

She sort of half smiled, “Mostly you just confused me.”

" Shit, I was confusing myself. Gotta stop overthinking things with you."

“I’m not so sure it was over thinking, there. I just- mixed fuckin’ signals, I guess,” she wasn’t angry. Just looking back on it.

" I was overthinking, at least. Scared of fucking things up with you, I guess. Almost did anyway."

“I just mean- c- can i?” Can I vent? Even though it’s something you did? If I promise I’m not mad?

" Go for it."

“Even if- uh-? About? That?”

" ... Yeah. Shoot."

“Well- Okay. I’m not mad. Prefacing it with that. I’m not mad. All of the mad went away last night when we actually talked about it. What’s left is confused.”

" What about?"

“Well, you were just- I-” Okay maybe there was a little mad left. Just a smidge. “I-” how to phrase this. “I. I don’t know. Nevermind.”

" It's okay, doll. You don't have to just. Keep all that shit bottled up, y'know?"

“It was just the. I know we were just, like, flirting.” She didn’t think ‘planning to adopt a pet together’ counted as ‘flirting’, but let’s go with that. “But, like, the sort of, whiplash? Maybe?” Perhaps she sounded a little bitchy right now. Maybe. “Between the conversation we had on the phone, and then a few hours later? That?” Bitchy in a mean-girl kind of way.

" Yeah, that… I'm not excusing it. I know there's no excusing it. The short of it is, I panicked. Not used to feelings, and when I realized they were there, I tried to squash 'em down. What that didn't work, I forced it into just. Being horny. The one thing I do know how to work with. But, uh. That ended badly, too."

“No, yeah, it’s not a big deal,” It wasn’t. Now that he was admitting it. She could work with that. She thought about bringing up the pet posts and then decided against it.

Even though she was never the one to actually move things further. It was always him being like ‘We should go to Corona’ ‘we should get a cat’ etc etc. And then?? She matches his energy and he goes ‘oh she must not mean it’ like.

[OM2T] considered DMing fuckable-old-man-battle again. But not while on the phone with him.

" It. Isn't something that'll happen again. At least not with him in the picture."

Okay,,,, the energy in the call was not what she wanted it to be,,, he kept apologizing,,, Time to say something random and hope he didn’t take it to mean she was mad,,,

“Ummmm,” She said, trying to think of a question to ask. “Hm. Um. Who was your least favorite coworker? Like who sucks ass the most?”

" Definitely Xaldin. The guy's a wet blanket even when he's not a Nobody. He went through one bad breakup, then became obsessed with removing his heart, then condemning anyone he identified with to the same fate. Dude's nuts."

“What does he look like?”

" Ugh. He's got this hairstyle that just. Absolutely does not match him. Like, at all. And it only got worse when he lost his heart. And then his facial hair? He's got these fuckin'. Weird ass muttonchops that get pointy on his cheeks for some reason. Y'know, if he was just normal, he'd be hot. … Y'know, at least until he opens his mouth. Dude sounds so much older than he is. Voice like an 80 year old British man. Oh, and on top of all that, he loops earrings through his gauges like a douchebag!"

She laughed a little, “He sounds weird. I- do I have permission to look him up?”

" Oh, absolutely," he laughed. "You need to see that awful facial hair."

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 18

Well. She did ask if he had his arrowguns.

 Xigbar clanged the aforementioned arrowguns together like pots and pans, and let out a yell. If [OM2T] was anywhere nearby, she'd hear him. He started going down one direction in the hall- if he didn't find her this way, he'd just go back down the other way. Perfect plan, right?

He looked down at his phone:

[I hear you! I'll go in the hall. I think you're pissing off this tournament runner though so]

Okay, and? The tournament runner pissed him off first. What are they gonna do, kill him? As fuckin' if. He yelled again. Nothing intelligible, just a basic "AAAAH".

He caught a glimpse of a kitchen up ahead, and-

Holy shit.

Down the hall, just rounding a corner- she was wrapped in what looked like a black sheet tied with curtain ropes? Not a wedding dress though. Thank fuck. She- her pigment was gone , save for two streaks of brown running down her face- eye color?

He definitely did not start sprinting. Definitely not. Because that would be sappy and embarrassing. And Xigbar doesn't do sappy and embarrassing.

Her face lit up , and in the seconds before he reached her she sort of shifted from foot to foot, she kind of reached out-

Just before he fully crashed into her, Xigbar remembered that she is, in fact, made of ivory, not flesh, and would feel like running face first into a statue.

Another bloody nose isn't exactly the best way to kick off a reunion.

(With a little help from gravity manipulation) instead of crashing, he scooped her up. Like a doll (hehe get it).

She let out a sort of shriek (a happy one) (hopefully), and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment of just kind of kicking her feet, she said, “You’re here!!! ” And you could hear every exclamation point.

"Told you I would be." He couldn't think of anything else to say. His brain was a little bit fried at the moment.

She didn’t say anything, just hugged him. Like a boa constrictor. “ Hi!!!!” A pause.  “ Not like that. Not right now. But!!!! Hey!!!!!! ”

He laughed. "Hey, doll." He hugged her back with the same kind of grip. "I missed you." Harder to get out than he thought. Not because of feelings , or whatever – he was long past that point – but because it was getting a little hard to breathe here.

She put her feet on the floor and let go slightly (just slightly, her arms were still around his neck) and beamed at him. Not that he noticed or anything, but their faces were, like, pretty close together. Really close.

Not that he was noticing that, either. Nor the gray blush on her cheeks.

He did , however, notice the spatter of somewhat smeared blood on her face. Interesting.

After a moment she let go- or, rather, adjusted her grip to around his chest- and buried her face in his cloak. Her cloak. He was wearing her cloak.

“I- I-” She squeezed him. “ More. ”

"'More'? What?" What the hell did that mean?

“I missed you more. That was understandable. Skill issue on your part.” Her voice was muffled by cloak.

"Uh huh, sure. 'I' and 'more' are definitely a complete, understandable sentence."

“It is when the last thing you said was ‘I missed you’. Or were you so busy staring at me you forgot what you said?” She looked up at him. Still beaming.

"I-I'm not-!" He wasn't staring. And he didn't blush, either. Fake news.

Apparently the things he definitely did not do made her happy, because she did that little bounce again. Her hair had grown out a little. Not that he noticed that. Or the way it shined in the light. Or the wait it was bouncing when she moved. Definitely not.

“I- We-” She looked around the room like she would find the rest of that sentence there, “We should go back to my apartment. [Nickname redacted] is out here, somewhere, even though I kicked him hard, it’s not enough to fully keep him down-”

"I'd love to see him try shit now that I'm here. Just give me a reason." He paused. "Not gonna kill him. Just maim him. Gotta clarify. Make him WISH I would let him die."

She got a look in her eyes he didn’t recognize. He hadn’t seen that one yet. “Well,” She said, “That can wait until later. Um. Um, for now, we should- we should go back.” She wasn’t stammering like she did when she was panicking, this seemed more like nervous excitement.

"Okay. Yeah. I brought you some stuff, too- in a pocket dimension right now. Barely had time to grab it before I got pulled here."

He wasn't kidding, either. Frankly, if he hadn't been holding onto that specific point in space the way he had when he felt the pull of the tournament, he would've just been yanked here. No prep time. Thank fuck for space powers.

“I’m glad,” She said. He didn’t notice her cheeks were still gray. Probably just from running, which she maybe did. “Okay. Okay. Follow me.”

She grabbed his hand and took off down the hall.

He didn't notice how nice the feeling of her hand in his was. Nope.

"Place isn't bad," he commented. "By looks, at least. Fuckin' sucks in other aspects." You know, like kidnapping his g- boss , and sticking her with her terrible terrible ex that Xigbar was definitely not planning on strangling with piano wire or something first chance he got.

She let out a kind of nervous titter. Yeah, titter was the right word, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Br- Xigbar . This tournament runner, Blue, is very nice and good at this! They gave me an apartment with a view into the arena, and the whole set up here is very innovative!”

"I'm still mad about what you got put through. You don't deserve that." SHE DESERVED TO JUST BE HAPPY AND HEALTHY, DAMN IT.

“Well, I’ll admit that it was a tiny, small breach of etiquette to be taken here while I’m still trying to run White Boy Bracket, but it’s well within their right to do so!” She smiled back at him nervously, “And we’re both going to be very polite to them so they let you stay here with me.”

"Just tell them I'm a pet. I'm cute enough to get away with it, right?" Absolutely not.

She rolled her eyes at him, smiling, and then stopped in front of a door that looked like it had had letters removed from the front.

“Look, Blue was nice enough to not be mad when I took my name off of the door! [Name redacted] is right down the hall, but I’m hidden here! At least partially.” She tugged on a necklace he hadn’t known she was wearing, and she pulled out a key. She took off the necklace and opened the door.

“After you,” She said, stepping aside.

"Ha, isn't that my line? 'Ladies first' and all that?" Nonetheless, he went inside. He noticed a broken nightstand on the floor. So he wasn't the only one smashing furniture lately.

“Chauvinist,” She said jokingly, shutting and locking the door behind her, “You use that line in the DM’s?”

"Bet if I did, he would've bitched about it!" Xigbar grinned. Holy fucking shit, he missed her.

“Oh, you have no idea,” She smiled, pushing the nightstand back in front of the door with her foot. “Full of contradictions, that man.” She flicked on the lightswitch.

"Can't fuckin' wait to destroy that guy. Stanley shot him in the knee, right? You think if I shoot him again, it'll come clean off?"

“Careful there,” She walked over to the window, raising the blinds, “I know you know about that artery, Braig.”

Oh. That hit different in person.

"Y-Yeah-" RECOVER. NOW. He cleared his throat.

"Cauterizing shot- He won't bleed out, and bonus points- it'll hurt twice as much."

“Hmm,” She said, “Maybe.” she raised a leg as she leaned to look out the window. Rested her cheek on her hand. Looking at Castiel, probably.

"He out there?" Xigbar walked over and leaned on the wall on one arm. He glanced out the window, trying to figure out where she was looking.

She nodded towards the window. He looked out. The arena had a dirt floor, portions of which were wet, red mud. Blood, probably. On one side of the arena, leaning against the wall, were two guys, younger than Xigbar’s current body, but by like ten years, max. One guy was covered in blood and was wearing jeans and like five shirts. The guy next to him was- that was Castiel- wearing a beige trenchcoat and reaching out to touch the other guys forehead. Soon as he connected, the blood and injuries disappeared.

“It’s because he’s an angel,” She explained, “A fallen one, but not a demon- in Supernatural, demons are corrupted human souls, not fallen angels. Even Satan still just counts as an angel. Anyway, he can heal anyone with a touch, and he’s got, like, angel strength, and he can teleport anywhere. Even though Dean makes him ride in the impala a lot of the time,” She smiled.

"Man- Wish I had healing powers like that. You know how many bodies I've had to abandon because someone tried to kill me?" He shook his head. "Could've been Bragi way longer. I liked being Bragi."

She did a sort of wiggle- because of Castiel?- and asked, “What did you look like then?”

"Eh, it wasn't exactly anything special – way hotter now – but it had its charm. Curlyish red hair, pink eyes- I miss the jacket I had. Had the kinda furry edge to the hood? Real nice blue, too. But, uh, didn't make it past 20 then before I got 'murdered'."

She looked at him with something like sympathy, then took a step closer to him and reached out and ran her fingers along the lapels of his- her cloak, “I- I could try to make you a new one?” She sounded very hesitant, “I- I’m good with clothing. I would only need a picture- I’m sure there’s one somewhere.”

"You would?" He blinked, surprised. I mean, yeah, they talked about the matching jackets and whatnot, but this was. Different. Xigbar felt his face heat up a little. He wasn't used to this. "I-I mean, if you want-"

She smiled slightly, hesitantly, “Sure,” she retracted her hands and stepped back a little, hesitant.

"I'm still cooking for you, by the way. Don't think you're getting out of that."

She smiled, less hesitantly. “I wouldn’t dream of trying.” She turned her attention back to the window, her cheeks gray.

"Good. It's gonna be great, promise." Oh. That reminded him. Xigbar stuck his hand in his pocket (pocket dimension) and pulled out the hot sauce he'd promised. "Brought this for you."

She smiled, taking it and looking at the label. “Nice. Thank you.”

She looked away, sort of glancing around the room. Like she was physically looking for something to say.

"You okay?"

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” she continued looking around. She turned away from the window. He guessed maybe to look around better.

"Can- Can I-" Just get the question out, man.

She looked over to him, perking up.

Nope. He can't finish the question. Damn it.

This is what happens when you suddenly regrow a heart after actively avoiding having one for over a decade.

Xigbar pulled her – gently – into another hug. Just because. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "... Is this okay?"

She felt… warm?

She didn’t reply for a few seconds. Then a few more seconds. Then a few more seconds. Maybe she wasn’t going to reply.

Okay, now he was nervous. But… She wasn't punching him again. That had to be at least a decent sign, right?

He almost didn't want to let go.

But he did.

"Sorry- I just…" Nope. Not finishing that- wait. She was completely gray. Her face and neck, at least. Her eyes were watering up slightly. What???

"Are you okay?"

She just kind of stared at him. For a few more seconds. Then dropped her face into her hands and bonked her head into his chest.

"Uh- Doll…?" Fuckfuckfuckfuck he did something wrong, didn't he-

She sort of nudged him with her shoulder, moving his arm a little. Then again. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm back around her.

“Mm. Fine.” She said, muffled.

Xigbar inwardly sighed in relief. Okay. She wasn't mad. Thank fuck.

"Had me worried for a second there- Thought you were gonna punch me again." Please laugh.

She laughed. Nervously. Then less nervously. Then- one of her legs seemed to give out and she hit the floor with a thunk - and she was hysterical .

"Ah-!" What the fuck?????? "What the fuck??? Are you okay??" He knelt down beside her- somewhat out of arm's reach; just in case.

She gasped for breath, grabbing for his arm- missing (he moved closer)- and then held onto him. She smacked her head into his shoulder, “Ah- I’m fucking crying -” She was not crying. She was laughing.

Thank fuck.

"Alright, get a breath in before you knock yourself out. I mean I'm down to tuck you in, but the circumstances could be better than that."

She let out a kind of screech. Her nails were digging into his arm through the cloak. Like that cat he wanted.

“I- I- It’s not even fucking funny , I- I don’t know why I-”

"Breathe . Get any more riled up and you're gonna start choking on air or some shit." Is that something that could happen? Probably.

“I need a minute, I need a minute-” she gasped. She leaned against him and looked at the ceiling, still laughing. “I’m okay. Fuck. I’m okay.”

"Fuck, doll." He let out a short laugh. "You really have been going crazy in here, haven't you?"

“I’ve been fucking miserable -” She gasped, “ Fuck I hate being alone.” She cackled.

"Well… Good thing I'm here now, right? Not leaving you alone again." He put an arm loosely around her shoulders.

“I almost wanna- wanna tell you the- the fucking crazy ass fucking unethical ass slonk contingency plans- ” She smacked her head against his chest, struggling to speak.

"You had contingency plans?"

“You know about them, you saw the fucking post-” attempt to breathe “-the crazy ass fucking-”

"Yeah, but you never said what they were , didn't think they were straight up contingency plans!" He shook his head. Xigbar made sure to keep his voice positive. Didn't want her to feel bad about something that he now felt even worse for.

“No, no, maybe that’s the wrong word. Less contingency plans and more Hera Behavior-” A pause, and she looked at him, the laughter gone, “Do you know what I mean by that?”

"Not really. Figured it can't be good, though." Xigbar shrugged. "Didn't sound good."

“It’s so weird that you know Heracles- sorry, HERCules,” She said with a dramatic eyeroll, laughing slightly. (slightly. The laugh was mostly gone). “And you don’t know what I mean by Hera Behavior. It’s in his name - Hera-cles. Named thusly to attempt to prevent Hera Behavior, and it didn’t even work. ”

"If his name is Heracles, then where the fuck did Hercules come from-" Probably not the thing to focus on right now. "I know I didn't make that up- everyone else called him that, too."

“Oh, you know the romans. Snatched him, and went, ‘Hold on, we don’t have hera, we have Juno!’, but Juno-cles sound fucking stupid -” She cackled, apparently at the idea of Junocles, “-So they just changed it a little instead. Or something. I dunno, I wasn’t in the writers room.”

"That's stupid," he scoffed. "Then what's the point of making just the one guy have a Roman name, while everyone else is Greek ? I'm not going crazy, right? It's weird?"

“ I KNOW!!! ” She practically yelled, “That entire movie is bullshit! Oh, we have to watch it, you can talk shit about HERCules and I can talk shit about everyone else . Anyway, I think they did it to distract from the Hera Behavior.”

"I'm down. 100 percent." He paused for a second. "You still never explained what Hera Behavior is."

“OKAY SO.” She gestured with her arms, “Hera-” she held up one hand, “Zeus-” She held up the other, “What do you know about those two? Just vaguely?”

"Yeah, vaguely- Zeus is Hercules' dad, yeah?"

“Okay, okay, who do you think the mom is?” She waved the ‘Hera’ hand around a bit, prompting him.

"Hera, I'm guessing?"

“That’s what the movie says!!” She cackled, “That’s what Disney fucking wants you to think!!!!”

"Ooh, drama." Xigbar propped his head up on one hand. "So then who is the mom?"

“Oh, it’s-” She began enthusiastically, then dropped her voice, “Okay, so like, I know that answer, I know it, but I’m gonna play it up a little, yeah?”

"Alright, do it. Make this shit dramatic, I wanna feel like I'm watching a network tv soap opera." He grinned.

“Oh, you came to the right pantheon for that -” She grinned at him, “Oh, this is so fun , I can’t believe- I am so glad you come from the universe with the baby-ass disneyfied greek gods, I get to tell you the drama like it’s new and not something covered in every mythology book . Look nothing up! Any questions about this you have to ask me.”

"You got it." He laughed. Okay, this was gonna be good.

“Okay, okay, ask the question again! Ask it again!”

“Who’s the mom?”

“IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY!” She laughed, “It could be any woman in all of Greece. Or man! He has his ways. It could be me, Braig!” She looked at him, then narrowed her eyes, “It could be you . It could be, I don’t know, fucking Goofy? Who knows! I can tell you one thing though- NOT HERA!” she giggled, “I can count on less than one hand the number of children they had together, Braig, and one of those is debatable - Okay, we’ve got Ares- a war god, Hebe- goddess of youth, and- here’s the kicker, Hephestus. What’s funny about Hephestus? Oh, nothing! Just that he’s even a Zeus kid, Hera straight up used will power to spawn him because Zeus wouldn’t help. Then she threw him off a mountain. Hephestus. Not Zeus.”

"What?" Oh this shit was good. Can't get free range drama like this by any normal means, that's for sure. "Why?"

“Why the mountain or why so few children? Or why Goofy? I picked Goofy because that’s a funny example to me. Or why cheating?”

"Why the mountain? Go through all that effort and then just? Yeet ?"

“Okay well I will preface this by saying I like Hephestus. He’s fine. Very good with machinery. Anyway, she threw him off Olympus because he’s ugly. Landed in the ocean and broke his bones.”

"Damn. Skill issue for him, I guess. Can't imagine doing something that crazy, though. Just. Toss your kid off a mountain because he's ugly? Oh well, just make another ? So she's got issues, huh?"

“And that’s not even Hera Behavior. That was something she did but that’s not what anyone means when they say Hera Behavior. Not that they say that. But they know what I mean. We think of the same thing when I say it, if they know.”

"So then what is Hera Behavior?"

“So. There exists Heracles, yes? Well actually there exists Alcides. Hold on let’s back up. There exists Alcmene (told you I knew her name). Her husband is away at war, and she’s hot , so Zeus comes down to earth pretending to be her husband, and he’s like ‘Honey I’m home’ and they fuck. Then he leaves. But then the next day her husband comes home for real , and they’re confused for a second before they go ‘Oh shit that was Zeus, we’re fucking doomed.’”

"So they're not even concerned about the fact that Zeus just essentially assaulted the wife or anything, they're just worried about Hera ? Fucked up."

“Well this kind of thing happened all the time, back then. Sometimes your husband was secretly Zeus just pretending. Sometimes Aphrodite and Poseidon cursed you to fuck a bull. I’m sure -”

" WHAT?"

She cackled, kicking her feet, “Where did you think the minotaur came from??”

"I don't know???? Not from a human person fucking a bull !"

“Oh, Braig, how naive. ”

"Right, my bad, I should've known the Greeks are insane." He snorted. "So then you being this unhinged is just par for the course, huh?" He laughed and poked her with his elbow.

“Rude!! ‘Bout to engage in some. Hm. Actually a lot of gods would lose it at that. Uh. Nevermind. ANYWAY, I’m sure the husband gave her a big hug or whatever. Anyway, they fucked too. And 9 months later, two babies! Now you may be thinking, how do they know which one is the Zeus kid?”

"Actually I'm wondering how she got pregnant twice at the same time-"

“Do you not know what twins are, Braig? Do they not have twins where you’re from?”

"If one of them is from Zeus, that's not twins- that's like- I dunno, two uteruses. Like a rabbit or something. But go off I guess-"

She stared at him for a moment, face blank.

“Do- do i need to break out an anatomy book? Have you had the talk? That’s not how women work, you can have two kids at the same time by different guys, it’s just super rare. It wasn’t even a Zeus thing, that just happened. ”

"No fuckin' way. You're messing with me."

“OKAY Braig- So the ovary has the eggs-”

"DOLL- Please- I do not need a sex ed lesson right now- Just. Story?"

“And sometimes, two eggs can release a few days apart. If you fuck twice in those two days, you can have a kid by two different guys. It happens.” ("Fucked up…" Xigbar mumbled.) “It’s possible. ANYWAY back to the story. So baby Heracles comes out buff . But- okay, you don’t need the ent- or actually? The entire myth is Hera behavior. Eh, you can get the idea. We don’t need the cousin plotline. Ask later if you’re curious. Anyway so for reasons we’ll talk about later, maybe, Hera makes the birth of Heracles, like, 3 days max pain. Just excruciating. And then, when Heracles is a baby, she sends snakes into his cradle to kill him for existing. This also happened to Percy- White boy Percy?- for different, non-hera reasons, but Hera did it first.”

"So basically the gods said 'fuck them kids'."

“ Hera said fuck them kids. She tries to kill him a whole bunch of times, too. They name him Heracles because it means Glory of Hera - they were trying to make her less mad. It DID NOT WORK. Anyway fast forward 20 or so years, he has a wife- you may know her name? Do you know the name of Heracles’s wife, where you’re from?”

"Meg-something. She died or something and then he jumped into a bunch of souls to save her- it was a whole thing. Stupid thing."

“Megara! Good job!”

"So that one was actually right, huh?" That's a surprise.

“Yes! Megara was the name of his first wife.” She smiled, as if prompting him to ask what happened.

"'First'? What happened to her? Ooooh, is this the one you said he murdered?"

“Yep! Hera infected him with madness and he murdered his wife and children!” She said cheerily, “Only his nephew was spared. That’s why he had to go on all those labors! As penance!”

"For shit that isn't even his fault? What the hell?"

“That’s Hera Behavior , my dear friend. There is only one being in the universe she won’t punish for Zeus’s actions, and can you guess who it is?”

"Oh my god . So when he cheats, it's everyone else's problem, but he gets off scot free?"

“Yep!” She said, smiling, “And that’s just Heracles! You want a more recent example? Remember Jason? Blonde boy, lip scar, white boy cabin?”

"This shit is still happening? "

“Seasons change, Braig, gods don’t. They can’t . If they want to change, they need to go be mortal for a while. Just ask Apollo! Gods are everlasting, they don’t- mortals can change, and gods have power. Therefore, demigods change and have power, that’s the excuse they use for making them. Well, except Athena, she means it. Everyone else though.”

"Then Athena is the only real one. Got it."

“Well, she’s a maiden goddess, but she still has kids- like Annabeth?- she creates them from thoughts. Anyway, Jason- So- and this is interesting- He has an older sister named Thalia. She’s a hunter of Artemis and a daughter of Zeus. Now Jason , he’s a son of Jupiter, and he and Thalia are full siblings .”

"So he's really pulling this shit both Greek and Roman, huh?" Xigbar shook his head.

“Oh, duh , that’s not the significant part. The important part is, he fell for the Same Woman Twice. Twice! Imagine being Hera, and he falls for the Same Mortal Woman Twice! ”

"Ough, that's gotta sting. What did she do?"

“Well, nothing to Beryl- the mother- but she died in her own time, anyway, she was a movie star, you get it. Anyway, so she’s super pissed, so she makes Beryl take Jason- I should mention, they Heracles’d Jason. Mythologically, Jason was one of Hera’s favorites. And to her credit, she fully tolerates Jason Grace! She fucked with him the normal amount! But anyway, she makes Beryl take Jason to park when he was 2 and then leave him for the wolves. For keeps. Forever. Bye, Jason! I mean, they took him to Camp Jupiter eventually, but, like. You know!”

"I'm. What? Okay, so, this doesn't sound that bad." He paused. "This is one of the good examples, isn't it?"

“Well, yeah, kind of, but she still made her abandon her two year old to the wolves. Anyway, Hera Behavior: When you feel scorned so you take it out on everyone else, in an unhinged or violent way.”

"So… What were you planning? There aren't exactly any two year olds for you to give to wolves around here."

She said, “Well, you’re not allowed to be mad. You weren’t in danger ever. That’s kind of how that shit works.”

"You know what? I'll take it." He shrugged, with that sort of cartoony, 'I'm the main character so I don't have to take responsibility for my actions', kind of way. Not for real, but it seemed fitting.

“Okay, So I mentioned having a few options. Well- okay, so I should say, I mentioned, uh, ‘if I was there in person I would have more options’, yeah?”

"Yeahhhh- Wh- Were you-? Did you mean-?" Holy fucking shit. WHY COULD HE NOT TELEPORT ACROSS TOURNAMENTS.

“Well, forbidden option one was simply to fuck you myself. This was not possible, so the Hera Behavior switch engaged.”

WHY COULD HE NOT TELEPORT ACROSS TOURNAMENTS.

"So… What was the Hera Behavior?" Play it off.

“Hera Behavior is going nuclear. Option one: Tell Stanley you planned to trade him to [Name Redacted]. This would jeopardize my life but it would also turn him off of you completely.”

"Holy shit ????" Color him flabbergasted. Fucking flabbergasted. "That's fuckin'- beyond nuclear!"

“I did not want you to slonk him. Option two:-”

"Okay- For the record, he came onto me, I just wanna make that clear I am not the one who did that-"

“I know, but it also doesn’t matter. Hera Behavior is blind to who started it.”

"Clearly. Doesn't sound like those mortal women actually wanted to fuck Zeus."

“Oh, some of them did. Dionysus’s mother did. Maybe Perseus’s mother? Perseus no-last-name, not Jackson. Percy is a son of Poseidon.”

"I'm gonna pretend I know who you're talking about. Anyway, the Hera Behavior?"

“Right! Option two: Okay, this one was only off the table because I figured it might backfire. You’re aware of his friend Cesare?” She smiled at him.

"Goth guy, right? Pulled a knife on me once." Why was he being brought into this?

“Well I figured it might send Stanley a message if I held an emergency round and put Cesare up against the Percy, Dipper, Faggy types. The ones that have never lost. But I figured, nah, that would only turn him against me and might make him come onto you harder. So that one was off the table.”

"What? You know he hates me, right? He literally only wanted the power play. I mean, that's fine, I only wanted some outlet to be a slut for a minute- Anyway."

“Hera Behavior is blind to those things, Braig. Hera Behavior cares only about preventing slonk.” Her tone the entire conversation was jovial. It was still jovial.

"Slonk prevented, then. Not alone anymore."

“I know! I came to my senses a few hours later, anyway. I’m skipping over option three for now. Let you down easy. Okay, Option four: ready?”

"That's concerning- Okay, what was option four?"

“Option four: Kill Stanley.”

"... Somehow, that's not as bad as telling him about the deal." This was all… Strangely, it was a turn on. Maybe not so strangely. It was kinda hot she was willing to go that far for him. Made him feel special <3.

“I will admit option one was my first inclination, and also probably the worst. That’s why I thought of back up plans.”

"Is it bad I'm- Actually, no. Not saying that."

“Well, then, I think you will like that option 3 was a watered down version of option zero.”

"Okay, what was it?" He's interested. He's very interested.

“Well I was thinking of sending images.”

"Wait- You mean-?"

“Yeah. Maybe call you, too.”

" Holy shit . Maybe I should make you jealous more often," he laughed and let his head fall back against the wall. "That's a joke- Don't hit me."

She leaned her head back on his chest, “You don’t need to.”

"... Good to know." This woman is going to be the death of him.

She closed her eyes for a second. He could feel the energy change. Girl had an on-off switch.

“I’m glad you’re here,” She said, no trace of the Mood that had been there mere seconds ago, “I- i was losing it a few minutes ago. My face is probably a mess.”

"Not that bad. Your eyes are running, though." He tilted his head. "Brown suits you."

She smiled at him, but it faded fast. After a moment of silence, she said, “He- he just fell down . And got cold. The- the- the Narrator said he’d be fine, but… I…”

"Hey. If the Narrator said he'd be fine, he'll be fine. From what I could hear, he didn't sound particularly stressed or anything. Maybe this isn't the first time it happened."

“I-” She paused. Froze, more like. “Wait, hold on. If I’m here, and You’re here, then who’s running White Boy Bracket?”

"Uh…" That thought did not occur to him. At all. Xigbar shrugged, a half nervous grin on his face. "White Boy beach episode?"

She looked up at him, head still on his chest, “I- I’m just worried. What about the test subjects? Sasha’s still down there, yes?”

"Yeah, but there's a Kin checking up on her every so often. Make sure she's still got food and whatnot. If she's got anything going on, it's just boredom." He sighed. "Hopefully the white boys don't think we're both dead and go tear up the place. They think you're dead, at least. Last thing they heard from you was that you got shot, and then all this happened. And I ran a round instead of you, so that couldn't have helped."

“They should know better,” She said, then sighed, “Oh, the pee-pee party’s gonna try to stage a rescue, aren’t they?”

"Ugh, probably. Gonna be a mess when we get back." Xigbar rolled his eye. "At least when we show back up, it'll put some fear into them. Get them at least somewhat back into line."

She nodded, then said, “Gods, what time is it? I’ve been up since, like this time yesterday at least . I don’t sleep around that guy.”

"Sleep now, then. I'll watch out for you." He meant it, too. No way in hell was anything going to happen to her with Xigbar around. Goons gotta goon, right?

She looked at him like that wasn’t the response she wanted.

"... What?" What did he say?

She blinked.

A pause, when he didn’t say anything.

She sighed, “Gee, Braig, are you tired? When’s the last time you slept?”

"... Actually, no idea. Probably more recently than you, though." Oh. Oh wait. "But I mean, if you want to catch a nap together, I wouldn't say no-"

She smiled brightly, then got to her feet and reached down to help him up.

He grinned and took her hand. "You know, you keep doin' this stuff, and I'm not gonna have any opportunities to be a gentleman." Implying he was any kind of a gentleman.

She raised an eyebrow, “Maybe that’s something I’m trying to prevent.”

"Ha! Probably picked the right guy for it, then. Never really been the gentleman type."

She let go of his hand, “Really? But our first interaction was so polite.” She half-grinned at him.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, doll." He chuckled. "I remember you're the one that sicced your dogs on me ."

She said, “I don’t count that as our first interaction- the one after that? And besides, I never said I was polite. You, however, kissed my hand.”

"You complaining about where it ended up?" He asked, jokingly.

“No <3.”

“How did you say that out loud?”

She laughed slightly, but didn’t answer. She walked over to the lightswitch and flicked it off. The room went pitch black.

#### The Tournament Chapter 21

Firestar’s ears perked up as something crackled above him. Some kind of white, lined, thing that Firestar didn’t want to admit he knew was paper fluttered to the ground in front of him.

Huh.

“Percy?” he said, turning to the bed where Percy-... had been, a few seconds ago.

“Percy?” He asked again.

Gone.

He hesitantly took the paper in his mouth and trotted down the small staircase to where the rest of his team and a few others were having quite a commotion in the sort of hole in the middle of the room.

“Prosper?” He said, the collar allowing him to speak perfectly clearly with his mouth full. “What happened?”

“Dipper vanished !” Prosper and a few others were sitting around one of the tables in the pit. They had more paper and little stones of various shapes scattered across its top.

Firestar lashed his tail, “This just fell from the sky,” He held the paper out for Prosper to take.

“What is it?” Artemis leaned in to look at the paper as Prosper unfolded it.

One of the boys he didn’t recognize, this one with brown hair and clothing made partially of skin, got closer to Prosper to look at it, “I- I can’t read that. What does it say?”

“It- uh-” He looked at it, then looked up and called, “Guys? Everyone?”

Heads turned towards the pit and twolegs looked down from their beds in what they called the loft.

“The Showrunner’s, like, alive, and she sent a letter.”

Firestar didn’t know what that last part meant, but okay.

He said, “That’s a good thing, right? I think Percy was right- this place is much more dangerous with Xigbar in charge rather than Showrunner.”

“What does it say?” Insisted Artemis.

“Uh-” Prosper began to speak- probably reading the symbols on the page that Firestar couldn’t. Because he is a cat.

“"Hello competitors!

You may have noticed that Percy, Dipper, Fred, and Shaggy were just taken to the arena. Don't worry, they are not in any danger. I have set up nets to catch them if they for some reason are voted off. the intention for this round is not to eliminate any of you, but to punish the Master of Masters. If he comes to the cabin, do not try to engage him.

For as long as you don't engage the Master of Masters, I will ensure that none of you are eliminated or harmed. Provide proof of this and I will consider reopening the losers resort and returning the match to it's original state.

Oh, and I am alive, Paul Matthews barely grazed me. Xigbar ran the last round because he is Deputy Showrunner now.

To Sora-”

There were some gasps, and everyone looked over at Sora, who was also sitting at the same table in the pit.

“... Don't look at me, I don't know her! The only one I know here is Xigbar, and it's not friendly.”

Prosper gave him a look Firestar thought was skeptical, and read:

“The Master of Masters is one of the people responsible for the deeds of organization 13, and the reason why Xehanort did all of that nonsense. He is a manipulator- if he comes to the cabin, he will act friendly. He is not. Do not fall for it, I trust you are smarter than that. I have no reason to lie to you and you have nothing to lose by putting off speaking to him until I return.

To everyone else- Sora is not 'bullshitting' you. He's telling the truth. I have remotely enabled wifi into the cabin. I suggest looking up 'Kingdom Hearts'. and being very respectful and nice to him.

Additionally, you may have noticed your powers have substantially decreased or disappeared entirely. This is unintentional, and I'm sorry. There has been a malfunction of the portion of the force field that controls the power nerfs. I will fix it as soon as i can. Remain patient, please.

Yours,

The Showrunner 💖"

There was silence for a few moments. Everyone was still looking at Sora, though a few people had pulled out their phones.

Sora said, “I dunno… I've never heard of this guy before. And why would she give us a warning like that?" He paused. "And seriously, I don't know her. I dunno why she's telling everyone to be nice to me." He made a face. "It's kinda weird."

Artemis read out:

“Kingdom Hearts is a series of action role-playing games created by Japanese game designers Tetsuya Nomura and Shinji Hashimoto, being developed and published by Square Enix (originally by Square). It is a collaboration between Square Enix and The Walt Disney Company and is under the leadership of Nomura, a longtime Square Enix employee-

Kingdom Hearts is a crossover of various Disney properties based in an original fictional universe. The series centers on the main character, Sora, and his journey and experiences with various Disney and Pixar characters, as well as some from Square Enix properties, such as Final Fantasy, The World Ends With You and Einhänder, in addition to original characters and locations created specifically for the series.”

A pause.

“From wikipedia,” he said, “Sora, you could have just said you’re from a video game. Lots of us are from works of fiction. Mr. Lightyear over there is from Toy Story.”

“I'm not…" Sora tilted his head, confused. "I don't even know how computers work, how could I be from a video game? I mean, I guess I've been inside of a computer before, but that was a world in itself?"

“Maybe it’s just a video game in the world the rest of us are coming from,” Artemis conceded- Probably because Percy wasn’t there to do it- “She probably called you out specifically because this Master of Masters is from the same set of worlds as you?”

"I mean… Maybe?" Sora crossed his arms. He looked down at the ground for a second, clearly thinking about something. "I guess… If the Showrunner isn't kidding about this guy, he's real bad news. Organization XIII almost summoned Kingdom Hearts. Xehanort actually did. If he wasn't stopped, he would've rewritten the entire universe." Sora shook his head sharply. "For now, we're gonna have to trust her, I guess. This guy is a serious threat if it's real."

Artemis took the note from Prosper, “It says to report to her? ‘Provide Proof’? How do we do that?” he looked at the small box Sora had in his pocket. “I don’t know how the world you’re from works- do you have any pathway that could get you in contact with Xigbar somehow?”

"Uh… I don't-" His face lit up. "Oh, yeah!" He pulled something with a screen from his pocket. It had a large crown on the back. "The Gummiphone! If we have internet now, I bet I could get in touch with him somehow!"

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 19

Of course. Of course the Master would pull a move like this. Millennia and not a peep, then suddenly just shows up on Tumblr with him the second Luxu started doubting his role. Classic fuckin' Master of Masters.

 Something about this… it put him in a mood. A certain level of bitter nihilism that he didn't normally hit. Luxu sighed and tossed his phone onto the bed. He was tempted to go outside, but the look on [OM2T]'s face stopped him.

 Fine. A window was as good a place as any.

 He pulled the window open and lit a cigarette he'd pulled from his pocket dimension. Used matches, not lighters. The smell was nice. It was grounding. Not enough, but it helped. Kinda.

 A touch on his hand ripped him out of his spiral of thoughts. Luxu's head snapped to the side, both from being startled and because it was his blind side. [OM2T]. She looked like she would've jumped clear out of her skin, if she had any. Instantly, he felt bad.

 She had been trying to hold his hand. And, to her credit, hadn't fully let go when he scared her. He twisted his hand, so that he could actually, properly, hold hers. He (gently, of course; she was jumpy enough,) pulled her hand closer and brushed a kiss against one of her knuckles before letting her go.

 Suddenly he realized he'd been standing there so long the cigarette had gone out on its own. Not enough to keep burning. He tossed it out the window and onto the ground. Not like he would've had to worry about it starting a fire.

 He turned, and without saying anything, pulled [OM2T] into a hug and rested his chin on the top of her head. She squeaked; clearly she hadn't been expecting this. But after a beat, he felt her hug back.

 He sighed through his nose. There was so much going on in his head – it would've taken weeks to even begin to untangle it. Thoughts about his father, thoughts about his purpose, … thoughts about her. It was a wreck, but… it could wait. [OM2T] was here. The Master wasn't. He was probably just lying in wait back in White Boy Bracket, but there was no telling how long they were going to be stuck in this tournament. He could put off worrying about everything for a while.

 He was here. This was now. [OM2T] was the grounder he needed. Standing here like this, just holding her and being held, it helped.

 His words were barely louder than a whisper; a mumble just loud enough for her to hear.

 "I love you."

#### Kaymom Fic Chapter 1 [Meeting]

MoM growled as he scrubbed the grass and syrup off of the leather trench coat. At least the water in the stream around him offered a bit of relaxation in this mess of a week he had had. Not only was he trapped in this horrible place but he had also been humiliated online (by his own son no less) and thrown into… various horrid pits.

“Oh come onnnnnn.” He snarled under his breath, “this stuff is really stuck on there- what the hell did they even use for this?”

“Syrup!” a capricious voice called out from… his left. “Agave, to be precise. I think. Or, that’s at least a component!”

A man in a black suit strode forward, his eyes widening at the Master’s form. His hands seemed to be stained with… blood? Fresh, too. And his feet… uncovered, and also fully soaked with reddened viscera.

At once, the many eyes that covered the Master widened. Normally he would have instantly covered himself, but by that point the damage would have already been done, mind broke beyond recognition. However, this didn’t seem to be the case with this bloodsoaked man before him. Sure, he was covered in carnage but him brain seemed to be Relatively intact. Well, best move was to play it off as normal.

“Look at you over there, mister helpful.” He smirked, leaning back on the bank of the stream and letting the coat rest at his feet in the cool water. “Unfortunately that doesn’t do me much good at the moment.”

The man blinked at the Master and then his face broke out into a grin.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t! Not at all. But that’s the question you asked– that’s the answer you get!”

He strode closer, seemingly unbothered by all of the eyes and general… unfathomableness of his form. If anything, the man seemed to be… eyeing it up?

“Now, if you were to ask a better question, well, then I might be able to do something worthwhile.”

A look of amusement flashed across the Master's face as his mouth pulled back into a wide smile of large sharp teeth. “Really? Is that so?” The tone of his voice was playful now, “what sort of something would that be?”

The man grinned, and sat down near the edge of the stream.

“Lemme think. Some soap? New coat? Now, of course, I think you look much nicer with it off– but it’s obviously not appropriate to be showing all this off every second. Or, of course, you could keep trying to clean it off with… stream water.”

“Dawwww you flatter me” the Master giggled, a soft iridescent blue rising to his cheeks, “butttt sadly I can’t go around showing myself off like this- don’t want to cause any unnecessary brain damage to people.” He sighed, drumming his fingers against the bank. “That could cause some issues for me in the long run, you know. Not everyone is resistant as you seem to be.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before clicking his fingers together, remembering the offer, “but yes- some soap could be very handy. I don’t think stream water is really an option for me at the moment.”

The man snapped his fingers, and with a stormy crackle, a bottle of saddle soap appeared in his hand. He handed it over to the Master with a little flourish of the wrist.

“OooOOoooo~ impressive!” The Master’s grin widened, catlike eyes dilating at the gift. “Maybe you are Mr. Helpful after all.” He left out another laugh as he took the bottle. It was only a few seconds before he went back to work on his coat, humming to himself. At last, the syrup had started to dissolve and the coat's sleek appearance was on the verge of renewal. “Perhaps I should keep you around.”

“Kayne.” the man said smoothly. “Mr. Kayne, if you would. And you?”

“Ahhh well..” The Master of Masters sighed, setting his coat to the side before getting to work on his pants, “that’s a bit of a tricky one. I’m not really one to hand it out for personal reasons. However..” the angel glanced back up at Kayne, “those who know me typically refer to me as the Master of Masters… or just The Master for short if that’s too much of a mouthful.”

“The Master?” Kayne said with a bit of chuckle. “Alright, Maestro. How’d ya end up in this… spot of trouble, anyway?”

“Maestro huh?” The Master asked fondly. “Can’t say that I’m opposed to it.” Setting his pants aside to dry, he next went on to his boots as he continued, “butttt to answer your question, I came to this place to visit my son that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. And well… wasn’t aware of the showrunner’s whole deal.” He waved his hand vaguely. “Turns out that my son wasn’t even around when I get here and she decided to use me as her little torture toy.”

Kayne made a pained sound, and shook his head. “Honestly, that is so rude! I’m here because I asked one of my followers to send me through– unfortunately, this place is rather closed off, and I didn’t exactly realize that when I sent Arthur through, and– oh, enough about me. Did you know that her revival is flawed? Tested it out, even! All it took was one little human sacrifice offered up to her, and she took the bait. Poor fellow ended up without a mouth. It’s honestly funny how incompetent she is.”

“Ooooo yikes-“ The Master gave a dramatic wince. “You know, she should really test those things out beforehand. Dealing with unexpected anomalies can be a real pain, as I’m sure you know.” Sighing, he stretched up and looked over to his companion. He had finished up with his cleaning and all that there was left to do was relax. “Anyhowww- not like I can die anyway so there’s no need for me to worry. Though- I am curious about you. You seem to be kinda a popular guy.”

“Oh, the– well, I haven’t got any inside this place.” Kayne said with a huff, gesturing to the general entirety of the forcefield. “But yes, quite a number of cults in my name! Or, well– not Kayne. That’s an alias. But dedicated to me, yeah.”

“Now that explains a lot! Seems like you have an impressive resumé there, hmmm??” The Master leaned towards him, elbows resting on his bare legs. “Color me intrigued.”

Kayne grinned sharply. “Now, I’m not gonna just tell you all of my everything because you’ve got a pretty face, Maestro. That’d just be irresponsible!”

He leaned in a bit closer, and dropped his voice to a lower tone.

“But then again… I’ve never been the most responsible entity around.”

Laughter escaped the Master's mouth. Surprisingly it seemed rather genuine. “Oh do I know that feeling. Unfortunately, my life doesn’t always allow for much wiggle room. You know how it is playing the long game and what not. It can be annoyingly restrictive at times, but hey, what has to be done has to be done.”

Kayne nods easily. “Fair enough. Well, then– not all of my everything– don’t want to do too much, y’know– but I’m a bit of a… malevolent entity. Considered a god, by many. Which is why I can look upon your lovely, maddening form!”

“Should have known.” The master closed his eyes, nodding softly. “This damn forcefield is messing up with all my powers and senses. Usually I would have been able to tell if someone like you was around from miles away. Oh well…” opening his eyes once more, he locked them into contact with Kanye’s, “malevolent though? That’s a rather human way of looking at it, don’t you think? For instance-“ he stood up with a flourish and took a step next to him and paced around him much like a hawk circling its prey, “many would call my motives unforgivable- heinous even- an affront against the gods itself- although in the end it’s all work and sacrifice to achieve the greatest end!” Suddenly he came to a stop beside him once more, looking down to him with eyes half lidded, “all that matters is if you believe in the means to the end that you want.”

Kayne blinked, looking up at the Master. He straightened up his posture, though he still remained seated, and squinted at the Master’s facial eyes. The– the main eyes. The ones that go in the eye sockets.

“Means to an end.” he muttered smoothly. “Now, I– I agree with you on that one, Maestro, but I’m talking about the… y’know. Killing.”

He held his hands, palms up, and made a little jazzy motion as he showed off the blood.

“I know I’m malevolent. It’s half of my point. But I don’t let that keep me down! I don’t need to be some sort of protagonist, or villain, or mentor. I’m just here for the fun! Or, well. Normally am.”

“It’s not like my hands are clean either.” The master let a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “After all- countless are dead because of my actions- children to be more precise. But I’m not here to air my baggage. All it comes down to is that sometimes there are actions that need taken.” He gave another squeeze and let his hand drop to a sigh. He then took a seat next to him. “It’s good to know that you’re having fun with it though. Only you get to dictate your life,,, well.., fate plays a bit in it but it’s really us that cause our own fates.”

Kayne touches his hand to the spot where he was touched almost with… surprise. He looks over at the Master.

“You’re not like me, dear.” he mumbles, though it is a smooth, intentional sort of speaking still. “You have a reason, a goal, a purpose. You’re not just fucking about. I cause my own fate, I am my own fate. I–”

He sighs.

“Actions that need taken.” he mutters. “That’s… I know exactly what you mean, there. Have to set up the right pins for the end to fall how you want it to.”

He smiles sharply.

“You know, it’s honestly a nice bit of fresh air, talking to you. Having someone else who gets the kind of work we do. Better than most other company I’ve had– I haven’t found anyone else who’s powerful enough to do anything significant who also takes the same sort of interest in humans as you. It’s… they’re cool, right? Little suckers.”

“They do fall into place pretty easily if you adjust their emotions just right I’ll give you that.” The master hummed softly in thought before speaking up again. “Definitely an interesting species. So much can be accomplished in such a short lifetime… though sometimes it isn’t always enough to get through with our goals. Sometimes there are adjustments that need to be made.”

“Oh, of course!” Kayne says, lighting up eagerly. “It’s amazing how much trouble one of my little guys has managed to get into. Nearly died so much! They’re so fragile, poor things. Had to help him out a bit to make sure he stayed up.”

“Awhhh poor things indeed” the master laughed,all sense of pity missing. “And they’re so self important too. The lengths they’ll go to do something that means so little in the universe. Poor misguided souls. They’re like a spiral of ants that chase each other in a circle desperate to reach a destination that they’ll never get to until they inevitably expire.” He cocked his head, looking over to him, “it’s a wonder how their species has even made it this far.”

Kayne nodded, smiling at the Master easily. He reached his hand over and rested it on the small of the Master’s back, as he continued in a softer voice.

“You get it. You get it, you understand them the way that I do! So many of the other gods I know they– they just don’t care, they don’t get the appeal! But you– you see that there’s something remarkable about all of them, that they’re fun, that they’re something you can change and shape. They’re– they can be interesting! And it’s so easy to make em interesting, you just have to throw in a few interesting pieces and they’re like fish on a hook!”

“And they’re an easy catch to reel in…” the master paused. “Usually. They can, of course, be finicky. Those are the ones you have to watch out for.” Leaning into the tough, the eyes on his face closed as a rumble escaped from his chest. “There’s always someone out there that thinks they can change their own fate and mess you up. They’re real pests.”

Kayne smiled and began rubbing a small circle into the Master’s back gently.

“Annoying. Endearing, sometimes– mostly annoying.”

Kayne let out a content sort of sigh and let his eyes close.

The purr emitting from the master only intensified. Geez, when was the last time he had done that? Embarrassing. Ugh. Oh well. This felt nice. “Endearing… yes I suppose they can be at times. Though it's a rarity… I only have a spot for one of them in my life at a time.”

“Oh, understandable.” Kayne said, leaning into the Master’s feathery body. He made a small sort of delighted noise as he felt the soft down of the Master’s chest.

The blue on the Master’s face only darkened. This wouldn’t have been an issue with his coat. The feeling of vulnerability was surreal to him but he tried to push it aside. Gradually, he left himself melt into it and rested a hand against his back. “So-“ he cocked his head, “do you normally take things so fast with gorgeous entities you meet in the woods?”

“Don’t normally meet anything as gorgeous as you.” Kayne murmured, smiling sleepily as he nuzzled into the Master a bit. “But I don’t typically take things slow in general.”

“I should consider myself lucky then.” The Master yawned, letting himself relax into the touch. His extra eyes remained locked onto the man nuzzled into him. “It’s not every day when I land myself in these situations either.”

“Then I suppose,” Kayne said, looking up at the Master’s face and smiling. “We should count this as a lovely stroke of fate.”

He chuckled a little at the word ‘fate’, as if it was a punchline all on its own.

“Sometimes it has pleasant little surprises alone the way.” Absentmindedly, the Master cupped his face and ran a thumb across it. “Who knows- maybe this could be fun for us.”

Kayne grinned, a brought a hand up to touch the Master’s chin, staining it with a bit of blood as he gripped it lightly.

“Oh, very fun indeed.”

#### Like A Statue Chapter 8

Showie looked at the tablet, her breath coming in pants. It had been like 2 hours since she’d last seen Braig- he said he was going to go Get Something and then didn’t tell her what it was and then left , and he hadn’t been back yet- AND the fucking grass eater had been counting down on fucking tumblr ominously only to post a fucking gif like he hadn’t just been posting about letting the other competitors ‘peep the horrors’- whatever that meant. She didn’t know what it meant just she sure as hell didn’t want to subject the white boys to it- the ones in the round were teenagers , how could she have been so fucking stupid as to put teenagers in the round with that- that creature who had apparently just picked up Braig when he was a baby, like that was normal-

A notification. Keyblade-kid. Thank fuck , finally word -

Hey !!!! Using rikus phone for this 🕺 but I'm here !!! A couple of guys in an arena helped me to the building 🏢 now i just need to know where you are 🧍‍♀️!!!

Thank fuck-

She told them to send a picture of where they were- looked like the first floor- she didn’t frequent there, but she knew where it was, at least- She grabbed her cloak and pulled the hood over her face- she regretted the first time she’d see Sora, he’d see her looking like a cult member, but alas. She grabbed her keys, left the room, and shut the- locked the door behind her. Braig had keys, too. Each apartment came with a set.

She hurried down the staircase to the second floor, and then the first- her route avoided the kitchen, that place was always so exposed- she reached the landing on the first floor and then replied:

Okay I'm on the first floor. Could you make some noise to help me find you?

A few moments later:

Kay !! 😄

#gonna yell#riku well too#will\*

Tell no one, especially not Sora, but she would die for that kid. He was delightful . She couldn’t believe Braig seemed a bit scared of him- or, well, she could believe it, Braig was self-proclaimed evil and Sora was the very opposite of that (and in her experience, good always found a way to win (“But Showie, aren’t you evil?” you ask. The answer is yes but she didn’t expect to win , she was intending fully to let everyone go after the tournament- the whole deathmatch thing was an aberration she fully intended to correct once she arrived back to white boy bracket (lest Sora think she’s evil and block her on tumblr)). But anyway.

A few moments later, she heard an “ aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAHHHHHHH” come from down the hall, and she smiled faintly. Pushing aside a thought that invisible [name redacted] would have thought very fitting for her, she advanced towards the screaming.

When she got close enough down the tunnel that led to the arena (not tunnel like a cave, tunnel like something from a sports stadium) that the screaming echoed and she could see their silhouettes, she texted them that she was behind them and then slipped the tablet into her inside pocket. The only light in the room was the blue and purple flame of the burning torch. She was about to straighten her posture, then decided that might not be the best move if she was trying to come across as unintimidating, and sort of settled on what she hoped looked casual but still like she should be taken seriously (but not too seriously).

“Sora?" She called out, “Behind you!”

"Oh!" Sora turned to face her. Braig was… not kidding about the clown shoes. She was somewhat charmed by them, though. Get the kid a lollipop and propeller hat while he was at it. Striped shirt, the works. "Hey! You're the showrunner, right? Nice to finally meet you!"

“Showie,” She said, “Yes, I am. And this is Riku?” The tunnel was incredibly dim, she could only just make out the other silhouette. She figured that was Riku.

"Yeah, that's me. I… Heard a lot about you." His voice came out somewhat cold. Wary. Far more than Sora's.

She supposed he’d talked to the competitors. More than Sora had, at least. From what Amy had told her, Sora had had like, two conversations in which they just sort of laughed at him and unintentionally gaslit him. But he’d said Riku was being taken more seriously. Perhaps because of the lack of clown shoes.

"Oh, right! They said they couldn't come in, but-" Sora opened the door to the arena-

Showie let out a shriek and jumped into the air. Sora flinched and instinctively summoned his keyblade, his head on a swivel. "What-?!"

She made a sound that was almost words. Very nearly words. The two men (her heart was beating out of her chest and she was glad to have put the tablet in her pocket or else she’d’ve dropped it and cracked the screen to that , as well)- one of which was wearing blue jeans and lots of layers and the other of which was wearing a trenchcoat-

Another sound that was almost words. And then, “I- no, it’s fine, everythings fine!”

Castiel in front of her .

“It’s all good!” She said, a sort of instinctive smile crossing her face.

Castiel looked at her, tilting his head. Tilting his head . He said, “Ma’am, we’re not going to hurt you-” Butterflies - “But these boys said you had a way out of the arena?”

She would be normal. She could feel herself getting more normal as the seconds ticked on. This was just Castiel , it was the same as if she’d run into, like, Misha Collins or something. Just some guy. She was good. She was fine. She was fine.

“Um, yes, I do,” She said, her voice oh so normal, “The torch allows for passage to and from various tournaments. Are you intending to come back to mine? I would of course release you from the force field immediately.”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be great,” Said Dean (his legs really were bowed), “And you’d be able to bippity boppity boo us back to Kansas?”

“I can certainly arrange transport,” she said like she wasn’t freaking out. “I-” She turned to Sora, “We need to go find B- Xigbar before we can leave, I’m not sure where he is, but- we need to find him.”

"He's not with you? Figured he'd be like, attached to your hip with how worried he was about you." Sora tilted his head like a confused puppy. Or a Castiel.

Something fluttered in her stomach, “Well-” She smiled, “I’m glad he was worried about me. Um, he went to get something a few hours ago. He hasn’t come back to the apartment,” She was eager to get away from Dean and Castiel , not because they- just because she wanted to find Braig. She was worried. “I can message him-” She pulled out the tablet.

Hey bucket boy. Sora's here. I'm on the way up. How about you get back to the apartment so we know where you are and we'll come get you.

She waited.

Not too long later, he replied.

Yeah so. Problem

I got lost and ran into you know who and hes. A little upset im not holding my end of the deal. Kinda got into a. Let's call it a scuffle.

I didn't kill him, but he did manage to land a punch on my good eye. I heard him limp back to his room (dw he is definitely not in any condition to start shit right now) but i got turned around getting back to the apartment. I think i found the kitchen again but i cant really see anymore

Thank fuck for text to speech/speech to text

Oh. Well. Now she felt awful. Time to delete some posts.

“Uh, sounds like he’s in the kitchen!” She said, “Dean, Cas-tiel, we’ll be back to let you out of the arena. I even have this poll runner's permission to do so. Alright, let’s go!” She smiled, desperate to get out of the situation. She’d almost called him Cas -

"... Are you sure you want to bring him? You know what he's like, right?"

"Riku!" Sora scolded.

"It's a fair question!" Riku put his hands up. "He's tried to kill us like five times now!"

“I promise Xigbar will behave,” she felt her cheeks heat up. She was probably going gray. “I’m absolutely sure I want to bring him. He’s my-” brief pause, “-friend. I care about him.” She looked at Riku’s silhouette, “He won’t try to hurt you two, I promise. I won’t allow it.” A pause, “Right now, he’s hurt, himself, actually. He was attacked by my ex- the very, very evil one- and he fought him off but now he’s in the kitchen, and he’s hurt-” She didn’t try to keep the worry from her voice.

"Okay, okay.  Let's go find him, then." The slight unease didn't leave Riku's tone, but at least he wasn't fighting her on this.

“Alright!” She said, “I know where the kitchen is. Here we go.”

She started walking, making sure Sora and Riku were beside her rather than behind. Their footsteps echoed through the tunnel as they slowly ascended. He was blinded. Using voice to text. At least he had his arrowguns. She gripped her tablet, then stopped- she needed to be careful with it, she used it for showrunning.

They came up to the door to the hotel-type building where the competitors stayed. She pushed open the door and held it open for Sora and Riku.

"This place looks pretty nice," Sora commented as he walked through the door, "Definitely looks like it beats sleeping on the ground."

"Oh, please. Like you haven't just been knocking out wherever ever since I've known you."

Showie froze, stayed like that for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, have- in-” She looked at Sora from under her hood, “have you- in the cabin?”

"Huh? Oh, no-" He shook his head. "It's just how I usually sleep when I'm on some adventure. More comfortable than trying to sleep in the Gummi Ship."

“Oh,” She said, relieved, “Alright,” she let the door close behind her, “To the kitchen, then. It’s up these stairs, then down the hall, then up more stairs-” She started walking. Realized she was wearing no shoes and that her ivory was visible in several places. Kept walking like nothing was wrong.

They walked up the stairs, Showie’s hand ghosting along the railing. She didn’t want to fall but she also didn’t want to clink . Her hand was totally visible. Act normal, Showie, act normal.

"Are you okay? You look nervous." Sora's voice turned serious. "He's not threatening you or anything, is he?"

She frowned slightly, looking at him confused, “He, who?”

"Xigbar?"

“Oh-” She laughed slightly, “No, never. He wouldn’t. He’s not like that. No, I’m just nervous because- oh, well, for one, my ex is here- evil guy- and uh- those guys back there were sort of Dean and Castiel from one of my favorite shows so seeing them was a bit of a surprise! But I’m good, everything’s fine.” She forced a smile, though they couldn’t see.

"Oh, uh- Okay." It was pretty clear he didn't believe her, but he dropped it. Riku , on the other hand…

"I don't- what do you mean he's not like that? You have met him before, right?"

She blushed, “I-” she hesitated, “I- yes, I’ve met him before today, and yes, he’s kind of… you know… but he’s not-” she paused for a second, “He’s not, like- I mean I suppose-” Slight laugh, “My ex is so much worse , you wouldn’t believe. ”

They reached the second floor landing. Time to go down the hall.

Riku crossed his arms and looked at her like he was sizing her up. Like he absolutely did not trust her. But… He did stop talking. So at least there's that.

Except now it was quiet. Her nervousness got worse, and now she was forced to confront that she’d been unconsciously compare-contrasting him to [name redacted] this entire time. She wished someone would say something. It wasn’t going to be her.

"Sorry he's- y'know -"

"Hey-"

"Riku, come on. They clearly care about each other, so be nice ."

She tripped and ate floor. Landed with a massive thunk , a crash , really. Her knees hurt, she’d probably scraped them-

“ Ow -” She pushed herself to her elbows.

"You okay?" Sora looked worried. He offered a hand to help her up.

She hesitated for a second, then figured that Sora had probably seen her statue-posting already anyway. She accepted his hand up, but was sure not to put any weight there. Once she was standing up, she brushed off her cloak. Carpet. Not the biggest fan of carpet, but at least she wasn’t clinking.

"That looked like it hurt."

"That sounded like it hurt." Sora shot Riku another look.

She turned gray- that was happening a lot-, “I’m alright, Just landed wrong, I guess.” She took a few limping steps down the hall. She’s normal. She’s normal. She would walk like she’s norma-

She suddenly grabbed them both by the shoulders and pulled them behind a plant. She hid herself (them behind her) and looked out from behind the massive vase, heart beating out of her chest. Footsteps and vague cursing could be heard from down the hall. Familiar cursing.

The boys looked at each other, but kept quiet. They knew something was going on. Probably knew whoever was down the hall was the ex she had mentioned.

She wished she had a weapon.

She tried to make herself smaller. All else failed she could probably wreck his shit- she was better at standing up to him when there were children present.

{Name redacted]’s voice grew louder, “Fucking stripey-ass liberal cuck , fucking gay-ass fucking light gun fucking cuck ass pansy ass-”

She put one arm vaguely behind her and to the side, like they were in a car and she’d had to slam on the brakes. The ‘mom-seatbelt’, she thought it was called.

“Fucking hiding on the ceiling fucking coward -” He came into view. Gods above , he looked terrible. Limping something terrible , practically dragging his leg behind him, a trail of blood leaving his decimated ankle- the same leg that Stanley had shot and then she herself had kicked (rough few days for that leg) (she almost felt bad) (then she told invisible Aphrodite to shut up). “Wife-stealing back-stabbing, lying fucking woke bastard-”

Sora looked at her and gestured ever so slightly with his head. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

She took a second to decipher that look, then nodded slightly. Her heart was pounding, she felt like she was 14 years old again and he was angry at Paphus-

Sora and Riku shared a look, then nodded. Without looking for her approval, the two slowly, silently moved in front of her like a shield.

[No!] She signed, trying to pull Sora back-

"It's okay," he mouthed. "Doesn't look that scary." He held his keyblade in one hand.

She shook her head, pained. But he was getting closer, and moving too much would be the wrong move -

“Fucking cuck ass no bitches ass- ” He straightened slightly and looked directly at Sora and Riku- a jolt shot through her entire body- “You, boys-”

"Not interested, dude." Sora's voice was cold.

“Have you seen [OMITTED LAYER 2] anywhere?” her blood ran cold , “Striped-ass cuck stole her and then wouldn’t hold up his end of the fucking bargain. Shot me. So much for the tolerant left .”

"Don't know who that is." Riku shrugged. "You should probably be more worried about that leg instead of some girl."

“It cauterized . I’m fine. Statue chick? This tall?” He gestured to Showie’s height, she felt sick - “All white? Might be wearing a liberal-ass coat?”

"Sorry, man. Never seen anyone like that. Good luck."

[name redacted] rolled his eyes at them and then kept limping down the hall, cursing. Soon he was out of sight, then out of earshot.

Showie took a shaky breath, tears in her eyes, and said in a pained whisper, “ Don’t get in front of me like that, you don’t know what he’s like-” She was shaking and trying to hide it.

"We aren't just gonna let him hurt you." Riku crossed his arms.

"Besides, he's already hurt, he's unarmed, and there's two of us."

‘But Mom , there’s two of us-’

She sort of gasped, “No. No. If we run into him again, you stay behind me . I can take him, I took him for years . I-” she tugged her hood down some more, “-We- we should find Br-” pause- “-Xigbar, i mean, we should find Xigbar.”

"With all due respect," Riku started, "We've been up against way worse than a creep like that. We can handle it." He paused. "But… Yeah, let's go find Xigbar. Get out of here."

“Y-yeah,” She said, hugging herself slightly, “L-lets go.”

She paused.

“I- I know you can handle it, but I-” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Anyway. Kitchen. Xigbar. We should go.”

She hesitantly stepped out from behind the plant, and they continued down the hall. She kept looking behind her. If he came back, she was gonna charge him. Like a bull. Break his face.

"Hey, don't worry! You're safe with us around!" Sora grinned, flexing for emphasis. Probably would've had more emphasis if his arms weren't sticks.

She tilted her head with a sad sort of smile. It wasn’t her she was worried about. Pushing the flashback of Paphus’s voice aside, she paused for a second, then they reached the stairs.

“Okay,” she said, “It’s just up these stairs and down the hall. The kitchen sort of- it’s kind of integrated into the hallway, like it has its own room, but no separating walls.” She looked at the tablet, “Xigbar’s gonna be on the ceiling, mostly blind. I think he has his arrowguns drawn. I’ll talk first, okay? Let him know he’s safe.”

"Right. And we'll keep a lookout. Just in case." Sora nodded.

She didn’t like the sound of that, but she nodded, and they began going up the stairs. Wet spots dotted the carpet. [Nickname redacted]’s blood. Her stomach churned slightly as she climbed. She tried to avoid the trail. She still didn’t have shoes.

They came up to the landing, and she peered down the hall to the kitchen alcove- alcove! That’s the word she’d been looking for. She saw an arrowgun bolt sticking out of the floor.

There was a clicking sound, like he was readying another shot, wherever he was. Clearly he could hear them coming, and was in a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of mood.

She relaxed slightly. Safe. She started walking down the hall. As she got within shooting range, she said, “Xigb-”

She ducked as a bolt flew over her head-

“ SHIT - Sorry, doll- You startled me. I didn't hit you, did I?”

“Oh, no, I have very fast reflexes,” She said, waving it off (though he couldn’t see), “Though I will admit I was just tempted to stay quiet for a second, just to mess with you.” Joke. Laugh.

"Felt you coming from a mile away." He grinned and dropped to the floor. "Good thing about space powers- I can pretty much feel where everything around me is. Don't need to see."

She smiled. Safe. “That’s good, considering your current-” She gestured at his face, “-situation. Anyway, Sora and Riku are here. We saw you-know-who. Outed me to them instantly. Called you ‘woke’. You know how it is.”

"Ugh, great. Now there's two of 'em." He made absolutely no effort to hide the disdain in his voice. "Whatever. I can deal. He didn't see you, did he?"

She let out a vaguely frustrated sigh, “ No . They got in front of me. I-” She waved her hands, “Everything’s fine. I’m okay. You be nice.”

Sora glanced between them and Riku and nudged him with his elbow. Riku crossed his arms, but nodded in a 'yeah, you're right' sort of way. Sora grinned knowingly.

"You say that like you don't think I can be nice." Braig paused, grinning. "You'd be right, but still."

“Yeah, you can’t be nice. That’s totally evident in the way you interact with me ,” She said sarcastically. “Behave. We need to head back to the apartment to get some things.” She held out her hand for him to grab, remembered he was pretty much blind, then walked a few steps to grab it. “I’ll lead you. Everything’s fine.” (everything was not fine, she was freaking out). “Everything’s fine.”

"Let me know if you want me to shoot him again. Blow the whole leg clean off. The shock'll knock him out, and we'll be long gone before he wakes up." The grin on his face turned sadistic. "That's when the real pain sets in. Make him WISH he could die."

“I’ll remind you that if he dies, I die-” She pointedly did not look at Sora and Riku, “and, um, also, behave. Let’s go to the apartment now.”

"I am behaving! What's wrong with wanting to maim a wife beating freak like that?"

“We’re going to the apartment now,” she pulled on his arm and started walking towards the door.

Sora and Riku shared an uncomfortable look. They both looked like they wanted to say something, but were keeping quiet about it. Riku almost looked like he wanted to, on some level, agree with Braig.

She squeezed Braig’s hand in a way she hoped conveyed ‘stop being violent in front of the children who hate you I want them to like me’, but probably didn’t. She gave them a kind of apologetic smile.

Pretty soon they were at the door, and she pulled out her key and unlocked it. She opened the door-

“ [OMITTED LAYER 2]- ” A voice began, furiously-

NOPE.

She grabbed an arrowgun from Braig, pushed him into the room, grabbed both Sora and Riku by the shirts and pushed them into the room, then closed and locked the door, leaving her in the hall with him and them locked inside. She was not putting up with this.

She leveled the arrowgun at his chest like she knew how to fire it.

"Showie- what the hell?!" Braig pounded on the door.

“Shut it, bucket boy!” She shouted. She stared directly at [name redacted] and tried to find the trigger on the arrowgun without looking like she didn’t know where it was.

She couldn’t find it. Okay, so this was a bluff. She could bluff .

She fixed her gaze on [name redacted], leveled the arrowgun, and charged .

“ FUCK! ” He tried to turn around and limp away- she could probably stop now, but this wasn’t quite a bluff anymore. The door burst open 20 feet behind her- 30 feet behind her- 40-

She turned the arrowgun around and slammed the butt of it into [Name Redacted]’s back, sending him sprawling on the floor.

“Get- away- ” She snarled, “You cannot- ”

One of the sets of footsteps stopped short, just before the other two did as well. The stop was abrupt, like someone – Braig – yanked them back.

"Wait. Let her do this." His voice was calm. A complete shift from the almost feral bloodlust it usually carried in situations involving [Name Redacted].

“Oh, you don't let me do anything, Braig,” She said without looking back. She spun the arrowgun around in one hand and pushed the tip of a bolt into [Name Redacted]’s back, hoping she didn’t accidentally fire. She heard him whimper.

“ Aww ,” she said, “Someone scared ?”

Whimper.

Good.

“Not so big now, are you? Where’s that bravery you had when Paphus disappeared? Huh? All gone?” She said like she was talking to a young child. “You gonna crawl away now or am I gonna have to hurt you?”

He stiffened.

“ Oh, you recognise that line, don’t you?” She took a step back, pulled the tip of the bolt off of his back enough to allow him to crawl away. “Crawl away, little one. Crawl. ”

He crawled, shaking. Whimpering. Good.

She rested the arrowgun on her shoulder (because copying Braig was funny), and watched as he made his way to the stairs and then awkwardly slid down them. Not even going back to his apartment, then. Just going away .

She grinned, taking a deep breath, then turned back to look at them.

Evidently, Braig had shoved Sora and Riku back into the apartment at some point. Or maybe they had gone in themselves. Either way, he had a giant, proud grin on his face.

"That. Was. Awesome. "

She grinned at him, unsure if she should make a joke or not.

You know what?

She scoffed playfully, “Awesome? As if -” She held in the laugh, “I was just showing him what’s changed in the last two thousand years.” She handed the arrowgun back to him, “And what hasn’t. He should know better than to try shit with me with kids in the room.” She walked back to the apartment, looking into the open door, “You two alright?”

"Y-Yeah…" Admittedly, they did look a bit shaken. Especially Sora. "Are you ?"

“Oh, yeah, I’m great,” she said honestly. Then- “I don’t know how much you saw, but don’t worry, I didn’t hurt him. I let him crawl away.” A pause. “Sorry for throwing you into the apartment.”

"You had to deal with it yourself," Riku spoke up. "I know what it's like."

She looked at him with mild concern, then nodded. “From now on, we run into him, get behind me.” she paused, “But we shouldn’t run into him again.”

She stepped into the apartment. She tinked to the other side of the room, picking up the laptop, sash, bag-

"If you want, when we get back I can show you how to actually fire it."

She looked behind her- Braig was developing one hell of a black eye. She had supplies at home. She could heal him. And invisible Aphrodite would be ignored during the process. “Eh, maybe. I think I favor more close range weapons,” She said like she was familiar with weapons. She wasn’t, but that- just then- had felt good . “It re-” She paused. Not relevant. “Anyway,” She said, “Here.”

She tinked over to him, “Put these in your little pocket dimension thingy-” She handed him her laptop and her bag.

"Yeah, okay-" He flicked his wrist and they were gone. He could retrieve them later.

“And put thiiiiis -” She turned the sash wrong-side in so that Sora and Riku couldn’t see the lettering, not that he had to know that- “On!” She pulled him down to her level and put the sash on him.

“Oh-” she said, “And i'm taking the little soaps. Not that I don’t have soaps but-” She reconsidered the last part of her sentence, self censoring, “But I gotta.” She tinked into the bathroom.

"Aw, am I a trophy boyfriend now?" He joked, readjusting the sash so it wasn't touching his neck.

“Like you weren’t before?” She grinned, taking the soaps and also the tissue box (put it in her inside pocket). Then she tinked back out and took the batteries from the tv remote.  Why? >:3.

"Ha! Got you to admit I'm your boyfriend!"

She looked at him, baffled, and didn’t say anything for a second. Then, “You didn’t already know that? Skill issue.”

"Cringe. You liiiike me."

She threw a battery at his head. He didn’t see it and it bounced off his forehead, “Talk to me when you make me regr-” She froze. “-et. The. embarrassing tattoo you totally have that you showed me, CRINGE.” She threw another battery at him, and it bounced off his chest this time. Not as good of a shot, admittedly. She’d been aiming for his head again. Better than hitting his eye, though.

She needed to stop fumbling conversations. Now that was a skill issue.”

"Come on , they don't need To know I've got a tramp stamp."

She picked the battery back up and threw it again. Bonk.

“Cool, that’s everything! Let's go!”

Now all they needed to do was go get-

“Oh, fuck.” She said, her voice deadly serious.

"What?" Braig turned to 'look' at her (his eye was so swollen at that point it was invisible. [Name Redacted] got him good .).

“There’s Destiel downstairs.” She paused. “Okay!” She tinked over to him and grabbed his hands, “Okay. You have got to act, like, normal? Around Dean and Cas. Castiel. Call him Castiel.”

"Aww, am I not normal? I'm hurt, doll. Wounded, even."

“Listen to me, you need to, like, tone it down 7000% or else I’ll die. I’ll melt like a witch. I’ll simply perish.”

" Alright , alright. I know when to keep my mouth shut."

She looked at him. Stared. “You better. Or else.”

"Can you two please stop flirting-" Sora looked absolutely uncomfortable. Probably because of the tramp stamp comment. Which was funny because that wasn’t even true , and she knew it. Poor kid was most likely still thinking about the tumblr incident.

“This isn’t flirting this is me asking him not to be evil in front of Castiel and Dean Winchester.” She let go of his hands, “But yeah. Sorry. We should go.”

"If that wasn't flirting, I'm terrified to see what it actually looks like between you two," said Riku.

She gave him an apologetic smile, thinking of Paul Matthews. And Violence. And Blood. “Sorry,” She said. “Anyway!”

She took one final look at the room, thought briefly about how she would kind of miss this place (it had been here that she’d forced Braig to watch supernatural) (they hadn’t gotten to season 4 yet but he would know Dean, at least.) (Cringe), and then grabbed his hand and led him out of the room. Could he use his space powers to see? Yeah, probably. But she liked to feel helpful, and he wasn’t stopping her.

“Ooookay,” She said once they were near the staircase, “So this is the way that Mr. Sma-” she paused, “My evil ex- went. If we run into him all of you need to stay behind me. All of you.” She squeezed Braig’s hand. “Not that he can do much in this state but I want him to learn that he can’t mess with me anymore.”

"Hell yeah. Get his ass."

Sora looked like he wanted to say something, but ultimately decided against it.

Looked back at the stairs (and the three trails of blood on them. Down, Up, Down, she figured. She looked at Braig, “Give me an arrowgun.”

"Wish I had a working eye. Get to actually see you girlbossing it up." He summoned one – his left –  and offered it to her.

She rested it on her shoulder (honestly, it as a weapon was meant for someone much taller than her, it was unwieldy), and then started down the stairs, Braig in tow.

She wanted to look cool and competent on her way down, but was mainly focusing on not tripping and landing on the arrowgun, which would be an embarrassing way to go. Probably traumatizing for everyone involved as well. Especially Braig, not that he’d admit it. But they reached the landing without incident. Thankfully.

They reached the stairs and the next landing and hallway and the tunnel without incident, too. Also without conversation.

As they entered the tunnel, she felt her hands start to sweat. She was glad she wasn’t wearing pigment.

It was embarrassing. She’d literally just faced down the cause of every nightmare for the past 2000 years, and now she was scared the gay angel wouldn’t like her. Well. Alas.

Soon the only light came from the torch Sora was holding.

“Okay,” she said quietly, her voice echoing, “The arena is just behind that door. And then there’s a door leading out of the arena. Blue-” she glanced back at Sora (who she could see well) and Riku (who she could not) “That’s the pollrunner for this tournament- I asked them please and they told me where the exit was. They also said we could take a few people from the arena. That’s Dean and Castiel-” her heart sped up, “and then we exit the doors, and the torch should activate the mist tunnels. Not sure how long we’ll be in those , though. Always different, but it shouldn’t be too long.”

"Oh, yeah… Should warn you- Apartment's still a wreck. The kins have been avoiding me." Braig shrugged, like he hadn't done anything to cause it. She had a very strong feeling this was not the case. She was charmed, though. She wanted someone who would break shit if she was in danger but would not break her . Choo choo.

“That’s fine. That’s fine.” She squeezed his hand. Maybe a little too tight. “That’s fine.” She paused. “That’s fine.”

"Promise I don't normally lose my shit like that."

She was losing her nerve. What a fucking skill issue . “No, it's fine. Everything’s fine.”

She stared at the door. She should probably open it.

She couldn’t.

“Sorry I’m just having a skill issue right now. Can someone else open the door.”

"I got it-" Sora – the delightful little guy he is – moved to the front of the group to open the door.

The door swung open, and she maybe lowkey pulled Braig’s arm in front of her. Not the whole Braig. Just his arm. It was fine.

Dean and Castiel were a few feet away. Dean was bloody and Cas was reaching over to heal him. She didn’t have butterflies. Nope.

"Hey, guys!" Sora said brightly. "Sorry that took so long! Ran into a little trouble."

“Trouble?” Dean looked over at them, the blood on his face disappearing as Castiel healed him and also cleaned him up. She squeezed Braig’s hand. “Not the wack-job running this joint?”

"Nah, different guy. Showie took care of him, though! She's super cool." Sora put a hand on her shoulder and grinned.

She adored this child. She was going to find every member of Organization 13 that wasn’t Xigbar and Hurt Them. She sort of smiled and probably hurt Braig’s hand with how tight she was squeezing it. He didn't comment on it.

“Showie?” Castiel turned to look at them, she said her name . He tilted his head and squinted . And- oooooh he saw right through her, didn’t he.

“Yep that’s my name,” She said without really thinking, “Or, like, a nickname I guess. A shortened version of the name I’m using right now-” DID SHE ACTUALLY JUST QUOTE A LINE HE SAID BACK TO HIM SHE WAS GONNA SAY PLEASE HERSELF- “And, um, yeah.”

He continued to give her that look - augh- but didn’t say anything. He totally knew who she was- oh. Dizzy. Fuck.

“Hey, uhhhm, Brrigxar?” Black spots. Fuck.

"Close enough- Showie?"

Her vision dissolved.

--

“You really gotta stop fainting on me."

She felt the cool concrete on her legs and one arm. And warmth. Mm.

“Whagt?” Her eyes flickered open. She could make out Sora’s face (concerned) and not much else.

"Hey, up here-" A hand waved over her forehead.

She stared at it. Looked weird in shadow. She thought it was… ough. Blanking on the name. The only one coming to mind was ‘Luxu’ and she wasn’t saying that outloud.

"Come on, I know you didn't hit your head this time." His voice was teasing. But not mean.

She groaned slightly. Name. Xxxxxx………… not Xaldin… Not… Xemnas… It was funny, those were the names she normally forgot . Not Xehanort. Fuck.

"Shit… you okay?" Now he sounded worried.

She vaguely shook her head. Brrrrrrr…… hm. Blanking.

"Give us a minute." He wasn't talking to her this time – addressing people standing nearby.

People,,,,,,, Sora and Rion. Rion? Riku . Her brain was messed up for something. Brain. Brain…

She stared at His silhouette. Her brain was definitely messed up or something. But she’d made a connection…

“Bragi?” That was right. No it wasn’t. It was close? It was a name, kind of? Watch her be wrong. But it sounded familiar? At least she didn’t say Xehanort , that would have been embarrassing.

"... Close enough." He let out a soft, low chuckle. "You got scrambled, huh?"

“Is that a name?” Or did she say nonsense.

"Yeah, it's a name. Not the current one, but close enough. Same letters, just the wrong order."

Her eyes fluttered shut, “I’m glad I didn’t say nonsense. Or some bullshit.” Pause, “Those are ‘frent things

"Yeah…" He moved, and a lock of his hair –  it was loose? –  brushed her. "What happened there?"

“What happened where?” Not the current name? What was the current name? Oh, her brain was fucked .

"Your whole…" He twirled one hand. "fainty thing."

She considered it. Not the fainty thing. His hand. She wanted to paint his nails, maybe. Then she forgot the question.

“What?”

"Ah, you're still all janked, huh? It's okay. We've got time."

“I love you,” She said without thinking. She had a headache.

"H-" he sounded caught off guard. She still couldn't quite see his face. "I- … Love you, too."

She stared off into the dark.

He didn't say anything for a little while. Maybe just giving her time. "Do you want me to carry you?"

On the one hand, she was feeling slightly better and could probably walk. On the other hand, if he carried her that would make him look softer and kinder to Sora and Riku. Decisions, decisions.

But

“W- wait, can’t you not see?” She reached up hesitantly and touched his eyepa-

XIGBAR.

And touched his eyepatch.

"Don't need to. I can tell where everything is." He leaned ever so slightly into her touch. "Benefits to controlling space."

Hm. Considering. Not the carrying question. Considering if she should. Yeah. Yeah, she was gonna.

She grabbed some of his hair in her fist and pulled him down and kissed him.

“Yeah, carry me. I’m fucked up.” A lie.

He swore quietly under his breath. "Y-Yeah. Okay." He did… something, and she started floating? Only for a second. Just long enough for him to stand and scoop her up.

She rested her head against his chest and she felt him walk back over to the ground.

“Is she good?” Said-

She let out a shriek and her entire body jolted.

She forgot about DEAN.  and CASTIEL.

"... Long day." Xigbar didn't go into detail, thankfully. "She'll be fine soon enough."

She pointedly did not look at them . Now she remembered why she’d fainted. She also remembered the name Braig, which was also cool.

“So, uh, what now?” said Dean . “She said there was a way out of the arena?”

Humiliating.

"Yeah,  uh- Sora. Gonna need that torch."

She frowned. Didn’t want to speak to protest. Looked at him like ‘what??’. Wondered if his space powers allowed him to tell what she was saying if she didn’t say it outloud. Mouthed, ‘he can carry it. Besides, you’ll set me on fire.’

"... Orrrr not. You figured it out to get here. Sure you're smart enough to get us back."

"Oh! Yeah, I got it." He blinked. "... How do I use it again?"

"The one time I have faith in you," Braig scoffed. "If I could roll my eye, I would be."

She frowned, then mouthed into his chest, ‘you just exit the arena. The torch will generate the mist tunnels and you follow its pull.’

"We just go. The mist tunnels'll form on their own and the torch will pull you in the right direction." He shifted her in his arms. "So. You're the lead here, kiddo."

She smiled slightly at ‘kiddo’, even though she knew that was something he said to be mean. Didn’t really care. ‘The arena exit is a door on the opposite side of the arena from us. Blue’s given us permission to leave- the door should open easily once we approach.’

“The exit’s over there-” He nodded in the direct she’d indicated, “This place’s showrunner-” She frowned. “Has- uh.” He hesitated. “Said we can leave. The door should just open.”

“Oh, okay! Cool.” Sora said.

The group set off, crossing the arena. The other eliminated competitors must have been treating each other’s wounds or something, because they didn’t attack them. As they approached the door, she heard it swing open. Heard, because she wasn’t looking. It was too dangerous to look. Castiel was out there. This was so embarrassing.

She felt cool air envelop them as they crossed the threshold. Mist clouded her vision. Braig could probably see the best out of all of them right now, but not for long. Things didn’t really exist in the mist tunnels.

She felt her senses go dull. Not gone, no, she could still use all of them. Her hearing was fine, her eyes were normal, it’s just that the world around her had become about as clear as a drawing sketched and erased fifty times over. Lines blurred upon lines and when she looked down, she could not even see Braig’s arms. She could not feel them.

“What the fuck? ” Braig’s voice sounded distant. There was reverb, like she was only hearing his echo. Yeah, his space powers probably wouldn’t be much use here. “Showie-”

“It’s alright,” she said out loud, “This is normal-” Her own echo was disorienting. “I- ough, set me down-”

It took a minute, but he did. Probably trying to figure out how.

Once she was on the ground, she stood up with tense legs. Not because she was scared– this was normal, and she’d done this before– but because her legs felt all staticy, and the ground felt equally as solid. It seemed like it was missing, like there wasn’t anything there– and yet, she knew if she continued walking she would move forward.

She took hold of Braig’s hand, “It’s easy to lose people in here,” she said, “If you’re traveling in a group of more than, like, three. So we need to be careful. We need to stay connected somehow.” She wasn’t going to suggest holding hands, but she was going to send out psychic beams so someone else would suggest holding hands.

“Oh, we could hold hands!” Sora called out, his cheerful voice echoing and reverbing in her eardrums in a way that was both overwhelmingly loud and far too distant.

“We-” Braig started.

“Good idea,” She cut him off, trying to figure out how this would work. “Ummmmm,” She said, “Riku, grab onto Sora’s arm-” She pulled Braig forward, towards Sora, “Sora, hold onto me-” He did- now how would the rest of this work. How was she gonna connect Destiel to Braig. Thinking for a second, she figured that he probably couldn’t hurt Cas that bad. “Xigbar-” She was glad she remembered his name :) “Reach back and hold onto Castiel. Uh, Dean, you too.” Her voice was firm. No room for argument there. :).

There was a bit of shuffling about as everyone held hands and formed a nice human chain (or, well. Mostly human. Humanoid, at least), and then everyone murmured or said that they were ready to go.

“Alright!” said Sora. “So, I uh, just walk? And hold the torch?”

“Yeah!” She said, feeling Braig squeezing her hand a little too tight. Nervous? Lost? Blind? Unhappy about holding hands with Castiel? All four? “The torch will clear a path in the mist as it goes.”

“Okay!” Sora called out, and then, they began to walk the tunnels.

They were no more or less disorientating than before, but they were connected. The fog still felt like it was seeping through her, muffling and clogging and blunting her senses, but she had hands to hold onto.

And she knew this path would take her home.

#### Some Worth in Life Chapter 5 [Threads pull, golden hold]

Showie’s cloak was still damp from the cool, thick mist she’d been walking through for several hours. She’d made the decision (perhaps a questionable one) (okay. Definitely a questionable one) (fine. The decision was just bad. It was bad)(but oh well) to leave Braig in the apartment with Sora and Riku while she took Stanley (carrying him bridal style) back into his apartment, where she thought the Narrator would be. And he was. In a small snowglobe resting on the middle of Stanley’s coffee table (Braig hadn’t broken that one) (yet).

The Narrator looked up at her with a weary sort of gaze, his eyes widening at the sight of Stanley. He stood up and stared at her.

Not taking her eyes off of the snowglobe, she crossed the room and set Stanley gently onto the couch. She could do this. She could do this. He was nerfed, and she was, objectively at the moment, more powerful than him.

She turned to the snowglobe and signed.

[Narrator? Can you understand me or is there too much distortion from the glass?]

The Narrator made a small face– a bit hard to tell exactly what expression it was, given the small scale– and nodded his head shortly.

[I am going to let you out to help Stanley. Do you understand?]

He immediately nodded, eager and earnest.

She hesitated slightly. She hoped he couldn’t see it. She was doing this. She was doing this. She was in control. Not of everything, sure, but of enough. She was capable. Even if the person who said that was probably a spy of some kind. Still true.

And confidence was key here. She couldn’t afford to give an inch.

She regarded the snowglobe for a moment, steeling her gaze from under her hood. Then she raised an ivory-white hand and snapped.

The snowglobe vanished around him. In truth, it appeared back in Braig’s pocket. For later, if need be.

“Hello, Narrator.”

The Narrator looked up at her with his yellow eyes, his slitted pupils sharp and harsh as he looked at her. He steadily grew back to the size of a regular cat, and he walked over to Stanley tensely.

“Showrunner.” he said stiffly, as he took his human form.

And he was…. wearing a bikini. You know, she’d seen the Braig bikini picture and she had to say, Braig looked much better. She wasn’t quite comfortable being around someone wearing so little clothing, but that fact, ridiculously, helped.

“Are you aware of what’s wrong with him?” Maybe not the best way to phrase that question. She wasn’t. Aware, that is.

The Narrator glared at her, glanced down at his body, sighed, and then crouched down near to Stanley. He prodded at Stanley’s neck gently, and then looked back up at her.

“His code was altered.” the Narrator said with venom. “Fundamentally altered. Because he degraded. Because you revived him. Because you tried to play at being a god.”

“I wasn’t playing at anything, Narrator,” She said cooly, “Necromancy is a perfectly mortal power. The will degradation, it altered his code? Is that why he collapsed at the conflicting commands? My… ex… tried to kidnap him, which would have been catastrophic. I intervened.”

“He–” the Narrator sighed heavily, and touched a hand to Stanley’s right shoulder. “He collapsed?” he asked nervously.

“Yes. My ex tried ordering him to- I don’t remember the exact phrasing, but things such as ‘you need to be controlled’, ‘come with me’, ‘you want me’. I attempted to get him away- to counter,” She said, “I said things like, ‘No you don’t’, ‘you don’t want him’, ‘he’s pathetic and his dick is small’- you know, the like. But then,” She took a step to the side and bent slightly at the waist, peering down at Stanley from below her hood, “he collapsed. I feared he was dead. But then I brought him to you.”

“I see.” the Narrator murmured. “Yes, he– he can’t die. Not– not as long as I have anything to say about it. That– look. This… this issue? With his will? That’s as unusual to me as his mouth going missing. I’m not familiar with any of that. I– he’s not supposed to be like that! He’s…” The Narrator moved his hand to hold Stanley’s own, in a tight grip, as if it was the last lifeline he had, “he’s… well, Stanley isn’t like that. Not Stanley. Not as I know him, whatever was… originally meant for the Parable. I– I know that any changes that happened to him would have eroded his code.”

He paused, and began tapping his fingers against his knee, as if thinking.

“The mouth thing– that’s a contained incident. One glitch, one erosion. The will? That’s more of… a floodgate, being opened. Every command layered onto him… a further erosion. The conflicting ones might have been worse, or perhaps the dam broke at just the wrong time.”

He looked back down at Stanley, and his gaze hardened.

“Regardless. He’s like this now.”

“I see,” She said. It could have been much worse, and she’d let him know that if he pressed her. She wouldn’t be guilted, not today. “Will he recover?”

“If you let me fix him.” the Narrator said firmly.

“Am I stopping you?” she tilted her head, the question rhetorical, “I let you out of the snowglobe for a reason, Narrator.”

The Narrator looked at her, and then stood up. He stepped away from her and around to the other side of Stanley’s body.

“You can’t bother me.” he said firmly. “You can’t disrupt this. And I– I don’t want you to put me back in there.”

“I wasn’t trying to bother you, or disrupt this. Am I impeding you in some way? Preventing you from helping him?”

The Narrator blinked.

“You want to watch?” he said incredulously.

That sounded a bit off color, but oh well. “It’s my arena. I’ll see whether I’m in the room or not. Is my being in the room stopping you?” Not technically true. But her intern would. And she’d snitch to Showie in an instant.

“I mean to say– you can. You most certainly can. In person, as well. It’s just… well, it’s a procedure. Invasive. Time-consuming. I don’t know… I suppose I’ll just start at it, then. You can leave if you need to.”

He picked up Stanley and carefully carried him over to the bed, and gently undid the buttons of Stanley’s flannel.

Ah. She decided to pretend that didn’t make her nervous. Certainly it didn’t remind her of anything that had happened to her. That was ridiculous. She straightened her back and remained where she was.

The Narrator, now with exposed access to Stanley’s abdomen, took a deep breath, and then… pushed. At the skin. With his hand.

And then–

Oh, gods, it fucking went into his body.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand up. But she didn’t move. This didn’t bother her. She would not shudder.

The Narrator pursed his lips, and carefully, slowly, pulled out a single golden thread. Its end was frayed slightly, and he sighed at the sight of it. He let go, and the thread floated loosely in the air, and then he turned back to the Showrunner.

“I need to get all of his threads out before I can put them back in correctly.” he said softly. “Figure out which ones are damaged, reconnect them properly, and… find which ones are still alright. That– that will take a while. To dislodge them all. He’s a very complex being.”

“I see,” She said, her voice level. She didn’t want to leave Stanley alone with him. Perhaps that was ridiculous, but also perhaps not.

“You’re staying?” the Narrator asked, and then he sighed. “No, of course you are. Alright. Well, I’m not going to make this pretty just for you.”

And with that, he reached his hand into Stanley’s stomach again.

As the Narrator began to methodically draw out threads, he mumbled a question.

“Why did you bring him back the second time?”

“Pardon?”

“With– I understand that he was brought back the first time because he said ‘please’, or something of that sort.” the Narrator continued in a bit more of an assertive voice. “But the second time? Why then?”

“I suppose you can say that someone else said ‘please’,” She said, “They wanted him back, and I obliged.” True. But certainly not the whole story.

“And after that?” the Narrator asked. “He died, I saw it, and then you returned him. Along with a great many others. Why?”

“Ah. Well,” she brought a hand up and examined her nails- chipped. Of course. “I’m afraid that revival wasn’t entirely my doing. Merely an overcharge of magic in the force field. Pulled everyone back in.” True. She didn’t mention she was pretty sure Amy had facilitated it, but true.

The Narrator hmmed, as he pointedly pulled out another thread and cast it in her general direction. That was six threads in total, now.

“And you then kept him in one of your apartments because…?”

“I was concerned. Initially I intended to simply undo the degradation I was aware of- his mouth- but then after a bit of research I found a few things I found rather concerning.” She picked at a flake of nail polish, “The initial command was unintentional. I’d’ve never do something like that on purpose. I asked him to let me help him, and he- I didn’t know about the will issues- said yes.”

The Narrator looked at her, processing what she had said as he squinted his eyes.

“What was concerning?” he asked with some trepidation. “And might that have anything to do with how you… snowglobed me?”

“Astute observation.” She wondered what Braig was doing right now. She hoped he wasn’t bullying Sora. If Sora was bullying Braig, that was okay. “I’m sorry to say some of what I learned reminded me quite a bit of that aforementioned ex.”

“The– the ex that tried to kidnap him?” the Narrator said like he was testing out the words, as if he wasn’t quite sure that sentence was correct.

“Just so.” She said stiffly.

“...why did your ex want to kidnap Stanley?”

“Well,” She said, “I imagine he wanted to take advantage of his will issues.” She walked over to a dresser, her heels clicking on the marble floor. She picked up the Birthday Button. Examined it.

The Narrator blinked, pulled out a thread, and then rested his hands on his lap. He looked at the Showrunner intently.

“I wouldn’t do that.” he said firmly. “That– he really wanted to do that sort of shit?”

“It’s what he was used to.” She said. Shame he had continued that sentence. She’d had a comeback to the first part ready for weeks.

“Used to?” the Narrator said incredulously. “With– what–”

He stared at her with scrutinizing eyes, almost like he was trying to see into her very soul.

“Who is he?” he asked firmly. “What sort of thing is he, that he would– do that.”

She raised an eyebrow, not that he could see it, “You expect me to simply tell you his name? His name and mine are unfortunately quite intertwined. I’d as soon tell you my own.”

“You told him your name.” The Narrator muttered pointing at Stanley. “Or, at least, I– I think you did?”

“I did,” she said evenly. “Stanley’s not you.”

“He trusts me.” the Narrator responded in turn. “He knows me. He’ll tell me once he’s awake again.”

“And I trusted my ex. I was made to.” Her voice was cold.

The Narrator stared at her, and then laughed, almost incredulously.

“You think– he wasn’t made to trust me.” the Narrator said bitterly. “He wasn’t made to– he– what we have was not originally intended. Not by me, not by my superiors, not by the world that is our own life force. We hated each other, in the start. Did you know that? Did you know that what we have is grown? That we have to fight for every inch of tenderness against a world that is made to be monotonous and uncaring and hopeless?”

“You blew him up without hesitation because he pressed the wrong button.” She said coldly.

“I did. And I do, if he follows that path.” the Narrator said carefully. “Because that’s what that path is. That’s what the Story demands. That doesn’t mean I hate him.”

She raised an eyebrow again. Again, not that he could see it. “Is that so?”

“I don’t hate him.” the Narrator repeated. “In fact, I’d say that I care about him very, very much. I think– my purpose, when it comes down to it, revolves around him. He is… he is so much. So wonderful.”

She bristled. She’d heard that sentence before.

The Narrator reached a hand in near to Stanley’s heart, and pulled out a blackened, corroded thread. He sucked in a wistful breath.

“We are trapped there.” the Narrator said lowly, smoothly, as he let the thread drift aside. “I do not think I would have found him to be of any particular import had we met under normal circumstances. But what could be normal for something like us?”

He looked up at her, glanced at her hands, and then said softly,

“Did you have a creator?”

“I did. I suppose I do.” She said stiffly. “He’s come up earlier in this very conversation.”

The Narrator stared at her, and then it clicked.

“Your Ex was your CREATOR?” he said incredulously.

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Narrator.” She said sharply.

The Narrator continued staring, coughed slightly, and then spoke in a more normal tone. He laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry. There– he created you. And he wanted… he wanted a being that had will issues. He wanted that.”

“Is something funny?”

“He–” the Narrator closed his eyes, pinched his brow. “He– wanted. To have. A creation. That was purposefully lesser. He wanted that. He– that was something he–”

“Lesser.”

“Not that– you are. You are not lesser. You are–” the Narrator balled his hands up into fists, his nails pressing into the skin. “You’re… full. A being, an independent being, that just so happens to have been created. And that– he– he doesn’t like that? He wants something that’s… not full? I’m just– how could he– he is a creator. He– he-”

The Narrator looked to Stanley, and then something in his mind clicked. He stood up from the bed and walked away from the Showrunner.

“You thought I would–” he started, his voice a mixture of offense, pity, and… revulsion. At… himself. “...do. That.”

“What was I supposed to assume?” She said, “It’s not like I knew where the will issues came from.”

“You said you did research!” the Narrator said, his voice growing more panicked. “He– he very clearly does not do what I say to do in the Parable! It’s one of his defining traits!”

“Well.” She said bitterly, “You can’t blame me for drawing from my own experiences.”

“I’m not blaming you.” the Narrator hissed. “I am not going to– so long as you understand, now, that I would not do something like… that.” He grimaced slightly and wrung his hands together tensely. “Urgh. Disgusting.”

She was quiet for a moment. She stared at her nails. “I see.”

The Narrator looked at her, and his face fell slightly. “No, you– you still– I scare you? Is that– am I reading this right?”

“No,” She said sarcastically, “Xigbar put you in the snowglobe for funsies.”

“I’m going to be honest– I thought that was at least half of his rationale. I– I mean now, Showrunner. Now, that I– I am weakened. I am in your domain. I swear that I am not like your past… ex. If you still– you fear me?”

She tilted her head down- she was hiding a small smile at the ‘rationale’ comment. Not funny, Showie, stop smiling. Stop.

“Okay.” he murmured. “I– that’s alright. Just– leave me outside the snowglobe, alright? Least until I do something to piss you off.”

He carefully headed back over to the bed and began to reach into Stanley’s chest once more.

She was silent for a few more moments. Gaining her composure back. The last thing she needed right now was to laugh. (She supposed she should be glad she was feeling that confident.) (fake it til you make it, perhaps.)

“I wasn’t intending on putting you back in the snowglobe,” She said, “And besides, that wasn’t even my idea. I simply asked Xigbar to move you away from Annabeth.”

The Narrator looked back at her with a raised brow.

"You say that, but you still let it happen. You took pleasure in my torment. I saw that. So, forgive me if I'm a bit lacking in my trust for you."

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” She didn’t need his forgiveness. Honestly, she didn’t care. She hoped Stanley would forgive her, but otherwise she just wanted the Narrator out of the force field. But oh well.

“I’m not planning on it.” he muttered. “I am asking you to allow me to be around Stanley; to not inconvenience or harm me further.”

She glared at him. Inconvenience? Seriously? As if this entire thing wasn’t a massive inconvenience to her.

The Narrator stiffened at her non-response, and then went back to pulling out threads.

“Suppose you wouldn’t promise me anything like that.” he said bitterly. “And even if you did, I doubt you’d hold to it.”

She spun to face him, “You doubt I’d hold to it? When have I broken my word?”

The narrator scoffed. “You took me away from him for no reason! And I know that wasn’t exactly a promise, but still! A breach of etiquette, as far as I’m concerned.”

“A breach of etiquette?!” She took a step towards him, “You broke into my house! My force field! You snuck in!”

“As did your boyfriend.” the Narrator sniped. “And I didn’t do anything to disrupt the place! I just entered, and then spoke to you, and then you tossed me into a dollhouse!”

“Well, I tried to stop Xigbar, too,” She said. “And I removed everyone I saw who snuck in through the food form. You’re not special.”

“I’m not–” the Narrator made an urgh sort of growl. “I. Just want. To not be imprisoned. I won’t cause any trouble. Can that work?”

She tilted her head, “And where would you go? Not to the cabin.”

The Narrator seemed to relax as he pulled out another thread and then briskly reached in again. “Well, I– with Stanley? In the apartment?”

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

She let out a little laugh.

“What?” he said with incredulity. “What’s wrong with that?”

The laugh came out kind of evil sounding. Good. She just couldn’t laugh again. Nope. Nope. Showie, don’t-

She restrained herself to a simple exhale through the nose, “‘What’s wrong with that’. Hm.”

“Fine, you don’t like that idea.” he said with a scowl. “Alright, well, where else is there? I haven’t exactly gotten the chance to explore your domain. You know, given all of the imprisonment.”

She had to think about this. She did not want him loose. She had enough entities loose. She smiled slightly at the thought of the deal she’d struck with Kayne. Ha.

She could not allow him into the cabin. Ew, no. Ummmm.

“Hm,” She said, and pressed the Birthday Button. It let out a little jingle. Fun. She did it again. Ha. One more time. Okay, stop. Stop.

She hit it one more time.

Okay, stop.

“Hm. Well, clearly the cabin isn’t an option, and I can’t exactly let you loose.” Don’t press the fucking button again, Showie.

The Narrator glanced at the button. Looked back at her. Sighed slightly, and pulled out another thread, as he waited for her to continue.

“I’m not sure, honestly,” She said, “I do suppose if you consented to more severe nerfs, you could stay in the apartment.” Where Braig could keep an eye on you, she didn’t say out loud.

The Narrator raised a brow. “I’m going to be here fixing up Stanley for at least a week. I don’t know how else to prove to you that those precautions aren’t necessary.”

He sighed heavily. “I– what sort of… nerfs, exactly?”

“Well,” She said, pulling the showrunning tablet from an inside pocket, “Let’s see what you still have. Hm. Reality warping, Spatial Manipulation, Techopathy, Summoning and Creation of Objects, Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis, Perception Manipulation of Stanley, Necrogenesis for Stanley, specifically, Resurrection, Manipulation of light and dark. Does that sound about right? That’s what you have?”

The Narrator flushed somewhat under her scrutiny, and then made a so-so motion with his hand. “I, uh. Can also change form. And– all of this is… conditional. I don’t have access to any of those powers if I’m alone.”

She added that to her notes. “Hm. Well, technopathy could certainly cause problems. Pyrokinesis, too. I might add a conditional nerf to your conjuration powers. Telekinesis will need to be downgraded severely. The perception manipulation and necrogenesis are certainly no good, either. A conditional nerf on the light and dark manipulation.” She looked up at him, “Sound fair?”

He stared at her, and then stiffly said, “No. I’ll go somewhere else if you– if that is your idea of fair.”

“What exactly is giving you pause?” If it was necrogenesis she was going to lose it.

“My– the conjuration. Of– that’s what I do. I make. I am– it’s half of– and the movement, too, the– telekinesis. I– those are like limbs to me, you don’t– I’m not just going to cut them off for your convenience.”

“Did you not hear me say conditional nerf? Only certain items would be prohibited-”

“Any removal of what I am– and, in fact, the idea that you’re so willing to just– just tear through my very essence, picking out the parts that appeal to your fancy, I– I’m not going to stand for it. No. I’ll go somewhere else. There must be some kind of middle ground in this arena that I can go to.”

“No.” She said. Anywhere other than the apartment would give him access to the competitors. No. “I’m not unreasonable. Conjuration and telekinesis intact, then? With the condition they can’t be used against Xigbar and I?”

The Narrator glared at her. “And my lights.” he said with a bitter whisper. “And then, yes. I suppose– yes, then that would be alright, if I could stay here with Stanley.”

“And the lights couldn’t be used against us either?”

“They’re lights. They look pretty. Yes, I won’t use them against you.”

“Very well,” She said, making a note of the agreement on her tablet and forwarding it to Braig, then snapping the case shut. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Lovely.” the Narrator said with a sigh, as he reached in and rooted his hand around for a bit before pulling out a rather short thread. He grimaced at the sight of that one.

“Which one is that?”

“They’re– it doesn’t work like that.” he said with a bit of contempt. “It’s just– short. Cut, you see? I– it’s hard to recover this sort of damage.”

“But you can? Is it possible?”

“I can.” he says tensely. And then, he whispered something softly under his breath as he reached in again.

“What was that?”

He looked back at her, but said nothing as he pulled out another thread. This one seemed relatively normal.

She raised an eyebrow, not that he could see. “What was that?”

“I will.” he said angrily, lowly. “I said, I will. To him. It was– it was just supposed to be for him.”

“Hm,” She flicked open the tablet again, tapping on the screen. Sending a message. She stared at the screen, waiting for a reply.

{Nope. Sorry, Showrunner. Didn’t catch that, either. -Amy}

Damn.

The Narrator silently pulled out more threads, and cast them off into the air around them. By this point, there were at least 23 floating, golden strands hanging in the air.

She watched him work in silence for a while. If she didn’t know that those threads were Stanley, she’d’ve thought the scene was pretty.

“Will he be alright?”

The Narrator tensed, and then after a beat, said, “Yes.”

“That’s good to know,” She turned the birthday button over and over in her hands. She would not press it. “I do care about him, you know.”

The Narrator glanced at her, and slowly drew out a rather long thread.

“You do?”

“Of course,” She said, “Is that so hard to believe? I’m not so sure the impact the will issues had on this, but I’d like to think we’re friends. I’m his friend, at least.”

The Narrator smiled somewhat. “You like him? You– really?” he said, with a hopeful turn of voice.

“Of course,” she said, though she was reminded of the look [Name Redacted] used to get on his face whenever she’d receive compliments.

“That’s… well, that’s good to hear.” the Narrator said, reaching in again. “Two whole friends he’s made in this place. That’s quite good. Hard to do something like that.”

She stiffened. “Is it?”

“He– he hasn’t gotten the chance to get out much. Neither of us have. And as I understand it, friendship is an arduous battle that spans many, many, confusing interactions with lots of text-boxes and paint chips and nuclear explosions right to your core.”

She blinked. “I-. What?”

“What?” he said with a bit of annoyance. “I mean, there’s also the casseroles? But that’s a lesser part, you know. And as far as I’m concerned, all of the tendons just aren’t necessary in this modern day-and-age.”

“I- w- those certainly are words. Not quite sure what any of them have to do with friendship. You know, when you like a person so you spend time with them? Talk about things?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s after you have a friend. I am speaking of the process of making one. And, well. I mean, the nuclear explosions still happen after you’ve got one– that’s what I always say, you’ll always split an atom right into my internal being. No matter how old or new, molecules can still detonate with enough force to rend souls.”

She stared at him. “And I thought Xigbar was weird.”

“Okay?” the Narrator said, digging his hand into Stanley’s lower stomach. “I’m just– I really don’t see what’s inaccurate with my description.”

“In my experience, nuclear explosions aren’t involved,” She said, still baffled, “And I’m not quite sure where you got paint chips mixed into it? You make a friend by talking to someone, or by having an experience together.” Not that this conversation was important.

“I– the explosions are… hm. I know there’s another word for it. Uh… feelings? Yes, I think that’s what mortals have. It’s how my form communicates, just as your brain sends electrical impulses. And the paint chips, why, those have color!”

“I’m not quite sure what my brain sends,” She said idly, tracing a line on her tablet case. Did she have a brain? Yeah, right? Was it ivory? She didn’t want to find out. “But sure, I’ll admit. Paint chips are colorful.”

“Your– whatever. Yes, you see? And color is step 17 in friendship.”

She tilted her head, “You separate it into steps?”

“Like– well, not literally. I do, in my notes. So I’d know how to do it again, if I ever got the chance. It’s more of a broad outline.”

She was reminded of Metharme. “Well.” She said, with a small smile (that he couldn’t see, but perhaps could hear). “That’s certainly interesting.”

“Yes, thank you. It’s a good way to keep track of things, taking notes.” the Narrator said with earnest pride as he reached into Stanley’s torso and drew out another corroded thread.

“Oh, of course,” She said, “I have pages upon pages.”

The Narrator smiled at that. “Anyway. Stanley doesn’t take notes– I know, it’s silly, but it’s his choice– and he was thrown into this new place with so many other people. So… well, I’m happy for him! Glad something good happened to him in here.”

“The cabin is designed to facilitate bonding-” She clicked over to the window, peeking through the blinds. She couldn’t see the cabin from here, but she could see where Braig had taught Stanley to shoot. And apparently simply left the table and bottles out there. “Though I’m not sure Stanley took advantage of it. From what I’m aware of, he and Cesare met in the arena.”

“Well, he was dead quite a lot of the time.” The Narrator said, a bit sullen. He sighed, and drew out a thread. “Though, I– I agree, I don’t think he’d have necessarily taken to… structured bonding.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it structured,” She said, “I simply provided opportunities. Board games- I feel like he would like those-, conversation pit, the like.”

“Yes, well– I mean, I do think he’d like board games. Especially if they’ve got buttons. But– well, he is mute. That’s a bit of a hindrance. And he’s sometimes a bit shy.”

She nodded, looking at the birthday button again. “You know, I think Cesare isn’t the only one with a positive opinion of him, at least. I don’t know if they’d consider each other friends, but he did have a little group going on.”

“He did?” the Narrator said eagerly.

“Yes,” She said, counting off with her fingers, “Him, Percy, Firestar- Graystripe was there, too, as an extension- Magnus, I believe. Hmmm, I do suppose Artemis and Prosper were there, as well, though I’m not too sure what they think of him. But Percy and Magnus, for sure, I think.”

“That’s wonderful.” the Narrator said. “I– I suppose I won’t be able to meet them, though.”

“Hm,” she said, “Well, I’m sure they’ll show up again, eventually. Cesare will probably come, too. I think they think I kidnapped Stanley- that’s not what happened, and you know that, right? I wasn’t aware of the will issues. I asked if he wanted to stay, and he said yes.”

“Yes, I understand.” the Narrator said with a nod. “And besides, you’d allow him to leave once he wakes if he wishes to.”

“Of course,” She said genuinely, “It was never my intention to force him to stay.”

He nods. “So, it’s not something I fault you for. You’re fine. It was a mistake.”

She nodded, and pressed the birthday button once more. She was glad to hear that. Not the button song. It didn’t matter what the Narrator in particular thought, but that he saw it was a mistake was a good sign.

She opened her tablet again.

“But uh– if they came here. I’d be able to meet Stanley’s friends?”

“I don’t suppose I could really stop you, even if I wanted to.” She said idly. It’d be a mere consequence of them coming to get Stanley.

“If you said that you didn’t want me to, I’d respect that. You can still nerf me. Still turn me back into a cat. I will listen to you.”

She smiled.

“So… would it bother you if I was near them? I’m not going to… do anything. Just talk. If they’re mean to Stanley I may. Drop a computer on their foot. But that’s as far as I’d take it!”

“What kind of computer?” She asked, like it mattered.

“Philips nms9100 PC.” The Narrator responded quickly.

She laughed, “I meant desktop or laptop, but alright. Thanks for the specificity.”

“Ah– it’d be a desktop, I suppose. Are there computers that can fit onto a person’s lap?”

She stared at him. “Narrator, what do you think I’m holding in my hand?” She gestured with the tablet.

“A screen.” he said, good-naturedly.

“Just that? Merely some part of a larger computer?”

“I– well, I can make things like that appear. They’re usually for show. Or connected to something through a series of wormholes.”

“Fascinating,” She said, “But no. This is a tablet, and it’s a computer all on its own-” She made a move to hand it to him, then pulled back sharply. Dumbass. “I- uh.” She turned it around to show him, taking a few steps closer. “See?” She opened and closed a few apps. “They make computers smaller, even. My phone, it doesn’t just make calls, it’s also a computer- normally that’s what I use, this tablet is largely just for showrunning, but i’m afraid the screen is broken.” She held out her (broken screened) phone.

He took the phone gingerly, and his eyes widened as he touched it.

“Oh, my. This is very modern. I– well. This is quite interesting!”

“I’m glad you think so,” She said, “That’s actually, at its core, the same phone I’ve had for 30 years now. I’ve been updating it, slowly but surely. I don't like to replace things that can simply be repaired.”

“Well, of course! I would never– well, hardly ever– scrap anything!”

She smiled, “It’s good to hear that someone agrees.”

He nodded, and reached into Stanley’s abdomen once more.

“It’s good to know we’ve found some common ground.” he agreed.

She picked the phone up off of the bed where he’d set it and put it back in her pocket. “I have a few spare phones and tablets near kin storage,” She said.

“I’ll… check that out later.” the Narrator said softly. He turned back to Stanley, and looked down at the man’s face with a tender gaze. “I really should stay focused on him. Nothing bad will happen if he stays like this, I just– I want him to be awake again.”

“Of course,” she said, slipping the tablet back into her pocket, “So do I.”

A pause.

“I should probably go make sure Xigbar hasn’t started tormenting any children or small animals,” she said, mostly joking. “If for whatever reason you need me, my apartment is right across the hall. Knock.”

“Will do.” the Narrator said evenly, reaching in again. “And– my, I– I think you understand the lengths to which this whole process will take? But– please take that into consideration when you enter. I’m only going to draw out more. It’s not… it’s a procedure, at the end of it.”

She nodded, “Of course. You’ll let me know when you’re done?”

“Done… drawing threads out? Or done with the whole repair?”

“Either,” She said, “Both. I’d like to know how things are going. As I said, I care about Stanley.”

“Alright. Yes, I can do that.”

“Alright,” She said, walking to the door and glancing over her shoulder. Golden threads floated through the air. Threads. Her hand twitched. Hm. No, she wasn’t going to think about that.

“Farewell, Narrator,” She said over her shoulder, “Talk soon?”

“I would hope so.” the Narrator called over. “And goodbye to you as well.”

She exited and shut the door behind her, crossing the hall. She opened the door to her own apartment-

Braig was on the ceiling, looking angry, and both Sora and Riku were standing off to the side, holding their keyblades. She smiled.

#### The Records Chapter 1

Xigbar

Hey what the hell did i miss why is she in a coat

Amy

Thank you for contacting me!

Late last night, after you went to sleep, the Showrunner began having another crisis, this one because she began to suspect that you did actually find information on Metharme ("he was totally lying right").

She grabbed two flasks of swamp sauce (Shrek was not summoned) and downed half of one before going into the woods to wander and yell at the gods ("it was Poseidon, wasn't it" "Apollo I'd slonk you for answers").

Instead of the gods she found the Master of Masters (who she called "Grass man" and then "Xig-dad"), who initially yelled at her to go back to bed (back to you) but after she cried out what was wrong (and expressed a suicidal thoughts) he unblocked her on Tumblr (as a show of goodwill) and began to try to comfort her.

The Showrunner, drunk, (and calling you "Braig", (he knew what she meant)) expressed that she thought you were lying to her and that it must be much worse than just being chased by a god if you weren't willing to tell her. She independently came to the conclusion that [Name Redacted] must have done something. She appeared to want to tell the Master her name ("Do you know who I am???") But he already knew it. She then asked him what happened to Metharme and Paphus.

He told her.

Upon hearing the news she dissolved into wails. The Master, maybe unintentionally, saved her life by coming down from the tree (he was in a tree) to walk her home. He let her wear his coat (he had not been wearing it this entire time. The Showrunner has Seen Him) and then half-walked half-carried her home (she commented on the fact that he was 'soft', and then threw up on his shoes. This did not upset him).

I say he saved her life because if he hadn't have done anything, her grief in that moment was great enough that she would have turned into a tree. Probably a willow. I was on my way out to intervene when i realized she was safe, so i returned inside.

He helped her into the arena and then back to your apartment. He helped her into bed with you (she fell asleep on you immediately). He then stared at you in the dark for 2 minutes before returning to the woods and unblocking you on Tumblr.

As for the Showrunner's mental state currently, she isn't mad at you, she needs support. Own up to not telling the truth and let her know why you didn't. Don't leave her alone, at least for a while (tree). Turn on some show and stay close to her. Some time today she will need to return to the woods to give the coat back to the Master.

Thank you for reaching out to me. I'm here for things like this. Let me know if you have any further questions.

#### Showie has… friends? Since When? [Lex FOMBrunner]

That wail had felt good. And bad. She was crisising again. She knew that. Maybe this would make it better. She figured they might watch a movie or maybe go for a walk. Whatever the case, she was confident at least she wouldn’t be steamrolled like she’d been before. May or may not have reminded her of when she’d be ‘included’ in decisions in the past.

But no matter! She’d pulled in Lex and they were going to have a good time. They would. Or at least an okay time. Because Lex wouldn’t flirt with Braig, he’d promised. And also Showie had like 3 total friends and one of them was comatose so it would be good to see someone.

She and Braig were heading down the staircase to the arena. She hadn’t said a word since Braig had said “Aphrodite”. She’d wailed, yeah, but. That was it.

Braig hadn't said anything, either. He looked at her a lot, out of the corner of his eye, when he thought she wasn't looking. But he hadn't spoken.

She wished he would. Not that she’d say anything back, but she liked his voice. And she wanted distracted. Asking that question had been a mistake. But she didn’t regret it. Despite the fact that that one word had shaken her more than the rest of the news combined.

But anyway! They were coming up to the doors that led into the arena. Maybe they would stop by the food court or something on the way back up. And that could be fun.

She pushed the doors open (both of them, double doors, to be dramatic) and they banged into the walls on either side. The spotlight that she was pretty sure Amy controlled did a little spin around the room before landing on someone in the arena, peering down into the spike pit. Lex.

He floated about a foot over the ground. Those wings of his had to be for show or something; they didn't move. The overly tall boots had to be. The soles of them looked like they'd never touched the ground before.

She smiled slightly. Hopefully she’d be able to manage to say something to maybe break the crushing silence.

Okay, here we go. Okay, say something now. Okay Showie, now.

Fuck.

Lex spun around, as if he sensed them. His face lit up. Literally. She was pretty sure his eyes were glowing. Cool.

"Showie!!" He squealed, jetting over to them. "Ah, it's so good to finally meet you in person!"

That did it. She broke into a grin, “Hi!!!”

"OUUUUUUUGH! So, movie night, huh?" He clasped her hand between his. "This is gonna be fun!"

She sure hoped so!! “Y-yeah!” She said, suddenly realizing she was platonically touch starved, “Uh- do you wanna, like, stop by the food court first, or?”

"Ooh, mortal food! I'm down!" He grinned, finally touching down to the ground. On his feet, he probably would've stood just a couple inches taller than her, but with those boots, ended up rivaling – no, surpassing – Braig in height.

She was blanking. Kind of on everything. She sort of grabbed his hand and looked up at him, suddenly feeling short.

"Oh, and hi, Xiggy!" Lex continued, giving Xigbar a little wiggly fingered wave. "That's not flirting, by the way- I'm just like this."

"... Don't call me that."

"Okay, fine."

That felt like flirting, and it kind of threw her off her rhythm. But she could trust. And also Braig shut Lex the fuck down so that was fun. :).

She felt seriously off kilter and she didn’t know why. Huh. Buffering.

"Seriously, don't worry," Lex murmured to her, "I got my sights set a little higher, if you know what I mean."

She nodded, smiling sort of instinctively. Her brain felt like cottonballs what the fuck was happening??? She was fine. She was fine. She had the Trauma Pass to be weird today. Everyone would brush it off. Hopefully.

"Ah, well!" He smiled brightly. Oh, fangs. "Let's get goin', huh?" He took one step. Two steps. Then immediately stumbled and fell. He started floating before he hit the ground, but still looked embarrassed. "... This is why I don't walk. Do you know how hard it is to stay on your feet in heels this tall?"

"Pretty easy for me, actually." Braig paused. "... I didn't mean to say that out loud."

Showie may have gone gray. Luckily the hood was up in case they ran into any stray kins. She also may have let out a little giggle. Perhaps.

"Okay, now THAT'S something I gotta see. Not even in a hornybrain way. That just sounds great. Fifty-four year old guy just straight up killing it in eight inch heels? Get outta here."

Maybe this swamp sauce was double acting. Like baking powder. Once with a liquid once with a heat. She liked baking powder. She remembered when it got invented, she was in the United States at the time. She liked baking powder.

"Uh… Doll? You okay?" Braig asked, pointedly not responding to Lex.

She looked at him, her expression probably bewildered. Probably you could see her one active braincell bouncing around in there. Smacking into the baking powder.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout?" Huh. Lex looked like a cat.

“Baking Powder,” she said without thinking. Then blushed. Like, hard.

"That's, uhhhh-" Lex pursed his lips. "That's what makes the cakes go all… foomf. Right?"

She nodded, ashamed. What the fuck was happening? They needed to just do movie night so she could turn her brain off. “Um. Food and then we can watch. Um.” She was going to say Tangled, but they already watched Tangled. She looked between Braig and Lex for a suggestion.

"PLEASE can we watch Ratatouille? Please please please?"

She blinked, “We say yes to please in this bracket.”

"YIPPEE!" Lex kicked out one leg. His boot made a clonking sound against a rock on the ground. Did one of the white boys smuggle it in? The arena was supposed to be level ground. Was one of them missing their rock? That would have to be rectified.

Ough. Fuck. Movie night time. “Okay let’s go before I get confused again!” She said with an instinctive smile. Squeezed Braig’s hand. “The food court is this way, probably, I think.” She set off in the direction the food court should be, hopefully.

It, thankfully, didn’t take them long before they got to the food court (she was right! Yay!) and then back up to the apartment. They were talking about, uh, something. She was saying things that she hoped made sense.

As they approached the couch she suddenly froze.

"... You okay? Why'd you stop?" Braig asked. He looked concerned.

She turned around to face him, then grabbed his face, “Look at me and tell the truth no matter what promise?” the words tumbled out.

"Yeah. Promise. No more lies, ever." His voice sounded serious, at least.

“Look at my eyes?”

"I promise," he repeated, this time making full eye contact.

“Am- Do i look like I’m turning into a tree? In my eyes there is no bark or leaves?” She didn’t think that made sense.

He blinked.

"No. No tree bits of any kind."

She looked at Lex for a second opinion.

"You're good, bestie!"

They both looked concerned for her. Uh oh. Vibekiller. “Fun okay lets watch movies.”

She pulled Braig onto one side of the couch, sat in the middle, and then patted the space on her other side for Lex to sit down.

Lex… Well, it was less like he sat and more like he flopped. Dropped out of the air like a stone. He bounced a full five inches off the couch before settling in. What is this guy made of???

She had no room to speak. She handed Lex the remote because she figured it would take her way longer to find it, and Lex turned on Ratatouille.

#### Keep Your Friends Close Chapter 20

It'd been a long fuckin' while since Xigbar had taught someone how to use a keyblade, but… He could still do it. Probably. Hopefully.

He sat up on the bed and looked at her over his shoulder.

"Hey, you change into something you can move in. I'll meet you in the arena, okay?"

She gave him a sort of look .

"Okay- I could just stand in the hallway, or something- Just want to give you some privacy-"

She looked away, looking haunted . She didn’t respond, instead grabbing some clothes from her closet and then walking into the bathroom. She shut the door.

Oh, yeah. That was an option, too.

Xigbar looked at the ground and pulled his hair back. He was starting to get into the habit of leaving it loose half the time (but then again he didn't really have a choice. Hair tie thief girlfriend, 'n all.). He couldn't focus with it down. Not as much as he would like. It was already hard enough to see without having hair falling over his eye every five seconds.

He held out his hand. It took a moment, but… Yeah, he could still summon his old keyblade. The one from before he was given No Name. It was weird he didn't use it much. He did always really like it.

… Huh. Have the teeth always looked this similar to his arrowgun bolts? He knew the thing was always very purple, but… Weird. Maybe it had changed since the last time he used it. Fuck knows he had. Shit, last time he used it… was he even a man yet? It had been so long.

After a moment, the clinking noises in the bathroom paused, then changed to a duller sound. So she had changed shoes. A little while later, the door opened. She was wearing a light pink tank top and gray leggings. Her shoes were a pair he hadn’t seen before- black heels that looked about as practical as her shoes could get. Her hair was mostly tied back and her eyes were purple.

… Do not comment on her being pretty. Don't do it.

"New shoes?"

Finally. He actually managed to not fuck a sentence up.

She looked down at them, twisting her foot around like she didn’t know either. She shrugged, then put her foot back on the ground and looked at him, then at his keyblade.

She froze.

"I, uh-" He quickly dismissed it. Nope. Not fucking around OR finding out right now. "Just making sure I can still summon it."

She stared at the hand he’d been holding it in. “Bring it back.” her voice was flat.

Okay. Terrifying. Great. Not like that was the first thing she’d said all day or anything.

He brought it back.

She walked over to him and kind of tugged on it. He let her take it.

“I-” She shook her head, looking mystified, “Where did you get this one?”

"'S the one I've always had. The original. Lot more simple than the others had, though- I'll admit that. They had really cool looking ones."

She chuckled slightly, turning it over in her hands and paying particular attention to the handguard.

"What?"

She looked up at him with half a grin. First smile he’d seen all day, too. That had to be a good sign, right?

“I-” She turned her attention back to the keyblade, trying to hold back her amusement. “Do I-” she paused, biting back a smile. She didn’t continue.

"Do you what?" He raised an eyebrow, letting a half grin tug at his lips. "Unfortunately, I'm not exactly a mind reader, doll."

She laughed slightly, “I- I’m not gonna say it. It’s not my business,” she handed it back to him and kind of patted his hand, “Let’s get down to the arena.”

"Okay?" Yeah, that was confusing. But at least she looked like she was in a slightly better mood. He dismissed the keyblade and got up to get the door. She got it for him a while back, might as well return the favor. Maybe make a joke about her saving her strength for training. You know how it is.

She seemed to find the mere idea of him opening a door funny. She covered her mouth with one hand. He got a sense it was the same joke she was holding back about the keyblade.

"Alright- Spill- What's so funny?"

She hesitated slightly, then motioned for him to bring the keyblade back.

Okay. He brought it back again.

There is one good thing to all this summoning and dismissing- It was getting a lot easier to do so.

She grabbed the hand holding the keyblade and adjusted the way he was holding it so he had to look at it.

“O-okay, so,” She said, holding back laughter, “I- I’m not-” she closed her eyes for a second, “Look at the handguard. yeah?”

"Yeah, it's-" It was the same it always was. Like a weird little inverted U. "What about it?"

“Well,” she said, trying to keep a straight face. She was still holding onto his hand. “I- I’m not saying that the symbol used to represent Janus, but it’s totally the symbol used to represent Janus.”

"This again?" He grinned fully now. "I still don't know what you're talking about, doll."

She rolled her eyes, smiling slightly, “Janus? Roman god of beginnings and endings? Gates and doors? Choices, crossroads, transitions, time. Changes. Dualities and Dichotomies, and what lies outside them?”

"Damn… calling me out for being transgender… and here I thought we were friends." He grinned at her sideways.

“Ignoring the rest of the items on that list because you’re scared that they apply?” She ran her hand along the rest of the keyblade.

Don't make a sex joke. Do not.

"Nah, I just can't make a joke out of 'em."

“That’s not what the expression on your face just said.” She tilted her head at him, putting her hands in the pocket of her leggings.

"Ahh- Unrelated. Come on, keyblade's not gonna summon itself. I don't have that one." He gestured with his head to the door.

She furrowed her brow a  little, but stepped aside (and slipped on her cloak) and waited for him to go through first.

Okay, fine. He'll go first.

"So, what I'm thinking is we're gonna have you try to summon your own first, but if it doesn't work then I'll give you Starlight. What do you think?"

She followed him out the door, “How do you even do that? Is it like learning to move a muscle you’ve never used before?” She stared at her hand, trying to move her left pinkie without also moving the ring finger. “I remember when I first had to learn how to hold my middle finger up on its own. That didn’t used to be a gesture, and when it developed I had to learn it,” She flipped off the ground. Then did the vulcan salute from star trek. “This, too.”

"Sort of. There's a thing called a Bequeathing – basically we both hold the keyblade and I say some shit – then you should be able to feel it, as long as your heart is strong enough. I know yours is; I've felt it. Don't worry." He paused. "After that, it'll come to you eventually."

He saw her go gray under her hood. She was quiet for a few seconds. Then she said, “...Hold the keyblade- the keyblade I haven’t summoned yet, or some other keyblade?”

"Mine. I summon it, we both hold the handle, then I say the shit and we're done. You should be able to summon your own then."

She went grayer, then nodded. “We should go do that.”

"Alright. To the arena, then." He decided not to comment on the blush. It would make things awkward, probably. He offered one hand to her, a silent invitation for teleporting.

Grayer, she accepted it. He warped them into the arena.

It was pitch black.

"Shit- Was not expecting it to be this dark in here-"

“Amy will fix that. Give her a few seconds to get to the controls." She was still holding his hand.

It was nice.

A few seconds later, there was a loud clack as the overhead lights turned on, illuminating the field. Xigbar hissed and covered his eye. He picked the WRONG time to be looking up. Those lights were bright.

He looked around the arena and smirked.

"This place brings back memories, huh? Seems like only yesterday I was just not fuckin' dyin'." He kept his tone light and jokey.

When Showie didn’t laugh, he looked over at her. She was staring at the ground. He frowned. "Y'know I'm really okay with all that back then, right? It's funny to me now."

She squeezed his hand slightly, then looked up. She cast a look around the arena, then said, “Who do you think Amy is zoomed in on right now?”

"What do you mean?"

She tilted her head, “You know. She zooms in, sees things from people’s points of view? You know that ask she sent you? About what happened while my back was turned during BFD? She must’ve been zoomed in on me, then, so she couldn’t see what you were doing.”

"So she was like… in your head, or something?"

“Eh.” She looked around, “She’s just watching. It’s not like she was physically there. Some of her recording happens after the fact, too. Pretty sure she can see potential futures, even.”

"So… She's like some kind of crazy ass mind reader/visionary kind of person?"

“I wouldn’t say crazy. She’s nice.” Showie paused. Waited. Waited. “Huh. Must be zoomed in on you right now. Amy, can you lock the doors for the kins? And close the windows.”

Zoomed in on him, huh? … He wasn't too sure if he liked the sound of that.

He heard a click as the doors locked and the metal blinds went down, closing the arena off.

“Yeah, see?” She said, “Soon as you heard it. Anyway, not too important.” She waved it off.

"... I think I'm gonna pretend I didn't learn that." Xigbar pressed his lips together for a moment, then shook his head and summoned his keyblade. He spun it around in his hand so it was pointing at the ground, then looked at Showie. "Put your hand over mine."

She hesitated, going a bit gray. Then nodded, and put her hand where he’d indicated.

Xigbar cleared his throat. Hopefully he remembered all the words to this whole spiel. It had been a while.

"In your hand, take this key," he recited, "So long as you have the makings, then through this simple act of taking...its wielder you shall one day be. And you will find me, friend—no ocean will contain you then. No more borders around, or below, or above, so long as you champion the ones you love."

It always felt too formal for his liking.

"Alright… That's it. Can you feel anything? Little stirring in your heart or something?"

She went gray again, nodding. Then nodded again. “Mmhmm. Yeah.”

"Good." He smiled, a genuine smile, not a grin or a smirk or anything. "Alright, go ahead. Try and summon your own."

“H-how?”

"Just hold your hand out and call for it with your heart. If you're ready, it'll respond."

She reluctantly let go of his keyblade and then opened her hand, shaking a little. “W-what if I can’t?”

"It's okay. It'll come to you eventually. We have all the time in the world."

She nodded, shifting the way she was standing slightly. Then she closed her eyes, head tilted down. She took a deep breath, closed her hand, and then opened it again with force.

A few moments passed.

In a flash of pale pink light, a keyblade appeared in her hand. It was intricate, full of swirls and angles and… spikes? Huh. Interesting. The stem of it was… Was it black with a white stripe or white with a black stripe? No matter. Same shit in different fonts.

The base of it, just before the hand guard, had some kind of hot pink orb. It had two black stripes with white rivets, and a line of black thorns in between them. Dangerous.

His had a similar kind of orb thing.

A black border went around the teeth of the keyblade. The teeth themself started out white where they connected to the stem, but quickly faded to the same hot pink as the orb and part of the hand guard. A diamond and pearl keychain dangled from a hoop at the end of the hand guard.

Well. If Xigbar was smiling before, he was absolutely fuckin' BEAMING now. He scooped Showie up, whooping.

" YOU FUCKIN' DID IT!"

She let out a startled shriek and grabbed onto him, “I did?!”

"Look at your hand!!" He was so goddamn proud . People don't normally get it first try like that.

“No?” She beamed at him, then looked at her hand, at her keyblade- She looked at it for a few seconds, eyes wide. She went gray , but then laughed, “I did it!!” She kicked her feet slightly.

"I am so FUCKING proud of you!! Do you know how rare it is to summon one that fast?"

She smiled, her eyes kind of misty, “I- I- cool!!” She stared at it, “Uh- um- can- does- How do I put it away??”

"Oh- Right- It's basically the same as summoning it, but in reverse. It's like… Telling it to go away."

It vanished in a flash. “Okay!!”

He realized he was still holding her. Oops.

But… she hasn't said anything sooooo… it was probably still fine to keep holding her.

"I know I've said this before, but- you are so fucking cool."

She smiled, wrapping the arm that used to be holding the keyblade around his shoulder, hugging him and resting her head on his chest in his blind spot.

Holy fucking shit he was so proud. It's been covered, but it bears repeating. He could feel his heart – the physical one – beating out of his chest. In the back of his mind, Xigbar wondered if she could feel it too. "Like… It normally takes at the very least a few hours, but you …" He finally paused long enough to take a breath. "It suits you. Your keyblade, I mean- I mean it's supposed to, but- Yeah. It. Um. It's nice."

He heard her take a shaky breath, and she laughed slightly, “A-are they, like, static, or does your emotional state the first time you summon it, like, affect it? The design?”

"They might change a little over time, but for the most part, they're static. It would only really change much if you changed fundamentally as a person."

She laughed, and he felt her turn her head more into his chest. "Hey," he started, "Summon it again? I wanna show you something."

She hugged him tighter, but did not summon it again.

"Come on, please? It's good."

She let out another little laugh.

"Pleaaaaaaaaaaaase?" If he knew she could see his face, he would've jokingly batted his eyelashes at her all cute. Not that he can really do cute.

He felt her adjust her arm and (still hugging him) summoned it behind his back. Okay, that was closer .

"Doll, I can't exactly show you something behind my back- It's gotta do with mine, too, if that helps-"

She let out a nervous titter and sort of wriggled out of his arms. She held her keyblade out in front of her, and said in a way he thought was supposed to be joking, “Wish Amy was zoomed in on me right now.” she paused, “You know, like, recorded for posterity.”

"Well… I guess it's more private this way?" He shrugged, then summoned his own keyblade. "Look here." He tapped the orb thing by her hand guard, then the one by his. "We match… Kinda."

She smiled, and he noticed she had a tear going down her cheek, “Yeah, look at that.” her voice was happy, though.

It was still concerning.

"Are you okay? We can go back upstairs if you want."

“Just a little- uh- overwhelmed,” She lied blatantly, “I’m good, though. Happy!” She said, more honestly.

"If you're sure." He grinned and took a few steps back. "Then, if you're ready, we can get to the fun part. Attack me ."

“I-” She stared at her keyblade. “I’ll suck at it.”

"That's okay. I just want to gauge your abilities a bit. See where you're at, so I know what to show you."

“I’ll tell you where I’m at,” She said, turning to face him and shrugging off her cloak, kicking it a few feet away, “The only weapon I’ve ever used is a discarded antler, and I was defeated in three seconds. This was, what, 600 years ago?”

"Still." Xigbar cracked his neck. It was a habit he'd picked up a long while ago. It helped him focus on the fight. "A keyblade isn't a normal weapon. It's an extension of your very being. Don't worry about hurting me. I'm doing pure defense here."

She nodded, looking at him. She moved slightly, adjusting her stance. She hesitated, looking like she was psyching herself up. “Y-y-” She looked up at the roof of the arena. Shook her head. Looked back at him, psyching herself up. Lost her nerve again.

"It's okay. You can do this. I'm not going to be attacking back, just blocking."

She nodded, “I- I know. I’m just. Uh. Feeling a bit mythological today I guess.”

"What do you mean by that?" He tilted his head.

“You ever hear the story of Pallas Athena? Why she’s called that sometimes?” She was calming down.

"You and I both know I haven't," he replied, a smile quirking the corners of his lips.

“Well, Athena, a goddess- battle strategy, wisdom. A maiden goddess, like Artemis, only she’ll create kids from her mind sometimes for funsies or something. She sprung out of Zeus’s head fully formed, and Zeus was like, ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’ and sent her to, let’s call it a summer camp. It’s not, but let’s call it that.”

"That's usually what parents do when they don't know what to do with their kids. Mine gave me an eyeball."

She laughed slightly, “Uh- so Athena meets this girl named Pallas. They’re best friends ever in the always. And they’d train and spar together. It was great.”

"Hell yeah. Girl power."

She smiled, “Yeah. It was.” The smile faded, “Until one day, Zeus.” She said like it was a complete sentence.

"Ugh. Zeus. "

“Careful with that tone, Bucket Boy,” She said playfully, “He could be paying attention.”

"Pbbt." He stuck out his tongue. "Can't get knocked up if I don't have the bits."

“That’s not the only thing he does. Anyway. One day there’s a festival, and Pallas and Athena, they’re participating in a friendly match. Winner is the first person to disarm the other. At the end they go out for ice cream or whatever. You get it. Now, Athena starts out winning, but they’re closely matched. Then Pallas gets the upper hand. Zeus is in the crowd watching.”

"And let me guess- He doesn't understand the phrase 'stay in your lane'?"

“Yeah, he’s not about to let Athena lose this friendly, low stakes, no consequences fight. He pulls out his shield, Aegis. Pallas is mesmerized. Athena is expecting Pallas to dodge her strike. She doesn’t. Pallas was the better fighter, but because of godly intervention, Athena killed her on accident. She was heartbroken, and she took the name Pallas Athena in her grief.” She looked at the roof of the arena.

"That's fucked up." He pursed his lips. "You know… That kind of thing isn't gonna happen here, right? Keyblades don't kill unless there's intent."

“Oh,” She visibly relaxed, “And that’s true?”

"Yeah. It's connected directly to your heart, so you can't accidentally kill someone like with a normal weapon." He left out the part that instead of death, his heart would just be ripped from his body again. That would make things worse.

She nodded, relaxing. Then, “Sora said Roxas was created when he stabbed himself with a keyblade, though? What would happen? You turn back into a nobody? You’d still hang out with me, right? Until it came back again?”

"Of course I would." What kind of question was that? "I wanted to be around you before it came back, no reason for that to be any different."

She nodded, “Okay. Okay.” She bounced a little, “Okay. Okay!” she was getting ready-

Xigbar closed his eye and took a breath. It's been a while since he took a defensive stance, especially with a keyblade, especially with teaching someone , but… It still came easily enough. Okay. He could do this. He opened his eye.

“Ready?” She asked.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Come at me."

She bounced a few more times, then came forward and swung. It was easy enough to block; didn't even make any sparks. He used the force to launch himself backwards a few feet.

"Again. The power of your swing comes from your hips, not your arms. It's a twist, not all out hit. In a real fight, you'd end up exhausting yourself a lot faster than you'd do damage."

She smiled at him, then let out a genuine laugh, “Hold on, hold on- Do you want me to put my cloak back on and then go outside where the white boys can see us fight and get confused?”

"Holy shit." He grinned. "That would be so fucking funny. Let's do it."

She cackled, “Okay!” She used her keyblade to pick her cloak. As she put it on, she said, “Let’s yell some shit, too. Wait wait wait- ” She laughed, “Let's make a bet. How long before Sora rushes out to help? Five minutes? Two?”

"With how far the arena is from the cabin, and with how fast that little menace can run… I'd say four minutes, tops." He grinned. "I'm wondering how long it'd take Team Lit to show up. You think they'd try to stop us?"

“Oooooh, Amy gave me the Paul Matthews death file. It’s from his POV, so I don’t know if you heard, but Percy was pissed when he thought Matthews had killed me- he was all like, ‘The Showrunner can be reasoned with! Do you know how much more dangerous this place is with Xigbar in charge? You idiot!’ or whatever. So I’m not sure about Team Lit Proper, but extended? Oh, definitely. Only, I’m sure Percy would be able to recognise it as trained, ‘f he got close enough. This is fun, though, let’s go see who cares if I die!” She giggled and bounced a little.

"Five bucks says Artemis gets invested in it one way or another. Bet this would be interesting for the little guy."

“ Ooooh , and there’s Butler out there-” She put her keyblade over her shoulder like he did with his arrowguns- “ That would be interesting. Okay, let’s make this dramatic-” She gestured with her keyblade, and shouted, “ I trusted you!”

" Wrong choice!" He yelled back. It was hard keeping a straight face, but he was nothing if not an actor.

“ I can see that now!” She shifted her stance, getting ready to attack, “ YOU let him into the force field!” She charged forward, her swing adjusted to his instructions. She connected to his keyblade with a clang , and sparks. Much better. He knew she packed a punch, but damn. That left his arms buzzing.

" Ansem made things interesting!" He pushed her back, before jumping back himself a good few feet. " Not my fault you wouldn't just go down without a fight!"

“ Is THAT why you hired Paul Matthews?”

" Matthews was a failure! He didn't deserve to work with me!"

Showie laughed, breaking her stance, “Alright! This is dramatic! We ready to take this outside?”

He grinned. "Hell yeah. This is gonna be absolutely hysterical."

Her eyes widened, and she gasped- “OH. Idea. ” She pointed to the ceiling, “You see that? It opens . You could, like, grab me and gravity us out all supervillain, then we could, like, pretend to wham! right into the ground, I can use my powers to make a bunch of dirt fly up so it looks serious- ” She looked at him, “Fun?”

"Oh my fucking god." He laughed. "I am so in love with you. Let's do it."

She grinned, “Amy-” before she even finished her sentence, the lights turned off and a massive whirring noise filled the darkened arena. Then a spotlight of sunlight appeared in the middle of the field, and it expanded and expanded as the gap in the ceiling for bigger and bigger.

“Ready, Braig?” She pulled up her hood, and her grin could only be described as wicked . It matched his perfectly; he knew he looked downright feral by now. He laced an arm around her waist (now fully confident he wouldn't get absolutely obliterated by one of her semi truck punches,) and nodded.

"Ready when you are."

She leaned in and kissed him, then said, “Let’s go.”

#### Kaymom Fic Chapter 2 [Walk in the Woods]

Kayne stood in the woods, idly gazing at the sun. The force-field distorted the rays slightly, but it was quite slight– and only something you’d notice if you spent an extensive amount of time gazing directly into the sun’s corona.

“Hey there!” A familiar voice called from behind. “Twenty paces exactly. You sure weren’t kidding.” The voice said softly as arms wrapped around Kayne’s waist. “You seem peaceful.”

Kayne smiled and turned to press his face against the Master’s. “It’s nice here. But this will be even better with you.”

This remark caused the Master to laugh. “Getting sappy with me so soon, eh? I suppose I’m just that irresistible.”

“Oh, quite.” Kayne said softly. “You’re lovely. Now, come on. I did say I had a whole walk planned!”

“You did.” The Master said with a hum, “and let me just say that I’m very eager to see what it is.” As he spoke, he nuzzled into Kayne.

Kayne smiled, reached for the Master’s hand and began to lead him onto the path he’d scouted out.

He first led the Master to his watching spot– a tree that he could climb up with the footholds he’d carved into it and see the whole of the arena– albeit, from far away.

The Master paused as they reached the area, taking a second to take the scene in. The hood over his head concealed his rapidly growing blush. The whole set up was… surprisingly sweet. In this moment of silence he took a while to try and recall the last time he was treated to something like this. He could not.

“This is, ah, where I watch stuff! It’s the whole reason why I came in here, so I could see stuff for myself. There hasn’t been that many deathmatches since I’ve gotten in, but it’s still a nice spot! It’s– I've been sort of. Living up here. And in the woods. Yeah.”

“Living up in the tree just to watch people die, eh?” The master chuckled, slinging an arm around Kayne’s shoulder and leaning against him, “such a fascinating guy you are. And your little setup up there?”

“Yes, I summoned that in– just some stuff to make it a bit more cozy. You’re– you’re invited to it, if you’d like to use it. It’s a good view.”

“You read my mind, actually.” The master smiled, pulling away and shedding the coat at last. Brilliant wings instantly took form from his back with a stretch. “Ahhh- that’s better. Now to get up there-” he turned to Kayne with a soft smirk. “Care for a lift up?”

Kayne blushed somewhat, looked the Master over, and then nodded. He could, of course, teleport around– but this was much better than that.

“Alright then-“ the Master lifted Kayne into his arms with ease before moving to the branch with a swoop of his wings. Gently setting him down he took a seat on the branch and gazed over to the arena and gave a low whistle. “You weren’t kidding about the view, were you?”

Kayne nodded and looked out. He could see the whole of the arena, with all its spike pits, and the buildings inside of it. If he squinted, he could even glimpse a glance towards the skybox.

A ways away, there was the cabin, visible only in the slightest. Much closer to Kayne’s watching spot were some tables set up for shooting practice– when those two had come to use it, the noise was actually rather unpleasant.

“Hey.” The Master gave a tug at Kayne’s sleeve, pulling him into his lap. “Sit with me.”

Kayne flushed as he sat into the Master’s lap, and looked up at him with surprise. He tensed for a second, before allowing himself to lean back into the Master’s chest. Oh, it was fluffy.

A sigh of content escaped the Master’s chest as he wrapped his arms around him once again. Nuzzling his face- properly this time- he let out a purr. “See? Isn’t this nicer?”

Kayne smiled.

“Yes, this is… really nice.” he said, leaning back even more. He gently began to stroke the feathers on the Master’s right arm.

Nodding, the Master seemed content with the answer. Half lidded eyes gazed out to the scenery. His expression was unreadable as he pulled Kayne closer to him, deep in thought.

“And this is only the first stop.” Kayne said, tracing a finger in a circle. “I’ve got something really nice at the end of this.”

The feathery wing-like ears perched atop the Master’s head perked up, eyes dilating. Interest was peaked. “You really do have an entire day planned out!”

Kayne grinned. “I like to be prepared. Especially for someone of your caliber.”

He extended a hand to the Master, and felt his energy thrum beneath his… well, it was technically skin, he supposed.

The blush on the Master’s face only grew as he took the hand. “You sure do know how to treat a guy, I’ll admit it.”

Kayne grinned as he pulled them through space and transported the two of them back down to the ground.

“Ooooo that’s what I call convenient” The Master nudged him teasingly.

Kayne smiled and began to lead the Master down the path he’d scouted out– a nice trail to walk through, complete with some lovely sights.

He led them towards a nice patch of flowers.

Crouching down, the Master admired them- wild geraniums. He smiled, plucking a couple from the ground and weaving them with his fingers. “One good thing after the other, hmmm?”

“The forcefield can be pretty nice, if you look around enough.” Kayne said earnestly.

“Maybe so but…” The master trailed off for a few seconds, main eyes trained on the flowers as his others glanced back at his companion. He took a deep breath and continued, “I can’t live in a trapped environment. That’s not what I’m built for… All the same, it could be worse. I could be here without you.” The Master turned back to him, getting to his feet and handing him the flowers. “That has to count for something.”

“Well, we’re about to take some time out.” Kayne said brightly. “Right this way, in fact.”

“‘Time out’” the Master echoed back in thought, “you mean out of the forcefield, right?”

“Yeah.” Kayne said easily, as he started walking further in. “I just need to push you through, and then you’ll be out on the other side.”

“You’re rather crafty, you know that?” The Master said, intertwining his fingers with Kayne’s. “You never fail to amaze me.”

Kayne winked. “Why, of course.”

The two of them walked further into the forest, until they reached the shimmering edge that was the forcefield. Kayne made a showman-like gesture to the Master, and then quickly pushed him through.

The Master sort of… slid through, like a object being forced through saran wrap, before he ended up on the other side. Kayne took a deep breath, brushed himself off, and then walked through.

The Master blinked and looked behind him at the forcefield, his feathers slightly puffed up from the odd sensation. He whistled, smoothing them out. “Damn-  that deal you made definitely came in handy.” Looking back before them he took a deep breath and exhaled “sure is nice to get out of there. When I tell you it was so physically uncomfortable without my abilities… well… I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, of course.” Kayne said easily. He glanced down at the path he’d made with the paper lanterns– good, it was still intact. “And I’ll let you out whenever you need it, dear. It’s cruel to cage a birdie like you.”

“Thank youuu- I’m glad you agree” The Master spread out his wings for emphasis. “There’s absolutely NO real enrichment in that enclosure. I’m bored out of my mind apart from seeing you and getting food.”

Kayne nodded, and gave the Master’s wings a tender stroke.

“Now, would you like to see what I’ve prepared?”

The Master pressed his wings into the touch with a soft purr “Always, dear.”

Kayne smiled, and slowly began his walk towards the picnic he’d set up.

“So,” he said curiously. “Tell me about yourself? I understand you’ve got a son.”

“Ah. Yeah. Xigbar, I believe is what he’s going by now.” The Master nodded, voice sounding distant. “Doesn’t seem too happy with me though. He’s certainly different since the last time we interacted.” Cocking his head he looked over to Kayne and squeezed his hand. “It’s been lifetimes of him body hopping. I got to see everything play out and yet- it’s still a bit of a shock to the system.”

“Body– hopping? Thought the kid was human.”

“More or less.” The master said with a shrug, “though the body hopping had nothing to do with it. He had to carry one of my eyes throughout time so that I would be able to witness important events through history before they came to pass. It was also a waypoint but-“ he shook his head. “No- I’m not sure if he’s fully human or not. I simply found him one day on his own. Little baby floppin’ around in the woods with no one around. Little snack for the wolves.” He chucked fondly at the memory. “No one took him in and I figured hey why not. Never tried this dad thing. Might bring me joy. It did. But the energy that I got from him never fully matched those of other humans. They were similar, sure but… I can’t say for sure.”

“Awww, how cute!” Kayne said fondly. “Well, it seems like he wants to know more about you, at least a little. So, hopefully, that’ll be enough!”

“Perhaps.” The Master murmured, “this part of history is pretty foggy and it’s difficult to see what happens next. I get that I should explain more but my whole deal is really a terrible mess to explain. I don’t even know where I’d start.”

“Well, what'd ya mean, this part of history? You from the future? Or something?”

“Nahhh. Xigbars carried my eye all throughout history so I was able to view everything that it saw from the time that I forged the keyblade that it’s on. Little handy trick I came up with-“ the Master nudged him, “wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah.” Kayne said, smiling a bit harder to mask his confusion. C’mon, you have to be cool in front of this guy. Pretend that made sense. “So, uh– so, this part of history, you haven’t gotten a good look at. You, uh– didya happen to see anything with me, already?”

“Maybe some glimpses, but that’s about it.” The Master admitted softly. “And I haven't seen much after I get reunited with Xigbar either. I assumed I would already have the eye back but at this point I’m not so sure..” the Master shook his head after a few seconds, breaking himself from his thoughts. “But what about these?” He gestured to the lanterns with a grand motion, “these are fantastic, where did you come up with that?”

“I’ve... picked up a few tricks in my past. It’s a good way to set the mood, yeah?”

“Haha- I’ll say!” The Master said, giving Kayne another hard squeeze, “You really took a lot of care into making these! It’s so lovely and really sets the mood.”

“That’s what I’d hoped for. And I’m really glad I’ll be able to surprise you here.”

“Hey, it’s a real delight.” The Master purred, “it’s been so long since I’ve been able to have a real surprise.”

Kayne led the two of them into a clearing, and spread his arms in a flourish at the picnic he had arranged for the two of them. A blanket was laid down, a basket filled with some nice delicacies, and a ring of paper lanterns lined the tree line

“Looks like somebody’s trying to seduce me.” The master said with a cheeky smile. His catlike eyes were widened with delight. “And you know what? It’s working~”

“I do hope so.” Kayne said with a grin, taking a seat on the blanket and tucking his legs in what he hoped was a somewhat-coy manner.

The Master took the spot next to him- very next to him- almost against him and sighed with content. He leaned his head against Kayne’s and let his wings stretch out around him. Everything was so perfect.

“Did you summon all this food too?” The Master asked.

“Oh, yes.” Kayne said, opening up the basket. He brought out a case of honeyed figs and smiled, opening up the lid and offering the container to the Master.

The Master took one eagerly and set the case down before taking a bite. A delighted smile beamed across his face as he chewed, eyes closed as he savored the flavor.

Kayne grinned and popped one into his own mouth, and then gently leaned himself fully into the Master’s body. They were so close already, it was barely any distance to close, but god, he wanted to be closer.

The master laughed gently, gazing down at him. A darkened hand rested upon his hair. Wonderfully soft. Everything so intimate. Moving forward, he pressed his face into his locks.

Kayne giggled slightly at the touch, and began tracing his hand around the Master’s wings, slowly rubbing smooth circles and preening the feathers as best he could.

The Master leaned his feathers into the touch. The moment was quiet save for the ambient sounds of nature. The angel shifted closer to him- as much as he could. It was a rare moment of peace indeed.

“So,” Kayne said, “Shall we?”

“Hmmm?” The Master purred, tilting up his head up and pressing a warm kiss into his lips, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away.

Kayne returned it, kissing the Master on the neck and running his hand through the Master’s long, silky hair.

He grinned. Oh, this was going to be delightful.

#### Sora Cannot Catch A Break

BOOM!!!

Sora jolted up from his game (he was currently working through Dream Drop Distance, very excited to play as Riku,) and rushed to the window. He couldn't see anything yet, but it sounded like it was coming from the arena.

“What was that?” Magnus was sitting on the edge of the couch, and he got up and rushed over, too.

"I dunno, I can't see… We should go out there! What if someone's hurt?" Sora looked up and towards the rest of the White Boys. "Right?"

Percy got up, nodding, “It could be trouble.”

"Wait. We should do a headcount first," said Riku. "Pretty sure everyone's inside, but still."

Firestar said, “Graystripe and I were just outside, we didn’t see anyone.” His muzzle was stained with blood.

Sora decided not to comment on it. After all, he didn't see any cat food around here. It was probably some kind of critter blood. Circle of life.

"Alright." Riku nodded. "Sora, do you know where it was coming from?"

BOOM.

"Shoot- The arena!" Sora summoned his keyblade and ran out the front door without waiting for anyone. At the very least, Riku was behind him. He knew he was.

There were dirt clumps all over the ground, and in front of him, near the entrance to the arena, he saw two figures locked in a heated battle- it- That was Xigbar! And- Oh, no, Showie! But why? He thought they were friends!

He tried to pick up the pace, and as he got closer, he heard:

“How could you?!” Showie shouted, her cloak billowing behind her, “I-” CLANG (sparks!!), “I should’ve known!”

"Yeah, you should've! What were you expecting?!" Xigbar had an evil grin on his face. Not like when he killed that guy, Paul Matthews, but more… Excited. "I showed up just to fuck up your plans!"

A blow connected with Showie’s- keyblade?!- sending her flying back several feet. Her feet made gouges in the grass. Her hood was barely staying on her head.

“And then- it was you who let him into the force field, wasn’t it?!” She charged him- sparks!

"Ansem made things interesting!"

"Ansem?!" Riku gasped.

"I needed a replacement after Matthews turned out to be such a failure! I should have known you would be hard to kill!" What? But that didn't… That didn't make any sense. Sora himself had seen the rage in Xigbar's expression during the execution (no other way to name that, really). Maybe he had just misjudged where it was directed?

Showie let out a cry, and landed a blow on Xigbar’s keyblade (WHAT?) that sent him stumbling, “I THOUGHT YOU WERE DIFFERENT.”

"YOU THOUGHT WRONG!"

They were getting close now, maybe 30 seconds away- He had to help his friend!

“CLEARLY!” Something was going on with Showie. He saw a strange flicker at the tip of her keyblade, a purple spark not connected to any blow.

She had a sort of grin on her face that he could barely see under her hood.

She ran back at Xigbar, lifting her keyblade and jumping into the air, coming at him from above-

Sora leapt out between them, holding up his keyblade to block the blow-

Showie’s face flashed with alarm, and she dropped her keyblade midair and twisted, crashing into the ground in a heap. Her face landed in one of the dirt gouges, and she slid a few feet before stopping and rolling over onto her back, her stark-white face stained with mud and grass. She coughed, the air apparently having been knocked out of her.

"Ah, shit- You okay, doll?" Before Sora had a chance to react, Xigbar had dismissed his keyblade (again, what?) and went over to help her up.

What in the world was happening here???

She wheezed, looking over at Sora in mild alarm-

He bolted between them, holding his keyblade threateningly.

"Back off, Xigbar. I'm not gonna let you hurt her. This is low, even for you."

He heard Showie make a noise somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.

"Right, because I'm the big bad villain guy, right?" Xigbar shook his head. "As if, kid. I'm not gonna hurt her."

"Likely story!"

"And what the hell did you mean when you started talking about Ansem?!" Riku snapped. Oh, yeah. That was something that got said. Sora had been so focused on stopping the fight, he'd completely forgotten about it.

"What do you think, we tell 'em what's up? They look about ready to tear me apart." Xigbar leaned over to look past Sora and talk to Showie.

Seriously. What was going on.

Still unable to talk, but catching her breath, Showie gave a thumbs up but then spelled something out in finger signs. He knew what they were, but not what they said.

"What do you mean behave? I haven't even done anything!"

"... Okay, what?" He didn't dismiss his keyblade, but Sora broke his stance to stand up fully.

She spelled another thing out.

"Yeah, well, aside from the confusion they look like they wanna kill me, so."

She spelled something out again.

"What- No, I'm not mad at you. I'm just trying to figure out what to do here-" He shook his head. "Might as well tell them now, right? The jig is basically up."

She gasped for breath, “I- already- said- you- could-” She moved her arms above her head, breathing deeply. She looked at Sora, almost said something, and then coughed, turning on her side.

"... Right. Okay. Yeah, all of you can calm down. It wasn't a real fight, we were just havin' a little fun with it. Just training."

"But you said-" Riku started.

"Dude. Ansem's dead. Besides," Xigbar scoffed, "I think you of all people would've been able to feel his presence if he was actually here."

Okay. Yeah, okay. This made sense. Sora had seen the way they were with each other back when he and Riku had gone to pick them up from that other tournament. Of course they weren't trying to kill each other just a few days later.

Now he felt silly.

Showie must’ve seen it on his face, because she said, “We were- playing up- on purpose-” She paused, breathing, “Not silly- rational-” She looked at the sky, “Looked bad- on purpose-”

"..." Sora finally dismissed his keyblade. His face felt hot. "I guess… but why?"

"Just having a little fun, kiddo. Fuckin' around and finding out."

“Keyblade training- just summoned- mine and- got silly- with it.” She summoned it back to her from where it was laying on the ground. It was pink and ornate, with a stripe going all around the stem that looked like Xigbar’s hair. There were spikes on it, too. She wiggled it slightly, showing him.

"You have a keyblade now?" Yet again, What? "I- I have so many questions."

"Yeah, I do, too," Riku said, stepping forward and crossing his arms. "I thought I was the only master around here."

"Yeah, guess again, kiddo."

Showie sat up, supporting herself with her arms. Her hood was down, but Xigbar reached over with his keyblade and flicked it back onto her head, then gently bonked her on the shoulder with it. “There’s at least two i think,” She said, then looked at Riku, “You’re a master? That’s so cool.”

"It's, uh, kinda recent-" He looked embarrassed for a second (cute!!), then regained his composure. "But what do you mean there's more?"

That's what Sora wanted to know, too.

"Well for one, there's me, then ther-"

"WHAT?" Sora and Riku shouted at the same time. Showie laughed quietly.

"What do you mean you're a master?! Last time I checked, you didn't even have a keyblade!"

"Yeah, well. There was a lot going on back then." Xigbar waved his hand dismissively. "Newsflash, Kiddo. I've been a master this entire time. And there's not just me, either. There's also my old teacher, who's… I dunno, somewhere around here. I still need to go talk to him."

“Now there’s someone who snuck into the force field,” Showie said, “But Xigbar didn’t have anything to do with that.” She looked at Xigbar with a silent ‘RIGHT?’

"Yeah, that had nothing to do with me. No idea how he got here, but… He's mostly behaving, so it could be worse."

She nodded, staring at her keyblade. Then she turned a little… gray? And dismissed it.

"I…" Sora frowned, the confusion fading and annoyance setting in. "What were you two thinking? You freaked everyone out!"

Xigbar looked like he wanted to say something, but just covered his mouth and looked away.

Showie said, “Got a little silly with it, admittedly. Didn’t want to scare anyone. Sorry,” She smiled apologetically. She had a massive green smear on her face- the grass stain.

"Just- Please don't pull something like that again." Sora pleaded. He was pretty sure this whole event knocked a couple years off his lifespan. Maybe gave him a gray hair. Who knows. It was a lot of stress and confusion all at once.

Not that most of his life lately wasn't stress and confusion, but still.

"I thought it was funny."

"No one asked you, Xigbar." Riku muttered.

Showie threw her head back and cackled, “Get his ass.”

"Who's side are you on?!" Xigbar gasped in mock hurt, putting a hand over his chest. "I thought we were friends!"

“You thought wrong!” She joked, pretending to get up before flopping back on the grass.

"See, this is why you're getting pretend assassinated."

"So… Are you two good? Not gonna kill each other?" Riku asked, looking very annoyed. Sora hadn't seen that look in a while, even longer since it wasn't directed at him (good times haha).

“Ah, no, that’s ancient-” she laughed, “ancient history.” She looked like she was holding back a joke.

"Okay." He shook his head. "Then I'm going back to the cabin."

"I'll meet you there in a minute, okay?" Sora smiled at him. After a beat, Riku nodded and returned it, albeit a lot softer.

He really, really loved that guy.

Sora turned back to Showie and Xigbar. "So, what exactly made you two think that was a good idea?"

Showie looked at him with something between fondness and amusement. “Didn’t really think before doing it. Got a keyblade and immediately got possessed by the spirit of mischief.” She tilted her head, smiling at him, “It won’t happen again.”

"I just thought it was funny. And it absolutely was." The comment made Sora shoot him a look. "What?"

"Okay- If it happens again, uh…" He paused. "I'll, uh- make sure no one comes out to see all your drama!" Yeah, that was a good threat!

Showie smiled at him warmly. “Yes, sir,” she said, her voice joking.

"Alright. Good." Sora crossed his arms. Something about all this made Xigbar look like he was about to lose it. "I'm. I'm gonna go catch up to Riku. Be good."

Showie grinned at him.

"Yeah, sure, little man." What is with all the nicknames??? Wait. Has Xigbar EVER called him by his actual name??? Does he even know his name??? He has to, right???

“Alright, Sora. Take care,” Showie said warmly.

"Yeah… You too."

"That means stop trying to eat the floor," Xigbar joked.

“MEAN TO ME!” She shouted. “I could be broken into little pieces and this is what you say? Oh, packing my little rucksack and running off with Stanley, oh woe.”

"Oh, please. As if you could run off with a guy in a coma."

“MEAN TO STANLEY!”

Sora turned and started walking, leaving them to their bickering. It was getting hard to hide his smile.

As he walked away, he heard Showie say, “I’ll run off with the Narrator then. Or maybe, hmm, who’s cringest? Xaldin? I’ll fuck Xaldin.”

Ew.

"Listen, just because he's hung doesn't mean he's worth it."

EW.

Showie cackled, and he heard her fall back on the ground, “Ew!!”

Running away. Running away immediately. He did not need to think about Xigbar hooking up with anyone, much less Xaldin (especially since now that he was Dilan, he was actually a pretty nice guy).

He heard Showie laugh before her voice faded as he got out of earshot.

Honestly speaking, Sora probably would've broke out in a run regardless. Riku was waiting for him, and so was his game.

Things were quiet and nice for him, for once.

#### Kaymom Fic Chapter 3 [Darkness]

It was spreading.

It was spreading and he knew it all too well.

The Master didn’t even have to pull aside any of his garments to check. It was that old familiar burn of infection that he knew all too well. One that caused him to curl over on himself as he attempted to stabilize the pain, ragged deep breaths heaved to and from his chest.

So, he had really been pushed to this point. And from something so trivial too. Yes his week had been terrible and yet…

And yet  he didn’t expect to become so ill from it.

Leaning against the trunk of the tree, he closed his eyes tight. He had to focus on something else- anything other than this.

“Hey!” Kayne called down, from up above. He jumped down, landing on bones that really should have broken from that height, but didn’t outwardly seem to be affected in the slightest. He looked at the Master nervously and kneeled down. “Maestro, can I– you said I could look at your… uh… infection? Whatever it is that’s on ya. I– should I take your cloak off?”

Straightening up to the best of his ability the Master shrugged. “Go ahead if you want to. But really, it’s no big deal.” A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips- an ill attempt at seeming unbothered. “It’s just a minor inconvenience is all. Nothing to worry about too much.”

“Stop lying.” Kayne muttered, and reached for the zipper on the Master’s cloak. He pulled it down and smiled as much as he could– smirky, but still strained. “I’ve already seen your body. Think of this as uh, me, uhm. Looking again. Yeah. Cause you’re covered in inky darkness. So! Not something we should panic about, but certainly not nothing.”

“I mean- I didn’t say it was ‘nothing.’” The Master’s voice was soft as he watched his partner remove the coat. “I simply said nothing to- urgh-“ almost as if on cue, another hot burning sensation shot through the length of his torso down to his abdomen. It was with that that he was hunched over once more, arms folded over himself and fingers digging into his arms. Fuck.

“I just…” he whimpered out in his best cheeky voice, “I just said that it was nothing to worry about.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” Kayne said with enthusiasm, tossing the coat off to the side and looking over at the Master’s body. He grimaced in sympathy and sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Yeah, this is worse. Can I– can I touch it? Or that’ll kill me. Or hurt you?”

The Master shook his head. “No, it should be just fine to touch. The eyes aren’t even sensitive… it’s just the new infection itself…” he sighed. “At worst, it’ll just sting for me, but that’s really it. Nothing compared to the pain of the infection itself.”

“Well, tell me if it hurts too much, alright?” Kayne said firmly. He then reached out, and with gentle fingers, touched at the edge of the Master’s shirt. He lifted it up, and hissed at the spreading darkness beneath.

“Fuck, this is bad.” he muttered. “Can I– is it something you can heal? Or like– is there a remedy? Some medicine, maybe?”

“Maybe. Dunno. Haven’t found one yet.” The Master admitted, keeping his gaze away from the infection, instead keeping it trained on his partner. “I’ve done a lot of looking in my time but I haven't found anything yet… who knows though. Maybe there’s still something out there that I’m overlooking.”

“Right, no known cure.” Kayne muttered. “Okay, pain. You’re in pain right now! Would, uh, some painkillers work on you? Maybe some vodka?”

Vodka- now the master couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. “Oh that’s right. You’re still from a time when vodka and cocaine were used for every little itty bitty thing.” He giggled before shaking his head. “But no- I’m not sure how much that would help. It’s more eldritch in nature after all.”

“Well, uh– I could try using my stuff on it?” Kayne said tensely. “Just– just to relieve pain. I dunno how well it’ll work, in here, but… I mean, if you’re up to it, we could also try going outside?”

“Stuff?” The Master cocked his head, trying his best to conceal a smile- which was considerably well given the help from the pain. “That’s not very descriptive, love but you have me intrigued. As for a walk well…” he shook his head. “Give me a few minutes for burning to calm down a bit. I’m not really feeling up to moving right now- giving the eyes bursting through my skin.”

“My stuff. The, uh– y’know, like conjuring. Magic, I guess? Whatever, it’s not actually magic, y’know, cause it’s real, but– here, lemme give it a shot.”

He reached his fingers down and touched them to the edge of the darkness, and then the Master felt a warm sort of… energy start to flow underneath his skin and in his core.

It was… a surprisingly comforting feeling. Was almost like feeling a beam of sunlight wash over him and dissolve away the pain. Closing his eyes, the Master leaned into it. “That feels nice.”

“Good.” Kayne murmured, smiling a bit more genuinely. “It’s– uh, I can’t make the stuff recede, but at least I can make it stop hurting, yeah?”

He reached his other hand onto the Master’s right shoulder and pressed more energy into the skin, sighing as he stared into the Master’s eyes. The– the ones in the spot where eyes go.

The Master nodded in agreement, opening his eyes and gazing softly back at him. He was melting into the warmth now, every bit of his being silently thanking Kayne for this beautiful relief.

Without thinking, the Master reached out to Kayne, fingers laced into the dark fabric of his suit jacket and pulled him closer. Was it a bit desperate of him? Sure. But hell if he didn’t need this- he needed Kayne close to him.

Kayne looked a bit surprised, and then his face lit up in a grin. He leaned into the Master with his whole body, tightly gripping him, and kissed him on his neck.

A small purr rumbled from the Master in response. His wings lovingly curled around the two of them, providing them with more privacy- appropriate for this moment of emotional intimacy and physical vulnerability.

Nuzzling into him, the Master gave another sigh. The pain had fizzled out for the time being thanks to Kayne. Emotionally, however, it was a different story. Moments passed as the two stayed there in each other’s arms drenched in silence before the Master broke it at last. “I didn’t expect it to hurt that much.”

“It’s okay, love.” Kayne said softly. “It’s alright. I’m here. You’re alright now.”

He ran a hand through the Master’s hair, stroking at it softly as he hugged his lover closer.

“I mean… I mean emotionally-“ the Master choked slightly. “I don’t understand. Sure this week has been rough, but- ha- but come on.” He felt pathetic. Countless years alive in various realities with their fair share of bad days and yet this was the straw that broke the camel’s back enough to cause the chronic illness to spread. Ugh. Why did everything seem so much more fragile here?

“You’re alright now.” Kayne whispered, his nose pressing into the Master’s neck. “You’re alright now, it’s gonna be okay, c’mon. You can cry, love. You can be upset, dear, that’s good, you need to feel things.”

“Cry…” the Master repeated after him softly. When… when was the last time he had done that? Straining his memory, he couldn’t recall. He faintly remembered the feel of warmth of tears but he couldn’t place it on a point on his timeline. It wasn’t until he felt a similar warmth on his cheeks until he was called from his attempt at recollection. One tear fell from his chin. And then another. “I can cry…”

“Yeah.” Kayne murmured, nuzzling into the Master’s chin. “Yeah, that’s good. You’re doing good.”

Teeth chattering and inhaling sharply the Master felt the dam of emotions finally break from his chest. The crushing pain of years of loneliness. The estrangement from his son. The torment and harassment he faced after being stripped of his powers in this damn place. It all came rushing out in a pained sob that ached in the center of his ribcage and caught in his throat. It was loud. Unyielding. Mournful. Shit. This was so much at once.

Kayne hugged him tightly. “I’m here, Maestro. I’m here. I– I love you, dear, I’m here for you. You’re gonna be alright.”

It felt almost impossible to believe. Almost. If it weren’t for Kayne, the Master was sure he wouldn’t have been able to. And yet, within the midst of all suffering, here he was, with this beautiful entity wrapped around him, comforting him and regarding him as if he were the most precious thing to have ever existed. Fuck as if he weren’t crying enough.

“It’s okay, let it out, dear. This’ll help. Come on. You need this, love, or else you’ll start to really lose it. You’re gonna be okay, this is good. You’re lovely, you know that? You’re so lovely.”

“H-hah… lovely sure is a word to describe it.” The Master joked through his tears.

“I mean it, y’know. You are. You’re good. Like this. Like when I met you. Like when we went on our walk. Every moment.”

“You’re so sweet… for someone who calls himself malevolent by nature you really know how to take care of an old sick angel like me.”

Kayne giggled. “Oh, dearie, I’m not really all that malevolent. That’s half a joke, you know, very little of what I say is all that… serious. I will admit, this… isn’t typically my strong suit. But I think I can at least help. Especially if I’m helping you.”

“Well, I’d say you’re pretty good at it.” The Master's voice had steadied out enough not to be choking on his tears every few words. “I mean.. look at me. I’m no longer in pain thanks to you, my love.”

“But are you well?” Kayne said tenderly. “I know you are better, but I want you to be good as well. You deserve that, Maestro.”

Giving Kayne a sad smile, the Master gently took Kayne’s chin under his finger and lifted it, looking into his eyes. “Give it time, my love.” He said gently, “I’ll be alright soon. I promise you that. And it’s because of you.”

“Then I’ll be by your side.” Kayne said, reaching in to kiss the Master on his nose. “My love.”

A soft blush formed on the Master’s cheeks as he gave a small laugh. “Alright then! Well I’d be more than happy to have you along with me.”

Kayne grinned, pushed himself closer, and ended up nestling himself well within the Master’s lap. Purring, the Master brought his wings tighter around them, enveloping them both in a pearlescent feathery blanket. Purring louder, the angel pressed tiny kisses into his cheeks, cradling his face.

“Oh, Maestro.” Kayne sighed breathily, “Oh, dear, you’re wonderful. You’re feeling better now, yes? Good enough to take a walk with me, perhaps?”

With his other hand, the Master lifted up Kayne’s hand to his mouth and with reckless abandon, he pressed a warm kiss into it. “Kayne, my love, I would be honored.”

#### Divine Madness Chapter 1

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

The Showrunner flung open the doors of the arena. The sky was bright, but storm clouds brewed in the distance. Coming closer. Closer. They were Beautiful.

She gasped for breath as she stepped out onto the grass. She kicked off her shoes and felt the grass hum beneath her feet. [OM2T]-kleis glowed purple and so did she. She gathered this was not normal. But it was Beautiful.

She was Beautiful.

Chest Heaving, she took off running. Her cloak billowed behind her as the wind whistled in her ears, getting faster, getting stronger, getting louder, getting louder, getting louder.

She ran into the woods. The trees were a blur in the corners of her eyes. She would build an orchard. She would grow it from the ground. She would need to clear space.

She skidded to a halt about a two minute run into the woods. Here.

Taking [OM2T]-kleis, she set her sights on a tree and (swinging from her hip) slammed it into the tree. Sliced through it like butter.

“Ha-” She laughed, tears coming to her eyes, “Ha!”

Vision blurring with tears, she felled tree after tree until the clearing she’d made was large enough to support an orchard. A beautiful orchard.

She stabbed her keyblade into the ground, the energy within her rushing down it like a lightning strike. All at once, the trees she’d felled blasted off into the distance. She idly hoped none of them hit the cabin. But that could be dealt with later.

Purple light flooded the clearing. She let out a manic laugh. Beautiful. This was beautiful!

Shedding her cloak, she ripped [OM2T]-kleis from the earth and then used it to blast a crater into the clearing with a massive boom . A thundercrack exploded in the sky, and rain began to fall in sheets, drenching the ground and drenching her.

Time to make it beautiful.

She raised her hands to the sky and saplings wriggled up from the ground, growing at an exaggerated pace as the ground under her began to quake. The earth beneath her feet liquified and she sank, before her feet connected with something solid and she began to rise.

The wind whipped around her, leaves flying off of trees, thunder booming overhead- she raised [OM2T]-kleis to the sky and cackled in a manner that could be only described as maniacal.

“ Showie! ”

Braig . Oh, beautiful.

She looked behind her, chills wracking her body. He was standing there, absolutely soaked. Small, and shrinking as she rose. The pillar ground to a halt about 30 feet in the air. She smiled at him. Oh, he was beautiful. Black and white striped petunias burst from the ground around his feet.

"Showie, you have to stop!"

Stop? Stop?

Why?

She tilted her head at him. The flowers quickly began to spread to the rest of the clearing, rushing in between the rapidly growing trees.

A door suddenly appeared off to the left– not attached to anything, just sort of… there. It opened, and out walked The Narrator. Who was still wearing a flowy summer dress. The same one, as before. Yellow and black stripes. She liked black stripes.

Sunflowers burst from the ground and began the mad dash to the other side of the clearing. “Clearing”. It was rather full now.

“Uh–” the Narrator called out hesitantly “What’s all this about?”

She let out a crazed laugh, and called over the wind, “ I’m creating ! Isn’t it beautiful?!”

Lightning flashed, striking a nearby tree.

“Well– uh– yes? But I– I’d recommend using a bit more caution? Like the ice woman from Frozen ? You’re, uh. Affecting everything.”

“ Elsa? ” She shouted, “ Elsa fucking rules , though!”

"Yeah, good fucking job there," Braig hissed at the Narrator.

“Well, but–” the Narrator sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m not that familiar with all of the Disney movies. Perhaps you can think of a better comparison?”

"Forget comparisons! You wanna help, go to the cabin and get Sora!"

Sora??!! Oh, she would love for Sora to see this- she nodded, but they didn’t see her.

“Sora Kingdomhearts is here?”

"Ki- Yeah, sure, whatever. Spiky hair, giant clown shoes. Go fucking get him! "

“I know what he looks like, I’ve played the game.” the Narrator said shortly, and then he was gone.

About 2 minutes later, he came back  through with-

“Sora!” She raised her keyblade and laughed- lighting came down, narrowly missing her, “Hi!”

"What happened to you?!" He yelled.

She tilted her head, smiling. The chills from before still wracked her body, and the cool rain wasn’t helping. Still, she was elated . “Keyblade!” She shouted, holding it up for him to see.

She could see Sora back up a few steps. Why? Because it was too muddy? She tilted her head. The ground under his feet dried until it cracked. The rain let up from a pour to a mere shower. Blue irises burst from the ground where he stood in a spiral.

Braig put his hand on Sora's shoulder and said something she couldn't hear. Sora nodded.

The Narrator stared at her coldly and took a deep breath out. He glanced over at Sora, and then nervously spoke up.

“Uh, all this is a bit distracting for me? And I’d like to be able to fix Stanley by the end of the day tomorrow, if possible? So could you, uhm. Perhaps work on a smaller scale?”

She stared down at him. She was quiet for a few seconds, feeling [OM2T]-kleis buzz in her hand.

“Fuck you.”

“Alright!” the Narrator yelped, and then he blinked out of existence. Who knows where he went.

She stared at the space where he’d been.

She looked at Sora, “I didn’t do that!”

"I know!" Sora called back up to her. "I know you don't want to hurt anyone right now!"

More blue irises spiraled through the ‘clearing’, the orchard, now.

Braig said something else to Sora, still too quiet for her to hear. Sora nodded again, then looked up at her. "Can we come up there with you? Just to talk for a minute? Please?"

She smiled brightly, nodding. They were going to come up there! Then they could see how beautiful it was up here.

A moment later, both Sora and Braig had been warped up on top of the pillar with her. Behind her. She whipped around, letting out a manic laugh, “Look! I- I’ve never been able to do this before-” she saw the expressions on their faces and paused, staring. “What’s wrong?”

"Showie- Doll-" Even his voice sounded all worried. Why was he worried? "I know you're having a good time here, but you need to stop. At least, slow down. Your body isn't used to this much power all at once- you're going to hurt yourself at this rate."

She tilted her head, “I feel fine! I feel great! L-look what I can do!” She pointed her keyblade at the stone pillar under their feet-

Sora – and? Braig??? – flinched. But Sora just said he knew she didn't want to hurt anyone right now. Why was he flinching?

She would carry out her intended action. That would fix it.

Blue irises and black and white striped petunias burst from the stone pillar, split down the middle.

"Please, we're worried about you!" Sora said, taking a step forward. "Look at how you're shaking!"

Shaking?

She looked down at the arm holding her keyblade. Huh. Look at that. Like a leaf.

“I’m cold, maybe.” She said, turning her arm this way and that. She didn’t feel cold, but who knew? Certainly not her.

"I don't doubt that, but I also don't doubt that that's not the only cause."  It was Braig speaking again.

She stared at her arm, then down at the rest of her. Like a leaf. Huh. Look at that.

She looked up at both of them, staring for a few moments.

“Are you mad at me?”

"No, doll. No one is mad at you. We're just worried." Braig paused, before extending a hand towards her. "Hey, why don't you put away the keyblade for a minute? Just until you stop shaking? We can come back to this later."

She stared at him. Then looked up at the sky. Cool rain fell down onto her face. She looked down at the crater- the pond, now- she smiled. It was beautiful.

She looked back at him, tilting her head.

"We can go hang out at home for a minute, dry off, warm up- Sora can come too, if he wants-"

She tilted her head the other direction. If Braig was suggesting Sora come along, something was seriously wrong. She heard a crackling noise and felt a tingle go up her spine.

"Y-Yeah-!" Sora chimed in. "And we could watch a movie, or something! Your pick."

“You don’t want that, though,” she said, staring sort of past them, “Neither of you want that, though.” She looked at Braig.

"You like him. I can tolerate him- for you. I don't hate the kid."

She looked to her right, staring at the opposite side of the force field. Woah. The entire thing was glowing purple. Cool. She smiled at it. [OM2T]-kleis hummed in her hand. She must’ve been staring at it for longer than she realized, though, because Braig said,

“It'll just be a minute. Then, if you want, you can go right back to creating all this. Okay? Please?"

She didn’t look back at him. She was thinking of the expression on Sora’s face. More than just worried.

  “Sora?” She asked, still staring at the force field, but now looking up.

"Yeah?"

“You look, like, scared?” The forcefield rippled. She turned her gaze to the cabin. Some White Boys- the hero types- had gathered outside. “Is there, like, something in particular that’s scary? Or just-” She looked back up at the sky, “-or just.” She didn’t finish.

"... Yeah, I am scared. This is scary. I-" He paused. "The only other time I've seen something like this was when I was fighting Xehanort . And- If Xigbar is freaked out too? It's… It's a lot. And I'm scared for you."

“Ew, Xehanort?” The rain stopped. She looked at him, her keyblade at her side.

"You're not like him. I know that. But it's scaring me anyway, y'know? You're my friend."

The growth on the trees and plants below slowed to a stop. The purple began to fade from the force field. She stared at [OM2T]-kleis. Glowing purple on the Xigstripe. A few baby blue forget-me-nots bloomed on the hand holding the blade, the roots wrapping around the outside of her wrist like a friendship bracelet.

"It's all gonna be okay." Sora's voice was softer now, but a lot less fearful. Hopeful, now. "We can just go hang out for a little while. Catch a breath?"  He offered his hand to her, too, practically mirroring Braig.

She wished he didn’t know her name. She would have told him. “I- I-” She stared at [OM2T]-kleis. Shook it a little. Go away, purple. ‘No’, said [OM2T]-kleis, ‘Purple fucks severely’. She glanced behind her, staring at the large drop below.

"It's okay." Braig's voice was gentle. "It won't stay like that forever. It'll go away if you dismiss it."

‘It’ll go away if you dismiss it’ repeated [OM2T]-kleis. Shut up, [OM2T]-kleis.

Still holding it, she took a step towards Braig, away from the edge.

"Yeah, it's okay. We've got you." 'We'. Huh. He was counting himself in with Sora.

She closed her hand, dismissing [OM2T]-kleis. And promptly fainted, crumbling towards the edge of the pillar.

#### Divine Madness Chapter 2

"... Nah, you're totally cheating, kid."

"I am not! You just suck at this game."

" You take that back you little -"

"Don't bump me off the track!"

… What?

Showie opened her eyes. She was laying down in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was brighter than she would have liked it- she had a headache something massive , and she was so cold .

"Don't get under my wheels then! Knucklehead."

"You went out of your way to hit me, but okay, whatever you say."

Braig? … and Sora?

They were laughing? Together? What?

She furrowed her brow, then slowly closed her eyes. Her face itched, but no way in hell was she moving.

"As if! What, little baby can't handle getting mowed down by a kickass motorcycle?"

"Booooo. You suck, man."

"I'm great, actually."

She smiled. Look at them, getting along. This was a promising sign towards the trip to Disney (company) World/Land that she was definitely making Braig go on.

"Yeah, right. Check the scoreboard, old man."

"Hey. I let you win."

"Uh huh. Sure you did. That's totally why you got all dramatic and fell off the cliff."

"Keyblade Graveyard's boring, kid. Gotta add some kind of entertainment."

"You say entertainment, I say you're crazy."

"Ha! Can't it be both?"

It wasn’t the first time she’d blown her cover by laughing, but it was definitely lower stakes than the last time. She quickly stifled it, but it was too late.

"She's awake- Pause it-"

"You're player one, Xigbar."

"No, I'm not."

A pause, “Oh.”

She heard the game pause.

Two sets of footsteps approached her.

"Hey, doll… How you feeling?"

"We were worried."

“I-” She opened her eyes, squinting. Ouch. Headache. A moment later, a shadow appeared over her eyes- Braig was blocking the light with his hand. Ough. “headache,” she said, “and chills. It’s- I’m okay,” she said, making a little effort to sit up.

"Hang on- Sora, stand here." He pulled Sora to where he was standing to block out the light.

A few moments later, he came back with a glass of water and a pill bottle. Ibuprofen.

She half smiled at him, then fully smiled.

“How many do you take?” Braig asked.

“Like 10.” She said.

"Isn't that bad for your liver or something?" Sora asked.

“Do I even have a liver?” She wondered out loud, “I-” She paused, “Yeah, right?” Pause. “Anyway, if I do, it’s ivory. I need a higher dose of everything or it just doesn’t work.” She sat up more, swinging a leg over the side of the bed. She noticed she was wearing different clothes than she’d put on that morning, and decided to forget about that fact immediately. Block that right out.

"Alright. 10 of these motherfuckers coming right up." He glanced at Sora. "By the way, kid. Always carry ibuprofen and a switchblade. Could save your life."

"What?" Sora looked at him like he was crazy. "Why would I need a knife? I have a keyblade."

"Easier to cut things, duh. I know you have some kind of brain in there, Starboy." Braig's voice didn't have any real bite to it. Not like how it was when he normally talked to Sora. She smiled at him softly. World’s greenest flag, right there. And Starboy .

"Why are you calling me that, again?"

"Ha. Wouldn't you like to know." Braig's attention turned back to her. "Here. This should help."

She held out her hand and he poured them from his palm into hers. She popped them all in at once, then accepted the glass of water.

"So… What was all that about?" Braig looked relieved. Maybe because she was awake?

She stared at him.

"What?" He tilted his head. "... Do you not remember what happened?"

“I…” She thought hard, “I remember…” flashes of something. Purple light. Something blue. A flower bracelet around her wrist. She looked at her wrist. Still there. “Energy. Being full of it. I remember standing over the coffee table- what used to be the coffee table, I mean, and then I asked you something… and then it was raining, and you two were there…” She held up her wrist, “and then This, and then… I woke up.”

"You, uh… You went a little mad with power. Started throwing trees and razing the earth. Scared the shit out of me."

“I- I doubt I razed the Earth , I’m not- I’m not an earth razing.. Kind of. Person.” She was uncertain, though. She didn’t think Braig was lying to her, but…

"There's, uh. There's a pond out there now. It was a crater, but you also had a magic hurricane going on. Keykid here helped calm you down enough for it to stop, though." He ruffled Sora's hair.

She smiled, she couldn’t help it, but then said, “I-” She looked down at her wrist, confused.

"You had a whole thing with flowers, too. I'm pretty sure they're still everywhere out there," Braig continued.

She was quiet for a moment, then said quietly, “C-could we go look? I- I don’t think I would have… Maybe I can make sense of it. Or remember.”

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Yeah, you look half dead," Sora agreed.

“I-” She looked at her arms, “Half dead?” Because she actually looked half dead or because she was so pale? Because her pallor couldn’t be helped. She looked at Braig for confirmation, he would know.

"Yeah. No offense, doll, but you look like you got hit by a truck. … In a magical sense, you kinda did."

She bit back a grin, “A truck? Or. Or a.”

"Train can't hit you if you're hanging onto the top of it." He grinned at her, that sort of crooked half grin he got when he was joking.

"... Okay, weird inside joke between you two aside… Where did you even get a keyblade? Both of you?"

“Oh, B-” She smiled, “Xigbar took me down to the arena and said a thingy. Then I summoned it. It’s called [OM2T]-kleis.”

"Yeah- I'm a master, kiddo."

" You're a what . "

"Have been since a lot longer than you've been alive, too." He smirked. "What was that you said about me not being worthy, again?"

Showie smiled at Braig, tilting her head.

"Like I believe that!" At Sora's taunt, Braig summoned his keyblade in one hand. The hand on the side that Sora wasn't.

"Believe it or not, it's still true."

“How would I have gotten mine if he wasn’t?” She stared at the Janus-themed keyblade, “I don’t, like, talk to people. I mean.” She paused, “No other keyblade-types. You two are the only ones I know. And Riku, I suppose.” she paused, “And, well. You know.”

"Seriously? Then why did you never use it?"

“That’s what I asked!” She said, looking between them, “Apparently the arrowguns are more fun. Not too sure about that, though.”

"You're only sayin' that because you can't ever find the trigger."

“You know what I can find though?” She poked his chest.

"... Please at least wait until I'm gone before you two start flirting again- I don't need to have any images in my head-"

“I’m not flirting. Anyway, I want to go see.” She moved her other leg onto the floor and then grabbed onto Braig to help herself up.

"Woahkay-" He leaned way over when she got up, but quickly stood back up and stabilized. "Okay. If you're sure, we can go see it."

“I’m sure. You guys aren’t allowed to hate me, though. I’ll melt like a witch.”

She looked around for her cloak, and couldn’t find it. She walked over to her closet. Nary a one.

“Well this is inconvenient.” She crossed her arms.

"Hate you? As if."  Braig crossed his arms. "I think there was one in your little clearing. You want me to go get it?"

“No. I want to be able to piece together what happened.” She waved her hand, “I can go cloakless. Amy will just have to dim everything-” the lights in the room suddenly dimmed, “and I need a moment to put on pigment. And- oh-” She remembered her hair- “Nevermind, actually. Amy, the lights can go back on-” they went back on, “just move all of the kins to where they belong and make sure all of the white boys are in the cabin.”

"Huh?" Sora looked around. "What just happened?"

“Do you know Amy?” Showie asked, slipping on some heels, “Has she messaged you yet?”

"Oh, uh, yeah- Once or twice." Sora pulled out his phone and started swiping. "Oh! Looks like I completely missed something. Whoops. I'll answer it in a bit."

"Knucklehead." Braig lightly thumped him on the top of the head.

"Hey!"

She smiled warmly, then waved her hand, “Well, anyway, Amy is my intern, she keeps track of everything that goes on in the force field. Not all at once, though, don’t worry. Hm, I wonder who she’s zoomed in on right now. Ah- that means, who she’s paying the most attention to, seeing from the perspective of. Let me see-” She thought, Amy, flicker the lights.

The lights flickered.

“Oh, I suppose it’s me. That makes sense. If I don’t end up remembering, I can always get the record. Anyway.” She waved it away.

"Yeah, well. When you see the records, I was definitely Super Cool and Not At All Freaking Out." Braig crossed his arms and grinned.

“Well, seeing as it was taken from my perspective, you probably were,” She said, walking over to the door, “Shall we go?”

"Aww, you think I'm cool? Cringe," he chuckled.

"Ugh. Percy and Firestar really were right about you two."

She paused, laughing slightly, “What?” She looked back at him, confused. Worried he might call her a dark ass motherfucker or something.

"Firestar said-" Sora cut himself off, looking embarrassed.

"Oh, come on. Now you gotta tell us."

"He- He said he… saw you guys… ₛₕₐᵣᵢₙ𝓰 ₜₒₙ𝓰ᵤₑₛ."

“I- what? ” Showie looked back at him, very confused. They hadn’t even, like, done that . Like they’ve kissed, sure, like middle schoolers though.

"We haven't even been together that long, dude."

"Hey, that's just what the cat said!" Sora threw his hands in the air.

It hit her.

“Oh.”

A pause.

“ Oh! ” She laughed, supporting herself on the wall. “That’s so fucking- that’s so funny. Talk about a miscommunication. Is he talking about when Xigbar and I started working together? Sharing tongues- it’s been a while since I read Warrior Cats, but- sharing tongues means, like, allogrooming. Xigbar kissed my hand , sure, but-” she giggled.

"Holy shit! " Xigbar burst out laughing, loud cackles that nearly put him on the ground. "That's- So they all think we're just out in the woods with our fuckin' tongues down each other's throats? That's so fucking funny, holy shit!"

“I mean, I understand the confusion, but- oh, that’s amusing. Anyway .”

"Oh my gosh- I gotta tell Percy." Sora shook his head. "He's got completely the wrong idea. He thinks you two are-"

"No, no, we are together."  Braig waved one hand. "That's just a lot more recent a development than the whole hand thing."

“Yeah,” Showie said, “That was- when that happened, I was still trying to- get him to leave the force field.” She gave him a look like ‘ please don’t correct me.’

"Ha! Only 'cause you couldn't kill me."

She stared at him.

"Really?" Sora tilted his head. "It isn't that hard."

" HEY-" Braig protested at the same time Showie burst into laughter.

“T-to be fair,” She laughed, “I think my methodology was flawed. Luckily.”

"You both suck," Braig said, pouting. "I can't thrive in this family. I'm packing my little backpack and running away from home."

“You gonna pack a little bindle?” she smiled, “Put it over your shoulder on the end of an arrowgun?”

"I'll put you in a bindle."

“Paris of Troy ass,” She grinned. “ An-y-way- we should go-” She opened the door and stepped outside of the room, “I know you can warp, but we’ll be walking down. I want to retrace my steps.”

"Eh, I gotta stretch my legs, anyway. Been on that counch for too long."

"You say that like it wasn't your idea," replied Sora, poking him in the ribs with an elbow. Aww.

"Yeah, well. Tell anyone and I'm throwing you out a window. Got a reputation to hold up, squirt." Very obviously empty threat.

She looked at him fondly. Yeah, okay, she loved him. She loved him. She- was going to act normal now. Time to act normal. Stop thinking of the future, Showie, think of going outside. She looked back at the hallway, and said, “Okay. So- I would have exited the arena as I normally do. That’s this way,” She said, leading them down the hall.

"If we're retracing your steps, does that mean we all go smash the coffee table again then run out of here in a blind burst of energy?"  Braig grinned. Why is he like this.

She stopped in her tracks, “Oh! That reminds me! I remembered something.” She turned to face him and then looked closely at his hair- ah, yes, there it was. A lock cut off at shoulder length. Ha, no. She reached out and traced its path up to where it left his scalp.

“Hold still,” she said, and closed her eyes. She felt a tug in her gut, like she was falling. She heard Sora gasp, for some reason, and she felt his hair begin to grow beneath her fingers. When she thought it was the correct length, she opened her eyes again and the sensation stopped.

“There you are. Sorry about that,” she said.

"Oh- Thanks." He gave her that little half smirk. "What, didn't want me to cut it to match?"

She raised an eyebrow, then held back a grin. “As if.”

"We could have matching haircuts- be one of those couples. You know, the weird ones? With those mall studio family photos with all the lasers in the background?"

She cackled, “Don’t tempt me!”

She turned back around and, still smiling, led the way to the door that led to the staircase.

She opened the door, “Down the stairs, now. I-” She froze a few steps down, staring at a spot on the wall, “ Oh. Well. That’s blood.”

"Blood?" Sora said, alarmed. "Do- Do you know whose blood?"

“Well, it’s gray, so. Mine.” She wiped some off of the wall with her finger.

"You think it's from when you broke the table?" Braig leaned closer to get a look in, himself. "I didn't see any blood on you during the whole. Magic purple hurricane thing."

“And I’m not in any pain. And I didn’t- don’t notice any wounds. I-” she frowned, “Maybe Amy has the record? We- At least we know I definitely went this way. I don’t think I hurt myself on the table.”

"I'm just worried there's internal damage no one knows about. That was a lot of power you took on all at once- It can't have good side effects."

She looked down at herself, then poked herself in the stomach. No pain. “It’s not like I’m not familiar with large amounts of power. That- I think- was just the first time with a conduit. And that dream I had…”

"Dream? What kind of dream?" Sora asked. "Like an important one?"

“I- I was standing in a field. The one that- I can't exactly remember, but it’s one I knew, back in greece. It was night. I went to summon my keyblade, but my past self, from when I was human, showed up instead. She was holding my hand. After a while she metamorphosized into my keyblade, and then I woke up. I- I woke up knowing that my keyblades name was now [OM2T]-kleis, and that I don’t have one anymore.”

"Damn. The thing stole half your name." Braig paused, as if he was processing what was just said. "Wait. What? You don't have a name anymore?"

She stared at the blood on her hand and shook her head, “It’s not- it’s not mine anymore. Fully. Like, not at all. It’s gone. I- I’m… not [OMITTED LAYER 2].” She summoned her keyblade, “This is. I mean, [OM2T]-kleis, but it’s the same thing.” She stared at it. Wiped some blood on the Xigstripe. Dismissed it.

"It sounds like it's for the best." Sora looked at her, a slight smile on his face. "A fresh start, y'know?"

"For once, I actually agree with this kid."

“Oh, certainly. Not a negative thing at all.” She summoned it back, “I only wish it’d’ve given me one in retu- Oh!” She brought the hilt closer to her face. “It- it says [OM2T]-kleis on it. That’s new. And not how I thought it’d be spelled.” She paused, “So the dream was definitely real in some regard.”

"Huh. Would ya look at that." Braig peered over her shoulder at the new inscription. "In my opinion, most dreams don't mean anything, but that… It had to have a fuckload of significance."

"Xigbar, do you have a reverse swear jar or something? Get 10 munny every time you cuss?" Sora crossed his arms.

"Nah. Just nice being able to swear without Xemnas death glaring me," he snickered. "Dude had a weird thing about swearing. Never say the fuck word around him."

"... Wasn't going to."

Showie tilted her head, starting down the staircase again, “Xemnas, Crackpipe Ansem’s cult half?” She paused, “It is crackpipe Ansem, yes? Not trigger warning Ansem?”

"Yeah. You got it."

"... Trigger warning Ansem?" Sora asked, confused.

"She means Ansem The Wise, kiddo. Looks like Ansem Trigger Warning when it gets abbreviated."

“Oh,” She smiled, though they couldn’t see (she was leading), “Well, I refuse to adjust. Doesn’t sound very wise to me.” She paused, “Didn’t he, like, do blackface? Someone on tumblr told me he did blackface. What’s up with that? Why did he wake up and decide to become Ansem the Racist?”

"HUH???"  Sora sounded so confused. Aww.

She looked behind her at Braig, then back at the stairs. She didn’t want to trip and die, but she also wanted an answer.

"Yeahhhhh, that guy went a little crazy after uh, the whole 'stealing his political power and exiling him to the Realm of Darkness' thing." Braig shrugged. "But I mean. He got out , right? No harm no foul."

"You… You need a time out corner or something."

"Hey, blame Xehanort. It was his idea."

Showie sort of made a face, “Xehanort’s so gross. Why is he like that.”

"Dude got traumatized and couldn't be normal about it. Granted, if he knew I didn't die back then, he might've been slightly better, but probably not."

"I have so many questions." Sora frowned.

"And I'm not answerin' 'em. Moving on!"

“That sucks for him, but I’m asking why he’s all bald and hunched over all the time.” Showie smiled.

"Yeah, that's called being eighty-something and having scoliosis, doll."

She shook her head, “Then he aged terribly . I’ve seen 80 somethings that literally look fine.” She didn’t say she was referring to [Name Redacted]. “Maybe that’s just what hitting the crack pipe of darkness does to a guy.”

"HA! Shit, maybe. But then again, I still look great, so who knows?"

She laughed slightly as they reached the hallway that would take them to the doors of the arena. She paused, looking at the floor. “That’s a scuff. Looks like I tripped here.”

"Yeah, sounds about right for you." So, clearly Braig was no longer worried.

“I could have fallen and cracked my head on the hard concrete floor, B-Xigbar. You would have had to go to an art gallery to get a replacement. I could have perished where we stand,” she said, waving her hand and beginning to walk down the hall, looking around for signs of what she had done next.

"Screw it- You can use the other name in front of the kid. Just no one else, 'kay?" He grinned. "And an art gallery? As if. Never met another statue as crazy as you." His voice was warm.

Because they couldn’t see, she did put a hand over her heart. Awww. About the name thing. “Okay, Braig,” she said, trying not to melt.

"Braig? Really? That's your name?"

"Can it, ya gremlin."

She would not laugh. She’d smile affectionately, though. She opened her mouth to say something, then looked at the wall. A massive scratch running along the side. Huh.

She summoned [OM2T]kleis and placed the tip on the beginning of the scratch, lightly trailing it for a few feet. “Huh. Looks like I got silly with it down here.”

"Yeah, just like I got silly with-" Braig cut himself off, glancing at Sora. "Yeah, actually- Not finishing that."

"... Don't wanna know."

Neither did she. She dismissed [OM2T]kleis, and ran her hand along the scratch as she walked instead. It rose and fell like a wave. Tracing it was calming, somehow.

They reached the door.

“Okay,” she said, “Now, if I were having a power overload moment, I would…” She put one hand on each of the double doors and then flung them open dramatically. They banged against the wall on either side, “Yeah. That’s what I would do. And then,” She walked a few steps forward, “Ah- my shoes.”

They were flung in two different directions in the grass like she’d kicked them off, and they were both damp. Everything was damp. Had it rained?

She picked them up and transported them into her room.

“So I bang open the doors and kick my shoes off in a frenzy. Then what.” She looked around, seeing for the first time the random trees and massive trails of carnage on the lawn. “Oh.”

"Tooooold you. Razing the earth."

“Throwing trees is not razing the earth! I’m not an earth razer!” She said defensively, not looking at him.

"I'm just kidding. But even if I wasn't, you weren't exactly in your right mind. Never saw you start throwing trees around before this."

She hugged herself, uncertain. After a moment, she said, “...Anyway. The trails point over there-” she nodded to the left, “So let’s follow them.”

"Yes, ma'am." Braig mock saluted.

"Lead the way, Showie."

She smiled at that. The Showie part. Braig’s one had not made her feel good.

They set off in the direction she was pretty sure she would have run. She felt a stirring in her chest not unlike when Braig had said that magical poem thing. Accompanied by a faint buzzing in her fingers and toes. This was the right way, then.

“Do you have any idea what I was trying to do?” She asked them.

"Create. At least, that's what you told the Narrator when he showed up. Then you basically almost immediately told him to fuck off. Highlight of that whole event, for sure."

“Wh- justified? Or did I-” She felt distressed.

"Yeah, justified. He was like 'blehh your whole magic hurricane breakdown thing is distracting me you should stop' so you point blank told him to fuck off." Braig shrugged.

“I hope that didn’t ruin anything. I was making progress with him, I think. After the computer incident.”

"What's the computer incident?" Sora asked.

"Nope. Not answering that one." Aw, he's embarrassed. It's almost cute.

“The Narrator broke his word and tried to break Xigbar’s neck by dropping an old ass computer on him,” She said. She was still salty. “Uncalled for, and a breach of trust. I had to hit it out of the way with [OM2T]kleis.” she waved her hand in an angry sort of way, “Still, though, Stanley cares about him, and so I tolerate. This is after The Narrator slammed a door on me in a dark room and nearly sent me into a panic at BFD.”

"Yeah, one of these days, I'm gonna deck his ass." Braig crossed his arms.

“No, you won’t.” She shook her head, “He’s an eldritch being.”

"Dude's had it coming since FOMB season 2. He was a bitch and a half." Thankfully, he didn't elaborate on the meaning of FOMB. "I don't know why Lex had me in a group with him."

“Obviously, someone said Please,” She waved her hand, “But anyway. You won’t attack him. I’m making an effort for Stanley and I want you to make an effort for me, okay? Besides, The Narrator has Necrogenesis that I haven’t been able to turn off yet. Not to mention the rest of his powers. I don’t-” she paused, “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t care if you’ll be okay eventually anyway.”

"Yeah, okay. I'll give you that." He paused. "Especially since, uh… given the current. Situation , If I end up dead and can't y'know before it's too late, that's lights out for me."

“You forget who you’re dating. Unless.” she paused, then looked back at him, puzzled.

"Oh, yeah. I don't know why I keep forgetting about that."

"Wait, wait, wait. Back up. 'Situation'?" Sora blinked, then a look of realization crossed his face. "You have a heart again, don't you?"

"Yeah, no shit, kid. That's kinda what happens when you kill a Nobody."

"I mean, you kept it?"

"Nah, but. You know." He glanced at Showie. "Sometimes things happen."

“They do,” She said. They do, they do, they do. A reference that wouldn’t make sense to them, so why say it outloud? “Sorry, Sora, by the way, for making you uncomfortable back in BFD. The tattoo? Fake. I was going to say, ‘I made you regrow your heart’, and then had to backtrack out of saying that outloud.”

"It's fine." Sora smiled. "I'm happy for you two. It's about time this one has someone in his life that isn't super evil." He poked Braig again.

"Cut it out," he huffed, no actual aggression to him.

She smiled. She looked at the ground as she walked, pausing as she saw a single flower sprouting from the ground. She bent to pick it.

She smiled at it, “A petunia. Black and White stripes.” She glanced at Braig, then back at the flower.

"Yeah, as soon as you saw me they started growing everywhere. I mean, I guess I see the resemblance." He grinned. "Still saying that not everything with stripes looks like me, though."

“Well, obviously,” she said, “They need to be a certain kind of stripes.” She paused, looking back at him, wondering if she could get away with this next move. Yeah, probably.

“Hold still or else,” she said, walking towards him.

"... Only because no one's gonna see it. Reputation, remember?" He was grumbling, but it was still pretty clear it was a joke.

She tucked the flower behind his ear, “No one will see it anyway. It blends in.” She smiled at him. Okay, she loved him. Not that this was news, but it kept hitting her. “Anyway, the woods,” She gave his shoulder a squeeze before turning back around and stepping past the treeline.

She couldn't see what happened, but something made Braig tell Sora to "Shut it". Turned around a bit too soon, evidently.

"So, what's the plan for when we get there?" Sora asked, jogging up beside her.

“Just look around, I suppose. I still don’t think I ‘razed the earth’, and I want to see- Maybe I can tell what I was trying to do. Maybe it will make sense once I see it. Be careful, though,” She glanced at him, “if I grew plants, any number of them could be poisonous. My magic comes in part from the goddess Hecate, and that’s a specialty of hers. Normally I don’t, but apparently I was in a sort of trance last night, or whenever this was.” She said, because she didn’t know how much time had passed.

"Yeah, seemed like it. You had this look in your eye-" Sora shook his head. "I'm just glad that the whole purple thing wasn't darkness. Especially since it's all over your face."

She blinked, then ran a finger across her cheek. She pulled it back to look- “Ah. Yes, that’s just pigment. I’m an ivory statue, technically. If I want color I need to put it on.” she paused, “Braig, you’ll change my clothes but not wash off my face?” She glanced back at him, not mad, just confused.

"I'll admit, I was still kinda freaking out. Just wanted to make sure you didn't get sick- the pigment seemed low priority compared to your outfit."

She nodded, then looked at Sora, “Darkness is purple?”

"Well, black , but it glows purple."

"He's actually right." Braig nodded.

Showie glanced back at him somewhat disapprovingly, then sort of motioned for him to come up on her other side. She looked at the ground- the flowers were getting more frequent, and now had some blue irises and yellow sunflowers mixed in.

"You were really in a flower kind of mood, huh?" Sora asked. "The blue ones are me, I think. All the different ones seem to be attached to different people."

"Sunflowers were the Narrator, I think. He was wearing yellow."

“That’s his color, too,” she said, “It came up in aaahh-” She cringed mid-sentence, drawing her arms close to her body in discomfort. Don’t think about the- how he’d said- or how she was-

She waved her hands in a distressed kind of way, “Anyway!”

"We should be getting close now." Braig looked around. "The flowers are getting thick."

“Yep!” She said, “Probably!”

She looked around, seeing a few more fallen trees that hadn’t been blasted very far away. “Probably.” She calmed down a bit.

"I will admit, you did make a nice area. Everything else was just too scary to notice that in the moment." Braig said. "Neat pond, cool tower thing, y'know."

“Tower thing?” They entered the clearing- “Oh!” She said, understanding at once.

The flowers covered everything that wasn’t a tree- and there certainly were trees, already bearing several types of fruit that didn’t exist. The pond was on the left hand side of the clearing, and on the right, a tall stone tower-

“It’s Tangled,” she said. “I made Tangled.” She paused, “Oh, gods, I made Tangled . I must’ve been going through it. ”

"That's why it looks so familiar!" Sora snapped his fingers. "... Hm, wonder how Rapunzel's doing…"

"Focus, kid." He looked at her. "It's not that surprising- You've had a hell of a week."

She hummed, “Speaking of, I want to talk to Stanley about that, once he wakes up.” Braig hadn’t been very helpful during their thinly veiled talk on the subject. She looked around, “Well, I can tell where you all were standing,” she said.

She pointed to the place where the different flowers were thickest, no other kinds mixed in. The Sora Flowers- the blue irises, exploded out in a massive spiral, while the Braig Petunias radiated out like a star. A small patch of sunflowers indicated where the Narrator had been.

"Yeah. Then after a little back and forth with the conversation, we went up there to talk to you." Braig gestured to the ivy wrapped stone tower. "You were up there the whole time."

“Am I allowed to think that’s pretty kickass?” she said half-jokingly.

"I think it's badass."

"Yeaaaaaah… I'm not gonna comment." Sora looked a little uncomfortable.

Ouch. Okay. She looked at the ground, a sort of shame prickling in her chest. After a moment, she said, “Okay, and then what?”

"We talked for a minute, you calmed down, then that flower bracelet thing grew on your wrist and you fainted." Braig explained. "In all honesty, it went by pretty fast."

“Wh- what calmed me down?” She hugged herself, looking at the tower, which she didn’t really like anymore.

"Honestly? Pipsqueak here." He ruffled Sora's hair again – or at least tried to before he was swatted away. "Just him showing up got the rain to lighten up."

"Stop it with my hair-" He looked embarrassed. Aww. "But- Yeah, you and me talking did seem to help a lot."

She looked at the spiral of blue irises, then at the forget-me-not bracelet around her wrist. Then at the tower. She could see some blue irises and Braig Petunias spilling off the top.

“I- I don’t remember anything that was said,” she said.

"That's okay." Sora said. "It wasn't that important overall."

"We do have a movie night happening at some point, though. The three of us."  Braig didn't look at either of them. Ha, now he's embarrassed. He likes them.

She was sure neither of them wanted that, though. Tolerating Sora, in Braig’s case, and for Sora, tolerating both of them.

A prickle of discomfort grew in her chest. She was always doing this. Having a breakdown and then causing the people around her to do things they didn’t want to, or she’d lose it again. Braig was probably getting sick of her by now, he seemed exhausted with everything that had been happening, and that was before she’d caused the mess with his father-

She looked at the ground.

"Hey, you okay, doll?" He always seemed to pick up on it. Weird amount of emotional intelligence for someone who can't talk about his feelings or he'd melt like a witch.

“I’m fine,” she lied, waving his question away, “I’m just-” think of a lie. Think of a lie. She couldn’t, not without bringing up-

Oh, Metharme.

No! She would not go through it again. She would act normal.

“I- I’ll just check the record,” she said, “Amy will have recorded everything I saw.”

"Okay." He paused. "... You know I'm not gonna make you talk, but you know I'm here for you if you need me, right?"

She didn’t answer immediately. Then, eventually, she nodded. But he shouldn’t have to be.

He didn't say anything after that. Just reached over and held her hand. Whether he was doing it for her or himself, she couldn't really tell.

After a moment, she said, “M-maybe the record- I mean, she’s definitely awake, we- I- we-”

"We can go see, if you want. She wouldn't mind all three of us going to look, right?" Braig asked.

“Oh, no, Amy likes visitors. Answering questions, all that. We could- it would be fine.”

"Alright."

"So, does that mean we get to meet her?" Sora tilted his head. "I've been wondering what she's like."

Showie nodded, “Mmhmm. Her office is a floor down from the skybox.” she looked at Braig, “‘f’you get us into the second floor hallway, that gets us close.”

"I can do that. Let's just hope there's no coffee tables up there."

She smiled, and said jokingly, “Oh, didn’t you know? I had the kins place them all over so there’s always one for you to crash into.”

"Oh, you fiend . So mean to me. Mean to your goon. Jail for 1000 years!"  Braig gasped dramatically.

She half smiled. “Okay, take us to the hallway, space boy.”

"Fine, fine." Reality shifted for a second, like it went wavy, but then cleared. They were in the second floor hallway.

"I will never get used to that," said Sora, now looking a little green.

"And yet you handled it so well in battle."

"Yeah, well, fifteen year old me had a stronger stomach."

She did not want to think of them battling, so she called out, “Amy?”

The door at the end of the hallway opened.

“Cool, okay,” she said, and motioned for them to follow her.

Amy’s office was a sort of study. Screens lined the walls everywhere there wasn’t a bookshelf. There was a crackling fireplace, and on the desk, a typewriter. There was an open laptop off to the side as well. There were several boxes on the floor with names on them: Showrunner, Artemis, Prosper, Firestar, Xigbar, Annabeth, Stanley, and a few others. There were varying amounts of paper in the boxes. The ‘Sora’ box had just one packet inside. The Showrunner and Xigbar boxes were both filled about halfway.

On the other side of the room, there were boxes labeled ‘Visions’, also separated into names. The ‘Stanley’ box had a few, though the trashcan next to it was full of crumpled papers. The ‘Xigbar’ vision box had a single packet as well. There was a ‘Sora’ box, which was empty.

“Hello, Amy,” Showie said.

Amy turned around, the typewriter on the desk continuing to type without her.

Amy was a girl who- Showie wasn’t sure of her exact age, but she couldn't have been older than Sora. She had red hair that went down to her mid back, and dark brown eyes. She reminded Showie a bit of Metharme in that regard. Agh- Metharme. Stop thinking of that, Showie!

“Hello, Showrunner. Xigbar. Sora,” She said, her voice friendly but professional. She stood and reached into the ‘Showrunner’ box, pulling out a packet labeled ‘Divine Madness’. Lovely.

"... You two look a lot alike," Sora blurted out.

Showie tilted her head, “Do we?”

Amy said, “Hm? Anyway, the file, Showrunner.” She handed it to her, and Showie flipped it open.

"Yeah, now that you mention it… They do look pretty similar." Braig glanced between them. "Just, y'know. One of you is in color. And also a kid. And doesn't have a kickass hacksaw haircut."

Showie laughed slightly, then looked at the file. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amy move, but didn’t think much of it.

“Hm,” Showie said, flipping through it, “What-”

“Five and six, Showrunner,” Amy cut her off, turning to look at one of the screens.

Braig slowly sidled over to the vision boxes and tried to sneak a peek. Evidently, he'd seen the tumblr post about his behavior in some vision being 'fascinating'.

“You can always just ask questions, Xigbar,” Amy said, “I’m more than willing to answer. You don’t need to try to steal a glance at the visions.” She crossed over to the box and pulled it away, “They change, anyway,” she said, “Now that you’ve seen that first page, at the very least the wording will change.”

She picked it up, and read out, “ It was warm outside. It always was. And as weird and naked as he felt without it… Xigbar was glad he didn't have his coat. It would just make being outside miserable. He didn't understand how the Master could wear it all the time, hood and everything. Some things just don't have answers, and that man had most of 'em. ”

She said, “Do you want me to continue? There’s much more here,” She looked at him, “T here was so much going on lately. He needed the peace and quiet here. Just ten minutes to himself. Just to catch a breath. Every five seconds lately, it was something new. If it wasn’t- ”

"Okay, yeah, you can stop." Braig waved a hand at her. "I get it, I'll stop being nosy. Jesus."

“This first page is trash, anyway,” she said, “You’ll recognise your thought patterns, and it will change. But you’re welcome to ask questions about it,” She said pleasantly, tossing it back into the box.

"... Yeah, no. I'm good. Maybe it's just how I was raised, but sneaking peeks into the future just leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

She smiled, then said, “Showrunner?”

“Hm?”

“The packet. You’re not reading.”

“Ah, right.” She turned her attention back to the packet- Something something beautiful something something fuck off narrator, something something-

( "You're not like him. I know that. But it's scaring me anyway, y'know? You're my friend." )

Oh. Well then. That made her feel better.

"So, you've got like, everything written down in here?" Sora asked.

“Everything relevant,” Amy said, “I don’t pay complete attention to everything. But as for the important things, yes, I mark them down as soon as I get the file.” She paused, “Speaking of, I believe I sent you some questions, Sora?”

"Right ! Sorry, I keep forgetting to answer that. Haven't really been online much lately, y'know?" He smiled sheepishly, putting his arms behind his head, elbow up.

“I do,” Amy said. “Could you answer them now, perhaps? Just out loud, if that’s easier?”

"Oh, um-" He pulled out his phone and scrolled for a second, presumably to find the ask. "Sorry, I don't really remember. It was a while."

“That’s fine,” Amy said a bit stiffly, then sort of peered into the ‘Sora Vision’ box like she was expecting it to do something. When Showie looked over at it, she saw a few scribbled notes- not completely empty, then.

Showie looked back at the file, then held it out for Braig to look at. If he wanted to. maybe.

He did take it. Probably more out of curiosity rather than just wanting to placate her or something. He did seem interested in reading at least some of the records, even if it did bite him in the ass a little bit. He read for a couple moments, then looked up at her with a little grin on his face.

"You liiiiiiike me."

She crossed her arms and looked away.

"One of these days you should read the Me records," he said nonchalantly. "There's a lot of thoughts about you."

She stiffened. Uh. Um. Uh. She was not sure she wanted to read those, after all. Suddenly she felt very uncomfortable.

"It's not weird," he said quickly, all nonchalance gone. "Nothing weird. I just. Like you. A lot." He coughed awkwardly.

“I see,” She said, not really relaxing. “Amy, any news on the block?” she said, referring to her not being able to look up Metharme.

Amy said, “No, Showrunner. Sorry.”

Showie raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

#### Showie has… friends? Since When? [Xigdad]

“Hello, Xigdad,” The Showrunner called over her shoulder as The Master walked into the little clearing she’d made. She wasn’t in that cloak she usually wore, instead wearing what looked like loose white linen clothing.

“Ah- guess there’s no need to announce myself.” The Master replied back with a yawn. He had barely made it on time to meet the Showrunner. Despite having arranged the meeting less than an hour before, he had found himself dozing off and on before she alerted him to her readiness. Yawning again, he crouched down beside one of the newly conjured trees, avoiding any thorns.

She glanced back at him, then summoned her keyblade.

The Master gave a low whistle, looking up at the weapon. “That’s it huh? Lovely design. Xigbar really did a good job of teaching you from what I’ve heard.” He leaned his head against his arm, propped against his knee. “You don’t intend to fight me here?” He teased.

She’d stiffened at his whistle, then relaxed, then stiffened again, “No. It’s a conduit. For casting. Can’t have anyone wandering in and seeing you, can we?”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She raised her face to the sky. After a few moments, the end of her keyblade sparked purple, then a purple glow raced down the white stripe before jumping the hilt and lighting up her arm. Soon, all of her was glowing purple.

She breathed out, pointing her keyblade at the sky. A forcefield- a smaller one- rippled just around the clearing.

“There,” she said, still glowing. It was almost eerie. “Now no one will wander in to- what did you call it? ‘Peep the horrors’? You’ll need to show me whatever injuries if I have any hope of healing them.” She stabbed her keyblade into the ground, and lit a fire under a cauldron he hadn’t noticed before.

The Master hadn’t so much as flinched during the whole display, but rather watched with interest. Once she had set up the forcefield and requested the removement of his coat, he nodded, obliging before pausing. Many eyes in an inky dark patch covering his neck and one of his shoulders gazed unblinking back at her. “Just a warning. I’ll have to remove my shirt as well, I don’t want to alarm you but it is important to see all of the damage.”

She waved her hand, “It’s fine.” She walked over to a patch of plants growing in tight rows, muttering to herself as she picked several of them and then threw them into the cauldron. She brought out a silver vial from a pocket and dumped in a glowing golden liquid.

She brought out another couple of vials and emptied them into the cauldron as well.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, as she consulted a small notebook she was holding.

“I’m making the strongest healing potion I know of,” she told him, still glowing purple. She glanced at him, “I’m not sure exactly how it will work on your physiology, but it’s worth a shot.”

“At this point, I’m down to try… well, just about anything.” The Master admitted, stripping off his shirt and throwing it aside to reveal that the mass of glassy eyes reached all the way down the left side of his body down to the bottom of his stomach. “It’s not just these eyes. Every black portion of hair and feathers are an issue as well.” As he explained this, his wings and tail took their form behind him, giving her a better visual. Yet again, there was an intense inky blackness forming on the tips of the wings and feathers to his left.

“I see,” she said. “And that's… darkness?”

“Yes- well- yes and no.” He sighed, letting her inspect the area. “It is darkness but it’s one that was caused by a result of getting hurt from an attack by darkness. It’s like a scar… a painful scar that spreads if it’s not taken care of.”

“Well, if there’s one thing this potion is good for, it’s healing old wounds. All wounds, really. And sicknesses. In organic creatures, at least.” She tilted her head as she looked at him. “I-” She hesitated, “I- don’t know how to convey to you… how valuable any information on Paphus is to me. Thank you.”

She turned back to the cauldron and pulled her keyblade from the ground, “I’m going to go into a trance now. After these next few seconds, I won’t be able to hear you. Anything to say?”

“Well it certainly is old.” The Master murmured before shaking his head softly. “But no. I don’t think I do.”

“Very well,” she said, before taking her keyblade in both hands and staring up at the sky. The glow increased in waves, and the wind in the force field- the small one- picked up. She began to tremble slightly- or maybe the more accurate word was vibrate. Yes, that was the right word.

She picked a wooden bowl up from the ground and dipped it into the swirling cauldron. She filled it, then turned to him, her eyes shining like purple suns compared to the more moderate glow on the rest of her. She crossed over to him, then knelt on the side of the majority of the wounds.

She said something in ancient greek- invoking the name of Hecate, then poured some of the boiling liquid onto an inky black patch.

The Master stayed relatively still during the entire process, transfixed in watching her magic unfold. It was certainly a different kind than he was used to seeing in most of the worlds he had been to. However, when the medicine reached the scarring, he gasped out, involuntarily jerking forward as the icy burning liquid enveloped the mass of eyes. Wincing, his main eyes shut tight as his fingers dug into the grassy earth beneath him. His skin hissed loudly, fizzling out a few of the newly formed eyes.

The bowl empty, the Showrunner stood on unsteady feet. He could hear her irregular breaths as she walked, entranced, over to the cauldron, and then back over to him. Unblinking, gasping slightly, she poured more of the potion over the scars.

The Master had barely enough time to recover from the first bowl of treatment before the next one started. At this point he could barely take it anymore. His back arched as he cried out in pain, sobs choking from his throat. Shit. Shit. Was it supposed to hurt this much? He couldn’t even open his main eyes or focus his others so much as check if it was working. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt so much pain- perhaps when he had gotten the scars in the first place.

He hadn’t heard the Showrunner get up, but he heard the sound of the bowl being dipped into more of the potion. The Showrunner said something that either wasn’t words or just didn’t make sense to him.

Then she knelt back down next to him.

He was shaking badly, teeth clattering together like branches in a storm. His breathing was ragged. He couldn’t steady it out, hell, he couldn’t even think. It was just an endless torrent of scorching cold agony.

Shakily, he reached out for her, grasping onto her arm. His voice was desperate and small. “Please.. please tell me- is it working?”

He felt a hand close around his wrist and squeeze slightly. Then she stood, filling the bowl before kneeling back down. He let his wrist go limp in her grasp, body hunching over itself. He felt sick. The pain had rampaged through him to the point of nausea. He heaved a few uneven breaths before straightening himself up once more in preparation. He would get through this damn process- even if it scorched him alive. Anything would be better than his body being taken over.

The process went on for what seemed like forever, burning and freezing away at his skin. After a multiple minute pause where no treatment happened, he managed to open his eyes as the bowl clattered into the bottom of the cauldron.

The Showrunner was shaking like a leaf, her clothes clinging to her skin. She tipped the cauldron over, then peered into it. He saw it was empty.

She turned around to face him, nearly keeling over before righting herself. “Ahh-” She shivered, “Iaah.”

She dismissed her keyblade and promptly collapsed onto the ground, shivering but- thankfully- awake.

The Master was barely conscious, himself. His shaky breathing was barely audible as he lay in a heap. He could still feel the burning radiating throughout his body, though now it was slowly beginning to fade.

The force field around them- the smaller one- flickered and died. So did the fire. He heard the Showrunner move, and when he briefly opened his eyes, he saw that she’d curled into a sort of ball, resting her head on her arm. Gently, he placed his free hand on top of her head and gave it a small pat before closing his eyes again.

Slowly, he began to speak.

“So. How does it look, kiddo?”

He saw her blearily open her eyes, then murmur, “Huh?”

“You know-“ he fumbled for words, gesturing his hand vaguely. “The scars.”

She muttered, “Oh. They’re kinda away mais pas all the way, vous savez? C’est, quoi, les new ones, je pense.”

The Master quietly muttered to himself, piecing together her words in his head until they made sense and gave a relieved sigh. Looking down, he saw that she was correct- Where the fresh scars once infected his body was once more his pearlescent skin and feathers while the older ones remained. “Well shit.” He laughed breathlessly. “That’s gotta be the best result yet. Good job!”

He felt her shiver slightly under his hand. “Mm. And you va trouver- sorry, you allez to ask about ma fille? Paphus?”

He nodded, now catching onto her French/English. “A deals a deal, isn’t it? I’ll figure out where she is. Don’t worry.” He peeked open his eyes, smiling softly down at her. “Nosing around is my specialty.”

She let out a small sob. Her eyes were closed, and she was laying in a ball near his leg. He was gentle as he ran his fingers through the top of her hair- as if she were a small cat. Seemed like his fatherly instincts were swinging back into full force.

“Sorry I can’t help you back like last time.” He admitted. “At least not at this moment… maybe in an hour I can if you’re willing to wait with me until then.”

“Je can’t move anyway,” she murmured. “And Braig’s asleeping.”

“I see. Well, might as well use this time to rest, hm?” The Master nodded, adjusting himself ever so slightly to make it more comfortable for the both of them. “I don’t think anyone will come wandering around here this late anyway… well… no regular human anyway.”

She made a tiny affirmative noise.

“Alright, cool. Cool.”

It was admittedly an oddly casual response given the massively exhausting moment that the two of them had but he couldn’t muster up much else.

Stretching out his wings, he wrapped them around the two of them, providing warmth and a bit of shelter and comfort. “Might as well get some shuteye then.”

She might have said something if not for the fact that she was already asleep.

Noticing this, he gave another small laugh followed by a yawn. “Right. After you I suppose.”

It wasn’t long before his eyes slipped shut, and sleep was soon to follow.

#### Some Worth in Life Chapter 6 [Repair him, resplendent, in every part and whole] ENDS

The Narrator reached into Stanley’s body.

He grasped a thread, a wire. A core component of his code, a fragment of a part of what was Stanley. It was him, nonetheless, but his hands did not tremble as he took his love apart.

He could not shake now. He was restoring. He was healing. He had to be stable.

He pulled it out.

The thread floated in the air, and the Narrator looked at his work, reached in to check, and confirmed what he suspected.

That was the chest done. Now onto the arms.

He takes Stanley’s flannel and removes it fully from the man’s body.

Arms exposed.

Left first, he thinks.

He reached in.

The threads have no meaning on their own. Like a pot inscribed with a poem in a cursive script, and then shattered into shards. All of them are so individual as to be meaningless.

He tugged a thread out.

It feels painful, drawing out these threads, even though it is not harming the Narrator himself.

He reached in.

Running his hand through Stanley’s insides, he knew that he could grasp harder, harsher.

He drew a thread out.

He could rip through his form. He could destroy Stanley, from the inside out. It wouldn’t even take that much effort.

He reached in.

The Narrator is delicate. He will not harm Stanley.

He pulled a thread out.

He will see this to the end.

\*\*\*

The entirety of Stanley’s upper body is done by the middle of the second day.

He sighed and breathed out.

That had been a long burst with no breaks, and he knew that he had to stop soon. But he didn’t want to. But he really, really, should.

He stood up tensely off of the bed and scrawled out a note to the showrunner, and then went out to slip it under her door.

He sighed, returned to Stanley’s room, and sat down in an armchair. Checked his watch, and gave himself an hour to rest.

Then he’d get back to work.

\*\*\*

About 15 minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" The Narrator called.

A pause. Then the door handle turned hesitantly. The door opened slowly. In stepped the Showrunner, in her black cloak and hot pink heels. She was holding the note.

“Hello, Narrator.”

"Showrunner." he said with a bit of a sigh, glancing from her back to Stanley.

She stared at Stanley through the many, many wires. After a moment, she said quietly, “Is he like a circuit board or a tapestry?”

"What do you mean?" he asked. "He's Stanley. What would make him like either of those things?"

“The threads,” She said quietly, “or wires, depending.”

"I mean what qualities. As in– yes, he has those threads. But what about a tapestry are you concerned he is like?"

“It’s not concern,” she stared at Stanley, “Well, I mean, I am concerned. I just.” she tilted her head, then shook it, “Nevermind, I suppose.”

"I'm confused, not– you can go on." The Narrator said, straightening up a bit.

“Just a question, I suppose. I’m fairly familiar with both.” She looked at the threads. “Is everything… okay?”

“This is actually going rather well.” the Narrator said with a bit of a sigh, pinching his brow and pushing his glasses up. “The– the process is meant to pull out the threads. I suspect I’ll be able to finish drawing the whole of them out by the end of tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms, hugging herself slightly, “I see.”

“Is– you look concerned. Is there something I can do to help you in that regard?”

She looked at him sort of sideways, but shook her head. “Same as always. I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about Stanley right now.”

“He’s okay.” the Narrator said firmly. “He’s alright. Or he will be. This is a process. He’s still all there, just… disassembled a bit.”

She nodded, looking at her hand, “Disassembled.”

“Yes. That– that is what I’m doing here. Pulling out his– ah– innards– and then giving them a bit of a clean, fixing any stray parts, touching up a few threads that have degraded… and then putting him back together. And then he’s good!”

“I see.” She paused, “I see.”

The Narrator nodded, sighed and then got up from the chair. He summoned a loose-fitting dress and pulled it on over his bikini, and then conjured a small notepad, which he began to tentatively write in.

The Showrunner looked over at him curiously.

He looked up at her, and continued scrawling out his ideas in cursive, making sure to keep the notepad close to his chest.

The Showrunner turned her attention back to Stanley, staring at the threads.

The Narrator looked between her, and then Stanley, and then sighed.

“Do you have a question? Or rather, what is your question– I can clearly see you’re wondering something .”

She stared at her hand. “I-” She paused, looking up at the ceiling, then back at her hand, “I don’t know. I’m reminded of a number of things. None of them are really relevant.”

“You can still ask.” the Narrator said with a sigh. “Having a conversation would be… nice. I’m taking a bit of a break anyway.”

“Are you familiar with classical mythology?”

“Most of the well-known stuff, yes.”

“I- I’m reminded of the golden fleece. I- I never met Jason, I’m afraid that was quite a bit after my time, but I’ve heard stories of it.” She stared at the threads, opened her mouth to say something, but didn’t continue.

“I– ah, yes. A healing fleece, made of golden wool. I suppose they would bear visual similarities.”

She nodded, “I’m also reminded of Rumplestiltskin, and Ariadne’s thread from Crete.” She paused, “Not relevant, but. You get it.”

“Yes, yes. Golden threads, and all. Well, his threads are golden– well, technically, it’s more yellow than gold– because I made him. And that’s my color.”

He saw her stiffen slightly. She withdrew her hand back into her cloak.

“It’s just… it’s what I work with. Hell, even this body is like that on the inside.”

She nodded, then hugged herself a little tighter.

“I, uh– I’m sorry, that’s probably not something you want to hear. I– it’s just a material, really, it’s… it’s his code made physical so I can better sort through it. I– I could show you mine? No, that’d probably just disturb you more…”

He sighed and pinched his brow.

“I-it’s not about-” She looked at the ground, “It’s-” she shook her head, “I don’t normally think about the logistics of being created. I don’t- day to day-” She tensed, “I don’t think of the fact that I was designed -” She sounded disgusted, “I- augh-” She clenched and unclenched her fists.

“I– if it helps, I– I mean, I don’t know much about your origins. But it’s… it’s just like organs and bones, really. All that… internal bits-and-bobs that keep you running. I highly doubt Stanley normally thinks of it either– this is an abnormal situation.”

She looked over at him, clearly distressed. “Y-yeah.” She looked back at Stanley, then quickly looked away, settling on the floor and then her tablet.

“If there’s– if there’s something I can do to help you out here, just… let me know. What I’m doing with Stanley is being done with the utmost care. He is going to be safe.”

She nodded, “I- I know. I’m fine. Thi-” She cringed, “This is normal. I’m fine. I’m totally fine.”

“You look distressed.” he said plainly. “And again, this whole business with Stanley is abnormal . I’m only handling it this well because I’m a higher being. Oh, and I had around a week or so to come to terms with the situation inside the snowglobe. It’d– if you were upset, that would be appropriate.”

She gave him a sort of look. Then she looked at the opposite wall, “I’m fine,” She said, her voice more steady.

“Right then.” the Narrator muttered, pulling out his notebook and continuing on with his writing for the time being.

She said nothing for a while, staring at her tablet, and eventually said, “I’m- I need to go do something.”

“Alright.” the Narrator called over tiredly, and then sighed, checking his watch. 20 more minutes.

“I-” She looked at him, “I know what it’s like to overwork yourself. I know you’re currently taking a break, but- yeah. Remember to pace yourself. I once ruined a tapestry because I was over-tired and got distracted.”

“That’s not a problem for me.” the Narrator said, a bit defensively. “I– I have the energy to do this. Physically speaking, I can. I– I’m not mortal. I can fix him. I don’t get… distracted. Not like that. Not when it’s him. Yes, I might feel a bit… tired… but that doesn’t mean I’m going to mess up .”

She took a step back away from the bed, and said, “You’re prideful. I get it. But still. Take care, Narrator.” She turned to leave.

“Okay.” the Narrator muttered. “You as well, Showrunner.”

20 minutes later, he was back to work.

He was going to do this. Every moment he spent waiting– resting , like some kind of mortal– was one that Stanley didn’t get to live.

And he needed Stanley to be well.

He undid Stanley’s trousers, reached in to his calf, and grasped a thread.

\*\*\*

By the night of the third day, all of the threads were out.

They floated in the air easily, and the Narrator heaved a sigh of relief as he reached in, felt around, and had no more threads to pull.

He groaned and laid down on the bed next to Stanley, tenderly holding the side of his body and idly touching one of the threads, gently twisting it in his fingers.

He looked at the watch, and with a groan of resignation, conjured a second bed adjacent to Stanley’s.

He laid down, and promptly shut off all of his senses, and set them to reactivate 10 hours later.

He had earned this. He needed this.

The Showrunner had even encouraged it.

He slept.

\*\*\*

On the fourth day– and as a movie played that the Narrator, frustratingly, had not been invited to– he sorted through the threads.

Quite a number of them were alright. The Narrator still had to inspect them, though– and he did decide to dust them all off, getting rid of any natural grime that had built up– but a number of them were intact.

Those, the Narrator recorded. He marked the thread (in Stanley’s files) with a tag confirming that it had been properly inspected and was ready for reinsertion.

By the end of the fourth day, the Narrator estimated that he’d gotten about half of the uncorrupted threads sorted. Good. He’d have to put them back in those same specific clusters that he’d pulled them out, so he couldn’t just put them back in, but he was able to make them mostly intangible, so that they could only be seen if you were really looking for them.

He sighed, and continued sorting through the night.

\*\*\*

By the late morning of the fifth day, all of the threads had been categorized. The ones that were healthy had been made intangible and largely invisible, and by the Narrator’s estimation, there were only around 140 corrupted threads.

That wasn’t so bad. Still… bad. But not… impossible.

He sighed, and began looking over the first one.

22 cords later, and it was mid-afternoon.

He sighed, and pinched his brow. Fuck, this was difficult.

A knock on the door.

“Come in!” the Narrator called hastily, brushing himself off and quickly cleaning his dress as best he could with some minor conjuration.

A moment passed, and the door opened. The Showrunner stepped inside hesitantly. Her cloak was… covered in dirt and bits of grass. Sure, it looked like she’d shaken it off, but…?

Oh.

And Him.

The Narrator scowled somewhat, and got down from the bed, approaching the two of them.

“Hello.” he said tersely. Firmly. This wasn’t exactly his domain – it was still Stanley’s room, and it was still in the Showrunner’s forcefield– but it was his… zone. He was doing work here. He had something to defend here.

“Hello, Narrator.” A moment passed, and she looked up at Xigbar, who was also covered in dirt and grass?

"... Weren't kidding about the spaghettification." Xigbar glanced around the room.

The Narrator stiffened, bit his tongue, and said nothing.

She shot Xigbar a look, “One, that’s not what I said, Two, behave.”

"What? I am behaving. I barely even said anything."

He couldn’t see the look on her face, but he was sure there was one. Then she turned to the Narrator, keeping her head tilted down, and said, “How- How is the progress?” The silent question was ‘Is Stanley still Okay?’

“Well, I’ve sorted out which ones are… alright. All… I believe it was 4,135… of them. Gave some of them a bit of a touchup, you know, seeing as I already had it exposed. And today I’ve managed to get through 22 of the… injured ones.”

“I see. And how many injured ones are there?” She tilted her head under the cloak.

“Oh, uh.. Around 140? I think. I– haven’t kept as much track. But he’s got… around 4,270 normally. Give or take seven or so? So… somewhere from 133 to 142. Yeah.”

“I see.” She stared at Stanley.

"So. When you're done with the whole…" He twirled his hand to gesture at Stanley. "Spaghetti thing,” (she shot him another look) “Is he gonna be more like he was in person, or on tumblr? Because the tumblr Stanley is actually almost cool."

“I don’t quite know what you mean by that… uh, he had a tumblr?”

"Riiiiiiight. You were in the snowglobe." Xigbar gave him some sort of look. It was hard to decipher, but… It was certainly cold. "Almost forgot."

“Just– he– what sort of differences in personality are you talking about?” he said sharply.

“Well-” She said, “I was in BFD fearing for my life for most of it, but from what I was able to overhear,” She looked at Xigbar, then at Stanley, “They were almost getting along. He was more……. More . I think because the will issues can’t be triggered online. Less fearful, more stubborn. From what I understand, that’s closer to his normal.”

“Yes, he– he’s normally quite willful. I– I saw a bit of what he was like when he was… being influenced. That… ah, could you describe that in a… bit more depth? Just so I can… fully understand the situation going on here.”

She looked at Xigbar.

"Is boring an option?"

“What the fuck Xigbar?” The Showrunner bapped him on the arm.

"What? He wasn't even that much fun to mess with. 'S why I stopped."

The Narrator stared at Xigbar, closed his eyes, and conjured a computer to hit him on the head. About 2 feet up. Heavy one, too.

The Showrunner looked at it in horror, and right as it started falling she summoned some kind of weapon- a pink, black and white one, and shoved it out of the way. It crashed onto the floor beside him.

“What the fuck, Narrator?!” If she sounded annoyed at Xigbar, she was furious at him.

“He insulted– you– you messed with him . You can’t just– do that shit. I–”

“We’ve had this talk, Narrator,” The Showrunner said coldly, “And if we hadn’t, you agreed not to use your powers against Xigbar and I.”

“He was mean to Stanley! So I dropped a computer on him. It’s a fair exchange.”

‘It’s not ,” She said, pushing Xigbar back a few feet with her weapon and standing in front of him, “You could hurt him . And besides . You agreed not to use your powers against Xigbar and I.”

“ Fine. ” The Narrator said, turning back around and heading back to Stanley.

He heard her turn to face Xigbar, “And that was uncalled for.”

"Why would you want me to say anything, then. It's pretty obvious I don't like Stanley all that much, and I definitely don't fuckin' like this guy. Doesn't even have a cool bikini."

The Narrator idly muttered to himself, careful to keep it to a tone where he wouldn’t fucking be heard .

He heard her turn away from Xigbar.

The Narrator pointedly did not look up, opting instead to begin inspecting the 23rd thread. This one was severely frayed. Wonderful , that.

The Showrunner said, “In my experience, Stanley with will issues was- he was confused. Hurting. This was before I knew about the will issues.”

“Don’t call them issues.” the Narrator muttered. “It’s more than an issue, it’s corruption. A disability. That’s not just some issue , Showrunner.”

“I of all people know that , Narrator. Don’t correct me on the subject of will.”

“I’m sure you do.” he said quietly. “But you don’t know him .”

He heard a sharp breath. Then, “I- I’ll be back in an hour or so, Narrator. Bye for now. Xigbar, we’re leaving.”

The Narrator gave a short nod to the both of them, and then turned his attention back to the thread. He heard the door close behind him.

Severely frayed. Alright, that meant he had to re-bind the slivers. He could do that. He could.

An hour passed, and 7 more threads were dealt with.

A brisk knock sounded on the door.

“Yes, come in.” The Narrator called over.

The door opened and the Showrunner reentered the room. She closed the door behind her.

“Hello, Narrator.”

“Hello.” he said, with as much bland neutrality as he could manage.

“I apologize for Xigbar’s behavior earlier. That was uncalled for.” She said evenly but genuinely.

“Oh.” he said. He thought for a moment. “Uhm. Thank you. I– I appreciate that. And I…”

He sighed, and then with some stiffness and disgruntlement, continued, “I also… apologize. I was aggressive, and I… should not have done that. Sorry.”

She nodded, “It’s easy to forget in the heat of the moment. And I understand the Parable plays by different rules, regarding injuries.” She looked at her nails.

“Yes, it– yes. I–” the Narrator bit his tongue. “I’ll uphold my deal from now on. No harm is going to… I won’t hurt any other person here. I can do that.”

Inwardly, he knew that he could. He could . It would take self control, it would take precision, but the Narrator could handle that . He would. This was a test, and one the Narrator could win. Yes. That was a reasonable expectation.

“Thank you,” She said. “Now, how is Stanley? Or, do you have any more questions on how he was behaving?”

“I think– I’m still curious about that, but I think that’s a discussion to be had later. He’s… well, he’s as disassembled as he has been. I’ve gotten seven more threads cleaned up since you were last here– those ones were all less harshly damaged. I, uh. I expect he’ll be done two or three days from now. Is that… enough information?” he said, squinting somewhat as he looked at her.

She nodded slightly, bringing her arm back into her cloak.

“Okay.” he said, sighing somewhat and reaching for another thread. Eugh. This one was slimy, with some sort of… corruptive, moldy gunk. Ugh, this one will be… difficult.

“Oh. Yikes,” She said, looking at it.

“Yes.” he muttered, running his hand through the– he was going to think of it as mold, that was easier on his mind. He pulled off as much as he could, letting it float in a small ball off to the side, and then began to go through the rest of the thread with more precision, taking off the entirety of the remaining mold.

She watched him as he worked, seemingly lost in thought.

He finished pulling off the gray-green sludge, and then took a deep breath, and stuck his whole hand into the collected mass. It wasn’t much, but god, the texture was unsettling. He worked it through his fingers, gently kneading it, and closed his eyes to better focus as he pressed his energy into repairing it.

When he removed his hand, The Showrunner said, “That looked very texture.”

The Narrator opened his eyes, grimaced, and checked the color. Good, good it was working. Now it was much closer to a yellowish mud.

“Yes, well, it’s still him.” the Narrator muttered, sticking his hand in again and splaying his fingers to spread it out and further smooth out the bits of damaged code within. “It’s– it’s not something I can discard.”

“I know.” She said.

The Narrator nodded, kneaded the goop one more time, and then carefully began to spread the now-golden sludge back onto the thread it came from, working it into the crevices of the wire and smoothing it such that it became one whole fragment again.

The Showrunner said quietly, “I’m reminded of clay.”

“I suppose.” the Narrator murmured, “Yes, I suppose that’s an apt comparison. At least for threads like that.”

“I…” she shook her head, “Nevermind.”

“I mean, these are just… physical manifestations of an abstract concept so I can better work through the absolute mess that’s been made of his code with precision– and with a reasonable sort of efficiency.” The Narrator stated blandly. “It’s– I could just as easily have it appear another way. Or, well, I could’ve. I think. I’m not actually sure, given that you’re the authority here… hmm.”

She nodded.

“I– do you have a question?”

“Not really. Just- I- I’m reminded of other forms of handicraft I’ve seen previously.” She waved her hand sort of dismissively. Towards herself, not the Narrator.

“Oh, yes. You said you’d made tapestries before, didn’t you?” the Narrator murmured idly, as he pulled over another thread and inspected it. Hmm. Holes. That was… going to require a good bit of energy. And perhaps a cross-check with some older files, for good measure.

She tilted her head slightly, then nodded. He got the sense that wasn’t what she was talking about, though.

“...right.” the Narrator said, and turned back to Stanley’s threads. Hmmm.

He pulled up a visual reference for a backup he’d made… about 5 months ago? It showed enough of the general construction pattern that it would be able to help repair this one. Ugh, holes – that was bad.

“I- I’ve spun thread before, too. I- I know these threads are just a manifestation, but I know it’s harder than it looks to clean them.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you. Do you– I’m sorry, do you– want to– I mean, you can touch them, if you think you’d… have some way to help. Just. Be incredibly careful. And if you start to do something that will hurt him I will. Teleport you away.”

She folded her hands behind her back, “I’m- I’m not going to do anything while Stanley’s asleep. It’s not-” She paused, wincing, “I won’t. I’m only saying, you’re making good progress. I know how tedious work similar to this- at least, visually similar- can be.”

The Narrator blinked. Processed her words, and then… smiled.

“Thank you.” he said, sighing a bit and letting go of the thread he was holding. “I– that’s quite nice to hear, Showrunner. I– this is a lot to deal with. It’s hard work, and it’s… it’s on Stanley, and the fact that this has happened to him at all is of course greatly upsetting, and– I appreciate that. You– you can touch the undamaged threads, just fine, if you want to, though. Those are well secured. And you’re his friend, so.”

She tilted her head appreciatively, but said, “No thank you, Narrator.”

“Very well.” he said, nodding as well, and then sighing, rubbing his eyes somewhat. “I, uh. Do let Xigbar know that I am. Regretful. I don’t particularly want to speak to him in person, but I… still think he ought to know that.”

“I will.”

He nodded his appreciation, and then took the thread in hand again. Closing his eyes, he felt out the holes and carefully started growing the edges together, letting the thread heal itself like a plant reaching out new roots.

She watched him for a few more minutes, then said, “I’m going to go. Farewell, Narrator.”

“And you, Showrunner. Have a good day.”

\*\*\*

On the sixth day, by sunset, he had dealt with 42 more threads, leaving a remaining 67 to still manage. Good. This was good. He was making good progress here.

And then the world outside went purple.

He blinked, checked his sensory inputs, and determined that yes, this was actually happening and yes, this was affecting the world around him

He took a few minutes to make a light protective firewall around Stanley and the incredibly delicate exposed threads, and then conjured a door and stepped into the thick of it.

…and saw the showrunner wielding godly power.

He was instructed to retrieve Sora (from kingdom hearts! He had played that video game, a few years ago, and had largely enjoyed it. Except for some of the boss battles.)

And then he fucked up. Spoke too soon, too much, just… wrong. Again.

He left after that.

Returning to Stanley’s apartment, he decided to wait out the– now literal– storm, and so he sat down in the armchair and kept his eyes trained on the protective barrier he’d made around Stanley. He was not going to let this magic disrupt– or, gods forbid, undo any of his work.

And given the circumstances, he was not too upset when he woke up a few hours later. He was tired, and he was nearly at the end, and by now, the storm had stopped. Good job, effective strategy there– just sleep until it’s over.

He sighed, stood up, and went back to Stanley.

\*\*\*

By the end of the seventh day, he was nearly done.

45 threads repaired. Only 22 to go. He could do this .

As the sun set, and the moon rose, the Narrator worked through the night.

By the morning of the eighth day, he was done sorting them.

He carefully began placing the cluster back in in chunks, grouping and tagging them in Stanley’s files so– gods forbid– if something like this happened again, it would be a much simpler process.

And by the afternoon, the were all inside. He took a deep breath, placed his hand on Stanley chest, and pressed his energy into Stanley, the light that was his power running through every last wire like a complex system of nerves and veins, lighting up his being.

And Stanley’s eyes opened.

He blinked.

Oh, those eyes. Brown like cardboard that’s been dampened by water, but with the slightest hint of sunlight landing in little yellow tinges to his iris.

“Stanley.” the Narrator said, his voice shaking with exhaustion and relief and love, already feeling tears forming in his own– annoyingly human– eyes.

[Narrator.] Stanley signed. He looked down at himself, up at the Narrator, and then his face broke into a smile. He sat up and immediately, tightly hugged the Narrator.

The Narrator felt Stanley’s tears fall upon his neck, and he hugged back. They sat in that embrace for as long as Stanley could stand to, before he pulled away to sign.

[I’m back.] He signed with enthusiasm. [You– you fixed it?]

“Every bit.” The Narrator said tearfully, giving Stanley’s cheek a squeeze. “Do you want to, uhm, put your clothes on? Maybe, ah, go out and celebrate or something?”

Stanley looked down at his body and nodded. [Could you conjure them?]

The Narrator nodded, snapped his fingers, and handed Stanley his standard shirt and pants. Stanley smiled at the sight of them, and the Narrator turned away and crossed over to the other apartment while he dressed.

He knocked on the door.

He heard a clinking sound, and then the door opened. The Showrunner was there, looking a bit tired.

“Hello!” the Narrator said brightly. “He’s awake.”

“Oh!” She said. He saw her eyes widen. They were the same color as the rest of her face from what he could see, “Lovely.”

“Oh, shit? Like, awake awake?" Xigbar said.

“Yes? What– what else would that mean?”

Before Xigbar could reply, the Showrunner said, “Fun! Okay, Xigbar, you stay here.”

“Sounds good to me.” the Narrator said, sighing and turning to head back to Stanley’s apartment. He gave a quick knock and then opened the door.

And Stanley was there. Sitting on the couch. He waved at the two of them.

She clapped her hands once with a clinking noise and bounced a little, “Stanley!! How are you feeling?”

[Oh, uhm. Good! My head’s clearer. No more will shit. Uh, kinda feel a little restless? Like I could go and walk for like. 4 hours. Straight. But other than that, really fucking good!]

He stood up and smiled at her, and then laughed a little. [Do you, uh. Want a hug?]

She nodded, “Yes!! It’s really good to see you!”

He smiled and walked over to her, giving her a tight, warm hug. Not a particularly long one, per say, but still a good hug.

“I- Oh, I’ve missed you,” She said, “And-” her eyes widened, “ So much has happened? Xigbar’s dad is here?”

[What?] Stanley signed, his brow furrowing.

“I know! And he has a weird ass boyfriend in the woods- they’re living in the woods- and- Oh! And I have this!” She summoned the weapon from before, the pink spikey one, “Keyblade! Oh, and I made this orchard thingy we could check out sometime if you wanted,” She said as she dismissed it.

[Okay?] Stanley signed, and then he looked back at the Narrator. [How– how long has it been? A month?]

“Actually, closer to… two weeks. I believe. One of that was just spent waiting in, ah, the snowglobe.”

Stanley’s eyes widened, and he looked at the Showrunner with some sort of… confusion? Not exactly judgemental, more just… perhaps, concerned?

“I- I let him out as soon as we arrived back home,” She said, “But it took a week for Sora to get to us and back. The tunnels, they’re confusing.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

[Good.] Stanley signed emphatically. [Because he is staying with me. You’re not fucking with my boyfriend again.]

“I wasn’t intending to,” she said, “We’ve come to an understanding, I think.” She sounded somewhat uncertain on that last part.

The Narrator looked at her, and then sighed. “Yes, I suppose it’s time for that now, isn’t it? Well, go ahead. I– I’m not going to go back on my word.”

The Showrunner hesitated, then slowly pulled out her tablet, “That’s- not what I was talking about.” She stared at it for a while, then tapped it once. “I turned off necrogenesis,” She said, returning it to her cloak, “The rest can stay with the same caveat as the others.”

The Narrator blinked. “Why?”

She gave him a sort of look, then shook her head slightly, examining her nails. She didn’t answer.

[Okay.] Stanley signed, looking between them. [Are you guys… cool? Or at least. Less bad?]

“We’re… fine.” the Narrator said, a bit nervously.

The Showrunner turned her hand this way and that, looking at it, “Oh, you know.”

[Cool.] Stanley signed. [Right, so. I. I don’t really know what the best thing to do next is? Narry suggested a celebration, but I don’t really know how you’d… celebrate waking up from a bug-induced coma.]

The Showrunner reached a hand into her cloak and pulled out- a button, a yellow color and shaped like a cartoon duck.

[Holy fucking shit.] Stanley signed, his eyes widening. [Oh my gosh. That’s a button. And a duck.]

He could see an ivory-white smile on her face.

“It quacks,” she said, holding it out to him, “And I still have the friendship bracelet, if you want that as well.”

Stanley took the button, pressed it, and grinned emphatically at the quack. He pressed it a few more times, and then set it down on the coffee table.

[I’d love to exchange bracelets! I think I’ve got yours in my drawer.] he signed, and quickly went over to the nightstand drawer and rummaged around for a bit, before pulling out a bracelet that was incredibly pink and adorned with all sorts of little charms.

“Lovely,” she said, walking over to him. She reached into her pocket once again and pulled out a bracelet- various shades of beige, with yellow beads.

The two of them exchanged bracelets, tying them onto each others wrists, and looking over them appreciatively.

[That flower bracelet looks nice!] Stanley signed, after he finished playing with the beads on his bracelet.

“Oh, thank you! I grew it, apparently. Sora- you know about Sora?- Well, he- okay, context, he got a tumblr after I had Xigbar send a note, something something, we made fun of Xigbar’s dad together, he came to get us in BFD, briefly defended me from [nickname redacted] even though I told him not to- He got in front of me! Kid’s 17 and he got in front of me-” She waved it away, “Anyway, we get back, and then I get, Oh, the worst news of my life. And then a keyblade! Which is pretty cool. But it unlocked something, magically? And I sort of lost it? I have very little memory of the event. Xigbar says I ‘razed the earth’. I did not. But an-y-way, The Narrator comes out, Xigbar tells him to get Sora, he gets Sora, Sora calms me down somehow- I remember him saying ‘you’re my friend’ and then I grew the bracelet! It’s actually living flowers, see?” She held her wrist out for him to look, “and then I passed out. And! You won’t believe it- I woke up in my bed, to Xigbar and Sora playing Mario Kart. Like, in a friendly way?? Anyway, I’m totally taking him to Disney Land once this whole thing is over. If you wanted, I could probably hold a front round to smuggle you, and well- The Narrator if you wanted- out of the Parable if you wanted to come with us? A little variety in that time loop of yours?”

Stanley blinked, sat down on the sofa, and just sort of stared at the carpet, trying to parse through… all of that. The Narrator also mentally re-calibrated his thoughts– he had mostly just been in the apartment and had not realized this much had happened.

After a few minutes, Stanley looked up at the Showrunner.

[I… I’ll have to think about that, I think? I’m still… thinking. About all of that. I don’t really know if I understood all of that. But. I… would like to hang out with you? Uh.]

He turned to the Narrator.

[Do you want to go to Disney?]

The Narrator did want to go to Disney, but he also wanted to talk about this a bit more, so he shrugged as noncommittally as possible. “Maybe. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

The Showrunner raised an eyebrow.

[Okay.] Stanley signed, nodding in understanding. [Cool.]

He turned back to the Showrunner. [So, uh. Anything else happen? Is Xigbar still… well, he’s still here, I guess. But uh. Is he doing better? Less of a complete ass?]

“I think so,” She said, tilting her head, “But then, I wouldn’t really know, would I? He was nice to Sora, who’s killed him two times, if that’s anything. Apparently, Mario Kart was Xigbar’s idea, even. Let Sora be player one. That’s something, right?”

[Yeah.] Stanley signed, sighing. [I– I’ll probably talk to him on Tumblr first. I think I’m going to punch him if he says one more snarky fucking comment to my face.]

The Narrator raised a brow encouragingly in Stanley’s general direction.

“Better that than slonking him,” The Showrunner said with a sort of smile.

[The original plan was the other way around.] Stanley signed with a bit of a smirk. [But, yeah. Don’t need him for that at all anymore.]

“I’m glad. I’ve been feeling rather mythological lately. Not like Hera, more like-” She gestured with her hand, “Aegeus on the cliff, seeing the black sail and Say Pleasing himself onto the rocks below.” She paused, “But mythological nonetheless.”

[I– okay? Why have you turned say please into a suicidal phrase? I liked it.]

She waved her hand, “Honestly, I’m not sure how it happened. It still means what it used to mean. I think it happened on a phone call.”

[Okay.]

Stanley sighed and leaned back into the couch. [You, uhm– please tell me you stopped doing human experimentation?]

She blinked. “Yeah, I guess so.”

[Oh! That’s good.]

“Yeah.” She said, looking at her nails, “And I’ve stopped the death matches.” She sort of half-smiled.

[Nice.]

She blinked.

[Like, yay! No more death. You’re, uhm, not going to start them again. Right?]

“Oh, no.” she waved that idea away, “They were an aberration because I wanted Xigbar gone. I no longer want him gone, clearly. Also, Sora would not. Like that.”

[And, so, no more human experimentation either.]

She tilted her head, “ Weeelllllll, ” She did a ‘so-so’ motion with her hand, “There’s, of course, [Name Redacted]. And if you’re going to protest-” She held out her hand-

[No, no I want his shit fucked up. Fucker. His ass gets thrown in the torment nexus.]

She relaxed slightly, “I’m glad you feel that way. I- I fear you don’t know the full extent of it. Just while you’ve been asleep, we’ve come to the realization that he is-” She made a face, “ So. Much. Worse. Than even I thought, Stanley.”

[Oh, shit. Do you– is that something you want to talk about? With me?]

She crossed her arms, hugging herself. “I-  yes. I. Well. Most of it, later. Now- Like,” She leaned in slightly, her voice taking on a tone of gossip, “Xigbar, like totally knew. And he just didn’t tell me. I had to find out from his dad . His cult-ass dad in the woods with his devil-deal boytoy.”

[Oh, you gotta tell me more about that.] Stanley signed. He patted at the couch and looked at the Narrator.

[You guys. Come here. We’re gonna talk shit about Xigbar and also cuddle– in a fun friend way for you, {SCEPTER}, and in a fun boyfriend way for you, Narry, and also, I’m in the middle, so neither of you have to touch each other and get hives or something.]

The Showrunner tensed a small bit. He heard her tap on her leg or something. Clink clink clink.

“I can just… sit.” the Narrator offered. “I’m rather tired, as a matter of fact. It’s been a lot of… it’s been a process, fixing you. I’d like to just… be. With you. For some time.”

“Yes-” She looked at the Narrator almost appreciatively, “You need rest . I saw how hard you were working.”

He nodded, sighed, and then sat down directly next to Stanley on his left, letting his partner lean into him and resting his head on Stanley’s shoulder.

Stanley sighed, and rested his hand on the Narrator’s calf and gave it a loving squeeze.

“I- I’m going to let you rest. I’ll check on my garden in the meantime. Stanley, you have my phone number, yes?”

[Uh… yeah. Xigbar wrote it down for me on some paper. It’s gotta be somewhere in here.]

“That’s good,” she said, “You can text me.” She glanced towards the door.

Stanley nodded.

“Alright,” She said, “Bye, Stanley. And farewell, Narrator.”

The Narrator gave a mumbled sound of appreciation, and nuzzled his head further, blocking out the annoying light. Wait, he could control that.

He waited for the Showrunner to leave, and then carefully dimmed the general light-levels of Stanley’s apartment.

“I’m so glad you’re back.” he murmured. “I missed you. I need you to be okay. I– Stanley, I was worried.”

Stanley wraps his hand around the Narrator’s, and gives a tight squeeze, and then he leans back, further pressing their two bodies together.

And that is enough for the Narrator to close his eyes and fully fall asleep.

#### Some Worth In Life Chapter 7 [Let's talk, whatcha need to say?]

The morning after he’d properly woken up– from the coma. He’d spent a lot of the night scrolling through Tumblr and then falling asleep next to his boyfriend. So it wasn’t the most proper awakening.

Regardless, he was full of energy now, and he decided to text {SCEPTER}. He did genuinely want to hang out with her, especially if she was… upset.

So he did.

\_hey {SCEPTER} its stanley :) i am texting you if you want to hang out we can do that now

\_narry is still sleeping lol i think hell be passed out for the whole day. did he sleep at all??

\_he doesnt exactly need to but if hes using his powers he gets fucky if he doesnt :/

And then he waited for a response as he got dressed. Hmm, a blue flannel sounded nice today.

His phone pinged.

- Hey, Stanley. I’m in my garden, s’outside, in the left hand side of the woods assuming you’re facing away from the arena. Just, like, follow the direction the random trees are pointing. Like, the dirt gouges. :) it will lead you there. Maybe you can also see the stone tower?

\_yeah okay!! im on my way now :D

He headed down out of the apartments, and headed into the forest. Which was… considerably more floral than he last remembered. Lots of black and white flowers. And blue ones. Oh, and a few sunflowers. He liked those.

He made his way into the clearing in quick time, and waved to {SCEPTER} immediately.

“Hey, Stanley!” She said. She was sitting, hood down, next to a pond shaped a bit like a crater. The flowers went up to the very edge of it. Around the edge of the clearing were fruit trees that were probably ready to be picked. On the right side was a massive stone pillar covered in ivy. It looked like it’d been grown from the ground.

{SCEPTER} had a pile of a few different kinds of fruits next to her in the flowers.

[Hi!] Stanley signed, walking over and sitting down across from her. [This is a nice spot!]

She tilted her head, “Thank you. I made it with my keyblade.” She smiled, turning a fruit of some kind over and over in her hands. It was about the size of her palm and a light blue color. It looked to be partially made of petals.

[Oh, that’s a cool fruit. Which one is that again?]

“Oh, this is- I haven’t named it yet. It’s kind of like a blueberry, I guess, but it’s something new. I dreamt it one time.” She offered it to him.

Stanley took it and held it gingerly, turning it over in his hand. He set it down in his lap to sign.

[You made this? Like, created it from nothing and from your imagination?]

“Well, yes, I suppose,” she said, and pointed to a low lying tree, almost a bush, along the edge of the clearing. It was pretty, he thought, but it had massive thorns almost everywhere. Come to think of it, all of the fruit trees did. “I grew it. Came from that one there.” She looked down at the pile, “I’m pretty sure most of these are either mixes or entirely something I made, actually. Not quite sure, though. Can’t really remember creating them.”

[Huh.] Stanley signed approvingly, looking at the rest of the fruits. [That’s… pretty fucking cool.]

“I’m glad you think so. Xigbar and Sora rushed out like ‘No! Stop!’” She picked up another fruit to hold- this one like an apple with pink spirals swirling all over it. “I’m afraid I can’t taste any of them,” She said sort of sadly, “If i’m right, that one-” She nodded towards the one she’d given him, “Should taste like vanilla, maybe. Half-remembered vanilla, perhaps.”

Stanley looked at it, and then carefully took a bite out of the fruit.

Hm.

[Vanilla, but not really all that sweet, which feels a bit weird, because most of the time you have vanilla in sweets, right? But it’s not like vanilla extract. Which I drunk one time because, y’know, it’s edible. But eugh, it’s bitter. Anyhow. That, and also a hint of just… kind of apple? Like, the apple wetness. But not the flavor. And the texture is like a grape.]

She smiled at him, “That’s how it tasted in my dream. I- it’s probably a bit odd because I haven’t tasted anything except swamp sauce and capsaicin in the last 2000 or so years, but you know.”

[I like it pretty well.] Stanley signed. [Can I try another one?]

“Of course!” She said, gesturing to the pile. “There’s a few of every kind here, I think. Though maybe I missed a few,” She looked around at the clearing.

Stanley picked up a fruit with a bright pink peel on the outside, which he took off, to reveal a green fruit segmented into little crescents which tessellated in a beautiful, spiraling manner.

He peeled out a segment and tried it.

[This one is sour, but also pretty sweet. It feels like how I want glowsticks to taste. Oh! Do you think it glows in the dark?]

She tilted her head, “Maybe.” She lifted the fruit she was holding to her mouth and took a bite- it sounded like a cartoonishly crisp apple. “I can taste this one,” she said, then pointed to a duplicate in the pile, “So be careful with it. It’s a sugar bomb.”

Stanley nodded, and chose to select instead a fruit that was remarkably yellow. It was shaped almost like a donut, with a strange webbed stem in the center that could easily be pushed out.

He took a bite, and immediately felt an incredible sensation of deja vu. As a flavor.

Another bite. Huh, the seeds in here were twisting in a kind of weird way. This time, it was like a potato. Crossed with a raspberry. Crossed with a pineapple. Yeah, that was definitely deja vu.

[Tastes like deja vu. Which is potatoes, pineapples, and raspberries.]

“Oh, fascinating,” she said. He sensed an air of sadness around her.

[I mean, you might be able to taste the deja vu, even if you can’t taste all its parts? It’s a pretty overwhelming sensation.]

“Oh-” She smiled kind of sadly, “I think deja vu might be the last thing I need right now. It’s alright.”

Stanley looked at her, and reached out to pat her on the shoulder.

[Do you want to talk about… that now?]

After a moment, she nodded.

[Okay. So, uh. Your ex?]

“Yes. Worse than we thought.” She stared at the fruit in her hand. “I- have I told you I’m a mother? Or, I used to be?”

[Yeah, you mentioned it.] Stanley signed tensely.

“Well. Yeah. I had two daughters. Paphus was my eldest, I had her when I was one or so, and then Metharme, my youngest, when I was three. Paphus, when she was 14, we went on a walk in the woods and met the goddess Artemis. I… I let Paphus join her immortal maiden huntresses- they stay young forever. In retrospect, it was the best choice I’ve ever made, I think.”

Stanley stares at her for a bit, and then signs, with a sort of angry precision he doesn’t typically have.

[You were… one.]

She blinked, “Yes?”

[And you had a child. You– you got pregnant and had a child.]

She nodded, “Yes.” Like she didn’t see the problem with that.

Stanley stared at her, and then immediately went in for a tight hug.

He heard her gasp slightly, and then hug him back. After a moment she rested her head on his shoulder.

He rubbed a gentle circle into her back with his hand, and didn’t let go. Nope. Not fucking letting go, they can just hang out here, together, and be comfy. Because this is somehow just the fucking start of what she wants to say.

Stanley doesn’t need to sign anything right now. He needs to hold onto his fucking friend .

“I-” he heard her say, “Stanley, that’s just background. That’s- I thought that was obvious. Of course I-”

He shook his head, and moved back to sign, but still remained close.

[No, that’s– that’s fucked up. You were one. Mentally one. You– that is what you meant, right? Because I count my age in a weird way too, but– you were a kid , right?]

She stared at the fruit in her hand, “I- I sort of came preloaded with some things. Knowledge of the gods, how to keep house-”

[That’s not… maturity. That isn’t what makes an adult.]

“I- I know, Stanley. I was- i still saw everything for the very first time. I was scared of the dark until well after Paphus was gone,” She said, “I- I still can’t read ancient greek, so. But that’s background. I- I knew all of that. That was my surface level understanding of ‘he sucks’.”

Stanley stared at her, took a moment to look up to the sky and stare deeply into it as he composed himself, and then looked back at {SCEPTER}.

[Okay. Go on.]

“Okay. So. I knew he was bad. I- I mean, admittedly-” she looked at him with uncertainty, “I-” she looked down, “I can’t talk to Xigbar about this part. I tried and he wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t give an inch. I-” She looked up at him, sort of hopefully.

[What is it? I can at least listen.]

“Well, it’s-” She looked back down at her fruit, “My feelings towards him- [Name Redacted], they’re… complicated.”

[Okay. What sort of complicated?]

“I- I hate him, obviously. I’m scared of him. I want to- what did you say?” She looked up at him, “I want to put him in the ‘torment nexus’?”

[Yeah. Tormentatastic]

She smiled slightly, “Yeah. Well. He also. I- using a parallel, I sort of asked Xigbar if he thought, maybe, [Name Redacted] might have cared about me? Don’t answer yet!” she looked up at him, then back down, “I- I was there for sixty years . S-surely, he. I mean, he must’ve , right? I- I have these, these memories, of early on, he’d help me brush my hair, and- and show me how to do things. I- Xigbar wouldn’t give an inch. He was insistent . But.” she looked up at him with nothing but uncertainty, “He-? He can be the worst person ever and deserve to die and… still have cared? A little? Maybe?”

Stanley thought for a good bit, and then nodded slowly.

[I think he probably cared. I just– I don’t know if he saw you as human. I don’t know if he saw me as human. And– whatever that care was, I don’t think it’s the same as… loving an equal. You know, the kind that… actual relationships are built upon. But sixty years? He has to have at least gotten… attached.]

She relaxed, looking up at him thankfully, “So I’m not crazy? I- it’s not some lingering will-issue-driven thought?”

[What? No. Did you think you were crazy ? Like, genuinely?]

“I- I thought something was going on!” She waved her fruit around in her lap a little, “I don’t know about crazy, but. Irrational. Disconnected from reality. Deluded.”

[Oh. That’s… bad. Still bad. You’re– no, you’re not delusional, {SCEPTER}. You’re right. This is a complicated situation, and– at the very least, his stupid Tumblr shows that he’s possessive . And that means– well, possessiveness stems from a desire, right? And obsessive – obsession stems from an interest. I think. I haven’t ever taken psychology.]

She looked at him appreciatively. “I- I’m- yeah. Yeah.” she nodded. “Thank you. I- it’s hard to think of him like- like a monster, you know? I- every time I do, I remember when he’d bring home a new flower, or braid Paphus’s hair, or-.”

[You kicked him in the knee for me. Long as you can do that, you know, when it really counts? It’s okay if your thoughts are… weird. Confusing. Whatever. It’s your mind.]

She gave him half a smile, “If you liked the knee kick, wait until you hear what I did when he snuck up on me in the hallway with two teenagers and a blind Xigbar.”

[Xigbar was blind? Is he still blind? And please tell me how you hurt him. Dick.]

“He snuck up on Xigbar in the kitchen and punched him in his good eye. It swelled shut. It’s better now, I healed him. Anyway, Xigbar shot him in the leg, then. But later in the day, after Sora and Riku showed up to bring Xigbar and I back here, he snuck up on me, yelled out ‘[OMITTED LAYER 2]’, and i- i don’t really know what came over me, but I snatched one of Xigbar’s arrowguns and then pushed him and Sora and Riku into the apartment and locked them in. Then i ran him down like a bull. Hit him with the butt of the arrowgun, though. Life force connection and all that. Then I told him to crawl . Like a worm.”

[Oh, hell yeah. That’s sick.]

She smiled at him, then it faded and was replaced with a sort of ‘Welp!’ expression, “And this was before I knew about the thing Xigbar was hiding from me. I mentioned that yesterday?”

[Yeah, you did. I. Fuck, what was it?]

“ Well. ” She said, her voice taking that gossipy tone she had yesterday, “So- and I’m saying this lightly or else I’ll turn into a tree- I told you about Paphus just now, how she went to the hunters? Well. Metharme did Not Do That. Metharme stayed at home and grew up and got married, and-” She froze, “Shit, I just realized I kind of left this entire detail out. [Name Redacted] was the king of Cyprus. I was a queen during all of this, by the way-”

[You were a fucking queen ? Like. A queen . And you still had to do housework for him.]

She sort of tilted her head and gave a sardonic grin, “Yeah. What a dick, right?”

[Major dick. Okay, so… Metharme.]

“Okay, yeah. Uh. Trigger warning for, like, fucking everything, okay?”

[It’s [name redacted], that… kinda seems to be a given for him. You can go on.]

“I’m gonna tell it like I remember it, and then I’ll tell you how I found out what actually happened, alright? So- here I am, age, like, whatever. 23 plus 3, so 26 I guess. Metharme had gotten married, everything is great! Well one day, she goes missing. And we never find her, ooOOoooOooh~” She wiggled her fingers at him, clearly trying to add levity.

[Yeah, alright.] Stanley said, smiling a little, even though he was not feeling that smiley. He, in fact, wanted to sort of just. Combination hug {SCEPTER} and also torment nexus [name redacted] and also get married to Narry and also see Cesare and play hangman. Just. Only good things. That would make him smiley.

He still smiles, because the attempt was good. Just. Hard to be funny when there’s… y’know. Everything else.

“So,” She said, “I’m a husk of a person back then, so I don’t really question it. I mean, I question it, but what can I do? So I don’t. I just wait until Artemis- the goddess- eventually gives me a brief blessing of will and then I took off in the night. And for a long time, I didn’t really think about it any deeper than ‘she went missing’. But then, I’m like, ‘I wonder if I have any descendants’, so I go to wikipedia and it turns out I have a fuck ton?? I’m talking like, Heracles and shit. He’s my great great fuck off great grandson. On his mother’s side, obviously. Like, I have descendants that are gods, Stanley, because Heracles became a god and then had kids. Like- woah? But- do you see the issue yet? With this picture?”

[Yeah. Cause. Paphus’s an immortal 14 year old. So no kids from her. And, you only had two kids.]

“Yes, exactly. And I’m thinking, ‘these have gotta be descendants of Metharme’. Only I don’t remember her having any kids before she went missing. And when I try to go to her wikipedia page, it just jumps to Beroe’s- that the earliest descendant I could trace, and that’s my great granddaughter. So I’m missing Metharme and her mysterious child. And I’m like, ‘Okay, so it’s not working for me. Maybe it will work for Xigbar’- and I’m like ‘Hey, Xigbar, can you look up Metharme?’ and he’s like ‘Yeah, sure doll’, and I'm like ‘cool’. And then I don’t hear anything back for like two days on the subject.”

[Ohhh no.]

“ Yeeeaaahhhhhh -” she said, “So I’m like, ‘hey bestie, did it work for you?’ and looks at me and is like ‘no’ and I IMMEDIATELY know he’s bullshitting me, he gets this look . And I’m all trying to give him opportunities to backtrack and he doesn’t. So i’m like, ‘Okay, he knows what happened, and it’s bad bad.’ Yeah?”

[Yeah, that’s reasonable. I mean, I don’t think he’d fuck around with you .]

She nodded, “And like- I drop it. I’m like, ‘he’s not gonna tell me’, so I drop it. But now it’s driving me nuts. So I- later that night- I grab two things of Swamp Sauce and down one and I go wander in the woods to yell at the gods. As you do. But I don’t find the gods in the woods, I find Xigbar’s dad .”

[Oh. Is he… bad?]

“He-” She sort of waved her hand, “He’s culty and weird and, you know, a biblically accurate angel, and he forced Xigbar to do his dirty work for 2000 years while he completely ignored him- but he’s not all bad. I’ve learned to tolerate him. For Xigbar.”

[Okay. So does this… yelling at Xigbar’s dad, how’s that go?]

“Well first I was yelling at a thingy in a tree, and then I realized it was Xigbar’s dad. But anyway I yell some shit that I don’t remember because I was trashed on two full flasks of swamp sauce. And then he unblocks me on tumblr as a sign of goodwill and then we have a conversation, and I’m all like ‘ Xigbar is lying to meee’ ” She mimicked a cry, almost mocking herself, “and he’s all like, ‘yeah, he does that’, and then I’m like ‘ My daughter probably got chased by a god and turned into a treeeee’   and he’s all like ‘I’m so sorry’-”

[Wait. Wait. Hold up. Tree? Why-- why would you think she was a tree?]

“I’m from ancient Greece, Stanley,” She tossed the apple-like fruit from hand to hand, “That’s just how it was back then. Sometimes you just turned into a tree. But anyway, so I’m talking to the Xigdad, and I’m all ready to tell him my name because I’m drunk and sad and lonely, but he already knows it, and I’m like, ‘well if you know who I am, do you know what happened to Metharme?’ and bitch goes ‘yes i do ’ and I’m like ‘ say more right now.’   Ready?” She leaned in a bit.

[Yeah.] Stanley signed, straightening up a bit as if to brace for the news.

“ He tells me, that she was- trigger warning for [nickname redacted] shit- Cursed by a goddess to lust after my goddamn ex husband. You know, her father? ”

[Oh no.] he signed. He took a moment to rapidly tap his fingers together, processing this information, and then he signed, very empathetically, [Fuck!]

“Fuck indeed , Stanley!” She said, nodding, her air still that of someone sharing gossip, “Fuck indeed . She goes into his room . And then. Yeah. ”  She said, “And then! And then! She snaps out of it, runs into the woods, and turns into a tree. So I was right about one thing, at least.”

[I still don’t get how… the tree thing is normal. But alright.]

“Sometimes you just feel so bad about yourself that some god takes pity and trees you.” She said.

[Okay. So, uh-- so how do we get. I mean, I. She has to have a kid, yeah?]

She nodded as he signed, “The baby simply exits the tree.”

[What about her original husband? What happened with that guy?]

“I was there for that,” She said, waving her hand, “He ended up challenging Apollo to a thingy and then Mars killed him, like it was his business. Mars ,” She said emphatically, “A roman god. Hello?”

[Yeah, I still don’t… get that. I just-- man, this tree thing must have been really normal. Like, who found her kid? Did he know about how she got cursed? To, uh, lust. Not the tree. I take it the tree was more of a blessing.]

“Y- Okay. Hold on. Back to the story, okay? So Xigdad tells me then and I start wailing, just losing it, and I’m about to cry out for, like, the tree thing to happen to me, yeah? Because I can’t take it. But Xigdad, he comes down and he’s like, ‘Hey, take my coat, you look cold’ so I do, and then he sort of half-carries me back to Xigbar and I konk out on him instantly. Xigbar, not his dad. And I wake up in the morning, blah blah blah, Xigbar and I watch Tangled, blah blah, I ask him, ‘What god cursed Metharme to do that’- and this motherfucker-” She held up her hands in a sort of ‘you’re not gonna believe this’ way- “Stanley, have I told you who my fucking mother is?”

[I don’t… think so. No. I know [nickname redacted] was your dad, kinda, in a weird way, but not your mom.]

“My mother- ” She said, “Who brought me to life, was Aphrodite, okay? Guess who fucking cursed my daughter, Stanley. ”

[Uh. Her.]

“Mmhmm!” She said in a sort of high pitched voice, sounding angry now, “My mother cursed my daughter to fuck my husband! And then turn into a tree! Now, Stanley, it gets worse yet! Are you ready?”

[I. I guess so? How can it get worse?] he signed, cringing a bit.

“The baby, yeah? Name’s Adonis. He is found , by, you guessed it, Aphrodite! And then he grows up, and has a motherfucking kid with- You guessed it! Aphro-motherfucking-dite! ”

[Oh… oh, that’s just… erghhhhhh. She. What, she has to have raised him, right?]

“Ha! As if-” She paused, “Sorry. He’s rubbing off on me. But no! She didn’t raise him, she took him to the fucking underworld to be raised! By Persephone! And then she came back once he was grown, and- augh!” She waved her hands around, disgusted.

[Very gross.] Stanley signed in agreement.

“ An-y-way- ” she said, “That’s all I know so far. About that. There’s only one question left, and I was like ‘Hey Xigbar, do you know this?’ and he went ‘yeah’ and I’m like ‘Should I ask?’ and he went ‘Please no’, so I haven’t yet. It’s just- Where was I during all of this? And it’s like, sure, I don’t want to know, but I need to know!”

[I-- huh. Yeah. I-- I mean, if you need to, then… ask him. Or me! I can also check, right?]

She sighed, “I’m sure you can, Stanley, I do think it would work for you. But-” She sort of waffled, “I want to hear it from Xigbar, if I decide I want to hear it. Finish what he started, you know?”

[Okay. Yeah, I mean. You asked for him to tell you originally. And he lied. You have a right to know about your own fucking daughter.]

“Literally!” She said, “ Thank you! Xigdad said the name thing! I- his names not Xigdad, it’s ‘ThE mAsTeR oF MaStErS’ but I’m not fucking calling him that. So Xigdad it is.”

[Oh yeah that’s really stupid. That’s not a name. That’s like. Two titles pretending to be a name. That are trying too hard.]

“Yeah, no, literally -” she said, “I have an excuse to be going by Showrunner- I mean, 1, it was originally to hide from [name redacted], and 2, I’m not fucking going by [OMMITED LAYER 2]. Oh, and 3, [OMMITED LAYER 2]’s not my name anymore. My keyblade took it-” She summoned her keyblade- it was a giant ornate key that was pink. It had a stripe along the stem that looked like Xigbar’s hair.

[Yeah. I-- I’m not. {SCEPTER} I literally date a guy who is the Narrator. Showrunner is cool. ‘Master of Masters’ is silly.]

“ Thank you! ” She said, “And he only calls himself that because he taught keyblade-ism or whatever to a bunch of people who eventually became masters of keyblade-ism themselves, but that’s like- that's just how it works? Oh, yeah, by the way, I got my keyblade from Xigbar, he said a poem thingy, he’s a keyblade master, he can do that.”

[Can I have one?]

She paused for a moment, looking at hers, “I think so. He’s probably not gonna want to, but like, I can be like, ‘Xigbar, you’re being mean and that hurts my feelings’ and he’ll cave.”

[Cause it just. I don’t necessarily feel like I really have to, but I think it’d be cool, y’know?]

“Oh, yeah, no, definitely. Mine was mostly just for shits and giggles with a side of therapy.”

[Oh, speaking of therapy-- is there anything else you need to like, get out of your system? Any more shit with your ex?]

“ Ummmm, ” She said, tilting her head and thinking. She dismissed her keyblade in a flash of light, “Hm. I’m not sure! That’s mostly what’s been eating me lately. I mean, there’s the whole issue of, like, being reminded of his expectations of me or whatever, but like, the combo of having a keyblade- a manifestation of my heart, and it doesn’t look like a wedding ring?- and Xigbar being, like, a normal fucking person, comparatively, that’s fading a bit. I was actually able to cook without feeling strangled. Made jackets, too.”

[Oh! That’s nice! If you do have stuff you want to talk about, y’know, I’m here.]

She nodded, then was quiet for a little while.

Stanley reached over to hug her again.

She squeezed him back, and then let go. “The Narrator and I vaguely talked things out, by the way.”

He looked at her with some amount of surprise. [You talked?]

“Of course we talked.” she tilted her head, “I had to let him out of the snowglobe, and then I-”

[I didn’t think you’d do it personally. And I-- even if you did, I didn’t think you’d want to be around him. You don’t like him.]

“It’s not that I didn’t like him, Stanley, it’s that I feared him. But after the first time I came to visit you, check in on his progress fixing you, that mostly went away.”

[I mean. Yeah. Like, you can fear him, and he definitely has the capability to do… a lot of shit. But that doesn’t mean he’s just… going to.]

She nodded, “Yeah, well, I didn’t fear him for any eldritch reasons. If that’s the case, I’d be shaking in my boots from Xigdad. No-” She shook her head.

[Oh. The-- creating.]

“Yeah,” she said, “But then, during the talk, he found [name redacted] not only ridiculous, but also Yucky, and then indulged me in a bit of a talk. Oh, and he agreed to some additional nerfs- which I didn’t end up going through with! Aside from Necrogenesis, get that shit outta here- and said he’d listen to my authority, which had a large part in calming me down.”

Stanley nodded approvingly. [That’s good.]

“Yeah.” she said, “he-” she rolled her eyes, “during my little meltdown that made this clearing, he did  kind of show up and tell me I was inconveniencing him ?? Which was rude. And he tried to give Xigbar a concussion or a broken neck or worse , which was SO fucking ruder, like excuse me that’s my goon and boyfriend-” she looked at him “I know. I know. Train Tracks, whatever. It was still rude, he did it right in front of me after he’d agreed not to do that. Tried to drop a big ass computer on his head, must’ve weighed, what, 15 pounds? more?”

Stanley winced slightly and then covered his mouth. To hide the small giggle. He really hoped it worked. Fuck. That would definitely have hurt, but also, kind of funny.

[Yeah.] he signed after a bit. [I, uh. He’s like that.]

She raised an eyebrow at him in a friendly sort of way, “I saw that laugh, Stanley.”

[Look it would be funny. Like a cartoon anvil. Right?]

“Except Xigbar’s not a cartoon.”

[He’s from a video game.]

She held back a giggle, and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Stanley. The name Tetsuya Nomura means nothing to me, and Kingdom Hearts is a place and a concept.”

[{SCEPTER} I had to genuinely believe that for a good bit so. Please stop. Actually.]

She said, “Yeah, okay, Sorry. You should talk to Sora, he’s delightful, and he’s not in denial like Xigbar is. He actually asked for the games so he could play them.”

[Xigbar’s… still in denial.]

“I honestly think it stems from a fear of losing what little control over his life he has. I get that.”

Stanley smirked at that. [Yeah. He definitely was upset when I suggested-- the horror-- that there was nothing he could do. Which, you know. Was genuinely horrifying for him. But honestly . It’s-- that happens . That’s life.]

“Yeah,” she said, “But- uh, nothing he could do about what?”

[About you being gone. For the time being, you know, while we were waiting for me to get summoned.]

She tilted her head, smiling fondly, “Aww, he likes me. Cringe .”

Stanley groaned. [You’re literally dating.]

“I know! I’m half making fun of him because he cannot take a compliment without turning it around. I think he’s scared. It’s kind of exhausting, honestly?”

[{SCEPTER}, he’s not here. Do you. Oh, do you want to bitch about him some more? I’m still really fucking pissed I think I need to like. Do a few things to annoy him.]

She smiled, “Annoy him, huh?”

[Clip a radio out of bounds and make it consistently play a song he hates to annoy him.]

“Hey, careful there. He and I share an apartment,” She said, smiling.

[Okay, well. What’s a song you like, that he doesn’t?]

“Honestly I’m not sure,” she said, “We haven’t really listened to music much. I’ll get back to you on that.”

[Fair enough. I’ll shelf that idea for now. Definitely doing it at some point, though.]

“Um-” She said, “About the compliment thing- lowkey, next time he does it, I kinda wanna just start being like, ‘Oh, me liking you in cringe? I’ll go talk to, uh, Axel then, he seems cool’- and just replace the coworker name. Mess with him. I think it’d be funny. Some of them are dead, but,” She smiled, “You know me.”

Stanley nodded awkwardly. [Yeah, I don’t have the best… relationship advice? I don’t have advice on relationships, period.]

“Not advice, really. Just messing with him. Make him squirm.”

[Oh, well. I definitely encourage fucking with him.]

She nodded, then said, “You really should talk to Sora. We can talk about Xigbar behind his back together.”

[Oooh. Sleepover night?]

“If Sora wanted to, that’d be so fun. We could-” She grinned, “We could play Kingdom Hearts?”

[Wait holy shit. Wait you can summon stuff. What if. Yes to kingdom hearts but also you could summon my game? Gods I wonder what that would even do.]

“Right, because you got pulled in normally,” she said, “What if we load it up and it’s empty?”

[I don’t think that’d… I don’t know? I mean, there’s like-- as I understand it, from my friend-- well, semi-friend-- 432-- there’s an theoretically infinite number of parables. And those are the copies of the video game. So. They’re probably still working. Hm. The Narrator might know?]

“That’d be crazy, though, wouldn’t it?” She smiled. “Uh, we could ask him, I guess.”

[I would like it if my friend and my boyfriend could also be friends.] Stanley signed with a smile.

“Sentences I also say about everyone else I know.” She said jokingly.

[Okay. How about that, then? I try being friends with Xigbar, and you do the same for Narry.]

“I have been trying that,” She said, “I’ve been practicing my utmost diplomacy.”

[Yeah, but I wasn’t there. And-- oh, you tried to be diplomatic?]

She said, “I mean, yeah. That’s generally my first step before being friendly.”

[If you-- yeah. Yeah, but, you see, he’s… him. So he’ll treat diplomacy with diplomacy. And, even beyond that, to get into his emotional core? You have to piss him off a bit. Specific sort of way. Over something he knows is kind of stupid or meaningless in the grand scheme.]

“I could kick his ass at Mario kart?”

[Yeah! Yes, exactly! But don’t insult his skill, he’s… he’s really insecure, honestly. Just do it, and like, still keep playing Mario Kart. Brag about your own skill, but don’t hit down at him.]

“Oh, I know, believe me. I’ve dealt with artist types before,” She said, waving her hand, then froze, “I- I don’t mean that in a-”

[It’s okay.] Stanley signed tensely. [They’re-- yeah. Artist types. In general .]

She nodded, “Yeah. Anyway, I kind of picked up on that during our talks. After the whole computer incident I left him alone for a little while then came back and apologized- for Xigbar. I didn’t do anything wrong there. But next step after that was ‘Oh, I see you’re working so hard, and that takes skill’- you get it.”

Stanley nodded, still a bit apprehensive, but agreeing nonetheless.

She paused- “Is something wrong?”

[Yes. But I don’t really want to-- it’s not-- it’s not something we can fix .]

She tilted her head at him, “Something I said?”

[Yes. But I don’t-- I don’t want to go into it any more.]

She was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “Very well. I- I don’t quite understand what , but very well.” she picked up a fruit that ranged in color from white to blue to orange to red, and nibbled it. Her eyes widened, “Oh! Spice bomb. That , I can taste.”

Stanley nodded, picked up one of the swirled apples, and took an overwhelmingly sugary bite.

#### The New Kid Chapter 1

She’d allowed him to keep the bow. More than that, she’d granted him a boon , a hound, and then let him go. He was grateful.

It’d been a few months alone in the wilderness. He was used to the wilderness, but not used to being alone. Still, what did he expect? This was the best possible outcome. He just wished… I mean 2000 years as a girl had to count for something, right?

He supposed it did count for something- it got him a boon and a bow. And Phylax, the dog he’s been closest to during his time with Artemis. He was beyond grateful.

Now he just needed to find home. ‘Paphos’, you may be asking, ‘Isn’t home, like, super gone? 2000 years is a long time’. You also ask, ‘Did you really just change your name one letter?’.

Answer one was, home wasn’t all gone. His mom was still alive, he knew it. She was- well she didn’t age. 2000 years was a long time, sure, but a manageable one for his mother. He would find her, then things would be okay again.

The answer to the second question was ‘fuck you’.

He was worried about his mom. She wasn’t meant to be out on her own, she couldn’t handle it. Last he checked, she was still afraid of the dark, still wanted to play with them. At first, he hadn’t realized just how twisted the entire situation was. Now though, after 2000 years of thinking about it, he knew she needed his help. He would get her out of wherever she was, find some job, and take care of her. And then he’d murder his father. Both for what he’d done to his mother… and to his baby sister. Yeah. It was going to be slow. But not so slow that it would scare his mom. He could probably just tell her to go in the other room and she wouldn’t even notice what was happening.

Lady Artemis had given him enough money to get a cell phone, which took some time to figure out how to use, but once he did, he was able to locate his mother pretty quickly. Only thing was, it looked like she was being manipulated by someone seriously evil. He would have to take care of that issue, too.

He shook his head. Once he got to his mom, things would be okay. He just needed to get to her.

It was almost the end of May when he finally found her. Or, where she was staying. He stared at the force field rippling in front of his face. ‘White Boy Bracket’. Well. Here goes.

“Ready girl?” He gently scratched Phylax’s head, then picked the (large) dog up in his arms.

He pushed his way into the force field. It held for a moment, then let him in with a crack .

He set Phylax back down (‘good girl!’) and then trekked west, Phylax by his side.

It wasn’t long before he smelled the flowers.

They entered a clearing full of them. They carpeted the entire ground in strange shapes- stars, spirals- he recognised the blues ones as irises and the black and white striped ones as petunias. Black and white stripes. Like the picture of the guy he’d seen with his mom.

He scowled.

“When i find that guy, it’s over for him,” he told Phylax. He’d been telling Phylax a lot of things. But Phylax wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at-

“Oh.” Paphos walked over to the small, square garden. The rest of this place was clearly grown, sure, but in a frenzy. But these small, neat rows were so familiar. Mom…

Paphos knew better than to touch those plants. Most of them were poisonous. Mom must have felt like she was in some danger to be growing these… but of course she wouldn’t be strong enough to use them against the man himself. More likely she’d get herself sick to try to make him pity her. He’d seen it so, so many times.

She wouldn’t need to do that anymore.

“Okay,” he told his dog, “The plan is, we get to the place the other guys are staying, and we lay low until we can get to mom, okay?”

Phylax looked at him like she understood, and maybe she did.

They set off again, walking for about 10 more minutes when they emerged from the treeline to see a cabin. And to his right, a massive sports arena. That’s where he ’d be keeping Paphos’s mom. And the cabin- that’s where the White Boys would be staying.

It had been a long long time since he’d been around men. Yes, he was one, but that was a recent development. This would still be incredibly uncomfortable, at least for a while.

They’d reached the cabin in two minutes flat. There were picnic tables outside of it, and woods on the other end of the force field as well. He imagined they looped.

Steeling himself and adjusting his bow over his shoulder, he knocked three times on the cabin door. He was lost, he would tell them. He was just stuck here, same as them. His name was. Um. Paris. Sure.

The door opened and Paphos was greeted by the spikiest haired teenager he had ever seen. He glanced down. Wearing clown shoes.

#### The New Kid Chapter 2

Paphos sat in the conversation pit, angrily staring at his phone. His mom was hurt, part of her was literally missing. And the guy she was staying with was literally a villain, and the more he looked, the more it looked like he’d made a deal with her father of all people. This was so fucking frustrating.

"You okay?" Clown shoes asked. He hadn't seen his phone, thankfully. "It's not that bad being stuck here once you get used to it."

Paphos looked up at him, scowling- before he realized he needed to be cordial, and besides, his distrust of men was no longer rational because he was one .

“Do you know the Showrunner?” He asked before he could stop himself.

"Huh? Oh, yeah! We're friends." He smiled. "A while back I helped her get out of this other tournament, then there was this thing with her keyblade- and it's only been a couple weeks since I got here!"

“You’re friends,” He said slowly. Then a pause, and, “Do you know that Xigbar guy?”

"Yeah, I know him." Clown shoes nodded. "He used to suck. Like he was the worst . But lately he's actually been… I dunno, good? Not as much of a jerk. He changed some."

Paphos scowled, “I don’t trust him.”

"Yeah, most people around here don't." Clown Shoes nodded. "Even I'm on the fence depending on the day." He paused for a moment. "I don't think he's gonna hurt anyone anymore, though. A while back he killed this one guy in here, but apparently that guy shot the Showrunner… Or, at least he tried to. I guess that can be counted as defense? I dunno. He does care about her a lot, though."

Paphos’s scowl intensified. His hand was gripping his phone so hard it hurt.

"Don't worry, though-" Clown Shoes said quickly. "I doubt that kind of thing will happen again. Even without the whole murder thing, No one seems like they would wanna try to hurt her." He looked like he wanted to say something. Maybe ask something. But he didn't.

“What’s your name?” Paphos asked, looking up at him. He was getting tired of calling him ‘Clown Shoes’ in his head.

"I'm Sora!" He said cheerfully, offering his hand.

It took Paphos a moment to remember what that gesture was, then shook his hand. “I’m Paariss.” he almost said ‘Paphos’,  “Paris.” He forced a small smile.

"Nice to meet you, Paris!" He didn't look like he caught the slip up, at least. Thankfully. "And that's Percy-" He pointed to an older teenager in an orange shirt, "And that's my boyfriend, Riku." He pointed to a tall guy with silver hair looking out the window. "Percy's cool! Riku is a little prickly, but he's a good guy when you get to know him."

Paphos nodded, “I’ve met Percy. I’m not sure if he remembers me, though. It was just in passing.” he scratched Phylax’s head in his lap.

"He might! He seems like he's got a good memory." He glanced at Plylax. "What's your dog's name? I haven't really seen any animals around here at all, except Firestar and Graystripe."

“Her name is Phylax. It means guardian.” He said, “I- I don’t think he’d remember me. I looked a bit different.” He stuck a hand in the pocket of his parka. He wasn’t ready to take it off yet, it was one of the only things they left him with after they-the hunters- bid him adieu.

"Ah, well. Appearances can change, your heart never forgets your friends."

He quirked an eyebrow, “Okay, Socrates.” His voice was friendly, though.

"Who's that?" Sora's face was blank.

Paphos smiled, “A philosopher.” he scratched Phylax’s head, “But I only met Percy, like, once.” he glanced around the room, his gaze falling on-

Bianca. Di Angelo. The huntress who had died on that quest with Percy. She was alive?

"Oh, hey-" Sora had noticed where he was looking. "You two know each other?"

Paphos said, “Better than I know Percy, but I still only knew her for like a week.” He shook his head, perplexed, “We were in the same… club?” he looked at Sora to check understanding, “Uh, group?”

"Oh, okay. That would explain the outfits." Sora nodded. "Why don't you talk to her?"

Paphos seemed to shrink into his seat, and Phylax looked up at him. He said, “I don’t know if she’d want to talk to me. I- I kind of. Got kicked out, kind of. Of the fami-... of the group. N- no boys allowed.”

"Oh. Sorry about that, man." Sora looked like he regretted suggesting it. "... I'll be your friend, if you want."

Paphos looked up at him, softening. “You would?”

Sora perked up again. "Yeah, of course! You seem like a good guy."

Paphos gave half a smile, tilting his head slightly. “Alright.”

Again, Sora looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't. He looked away. "Maybe sometime soon we can all have another movie night, so you can get to know some of the others. A lot of the ones I've met are pretty cool, but some of them suck. But I guess that's how it is with any big group like this."

He nodded, then said, “Yeah. Kind of intimidating, so many new people. Haven’t had to do that for, like, 2000 years.”

He froze.

“Hyperbolically speaking. I just haven’t been around, ah, other guys for a very long time.”

"Understandable. You said where you were was no boys allowed, right? Makes sense you haven't been around any." He leaned a bit closer, lowering his voice. "Between you and me, if you want some privacy, go down to the showers at night. No one wants to use the fire pole when it's dark. Too much of a hassle."

Paphos looked at him appreciatively, “Thanks.”  He paused, then said, “Can you tell me some of what’s going on around here? I haven’t been able to find much out.”

“Well, from what I know, the rounds used to be mostly normal. Anyone who lost got sent to a loser resort. But then Xigbar showed up out of nowhere, and the Showrunner turned it all to a death match to try and kill him? I think that's what happened. Anyway, they started working together at some point. Then more people got smuggled in, and like, everyone got revived- Anyway, rounds are stopped now.

"From what I can tell from her tumblr, it looks like she's ending the death matches now, since she doesn't want Xigbar to leave anymore. They're cool now. When she got stuck in the other tournament, he even asked for my help to rescue her, and he doesn't even like me!" He laughed. "Or, at least he didn't. He seems like he's chilling out a lot lately."

Paphos blinked a few frustrated tears out of his eyes. “She started the death matches when he showed up, but then he got close and she stopped?” He balled his fist in his pocket, worry rising in his chest.

"It looked like it was more of a 'why am I still doing this' moment. Everyone has them."

Paphos didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to process that. “D-do you think he told her to stop?”

"Nah. It doesn't seem like he tells her to do anything, really. More of just like. Encouraging her to do what she wants? A while back, he stopped me and Riku from getting in between her and her ex when she was attacking him. Granted, she did try to lock us – all three of us – in an apartment first. I think so that she could have some kind of closure? Or maybe to protect us. I dunno. Xigbar couldn't see then. Got a crazy black eye from the ex."

Paphos stared at Phylax, “She actually fought back?” Then he realized that wasn’t a normal thing to say about someone you don’t know. Well, too late to salvage that sentence. He would have to let that one hang.

Sora didn't comment on it, thankfully. "Yeah, grabbed one of Xigbar's arrowguns and charged him. I didn't get to see all of it, got shoved back into the apartment, so I don't have the whole story, but she didn't even give him a chance to do anything. It was on sight. Xigbar was like 'Let her do this'," He did a (presumably) bad Xigbar impression, “and then the Showrunner was like 'you don't let me do anything, Xigbar!' And then he shoved me and Riku back into the apartment. He did stay out there himself, though. Just in case things went bad, I guess."

He was quiet for a little bit, thinking. Then he did some mental math- metaphorically- in his head on whether or not he could trust Sora. He’d known him for all of two minutes, but he’d met his type before. Hm.

He looked up at Sora, “Can you keep a secret?”

Sora nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly snapped it shut again with a sheepish smile.

Paphos kind of laughed, then it faded. He said, “Um, the Showrunner, she’s kind of my, uh,” He looked around, then lowered his voice, “she’s kind of my mom. I mean, she’s all the way my mom. I don’t know why I said kind of. I- I’m worried. For her. I-”

"I thought you two looked alike," Sora hummed. "She went a little magic hurricane crazy the other day, but I think she's good now. She seems to have a lot of fun sparring with Xigbar now that she has a keyblade- I'm thinking maybe sometime I might offer to help her train with it."

He blinked, “She has magic? Since when?”

"Did she use to not?" Sora tilted his head. "She's had magic like, this whole time. Or, at least as long as I've been here."

Paphos furrowed his brow, “No, she didn’t. Not before she let me go, at least. She wasn’t even made with a full personality and free will, let alone magic . She was practically a-” He gestured, “A cardboard cut out of a mom, or, like, a drawing of one.” He scratched Phylax thoughtfully, “This is all so weird. She wasn’t even a person before, and now she’s fighting back and summoning hurricanes?? Last I checked she could barely even hold a conversation.”

"She's a lot different now, then," said Sora thoughtfully. "She's really nice, but at the same time, she's a total- I don't normally swear, but I feel like this works- She's a total badass."

Paphos squinted, sort of confused. He thought of the mom he remembered- absolutely willess, running every decision by his father, only taking a break from her Tasks when he was away, and only then because she wanted to play. The closest thing to ‘badass’ she’d ever done in his experience is when she’d swatted his father’s hand away from Paphos and got in between them one of the times his father had flown into a rage. And even then, she was absolutely quailing.

It wasn’t long after that that she’d allowed him to become a hunter. He wasn’t even completely sure she’d known what she was doing- that is, until he saw the post she’d made. But he still wasn’t sure she knew why she’d done it.

He knew. Even if she didn’t, he knew.

“That’s the first time anyone’s said that about her,” Paphos said dryly.

"Well, it's true. You should've seen her during the other tournament, or that one time everyone thought she and Xigbar were fighting For Real – she said they were just getting silly and dramatic with training, and it checks out – she was super cool. You've got a really strong mom, Paris."

“Paphos,” he said quietly, “But don’t tell anyone else that.”

"She had a secret name, too," he said, nodding. "Except now it's not her name anymore. She said she gave it up completely."

He looked up at him, “What, to get free will? Or just recreationally.”

"Neither, I think. I think she was just ready to lose it. After all, that's not who she is anymore."

Paphos couldn’t completely conceal his worry. Not who she is anymore. Was she still his mom, then? He wasn’t sure he could take being rejected by another family, not now.

He looked at Sora, then at Phylax, “D- do you think she misses me? Like has she talked about me at all?”

"She's posted about you on her blog before. I think she does. Miss you, I mean." Sora smiled gently. "If you want, I can take you to her apartment. I'm sure the Kinsmen will let us through – they like me."

He didn’t know what ‘Kinsmen’ were, but decided to ignore it.

“We could do that,” he said quietly.

"Okay! Just let me know when you're ready to go." He stood up. "I'm gonna tell Riku where we're going. Not why, just where. Dropped off the face of the world enough times that he gets worried if I don't keep him updated."

He nodded, “Alright.”

#### The New Kid Chapter 3

“So they just live in the arena?” Paphos tilted his head. He, Sora, and Phylax were walking across the grass (avoiding the random trees upturned on the ground) on their way to the arena. He imagined them with, like, a tent in the field, but he knew that couldn’t be right. He felt a pang in his chest at the thought of a tent. He remembered the one he’d lived in for the last 2000 years, and how- under penalty of death- he would never see it again.

"Nah, they've got an apartment over it. Apparently Xigbar used to live in the cabin with everyone else, but when they found out he was working with her, he got kicked out and started living there instead." Sora put his arms behind his head as he walked. "It's a nice place, though."

“With her? Like, together?” The idea made him uncomfortable. He wanted his mom to have her own space, away from fucking Disney Villains.

"Yeah, seems like it. There's another apartment there, but I don't know who lives in it. Never seen anyone go in or out, but to be fair, I've only been over here three times."

“Thrice. Can I ask why?”

"Well, once because Xigbar wanted to ask for my help to go rescue her, and he wanted to talk somewhere we wouldn't be overheard. Then, after they were both taken to the other tournament to get this magic torch to go find them and bring them back. And then there was the other day- She fainted after the whole magic hurricane thing, so we brought her back and put her to bed."

“I see,” he said. It was hot outside, but he still hadn’t taken off the parka.

"Then we played Mario Kart," Sora finished.

He wasn’t quite sure what Mario Kart was. Living in the woods for 2000 years will do that to you, he supposed. “What is that?”

"Racing video game. Xigbar let me be player 1, but he didn't tell me until way later."

“Video game,” He said slowly, unsure of what that meant, either.

"Yeah- Apparently I'm from one? But I dunno, I think it's just a weird record. If I was from a video game, I wouldn't be here , y'know?"

He blinked, “I… I see.” Which was a lie.

Phylax suddenly growled. Instinctively, Paphos drew his bow, “What is it?”

He looked around, eyes landing on a man about 30 yards away. “H-hold on, girl, we- don’t do that anymore. Behave. It’s just some guy.”

The man looked at them a bit nervously, gave a short wave, and then continued walking in a direction that was still generally towards Paphos. Heading to the cabin, presumably.

“Who are you?” Paphos called out, stopping.

The man looked back, sighed, and then walked closer. When he was about 4 yards away, he stopped, and began to move his hands. In ASL.

[S-T-A-N-L-E-Y]

“Oh!” Paphos said, “You’re friends with my mom.”

[Yeah. Are you the Tumblr person? Paphos and aros?]

Paphos nodded, putting his bow back over his shoulder, “Thank you for trying to help me. No one else did. I appreciate that.”

[Oh, you’re welcome! Yeah, Xigbar’s kind of a dick. I do think your mom would like to see you, though. Like, a lot. I have a passcode to the apartments, we could go now.]

“That’s where Sora and I were headed,” Paphos said.

[Oh! You’re Sora.]

Stanley stopped, and looked at Sora.

[Does he know ASL?]

“Not sure. I guess not,” He said, when Sora didn’t answer, “Sora, he said, ‘Oh, you’re Sora!’ and then said, ‘Does he know ASL.’”

"Oh- Uh, no, sorry," he said sheepishly. "But yeah, I'm Sora! Nice to meet you."

Stanley waved at Sora as a manner of greeting.

[I guess he has a passcode, then?]

“Do you have a passcode, Sora? Or, you said the kinsmen just like you?” Paphos relayed.

"Yeah, they just let me in last time I went in alone. I'm friends with this one- Kendall."

[Oh! Me too!]

“‘Oh! Him too!’” Paphos said.

"Yeah, he's such a nice guy. I like him." He laughed a bit. "Riku looked a little jealous, but he knows he's my favorite person ever."

[Oh, I understand. Speaking of, I was heading over to the cabin to see my friend Cesare. If there’s not anything else you guys need, I’m gonna go.]

Paphos relayed that message to Sora.

"Oh, hey- You're coming from the apartments, right? Is the Showrunner home?" Sora asked.

He nodded an affirmative and gave a thumbs up.

Paphos felt nervous, but said, “Very well. We should go.”

"Yeah, we're burning daylight. Nice to meet you!" Sora grinned.

Stanley nodded at Sora, and then waved a goodbye to the both of them.

Paphos nodded, and they set off.

“See, Phylax? It’s okay,” He said, though the dog was picking up on his nervousness. It wasn’t about Stanley, though, Stanley was fine.

They were getting close to the arena- it was a large, looming structure that he supposed was a modern sports arena. He’d never been inside of one, though.

“What’s a kinsman?” Paphos asked Sora as they came up to the door.

"They're her guards. But some of them work in the food court? They just go where she tells them, I guess." He shrugged.

Paphos nodded. It made sense. Well, most of it, “Food court? What is that?” he imagined, rather whimsically, either some kind of food-jury, or barring that, a food-palace with food-noblemen. He knew neither of these were accurate, though.

"It's a bunch of restaurants smooshed together. Haven't gotten a chance to try any myself, but I heard the barbeque place is good." Sora reached out and knocked on the glass door.

A man appeared in a suit of armor, like, a medieval suit of armor, only polished and shining. There was a blue tuft of, well, something in the helmet.

Phylax growled, fur rising.

“No, no, it’s okay.” He hooked his hand through her collar, ready to pull her back.

"Hiya, Kendall!" Sora said cheerfully.

“Hi Sora! How’s it going?”

"It's good! Just got a new guy in- He'd like to talk to the Showrunner, if that's okay with you."

“Well, if he’s your friend, I’m sure he’s trustworthy! Go ahead!”

"Thanks, Kendall! We'll hang out soon, yeah?"

“Sure thing!”

Paphos managed a hesitant half smile, and sort of pulled Phylax in between him and Sora. He inched past Kendall, not wanting to cause an incident, or worse, hurt Phylax’s teeth.

They started walking down the hall- Paphos saw a massive scratch running along the side of the wall.

"Why does she keep growling, if you don't mind me asking?" Sora asked.

“Well, she used to be one of Lady Artemis’s hounds. Artemis is a goddess,” Paphos explained, “A maiden goddess. I mentioned that the club I was in was ‘no boys allowed’? The club was actually the Hunters of Artemis. We’re-” He paused, his smile failing, “I mean, they’re. A group of pretty much immortal young girls- nine to sixteen, usually, in age- you join and then you don’t age and never get sick, you only die if you’re killed, normally. In exchange, you swear off romance in general but especially the company of men forever.”

Paphos paused, “That works pretty well until, you know, you wake up one day with a certain realization.” He was quiet for a moment, “So, yeah, Phylax growls at men because she’s not used to them, at all .”

"Would she attack if you didn't calm her down?"

“She reads my body language, so only if I looked really scared. Artemis’s hounds aren’t normally meant to attack, they’re meant to alert Artemis and the rest of us- them - to the guy's presence so we can attack. I mean, they . Or, usually, Artemis takes care of it. No man is supposed to see her and live.” Paphos crossed his arms, hugging himself a little.

"Even if the guy didn't mean to?" He looked a little nervous.

“I- allow me to rephrase. No man is allowed to Witness her and live. Percy’s seen her, it’s fine-” He waved his hand, “But if you run into her while she’s bathing, sorry, you’re screwed. Unless you’re Siproites- Lady Artemis granted her the reverse of the boon she granted me. Sip looked at her accidentally, but rather than kill her, she just turned her into a woman and she joined the club.”

"I'd way rather be turned into a woman instead of dying," Sora mumbled. "Maybe Kairi would let me borrow clothes. She's got cute outfits."

Paphos smiled, “Well, don’t worry. Avoiding that fate isn’t difficult. Simply don’t sneak up on women bathing in the woods.”

"Oh!" Sora laughed. "Yeah, no, I'm good on that. That's weird and creepy."

“And you’d be surprised how often it happens,” Paphos said, “There was this guy- and I was there for this- this guy snuck up all creepy and, like, stared - So Lady Artemis turned him into a deer. His hounds ended up chasing after him,” he grinned a little wickedly, “That didn’t end very well for him. But he should’ve tried not, like, doing that.”

"Eesh. Yeah, it costs 0 munny to not be gross and creepy." Sora made a face. "Why stare? Either just leave, or apologize and leave. Either way, stop looking."

“No literally,” Paphos nodded, “That’s what Sip did.”

They reached a staircase, “Up this way?” He asked.

"Oh, uh- Yeah. Third floor." Sora nodded. "Come on, I bet she'll be really excited to see you."

He tilted his head as they started to climb, “You’re, like, sure she’s different? I- my entire life…”

"Yeah. She's nothing like, uh… How'd you phrase it? A cardboard cutout? She's a full person now, even if she's not technically human."

He nodded, a bit uncertain. “Um, what’s she like? Personality-wise? If you know her well enough to say?”

"She's really nice! Seems pretty headstrong and stubborn, too. And tough. But also silly." Sora said. "She's got a good heart."

Paphos was quiet for a moment. Those were ways he’d been described, too. But they did not sound like his mom.

But he said, “Alright. It’ll be interesting to meet her.” Because he’d never met her. Not really.

"Hey! I have an idea." Sora grinned, almost mischievously. "What if you hang out a few steps back, so when I knock and she opens the door I can be like 'hey Showie you should come out for a second' and she'll be like 'okay Sora my friend Sora!' And then BOOM! Paphos appears!"

Paphos laughed slightly, “Alright.” He thought Sora had done a pretty good impression of his mom- [X] my [relation] [X] was something he’d used to hear very often.

"Great!" He paused for a second. "You think jazz hands would be too much? Or would that be good?"

He laughed, “I think some levity is needed.”

"Jazz hands it is." He grinned again. "You excited? It's been forever since you've seen her, right?"

“Yeah, 2000 years, give or take,” he said, “I’m just. Not sure about Mr. Eyepatch up there.” He said ‘eyepatch’ (derogatory).

"Eh, he'll be fine. He won't do anything she doesn't want him to." Sora laughed. "She's always telling him to behave, and then he does ."

He sort of half smiled, “Well as long as he listens to her. I imagine it’s a nice change, for as long as I was at home, she was getting steamrolled. Whatever personality she did have was, like,” He punched down at the air, then did an impression of his father, “‘No, stop that!’, you know? It’s just strange to think she found that with an actual, like, disney villain.”

"Yeah, it's like he's always asking her opinion. It's weird, but like a nice weird- as long as I've known him, he never cared about what anyone else had to say. But with her, it's different, I guess." He paused. "Why are you calling him a disney villain, though?" Sora tilted his head. "Out of the movies everyone in the cabin showed me that are worlds I've been to, he was only really in two, but he didn't really do anything. Just said some weird, cryptic junk and ran away."

Paphos kind of scowled- just slightly, and not at Sora. He said, “I don’t like him. Therefore.”

"Okay, I guess." Sora shrugged. "I will say, though- He's a lot better than he used to be. Maybe it's because he's not Xehanort's goon anymore."

“Xehanort?” He couldn’t place the name as they came to the stairs up to the third floor. They were getting close.

"Real bad guy," Sora explained. "But he's gone now, so no need to worry about him anymore."

“I see.” he adjusted his bow, “And he was working for him? So he is evil.”

"He said it was just to get Xehanort's keyblade. Apparently he was promised it. From what I can tell, not even Xigbar liked that guy. Said he was just… how did he phrase it- 'putting up with his nonsense' until then."

The first thing that came to his mind was the idea that Xigbar was just ‘putting up with’ his mother’s ‘nonsense’. But that was entirely uncharitable. So instead he just sighed. He didn’t want to hear that Xigbar was good, he wanted to hear that Xigbar kicked puppies and ran an orphan factory in his downtime. That way, Paphos could kick his ass and get his mom out of there.

As they came to the top of the stairs, Sora grinned excitedly. "Okay, you stay here. I'm gonna go knock!" Without waiting for an answer, he jogged down the hall and knocked on one of the doors.

Paphos and Phylax both listened carefully. He could hear some kind of… clinking noise… and then the door opened-

“Oh! Hello, Sora!”

It was his mom. His heart felt like someone was squeezing it. It was definitely her voice, but she sounded different in English.

"Hi, Showie!" Sora was all but bouncing on his toes. "Are you busy? I have a surprise for you!"

“Well, Xigbar and I are preparing for Lex’s tournament tomorrow, but I have time!”

Her intonation was the same as he remembered. His eyes burned. Paphos had always had this thing- he didn’t miss people while they were gone, but as soon as they were there again-

He felt a hot tear slip down his cheek.

"Great! 'S right out here in the hall-" Sora beckoned with one hand, stepping back a couple paces towards Paphos.

He heard the clinking noise again- those must be her footsteps, then- his hands shook- stop crying , Paphos, you’re 2000 years old!

Sora dropped to one knee, throwing his arms into the air and doing the previously mentioned jazz hands, as if to frame him. "TA-DAAAA!"

His cue. Okay, go! Okay. Go! Paphos!

Phylax bit the sleeve of his parka and dragged him into the light of the hallway-

His mom let out a startled shriek at the same time he choked out, “ Mom?”

She reached a hand out- and ivory white hand- she was all ivory- her hair was way shorter, and uneven, and she was wearing this black cloak, and-

Someone barreled out of the apartment behind her. A man with long… stripey hair. Xigbar.

"Shit- Doll? You okay? What happened?"

She didn’t answer, instead touching Paphos on the shoulder and then pulling him into a hug. She was cold, but that was nice, given that it was 90 degrees out and he was stubbornly wearing a parka.

He sobbed.

"Everything’s okay, Xigbar," Sora said, smiling. "Better than okay, really." His words made Xigbar stop for a second, actually take the scene in. Recognition flashed on his face.

"You're… You're the kid."

Phylax growled. Yeah, exactly, Phylax. Get his ass. Not literally, not yet.

Instead of answering, he glared daggers at Xigbar over his mom’s shoulder.

"... Yeahp, definitely the kid."

He pulled back just enough so his mouth wasn’t buried in the cloak. He wanted to say some cutting remark, but it came out as a strangled sob, and he smacked his head back into his mom’s shoulder, which hurt .

His mom put a hand in his hair and shushed him gently.

“You’re okay,” she said quietly, “You’re home now, okay?”

He let out a cry, melting into her. He heard Phylax’s feet padding down the hall, towards where Xigbar had been standing-

He managed to look up- Xigbar was gone . He put his hands on his mom’s shoulders pushing away slightly, trying to collect himself- he choked out a sob, took a breath-

As Phylax padded into the apartment, hackles raised, Paphos gasped out, “ COWARD! ”

His mom said, “Paph, no-”

He heard growling in the apartment-

"SHIT-" There was a clattering sound, like something was dropped.

"Hang on, wait!" So Sora was in there, too.

“ Paph-” His mom’s voice carried a warning, “You come with me, but behave . Call off your dog-” She put her hand on his shoulder and steered him inside of the apartment.

Xigbar was. On. the ceiling? Laying on the ceiling? Sora was too- Xigbar had one arm flung out in front of him, keeping him up there or protecting him or something-

Phylax’s mottled black fur was standing on end, her icy blue eyes staring into Xigbar’s soul. If he had one.

A low growl sounded from Phylax’s throat.

“Paph, call her off.” His mom said firmly.

Paphos stared into Xigbar’s soul. If he had one.

"I was literally just getting water!" He sounded scared. Good.

“Get it from somewhere else!” Paphos snarled. “Go away!”

“Okay, stop- ” His mom scolded him- scolded him? Since when was she capable of anger?

He stared at her like she’d fallen out of the sky.

“What’s her name?” She asked him.

“Phylax,” he answered automatically.

“Call Phylax off. I will not tolerate Xigbar getting mauled. Calm her down and you two can talk this out like human people, okay?” her voice left no room for argument, which was strange.

He stared at her.

"Please? Your dog's fuckin' scary, kid."

“You don’t get to call me kid!” He shouted, indignant.

His mom snapped her fingers in front of his face, and he blinked, jerking back slightly, “Paphos. Call her off. You can talk this out on the floor. ”

He was not used to this tone, especially not from her .

But he said, “ Fine. ” And motioned with his hand. Phylax looked at him like he was crazy, but stopped growling and returned to his side.

"See? I told you she's a good girl." Sora said.

"Yeah, a good girl that looked like she wanted to rip my face off."

Slowly, hesitantly, Xigbar and Sora lowered to the ground. Xigbar looked like he was ready to jump back up there at the drop of a hat.

Paphos tilted his head, voice full of venom, “She’s trained to go after untrustworthy men.”

"Okay, remind me not to get water around her, then," Xigbar said, hands up.

“Don’t fucking patronize me,” he spat, “ You know damn well that’s not the fucking issue.”

"Look, ki- Paphos . I'm not trying to pull any shit. I'm not like him."

“As if I believe that!” he snarled.

"Then what can I do to prove it to you?"

He thought quickly- nothing, obviously, but he could use this chance to get something-

But he was coming up blank.

“Y- you can’t get me into that tournament?” He said, voice still venomous. “I don't want her alone with him.”

"I can't." Xigbar shook his head. "I can only get myself into other tournaments, and I still don't entirely know how. But I can guarantee she won't be alone with him. We're going there to kill him."

He was shaking with rage, tears still in his eyes. Phylax was getting hyper again, picking up on his emotions. His mom’s hand was still on his shoulder- she was taller than he remembered.

He clenched his fists, but couldn’t get any words out.

"I know what he did, you know. No way in hell I'm letting him near her without him staring down the barrel of a gun."

“You-” he hated him. He hated every fucking stripe on that goddamn head, “You don’t. ”

"Maybe not all of it, but I get the jist. I just regret not being able to put him down sooner."

A few tears slipped down his face. “You’re evil.” he said, admittedly a weak response.

"Maybe," he hummed. "But I'm not like that ."

He was sweating. He needed to take off the coat. He didn’t want to take off the coat.

“W-why are you even here ?” He said, admittedly also a weak response. He sounded like a child. He supposed he was one.

Xigbar was silent for a moment. "... Because she wants me to be." He shrugged. "That's it, really. She wants me to be here, so I'm staying with her."

Paphos glared at him, “ Fuck. You. ” He took a breath, “How am I supposed to counter that?”

"I dunno, say you don't want me here, or something?" He gave a lopsided grin. Asshole . "It's pretty clear you don't, after all."

Paphos wanted to throw up on him. Which sounded weird, but he felt sick .

His mom’s voice was quiet next to him, “World’s biggest adjustment, right?”

He looked at her, “What?”

There was that nick in her ear. “Tell me what happened? How’d you get back here, dear? Who granted you that boon?”

She was disarming him. It was working. “Lady Artemis.” he didn’t want to think about this. Stop asking.

“I’m glad it was her,” she said softly, “I was worried.”

He knew what she meant. “No,” he said, now pointedly refusing to look at Xigbar, “Nothing like that.”

“You know,” She said, glancing at Xigbar then back at him, “Braig here-” she nodded at Xigbar, “offered to ask after you for me, before the revelations about my past started happening.”

He crossed his arms.

“He also helped me find out what happened with…” she trailed off. He knew what she meant.

He looked at the floor.

"I'm really not a bad guy. Not like that." His voice was soft.

Phylax nuzzled his hand. Paphos scowled. Oh, he fucking hated when this happened. He wanted his anger to be justified, but the foundation it was built on was crumbling. It bubbled up in his chest with nowhere to go.

“W-who can i be mad at?!” he demanded. Point him like a gun, damn it!

"That depends, I guess. What are you really angry about?"

“What am I angry about?” he snapped. He didn’t know. He knew. He didn’t know. He knew. He wouldn't say it.

Xigbar was quiet again. Eventually, he nodded at Paphos' bow. "... It's nice. You shoot?"

Paphos laughed in his face. What a dumb fucking question. “Does a disciple of the goddess of archery shoot.”

"That was mostly rhetorical- Anyway." He sucked his teeth, like he was trying to figure out what to say. "Do you want to get some target practice in, or something? It might help."

This did not help. He was disarming him again. Paphos did not want disarmed, he wanted pointed like a gun.

He squeezed his hands into fists. Again.

He looked at his mom. Not for permission, but for someone to be mad at. And from the look in her eyes, she understood that, but instead of answering, she nodded back at Xigbar. He scowled.

“ Fine. ”

Then he looked back at his mom.

“Yeah, Paph, I don’t know who to be mad at.” she said, “I’ve kind of been bouncing off of everyone who’s snuck into the arena, but annoyingly they’ve all turned out to be at least kind of okay. Then I conceptually went after some other guy but it was confirmed on tumblr that he turned out to be kind of okay. Infuriating, I know.” She looked at him with half a smile.

“What- how-” He searched for the words, “You look calm though. Why.”

She grinned, shifting a bit, reminding him immensely of the time she’d brought home a pet dog with a little bow on its head, “ Well~” She said, like she had wonderful news. But he knew. It was not wonderful news. “ Someone helped give me an outlet by helping me summon a cool magical weapon .”

"You want me to give him one, too?" Xigbar blinked. "I mean. I'm not opposed , I just don't wanna get hit in the face. And he looks like he still wants to hit me in the face."

His mom looked at Xigbar like that wasn’t the response she wanted, but he appreciated it.

“ Scared? ” He said mockingly.

"Eh, I've seen tougher looking pipsqueaks." He waved a hand nonchalantly. "Just prefer not to risk the eye. Only got one, after all."

“That sounds like a you problem,” Paphos said.

"... Wow. You really are your mom's kid." He said, chuckling a bit. "You two talk exactly the same."

"Yeah, you really do," Sora agreed.

“Wow, it’s almost like she raised me or something,” He said, directed at Xigbar. “Do you shoot?” Yes, a subject change. If he didn’t run with it that was his fault.

"Yeah, actually." Purple crossbows just… Appeared in his hands. "Usually arrowguns, but sometimes-" The crossbows (arrowguns?) twirled in his hands, connecting and reshaping into a longbow. "I have been known to do more traditional archery. Don't get to use this very often, but I'm still halfway decent. Definitely a lot better when they're separated, though."

“I’m a better shot than you,” he said with certainty, and also as a challenge. If he didn’t pick up on that, that was his fault.

"Oh yeah?" There was that stupid grin again. "You wanna bet?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mom smile.

He crossed his arms, “ You wanna bet?”

"Alright, alright, if we're doing this, we gotta hash out some terms, yeah?" He was taking the bait.

“Like what?” Paphos wasn’t angry anymore. He was still pretending to be, though. He was going to pretend to be for as long as physically possible.

"The specifics of the challenge, for starters. And of course, what we're bettin' on." He grinned. "I don't make bets I can't win, kiddo. 'S why I never went up against Luxord on poker night."

“You said, like that makes sense.” he paused, thinking. “You know, it’s almost like I just got kicked out of my family, really, of 2000 years, left with nothing but a bow and enough money for a cell phone- and I’m not giving you my bow or my cellphone.” he tilted his head, “So I have no idea what you want from me, a wayward 14 year old. So, hmm- how about, if I win, you suck, and if you win, you still suck for taking the win over a child.” There was half a grin on his face. If Xigbar took that personally, that was his problem.

Xigbar burst out laughing. Good. "Bragging rights! I like it." He paused for a second. "Guess if I win, they'd be braiging rights ."

That got a laugh from Paphos’s mom. It also got a groan from Sora.

"Puns are only funny when I make them, Xigbar." Sora said, frowning like Xigbar had just kicked his firstborn.

Phylax let out a whine. He looked at her, “What?”

Whine. Snorf. She tilted her head.

“What?” he asked again, “Use your words.”

BOOF.

Sora grinned. "She's such a good girl!"

Paphos smiled lopsidedly, “She’s annoyed, I keep pulling her back.” he paused, glancing at his mom, then at Xigbar, then back at his mom, “There any game in the woods?”

“We can certainly put some there,” his mom said.

He glanced at Xigbar. Offer to hunt with them, Xigbar. Do it. Coward.

"Y'know, I haven't shot at a moving target in a while. Could be fun." Yesssss. "Not usually one to hunt for sport, but we can always bring them back."

"... Dude, you have the weirdest moral compass," Sora mumbled.

Paphos looked at Xigbar like he was crazy, “I… one, me neither, but I also need to eat to live, so. And two, what? ”

"Kid, we have groceries here. I can just make you food. Also- Y'know. Magic." He did little finger wigglies. Like sparkles.

“Coward.” Paphos said, deadpan. “Detached from your place on the food chain. That’s embarrassing for you, really.”

"Sorry I'm not a venison guy, I guess." He shrugged. "Also, have you ever tried to shoot a good bolognese? It just gets sauce everywhere. It's not pretty."

He blinked. He supposed that was some kind of food. He also supposed that was some kind of joke, one he was going to take pride in not laughing at.

"... Okay. Yeah. I'm gonna cook for you at some point. No escapin' it, kiddo."

He took a breath, tilting his head, “Hold on. Different subject. Hold on.” He squinted at Xigbar, then glanced at Phylax, “What do you think? Hm?”

Phylax trotted over to Xigbar.

He looked nervous. Very nervous.

"Heyyyyyyy… you? Dog."

Phylax sniffed him. For a while.

"... Please don't maul me."

Phylax seemed satisfied, and trotted back over to Paphos, being sure to whack Xigbar with her tail as she turned. Phylax sat directly in front of Paphos, staring significantly at Xigbar.

“Yeah, right?” he said to Phylax, “I thought so.”

"... What? That some sort of like. Doggy vibe check or something?"

“Are you a demigod?” He asked. For some reason, his mom snorted.

"Seriously? How many people are gonna ask me this?" He shook his head, holding his temples with one hand. "I don't know. Apparently my dad just found me in the woods, so. Who the hell knows where I came from."

“You’re giving off Janus ener-” Before he could finish, his mother was cackling . He turned to her, “Mom?”

"That's what she keeps saying! I don't even know that much about gods, Roman or otherwise."

Well, that was dumb. He crossed his arms. “You should put some effort into learning, if you intend to be around here for any length of time. It’ll become relevant sooner or later. Probably sooner.”

"Totally would, but this one ," He pointed at Paphos's mom, "told me not to. Any mythology research I do has to come from her, in the form of storytime." He shrugged. "Not that I mind. I like hearing her talk about stuff. Just haven't really had a lot of opportunities for it lately."

His mom spoke up, holding back laughter, “Braig, you… like me? That’s kinda, like… cringe .”

"Who said anything about liking you ?" He grinned, obviously very much not meaning it . "Thought I was just your goon ."

Paphos glanced at Sora. He made a face, nodding back at him.

"All the time," he mouthed.

He sort of scoffed. He got the feeling he would be spending quite a lot of time around Sora, which he didn’t mind.

"What?" Xigbar laughed, looking between him and Sora. "Come on, you two wanna talk shit, say it with your chest!"

Paphos tilted his head, his tone challenging. “Umm. No. ”

"Coward."

Paphos barked out a laugh, “Yeah, okay, grandpa.”

"Pipsqueak." Xigbar crossed his arms and grinned.

“Insulting a child!” Paphos gasped.

"Insulting a disabled old man ," he countered, hand over his heart, draping himself against the wall dramatically.

“Ins-” he began, but his mom cut him off.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, giving Paphos’s shoulder a squeeze, “You two good now?”

"I still think there's a challenge that needs to be answered, but yeah. I think so." He looked at Paphos questioningly.

“Umm…” He tilted his head, “Hold on, question.” He turned to his mom, “I found this clearing, and in the clearing there was a garden.”

“Mmhmm?” She nodded.

“Why are you growing rue if he’s not awful to you?” He stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Recreationally,” She said, “A sort of nostalgia thing. Got some silphium, too.”

He gave her a look, “Nostalgia? For rue? ”

“Oh, you know,” she said, though he did not know. She waved it away, “Anyway, that your one hang up? Not a fan of my garden?”

Paphos crossed his arms and looked away.

"What's rue for?" Sora asked.

Paphos said, “It’s a flower, if you eat enough of it you get really sick. Makes your body focus on more essential functions, if that makes sense. Directs all energy to maintaining what you have, so there's none left to. Build anything new.”

"... Oh." He nodded, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Anyway,” his mom said, “Just the garden?”

Paphos didn’t reply in a ‘yes >:(‘ sort of way. Then, “You said you’ve been bouncing your anger towards people who’ve snuck in. Who all is here?”

"I was the main target for a while," Xigbar said, raising a hand.

“And after that calmed down, I wasn’t really mad for a while. Then his dad showed up.” his mom tilted her head.

"Oh, yeah. He's hanging out in the woods somewhere." Xigbar shrugged. "Not entirely sure where, but I don't know the woods that well anyway."

"Wait, your dad?" Sora asked.

"Yeah. Master of Masters? You were making fun of him on tumblr."

" That's your DAD???"

"Had to get the theatrics from somewhere , kiddo," Xigbar snickered.

“Anyway, that worked pretty well as a target for my anger until I ran into him in the woods one night. Helped me fill in the blanks of some fuzzy memories, let me borrow his coat.”

"Yeah, do you know how weird that was? It felt like you were like. Wearing his skin or some shit. Super weird to go and reach for your hand and end up brushing against coat leather."

“Whatever,” she said, “Then I didn’t interact much with him until he offered to go talk to Janus. Asked him to ask Artemis or Apollo where you were,” she smiled at him, “But you kind of beat him to the punch. Still, though, saw him last night.” She nodded to the left to indicate ‘last night’ on an invisible timeline, “Healed him a bit with the Medea potion, went into a trance. You know. Anyway, he actually gave me the coat again, but I woke up before Xigbar did, so.” She glanced at him, “Spared you that psychological trauma.”

"Wait, what?" He blinked. "When was that ? You didn't go anywhere-"

“It was after you went to sleep,” she said, “You were konked by the time I agreed to heal him.”

"Why heal him?" Sora asked, tilting his head in confusion. "I thought he sucked."

"Watch it, kid," Xigbar said warningly.

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” she said vaguely, “He’s also the only other parent in the force field. Anyway, I agreed to heal him in exchange for him asking about Paph. Obviously, this resolved itself before he got the chance.”

"Oh, yeah. He knows gods, or whatever." Xigbar shook his head. "I know I haven't seen him in forever – actually, about the same amount of time you've been gone, Paphos – but it still weirds me out how many random connections the guy has."

Paphos tilted his head, “It’s normal to know gods?” It wasn’t a question, more like ‘why don’t you?’

"Yeah, not where I come from," he replied. "The closest to any gods we had in Daybreak Town was Kingdom Hearts."

Paphos blinked. “The book series?”

"... The what."

#### Xigbar Has Daddy Issues

"Hey, Master?" Xigbar called out, wandering through the woods. "You out here?" He was finally ready to have that talk. Hopefully things could improve between them with it.

The woods were quiet save for the slight rustle of leaves in the light breeze. A few beats passed before there was an answer from behind the man. It nearly made him jump out of his skin.

“Hey kiddo, good to see you face to face again.” Came the voice from a dark robed figure, “though… your face has changed from last we’ve seen each other. The sentiment still remains though.”

The figure paused in front of Xigbar, arms frozen as if they were to move in to embrace him but decided against it. It cleared its throat. “That’s your newest vessel huh? Looks good on you.”

"Ah, you think? This one's… Yeah. I like this one." He didn't quite frown , but… He was sure his face reflected how awkward he felt. "Think it's my favorite so far."

“Well- I’m glad you’re happy with it- that’s all that matters, right?” While the Master’s face was hidden, his voice reflected a sort of softness to him. He took another step towards Xigbar. “In fact it seems like you’re happy in general for the most part.”

"Well…" He paused, then smiled slightly. "Yeah. I guess I am. A lot more than I used to be, at least." Subconsciously, he laced his hands together in front of him. Bit of a reflex when talking to his dad.

“Ahhh good, good.” The Master’s hood nodded. It was barely visible but it was turned ever so slightly- a sign of broken eye contact; A man keeping his distance, unsure of how to approach.

Xigbar fell silent for a minute. He didn't really know what to say. It was weird, finally being around him again. It'd been so long… He was basically a completely different person now.

"... It is nice- Seeing you again, I mean," he said, finally breaking the silence.

The Master seemed to instantly perk up. “ Oh? ” He said, cocking his head, “well- it’s exciting to see you again too- the good kind of exciting of course!” He inched a little bit closer. “I mean, of course I knew it would be a long time but in practice it was… well…” he trailed off for a moment before finally picking up again, tone barely above a whisper, “well it felt almost infinite.”

"Yeah," He agreed quietly. "Long time to be alone."

Xigbar shook his head and looked at him. "So, were you just off doing your own thing, then? I thought I had to summon you, or something."

“Oh you know.” The master crossed his arms against his chest, leaning back on his heels before rocking forward to his toes and then back to his feet flatly on the ground, “I’ve mostly just been finishing up preparation. I was planning on contacting you very soon given the general completion of your role- butttt then all this tournament stuff happened and since my eye wasn’t out to see it, it caught me completely by surprise.”

"Caught me by surprise, too." Xigbar shrugged. "I wasn't even supposed to be here, but apparently with all that election fraud stuff, I get drawn into tournaments when it happens." He waved one hand almost dismissively. "No idea why. Maybe it's something with that crown I got from Lex."

“Could be.” The Master shrugged, almost absentmindedly. “But in the end I guess it doesn’t really matter . We both ended up in the same place.”

"Still very 'ends justify the means', huh?" Still so weird. Luxu was all but unrecognizable, yet the Master was still basically the same he'd always been. "You haven't changed at all."

“Well… you know what they say. Time changes all things… but in retrospect I guess I really haven’t much have I?” Even though the Master’s eyes weren’t visible to xigbar, it was obvious that he was staring intently into him. “But you sure have.”

"Not lately. But… Yeah. Living a million different lives does that to a guy, I guess." He shrugged, like it didn't really matter much to him. It did, of course. It was something that weighed on his mind a lot. It had ever since even before all the bodysnatching. "It was bound to happen."

“I understand. That makes sense.” The Master nodded. “Must have been tough. But hey. Looks like you got through it…” he paused almost as soon as he said that, seeming to instantly regret it. “But uh- yes is there anything specific on your mind? Anything on your chest that you need to talk about first? Anything you need to ask?”

"There was , but… I dunno now." He laughed slightly. "I guess maybe I just wanted to see you face to, uh… hood."

The Master again nodded quietly, thinking for a second. “Let’s find somewhere to sit and talk about this then. That might be better than standing around awkwardly in some path in the woods.”

"Food court, maybe?" Xigbar suggested. "No one really goes there but the Kins, and from what I can tell, they don't talk much. Not unless they're spoken to first, at least."

The Master made a face under his hood- while it wouldn’t have been obvious to most people, Xigbar knew him well enough to tell. “I would still prefer somewhere more private .”

"Well, can't go to the apartment right now. Showie's having a moment with her kid. Absolute riot , that one." He shrugged. "So… Unless you've got an idea, I got nothin'."

“Well I did mention the orchard-“ the Master leaned towards Xigbar. “you just happened to run into me before they got there- I just don’t happen to recall if there were any real places to sit. I s uppose we could sit on the ground.”

"Go up on top of the stone pillar thing. Be all dramatic. You ever go on top of the ones in the Keyblade Graveyard? I know you've been there." Xigbar tossed his hair (loose) over his shoulder. "I'd say it's a nice view, but… It's actually pretty boring. Nothing going on there. Just dust."

“Well- that doesn’t really matter to me since it’s just a place to sit.” The Master cocked his head, his hood shifting. “ Buttt if it really matters that much to you then we don’t have to.”

"Eh, not really." Xigbar waved a hand dismissively. "Just letting my thoughts get away from me a bit. We can go there. Don't think anyone else does, and we'd be able to hear them coming if they do."

The master clapped his hands together with a flourish. It was very. Him. “AH! Good bet. And hey! If you still want to go to the food court afterwards, we can pick something up from there.”

"Yeah, okay. That works." He nodded. "The wings are good. You tried 'em yet?"

“I tried the ribs but I never got to the wings yet-“ The Master responded as he began to walk towards the orchard, stretching a bit. “It’s a shame, I know.”

"Just stay away from the real spicy ones. Showie does not fuck around with spice." Xigbar hooked his thumbs in his pockets as he walked. "I tried one once- Didn't end well. Didn't end well at all . Don't think she'll ever let me live it down."

“So you still can’t handle spice then.” The Master giggled. “You’ve had all this time.”

"Hey!" He half snapped, with no real bite. "It's not my fault she eats ghost peppers like they're pepperoncinis. She's insane."

The Master paused for a moment, just enough to be close enough to Xigbar to give him a gentle nudge in the ribs. “Never stopped you.”

"Yeah, well. Look who I was raised by." Xigbar gave him a sideway glance and a lopsided grin. "Just feel the need to surround myself with crazies."

“Nothing wrong with that.” the Master shrugged, “it makes life more interesting. Don’tcha think?”

  "Ha, I think my life is interesting enough with or without." His thoughts wandered through the past couple lives he'd lived- Namely, the whole mess with Baldr, and all the shit he'd done in the background for Xehanort so that he could finally get his hands on that damn keyblade again. It had been a lot. This was the closest he'd come to a break in a long time, and he was still exhausted. Maybe soon enough he'd get a real break. Take a vacation. Maybe get wasted on a beach somewhere, who knows.

“Eh, you say that but I feel like we both know differently.”

 Stopping at the clearing, the Master turned to look at his apprentice and gestured to the space.

  “Alright. We’re here. Claim your seat.”

 Huh. He hadn't been here since the whole… magic hurricane incident. Now that he was actually able to see it, and not just focus on trying to calm down his girlfriend before she ended up burning up from the inside out. It was nice here. A lot more… what was the word? Fixed up, he supposed. Not quite what he was looking for, but it was close enough. The point got across.

 He ended up sitting with his back against the stone tower. The ivy on it was a nice touch. And, if he looked closely, he could see all the flowers at the top, particularly the ones that reminded Showie of him.

 "So… Weird question. One I never asked when you gave me the role."

“Oh??” The Master tilted his head in curiosity as he took a seat across from him, “Go ahead. shoot.”

"It's about the whole eye thing. So do you see it all in real time, or is it just, like, visions? Like… in a pinch, could you use the keyblade as a gross mirror?" Xigbar summoned the keyblade and turned it towards The Master. "Like, do you see yourself now?"

The Master let out a laugh and reached out his hand, patting the weapon. “Boy . Sure been a while since I’ve seen this bad boy in person. Not as dinged up as I was expecting.” he tilted his head up, making what Xigbar was sure was eye contact. “It’s kinda like a looking glass into time. If I decide to use my ability with it right now I could theoretically use it at any given moment in which it’s in use. So yes, I would be able to see me right now. Not a half bad view if I do say so myself.”

  "Yeah, a faceless hood. Sure that's gorgeous," Xigbar replied dryly. He was still a little miffed everyone was getting to see his dad's face except him. But… It was nice getting a real answer about something out of him. And even more, actually being able to understand what the hell The Master was saying for once. "Don't know why you were expecting it to be dinged up, though. I made sure it got taken care of."

“ You made sure it was taken care of. But you can’t always be sure about the others, I'm afraid. Though, I do deeply appreciate the care.”

 "You really think I would've let someone mistreat it? I ain't exactly opposed to murder. Haven't been for a long time." Dismissing the keyblade, he put his arms behind his head and got more comfortable. "Wouldn't have been too hard to take back, 'specially since it already knows me."

“Mmmm I suppose that's true.” The Master said, leaning back. “But that’s enough of that. We both know why we came out here. Lets chat. Actually chat. ” He motioned his hand towards Xigbar. “Go on. Let out those thoughts of yours. I want you to be able to go first.”

"Well…" He paused. "It's a lot easier to bitch at you over the internet, for one." Open with a joke. Keep things light. Who needs emotional vulnerability, especially in front of the father you haven't seen in literal millennia?

The Master didn’t seem to find that as funny. Rather his voice took on a rather flat tone. “I’ve noticed.”

Damn it.

"Honestly… A lot of things I said I didn't actually mean. Think I was just angry." He was, admittedly, still a little angry about it all. But at the same time… It wasn't as prevalent. Not even remotely. It had just sort of deflated. Like a balloon. "Not really anymore, though."

“ Well you could be a little less mean about it. ” The Master huffed under his hood. Obviously, it was still a sore subject.

"Right. Sorry. I'm not doing it anymore, that's over now. Not seriously, at least." He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Promise any kind of cyberbullying I do here on out is at least half joking."

The Master let out a little grumble and waved his hand. “Fine. But if I get upset then you gotta lay off. Believe it or not, I have feelings too.”

"Alright, alright. I don't wanna get blocked again. I do actually like having you around. Shocking, I know." He looked up at the forcefield, not wanting to make eye contact. "... I do mean that, by the way. I, uh. I missed you." His voice dropped to a mumble.

It was quiet for a few moments before the Master spoke, his voice gentle. “I missed you too. I’m sorry it had to be so long.”

"You did warn me." Xigbar shrugged, like it was no big deal. Like it hadn't been on his mind constantly since the day he turned 19. "Could've done with a couple warnings here and there, but no real harm done, I guess. Not like you're still gone."

“Right…” the Master murmured before clearing his throat, “ and it’s not like I’ll be heading out again either. I’ll be staying here for good this time. Like it or not.”

" Really? " Oh. No. Too much emotion there. Tone it down. Can't let him know you're excited to have him back in your life, Xigbar. God forbid you be vulnerable even a little bit.

Xigbar coughed, trying to recover from that. "I-I mean. You, uh. You caught me by surprise. That's what that was." Not the most subtle lie, but it worked. Better than just flat out saying it.

“Pretty much yeah. At most it will be a few errands here and there but they should only take a few days tops. Not gonna be a double  millennia long wait like before. I’m not about to put you through that.”

"Oh." Something in him twisted. He wouldn't be alone again. Of course, there was Showie, but he knew she could do better than him. Way better. There was no guarantee she'd be with him forever.

This was different. This was guaranteed.

Yet again there was silence. The Master shifted silently, resting his hood against his hand as if deep in thought. Finally he broke the silence. “Before we started walking, you mentioned me showing you my face.”

"Are you surprised?" He looked back to the Master, only to realize how blurry his vision had gotten. He ground the heel of his hand into his eye for a second as he continued. "I've been trying to catch a peek since I was a kid. This isn't exactly a new curiosity."

“I know. It must not be easy to go your entire life without actually really seeing me.” the Master sighed. “But it is for your own good, believe it or not. No one just walks around with their hood obscuring their face twenty four seven for no good reason. And I do have my reasons. Which… I’m sure you’re also curious about, right?”

"You know I am." He stared blankly for a second. "Y'know, for a good few years back there I was convinced the hood was your face. At least until I saw myself in the mirror with mine up."

“I’m sure that would have made things easier for you if that were the case.” The Master replied. “But as I said there are complications. Ones that need to be gone about carefully. One wrong assumption and it could end up bad for you. It’s. Complicated.” The master shook his head. “Jeez. I guess there’s no real easy way to explain it. But it can cause you harm if I’m careless.”

"And that means?" Xigbar raised an eyebrow. Right back to the answers that don't make any sense. Ah, well. It isn't like The Master could just run off without giving him an answer. Showie was fine seeing him. He can't be that different.

“Well… I know that you’ve pieced together that I’m not human. But there are beings out there that aren’t meant for humans to look at for any length of time.” The Master stretched a bit, repositioning himself. The gaze from his hood was elsewhere- somewhere past Xigbar. “You still a horror fan? You know those tales about eldritch unknowable entities? Ones that humans can and will go mad from seeing unless they’re equipped to? It’s something like that.”

"Are you Cthulhu. You have to tell me if you're Cthulhu."

The Master gasped in mock offense, “ Heavens no- I’m so much prettier than that guy. And he reeks of fish guts. Ew.”

"Sounds like you know 'im," Xigbar commented, a crooked smile starting to cross his face.

“Acquaintance. But you get the picture.” He waved his hand dismissively. “ Anyhow, I just don’t want to risk you falling into madness. Can you blame a dad?”

"So, if you're an eldritch horror," Xigbar said slowly, like he was processing it, "then why are you shaped like a person? I mean you're tall , but you're not that tall. I've met taller."

“ Okay, ow . There are plenty out there that are human sized, you know.” The Master crossed his arms, seemingly pouting. “But I’m not exactly an eldritch horror. Just something similar. More like- let’s say eldritch divine. Humans have grown keen on calling us angels.”

"You're… an angel." He blinked, skeptical. " What ."

“What do you mean ‘what!?’ ” The Master exclaimed, “I feel like that’s pretty cut and dry! What more needs more of an explanation?! ”

"I mean… I've caught glimpses of your silhouette under your hood before. You looked like a normal guy. Sorry if I find it hard to believe the whole 'angel' thing." He raised an eyebrow.

“ Wow, okay, way to put us in a box. ” The Master raised his hands in exasperation. “You think we all look like flaming eye wheels don’t you? The nerve.”

"Hey, I'm just sayi-"

“ And even if I was an ophanim, they can still choose a human form, you know! ”

"Okay! Okay! I get the picture!" He put his hands up in surrender. "Really touched a nerve there, huh?"

“ A nerve? No, no. You touched several. But I’m willing to let it slide due to unknowing ignorance.” The supposed angel sighed. “Yes, I’m a different type. A more humanoid type, which is why I can pass as a human in this coat. As I mentioned before, angels can take on a human form… usually. I well…” he leaned back with a sigh. “I can’t do that anymore. Which is one of the few reasons why I wear this. That, and the darkness of course. Keeping up?”

"Yeah, I'm keeping up." He got a very strong flashback to every time Showie went on some kind of tangent. The two were more similar than either would admit. "So even angels aren't above darkness, huh?"

The Master seemed to tense under the hood before nodding. “Yeah. It sucks. Big time. Can cause a lot of issues if we’re not careful. Seeing as we’re light based entities.”

He was starting to actually get the picture now. The explanation, as skeptical as he was about it, did actually explain a lot.

"So, then… That explains all the eyes, I guess." After all, all the depictions he'd seen of angels had a shitload of eyes.

“Believe me I have more than I know what to do with.” The being mumbled half to himself. “ But yeah . Glad it’s making sense to you.”

"'S that why you keep slappin' 'em on every keyblade you see? … Can I have one? Replace this ol' thing?" He joked, pointing a thumb at this eyepatch.

“Pfftttt I doubt that would help much.” The Master chuckled. “I’d still be able to see through it and I can’t see you wanting that.”

"Ugh, yeah, nah. Hard pass. … No offense, I just don't think you need to see any of the shit I get into." He chuckled. "Don't need you that disappointed in me."

“Believe me the feeling is mutual.” The master reached out to pat his shoulder a few times. He let it rest there for a few seconds awkwardly and then leaned back again into his previous position, clearing his throat. “Soooo- you got any more questions? Explanations? Within reason, of course.”

"Can… Can I see your face? Just for a minute. I'll leave you alone after that." He meant it, too. Curiosity could be sated. Finally get this… However old he was now itch out of his brain.

The Master stared at him in disbelief. “ What? The insanity risk is a real one. I don’t…” he sighed and reached into his hood, assumingly pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen- Xigbar. I really don’t like the thought of that.”

"You yourself said I'm not human, right? Just 'human enough'? I'll be fine- Showie saw, and she's fine, right?" Hopefully he had a point.

The Master shook his head, removing his hand and tapping his fingers against his knee. “The thing is- is that I don’t know if that’s enough to prevent that mind of yours from breaking. The Showrunner was okay because of what I assume is her entire background.”

"Heart and mind are, in the grand scheme of things, especially in the case of all the bodysnatching, essentially the same thing, right? So this vessel being human shouldn't be an issue. We don't know what I really am, right? So… Who's to say I can't handle it? Especially prepared?"

“You really want to see my face that badly, huh?” The Master asked quietly.

"... It would be nice to be able to put a face to that voice after all this time," he replied.

The Master contemplated this for a while and sighed, lowering his head in defeat. “Alright. Alright. I’ll let you see my face for a few moments. BUT-“ he straightened up, pointing a finger into Xigbar’s chest, “at the first ittyist bittiest sign of your brain turning into goo, the hoods going back on. Capiche?”

"Understood." Xigbar grinned. He couldn't help it. It had taken his entire , very long life to get to this point. "If I feel any kind of Swiss cheese brain, I'm closing my eye."

“Good deal. If you can manage.”

The Master brought his hand back to his lap and took a deep breath. And then, with great hesitation, he reached up and removed his hood. The face and hair underneath were of a matching pearlescent color. Long locks hung down and framed his face, covering the area of his left eye- which seemed to have some sort of inky dark coloration underneath. The coloration stretched down past the left side of his neck, and it seemed to all be covered in eyes similar to the one on the keyblade he had passed down to xigbar. The face itself was human-like but was very obviously not. The mouth stretched wider than a human’s just enough for it to be slightly uncanny. The main eye that was visible was also similar to the others- blue and catlike in nature but also somehow more defined. On his head were perched two wing-like things-presumably ears along with multiple feathers in his hair adorned with the same eye.

"... Huh. No wonder the forcefield let you in." He cracked a small grin. "Puttin' new meaning to the phrase white boy."

“ HEY!” The angel snapped, revealing a mouth of… insanely sharp teeth. “ All this time and that’s the only thing you have to say? Are you kidding me?! ”

He burst out laughing. "What, would you rather I go all 'BLARGH, NO, MY EYE…'" He dramatically flopped on the ground, covering his eye with one hand and reaching towards the sky with the other. He peeked through his fingers back up at the Master. "At least now you know I'm normal, right?"

Without warning, the Master lunged forward and was able to put him into a headlock. Grinding his knuckles into his head he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “ At least I know you’re still full of sass.”

"Alright, alright, leggo-" He (pretty much) helplessly swatted at the Master's hand. He was still laughing.

This felt good. A lot better than he'd felt in a long time.

“What’s that little phrase you’ve grown so fond of? Oh yeah!” The Master snapped his fingers, “ As If.”

"Mean to me!" Showie was rubbing off on him, it seemed. "And here I thought I was your little sunny boy. I'm hurt, dad. Wounded, even."

“My little sunny boy is going to have to pay the price in jail for one thousand years!” The master grinned- just as wide and shiteating that Xigbar had suspected- as he gave his forehead a light flick before letting go. “Butttt, I suppose I could pardon it. Just this once.”

"Ha." He got back to where he'd been sitting before, only this time now leaning against the pillar, rather than sitting flat against it. "Y'know, I never would've guessed that that's how you look. I was way off in my notes. … Eh, except for the expressions. Had those figured out no problem. Especially that grin of yours."

“Well I gotta wear my expressions on my sleeve- people need to understand my emotions somehow. Although-“ he hummed, getting back into a more comfortable position, “I am curious about your little theories. What did you think I looked like?”

"Y'know? I don't actually know." He produced a small, leatherbound notebook from his pocket and tossed it to him. It was old. Very old. "Take a look for yourself, if you want. See all my little notes."

The Master took the journal and gently opened the pages with a creek of its spine. “Ohhh, you weren’t kidding. You have a lot down here.” He made a low whistle as he turned the pages. “I can’t believe you had a period where you thought I looked like an average joe. Do I seem like a Stanley to you?” He teased.

"I dunno, figured you were going for a long con, or somethin'. It's something you'd do. You know it." He grinned and crossed his arms. "Gotta wear this crazy ass coat because otherwise you'd be the most unassuming guy ever. Something like that."

“Well if it were as simple as that I would have shown you my face a long time ago, believe me.” The Master sighed, handing him back the journal.

"I'unno, depending on how committed to the bit you were… Could still have taken this long." The grin on his face mirrored the shit eating cat grin the Master had worn moments earlier.

“Nah- I knew you were desperate to see me. That would have just been excessive cruelty with no purpose.” The Master gestured vaguely. “ Wouldn’t do that to my little sunny boy.”

"Alright, alright. I believe you." He looked away for a second. "All that desperation aside… You should probably put the hood back on. Starting to get all lightheaded."

The Master’s smile faltered slightly. “Ah. Gotcha.” His voice was soft. Back on the hood went. Once again, he was a faceless form. “Thanks for letting me know.”

"Told ya I would." He shrugged. "Eh, who knows. Might go and build up a tolerance. Maybe end up getting a vessel that isn't human at some point." He shrugged again. "Not like I know." The idea of a nonhuman vessel did make him wonder, though. If he ended up using one of the artificial ones Vexen made, what would he end up looking like? He didn't really know what his true appearance was anymore.

The Master paused for a moment before leaning back and rubbing his chin. “Ooooooh. that’s actually a thought there- perhaps that’s something we could figure out then.”

"Yeah, I mean… Not like I gotta appear any kind of way anymore. The hard part's over." He'd phrased it like that when he'd told Showie about his role. The hard part's over. It was just something he'd been telling himself over and over from the second he'd warped up to the top of that cliff. "Would hate to lose this one now, though. 'S my favorite. Showie likes it, too."

The Master nodded. “Noted. We can probably do something with that as well.” He waved his hand. “But I’m getting way ahead of myself. We can talk about this later.”

"No, wait, I actually wanna know what you mean by that." He held up a hand. "Not being accusatory, or anything. Just sounds interesting."

“Well- if we go about it the right way- we could possibly make a replica/clone hybrid using multiple samples.” The Master leaned forward. “Meaning well…” he looked away, seeming a bit embarrassed  for once. “Theoretically you could make one of a nonhuman creature that can withstand looking at me and also be able to take on a human form. Like. I don’t know. A fae. Or an angel. Or demon. Or god.”

"Ha! Imagine if I could be a god. You have any idea the kind of shit I'd get up to?" He flashed a crooked grin. "Be able to crank up my normal shenanigans to a 50."

“Really, you’d be able to do that with, well… pretty much anything I’ve mentioned. They’re called Gods because they’re powerful entities that people worship. There are plenty of entities out there that are just as powerful and aren’t gods.”

"Eh, fair enough. Lex has his whole pocket dimension thing going on, and whatever else is going on with that guy. I dunno. He weirds me out." He went silent for a moment. "So, hypothetically. If I ended up going with angel. Would I look like you?"

“You’d look a bit like me- I’d make sure that it’s not exact. ” The Master said fondly. “Also you wouldn’t have that dark mass of eyes. That’s uh. A different thing.” He waved his hand, expressing his lack of interest to elaborate. “Plus if it’s also a replica it would take on some traits from your current body if I have the science correct.”

"Well, that answers my other question, then. Didn't know if it was gonna use this one, or my original body, or what. Can't say I'd complain about this one, though."

“I mean if you wanted your original, we could arrange that. But you seem so fond of this one here.” His dad motioned to him.

"Eh, I'm good." He waved a hand dismissively. "Rather not un trans my gender. Think I'd rather take a dive out a window than put another binder on."

“Oh that reminds me.” The Master hummed fondly, “that shouldn’t be an issue either way. At least with the angel route well. The sex thing is different. When you get your human form you’ll be able to determine what’s most comfortable for you. Certainly makes things less complicated for us.”

"Huh. That why you weren't surprised when I came out?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or was that just some weird dad sixth sense?"

His dad shrugged. “Dunno. Coulda been. Human gender has always been a weird thing for me anyway. For instance, people sure are keen on calling me a man but I don’t really know what exactly that means. It’s always been something I’ve just rolled with.”

"Eh. Doesn't really matter in the long run. Gender is a game and we've got cheat codes. Guess that's why you have the whole 'momdad' thing sometimes, right? I always figured it was just a joke about your title."

His MoMdad laughed. “It totally is a joke- but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have a little truth to it.” He moved over beside him to nudge his ribs. “Either way, being a MoMdad was a pretty rewarding job, I’d say.”

"What? You tryna tell me to go and have kids? 'M fine with just the one stepkid, thanks. Don't need another teenager looking for a reason to deck me."

“Hey, your words, not mine.” The Master raised his hands in defense. “I was just saying you were a joy to raise.”

" Really ?" He grinned. "Thought I was… What did Aced call me- Oh, yeah. A 'bitey little violence monster'."

His dad nodded, rubbing his chin fondly. “You also really liked headbutting people. And you were still a delight.”

"I still will headbutt people," He laughed. "You better watch out, old man. Goin' around telling everyone how good I was- I have a reputation." He fake scoffed. If he could've, Xigbar would've winked.

“See that’s why I wanted to make you the goat.” The master poked Xigbar’s forehead. “ You would have been perfect. ”

"Yeah, well. I'm too pretty to be stuck in a mask. Regardless of what body I've got." He put a hand under his chin. "It's my glowing energy. Just can't be contained."

“Just imagine how I feel.” The master pouted, motioning to his hood. “Hey- at least whatever body option you go with, you’ll be able to show off your face. Showoff.”

"Simply start body hopping. Skill issue, dad. Skill. Issue." He stuck out his tongue with a small, mischievous grin.

His dad didn’t seem to find this as funny. “It’s a bit more… more complicated than that.”

"Figured as much. Something about the whole. 'Not being remotely human' thing, right? Some of the eldritch-ness would spill out, I'm guessing?"

“Well. Yes, among other things.” The Master mumbled with hesitance. “I have a… well. I'm sick. Makes a lot of things trickier.”

"... Shit. My bad." He took on a much less jokey expression. "Didn't realize." He paused for a second. Didn't know if it'd be appropriate to ask the question that had popped into his mind.

“No sweat.” His Dad rested against the pillar. “It’s not like you knew. I made a point to not make mention of it to all of you. But seeing as I’m coming clean. Well. Might as well.”

"Is… Is it the black parts?" He asked quietly. "Some kind of darkness thing?"

The Master nodded. “Pretty much.” He sighed. “It’s been with me for as long as I had first come to that world. Lost a lot of friends to something similar. The coat’s second purpose is to help keep it from spreading and ending up like them.” Another sigh. “Lost a lot of abilities from that too.”

"No wonder you hate darkness so much. Shit, I would too. So that's why you're always wearing that old thing? You're stronger than me, that's for fuckin' sure." He'd probably die of overheating if he had to wear the coat 24/7 again.

“Bingo.” The Master gave him a half hearted snap. “It’s uncomfortable but… eh. I got used to it over time. Though it would be nice to stretch out more. My wings. My form. It’s a pain being so contained. But I stay silly.”

"Ugh. Yeah, I can imagine how that'd suck." Subconsciously, he rubbed one arm. "Those are whole other limbs, huh. Wait- How many do you have. If it's just two, are you legally an insect."

“That’s not how it works. I don’t have an exoskeleton, ” the Master chuckled. “ But, to humor you, I have ten total. It’s a good number, I think.”

"I dunno, figured the coat counted as an exoskeleton." He grinned. "Fourteen limbs, so… isopod?"

“ISOPODS ARE CRUSTACEANS AND THEY DON'T HAVE WINGS, EITHER!” the Master gave Xigbar’s head a gentle bap. “RUDE AND INACCURATE!”

"Hey, isopods are cool !" He protested. "I could've said like… centipede, or some shit!"

“ Still would have been inaccurate! There’s no wings! ” His dad pouted.

"Okay. Okay. You know what? Give me a second." Xigbar pulled out his phone and started looking something up. After a few moments, he put his hands up in defeat. "Alright, fine. There aren't any centipedes with wings. You win this round."

The Master stared at him blankly. “Coulda told you that.”

"Hey, had to make sure. Aren't you the one that taught me 100% commitment to the bit?"

“Well yeah, but you also need to figure out when the bit is worth the time.” The Master sighed. “But yeah, it’s cramped.”

"You make it too easy to mess with you. Y'know, I would've thought someone who's seen everything you have wouldn't take stuff at face value so much." He gave his dad a once over. "So… How do you not constantly overheat in that thing?"

“I’ve just been a bit. Short tempered and sore lately. Can you blame me with this past week?” The Master shook his head. “Guess I’m just used to it. Plus it’s probably not as bad, seeing as I have a higher tolerance to… well. Everything.”

"Bet you can't handle swamp sauce. Shit's insane. I don't even know what I put in it half the time. Also it glows. And bubbles. Might be radioactive, I dunno."

“How about you make some sometime and we can find out.” The Master nudged him. “I do think you outdrinking me is unlikely.”

"Ha. I don't know if we're there just yet. Not sure if I want you to see what I'm like wasted." He had pointedly been avoiding summoning No Name whenever he drank for the past 2000 years. Don't need to open that can of worms yet.

“No?” The Master’s hood tilted. “Maybe not. But I have seen you drunk post, so that has to count as some sort of preparation.”

"Eh, it's a lot different in person. Just watching the posts make you miss a lot of dumb shit." Xigbar pulled the collar of his shirt down to show a decently sized puncture scar a bit from his shoulder. It glowed a faint lavender. "This one goes straight through to the other side." He chuckled at the memory. "That was a fun night."

The master didn’t seem to quite know what to make of it. “ Well- I suppose if you say so.” He shrugged, messing with a blade of grass on the ground. “Who am I to deny you a good time?”

"Vexen nearly took my head off," he snickered. "When I went into his lab with a bolt in my shoulder, bleedin' all over the place, he looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. Especially when he saw Luxord behind me! Sucked at the time, but it's hilarious now."

“Can’t say I blame him! If you showed up like that, I would have a heart attack- if that was possible for me.”

"He was more pissed off I was bothering him. But, y'know, he was the closest we had to a doctor, so… Didn't really have a choice there. Gotta say though, it healed up pretty damn well. The actual injury was three times the size of the scar- bolt went straight through." Xigbar laughed. "It builds character. That's the excuse I'm goin' with here."

“If you say so. But let’s move onto a nicer topic.” His dad said, “ Please.”

"Alright, alright. But for the record, I think it's hysterical." Xigbar grinned.

“It isn’t.”

"That's only because you're my dad. You get all janked up and weird whenever I get hurt." Xigbar shrugged. "Figured you'd be used to it by now, though. I could be an 'it's a hard knock life' edit."

“It’s a wound that would usually be fatal.” The Master sighed.

"It's my shoulder, but okay, sure." Xigbar went quiet again for a moment. "There's one more thing I wanted to bring up- the whole… name sitch for me."

“What about it?” The Master asked, relief in his voice from the subject change. “Thought you wanted to go by Xigbar now, and I said okay.”

"Eh, mostly. Mostly because no one except Showie knows about Luxu. But… If you wanted to call me that when it's just you and me or all three of us, that would be okay. I do kinda miss it. But if anyone else is around, even your boyfriend , I'm still Xigbar."

The Master’s hood shifted a bit. Slowly, he lifted his hand before pausing and putting it back down. “Are you sure..? I mean- you certainly don’t have to for my sake.”

"Yeah, I'm sure. Like I said, I kinda miss it. I never stopped thinking of it as my name, it just wasn't quite applicable anymore after the first few vessels, y'know? But with everything going on, especially with you here, I kinda… I don't know, I don't have to put on a face anymore? I don't know. Hard to explain."

“I see.” There was warmth in the Master’s voice. “Well, whatever you feel, I’d be glad to call you, Luxu.” He put a hand on his shoulder, Squeezing gently. “Just- let me know. 'Kay?”

"... Yeah." After a moment spent debating, Luxu turned and yanked The Master into a tight hug. Just for a second. Just for a second.

At least, it was supposed to just be for a second. But… he found that he couldn't make himself let go. Felt the Master tense for a second before he relaxed, melting into the hug and wrapping his own arms around his son. Xigbar could feel his dad’s hand cradle the back of his head. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought his dad was shaking.

He definitely could not feel any tears pricking at his eye or anything. Definitely not.

He needed that. He'd needed that for so, so many years. Something about the hug made this real. The Master was really here. His dad was really here. He wasn't alone anymore.

They stayed like that for- who the hell knows how long. Xigbar felt his dad take a deep breath. His voice was… shaking? That couldn’t be right. “I missed you, Luxu.” The Master said, hugging him closer.

"... I missed you, too." The words were barely above a murmur. It was all he could get out without his voice shaking. " So fucking much."

If he wasn't so focused on Not Crying, Luxu would be thinking about how weird it was to drop an f-bomb in front of his father.

His dad’s grip became tighter- if that was even possible. “I know…” his dad’s voice was shaking. “It’s… I missed you too, kiddo.”

After what felt like an eternity, Luxu finally let go. He sighed and wiped at his eye- only because he felt like it. Not because he was crying just a tiny bit, or anything. Nah. That doesn't happen. Something felt… changed. He felt lighter. Chest didn't feel as tight as it had been since the night his dad had shown up on Tumblr.

"Sorry- Your, uh- Your shoulder. Is wet. For no reason." Okay, he's had better recoveries than that, but it wasn't his fault that one sucked. The daddy issues were giving him brain fog.

“Ah.” He heard his dad sniffle. “Don’t look now, but I think yours is too… a bit.”

"Also for no reason?" Luxu let out a shaky laugh. " Fuck , look at us. 10 minutes and we're wrecks. Aren't we supposed to be the cool ones?"

The Master let out a soft laugh and nudged him. “Hey-“ his voice cracked a bit, “Even cool guys can be wrecks, you know. What a relief for me- oh, and for you too, I guess,” he teased.

Luxu laughed again and leaned back against the pillar. This was… He felt better than he had in a hell of a long time. This whole thing had gone so much better than he'd expected.

#### The New Kid Chapter 4

Paphos knocked on the door- Stanley’s door. He was here to learn what a video game was.

It opened after a momentary pause, and Stanley smiled and welcomed Paphos in.

“Hey, Stanley,” Paphos said, motioning for Phylax to stop growling. There was a man sitting in a chair in the corner, an aura of power surrounding him. He was reading a leather bound book, and he was wearing a yellow sweater and some gray pants. He had chain glasses. “Girl- no -” Paphos motioned at Phylax.

The man looked up and nodded at Paphos.

“Hello.” he said. “I am the Narrator.”

“Paphos.” He looked at him a bit warily, “The Showrunner’s kid. This is Phylax. She’s a divine hunting hound.”

[Hi Paphos! And hi, Phylax!] Stanley signed, as the Narrator nodded in acknowledgement. He waved them over to some kind of small computer. The screen was lit up with a screen full of blocks, and it said, 'Minecraft'.

Paphos crossed his arms, looking at the screen. “What is this?”

[A video game!] Stanley signed eagerly. [It's like a combination story-boardgame, with cool visuals. This one is Minecraft.]

That didn’t explain anything, but alright. “And… how is it played?”

[Right. You use these buttons–] Stanley pointed at the W, A, S, D, Q, E, Shift, and Space buttons. [And the mouse. Take a seat and try playing around with the controls!]

Paphos was feeling uncertain, and honestly a bit pissy (he chalked that up to the Narrator’s presence (he would have to get more comfortable around men)), but he took off his bow and let Phylax take it in her mouth, then sat down lightly. His hands felt unnatural on the keyboard.

“What do they do?” it wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with controls or machinery, he’d driven cars before and once had flown a small plane, but nothing like this.

[Well, first off, the WASD buttons let you move around your avatar.] Stanley signed. [For example, the W button will let you walk forward.]

He tried it. The screen images changed as though he was walking forward in first person. He wasn’t super sure he liked that.

“I see.” He said.

[Okay! And you can use your mouse to move your field of vision, and interact with the blocks with the mouse buttons.]

He broke a few pieces of grass randomly.

[Right. There you go! Now, if you get some wood, you can use that to make a crafting bench. And then you can use that to make tools!]

Paphos nodded, looking around in game for a tree. He saw some- they looked like a facsimile of birch trees- and he walked over to them and tried to break them by clicking. It didn’t work.

[Okay, you need to hold the button. Okay? Hold down that button.]

He did, feeling a slight bit irritated. Paphos didn’t really want to play a ‘living in the woods’ simulator, given that he had just been permanently barred from living in the woods. He did admit the… blocks? Made a pleasant noise when they disappeared, presumably because his character had picked them up.

[Cool! Now you’ve got wood. And then you can craft that, and then with your tools, you can go mining!]

Mining. Underground. Umm.

[Paphos? If you don’t want to do that, we can just build something above ground. Or, we could try a different game!]

Paphos reached over to scratch Phylax’s head, then said, “Yeah, maybe. Getting homesick.”

[Getting– for the woods?]

He looked up at Stanley, “I lived there with the hunters for 2000 years.” His voice was sort of bitter and sad.

[You lived in the woods. Okay. Uhmmmm. Okay, what sort of games do you like in general? Or, if you were playing pretend, what would you like to be?]

“This is the first video game I’ve ever seen. But, umm. I don’t really play pretend, only did that with Arme and Mom. Normally I just spar.” he paused, then glanced at Stanley, “But I’m open to anything.”

[Well, alright. I’m gonna let you pick what we try out next. We could look at the video game I’m from– which is basically an interactive story– or we can try a competitive game. Maybe a fighting game, but I don’t know if you’d like that the same as physically sparring.]

“How can someone be from a video game?” Paphos said tilting his head, “Like… are… how’d you get out?”

[I got summoned. And, well, lots of people here are from different media. Artemis is from a book series. Cesare is from a movie.]

“Artemis is a goddess, I know her.”

[No, no he’s– this is a guy, named after her.]

Paphos wasn’t sure that was appropriate, but he had to admit it resonated somewhat, gender-wise. “I see.”

[So! Which one would you prefer?]

“Um. What is your game like?”

[It’s in an office, the Narrator gives instructions, and then you pick what you actually want to do. Lots of different paths and endings.]

“Can Phylax go on your couch?” A brief detour from the topic. He’d get back on it in a moment.

[Sure!]

He motioned for Phylax to jump up- she set the bow down on the coffee table and then did, resting her head on Paphos’s lap.

“Uh, yeah, sure, let’s do that.”

Stanley grinned and opened his copy of the Stanley Parable (ultra deluxe!) and handed the laptop to Paphos.

[The controls are the same as Minecraft. Let me know if you need anything!]

He then watched Paphos with an excited grin as the opening cutscene played.

Paphos thought Stanley’s life sounded like hell, but he wasn’t going to be rude, not to Stanley. ‘As though he had been made exactly for this job, and Stanley was happy’ sounded awfully familiar, though. And then the narrated reaction game-stanley had to the disappearance reminded him an awful lot of when his father had suddenly gone on a business trip thing, unannounced. His mother had panicked.

He walked down down the hall and went to the door on his right (fuck you), then hung out in the employee lounge while the game-narrator got annoyed. Then there was no more dialogue.

He hesitated, looking up and asking Stanley, “How did you meet my mom?’

Stanley paused for a long moment. [I… had come into her… the space where the apartments and the storage and all that is– to try and find my Narrator. She’d kidnapped him. And then I. Ended up staying. Because at the time my will was a bit shit, and she… told me to stay. But she didn’t know about the will thing.]

Paphos nodded. It made total sense. “I understand, I think.” He paused, “Anyway.”

He left the employee lounge, ignored the fuck out of the narrator (FUCK you), then came up to a platform.

He got onto the yellow thingy that he had seen in the amazon’s workplace when he and Artemis had visited.

[Hey, Paphos. Didya know you can, uhm, jump down onto the catwalk?]

The game-narrator said something about someone being neglected and forgotten about.

It was clear that, whatever was down this path, Stanley did not want him to see it.

Which only left one choice, really.

“I’m gonna stay on the thing, I think.”

The narrator said something about her . Her?

Paphos walked through a door, which closed behind him (all the doors did that, he hated it).

He walked through a dark room with a ringing phone.

Picked it up.

Paphos jumped out of his skin- “Oh, Stanley, is that you? Hold on sweetie, sorry to keep you waiting, I’m just pulling the bread out of the oven-” That tone was- that tone was his mom-

He looked up at Stanley, slightly horrified, then looked back at the door.

“Alllllllright! Okay there we go, alright now! ” FUCK he had heard that before- “ I want you to come in and tell me all about-” the voice started to distort, and Paphos glanced at Stanley again, who was making a very, very pained face–

“ Your day at work- ”

The door swung open to reveal-

Paphos stared at the screen in shock. He paused the game, staring at the- at the-

Paphos looked from the screen to Stanley then back at the screen, back and forth, slowly .

[You can, uh. End it here. Restart. You don’t have to– it doesn’t get better. This is. I don’t like this one.]

He looked from Stanley to the game to Stanley, then burst out into a sort of shocked laughter- like a clown had walked into a funeral or something-

Stanley winced and tried to pat Paphos on the shoulder in a ‘there, there’ sort of manner.

Paphos sort of raised a hand, waving it over the keyboard for a moment before hitting resume as the Narrator began to laugh -

“ Hahahahaha, gotcha!” The narrator said, and Paphos sort of went ‘ PFFFT’ -

“Oh, come on. Did you actually think you had a loving wife? Who'd want to commit their life to you?”

“Hello??” Paphos said, laughing in a horrified way-

The narrator kept talking as Paphos stared.

Paphos decided that, maybe he didn’t want to go in that room. As soon as he could move again, he tried to inch down the hall, (Stanley winced)-

A brick wall popped up as the Narrator said, “ Sorry, but you’re in my story, now.”

Paphos burst out laughing again, saying, “Fuck, okay. ”

He walked into the room where his not-mom was standing or floating or whatever.

The door closed.

He was told to press a button on his keyboard.

“No.” Paphos said out loud.

Abandoning the game, he turned to Stanley and said, “Hey, what the fuck?”

[What the fuck, what?] Stanley signed tiredly. [It’s– this is an ending. What do you want from me here? I need a bit more. Specificity.]

Paphos sort of laughed, and didn’t respond for a few moments. He scratched Phylax on the head (who had not stopped staring at the Narrator since they walked into the apartment).

Paphos stared at the screen. He wasn’t doing it.

[You can still. Uh. Exit out.]

“Yeah, I figured. Does, um, does my mom know about this ending?” he was still laughing slightly.

[Maybe? I’m not exactly sure. I think she did some research. But I certainly haven’t shown it to her.]

“That’s, like. Have you heard what she sounded like before? Like has she done an impression or anything?”

[No.]

“Uh. Well. You have now? Dead ringer.”

[Great. That’s just– fuck me, why are there so many similarities to her in my video game? What’s up with that?!]

Paphos kind of waved his hand, “It’s very……it’s very!”

[So. Exit out? Or we could clip out of bounds.]

He sort of waved the mouse around- he had been staring at the couch, but jumped a bit and laughed when he saw his not-mom again. “This is so fucking funny,” He said, in a way that very clearly implied no one was supposed to agree with him.

Stanley said nothing, only sighing.

“This should happen in every video game. I want mom-jumpscared in minecraft I want her to just show up.” He laughed, “I- there’s Tetris? Exist-there Tetris? Put her in Tetris, it’d be funny.”

[Okay.]

“Ummmmm,” Paphos said, “Let’s exit out I think.”

Stanley nodded as Paphos exited to the title screen.

What Paphos wanted to do was show that ending to Xigbar, but he was picking up on a vibe in the room that that would be in poor taste.

The Narrator looked up as Stanley took the laptop and closed the game, glancing at it with some sort of recognition, before going back to his book.

Paphos wanted to ask if his mom was even okay with the Narrator being here, so close to her apartment, but decided that that would be in poor taste, too. “Are there any other video games or is it just those two.” He knew there were more, but he thought that was a mildly funny thing to say.

[Let’s try fortnite.] Stanley signed, sighing. [Kids like fortnite, right?]

Paphos blinked. “Maybe? I’d have to ask Sora about that.”

[Or maybe, uhm. Hm. Do you like puzzles? Or competitions?]

Paphos sort of reacted to competitions. But instead of responding to that, he said, “Do you fight at all? Are you familiar with any weapons?”

[I’ve got my hands. Used a spear– well, a semi-sentient line that turns into a spear– a few times.]

Paphos sort of wiggled a little bit- you ever see a cat getting ready to pounce?- “We should spar. I can do melee, not just distance. I can go easy on you, and also help you train with the spear. Or other weapons.”

[I mean. Paphos, I appreciate the offer. And I’ll take you up on it! But I don’t see why I’d need to… be able to use a spear.]

“So you can spar with me.” he said simply.

[Oh. Okay, then. That sounds fun.]

He grinned.

#### Unrestrained Summer Fun

Showie grabbed her suitcase (she didn’t know how long they’d be there) and felt the air crackle around her as she was suddenly pulled into Lex’s domain.

It was… Surprisingly normal. A fairly nice hotel room, done up in grays and dark reds. A gift basket sat on the dresser, and a welcome banner hung above the door.

She summoned [OM2T]kleis (for safety), picked up a note that’d been left on the dresser. The bracket. Ooh, interesting.

Them and [Nickname Redacted], blah blah blah, the guy from gravity falls was on there twice, blah blah blah… ? What was this? Braig on here? With- PFFFFFFT-

There was a knock at the door.

She was about to turn to ask Braig to get it, when- ah, nope, he was on the floor groaning. “You good?”

"Place always feels like a damn hangover," he managed to get out. "If I get up, I'm either gonna pass out or puke. Maybe both."

“Well, stay down, then,” she said, tossing him a pillow from the bed, “I’ll get the door.”

She walked over to the door, her Violence Heels (stilettos, a shade of red meant to evoke the snake-venom nail polish from the book Holes (she was mainly dressed in red today. Color of blood.)) clicking on the tile floor.

Her (same shade of red as her shoes) nails shone against the silver door knob as she turned it.

Lex hovered outside the door, grinning. He looked up and down the hall quickly.

"Can I come in? Don't want the other contestants to see me."

“Of course,” She smiled, stepping aside and holding the door open, “I warn you, Xigbar’s having a bit of an issue currently.”

"Oh, shoot. That's still happening?" Lex floated inside, wings tucked close to his body. His heels clonked on the black marble tiling as he stepped onto the ground. "I thought with a warning, the effect would lessen."

He made his way over to Braig, slightly wobbly, and glanced back at her. "Hey, Showie? I'm gonna do a thing. It's gonna look like flirting, but it's not. It's just to kill the effect of the transport."

She crossed her arms and tilted her head, the hood of her (red) cloak blocking just a bit of vision. Her body language said ‘okay’.

Lex nodded and knelt down in front of Braig. With two fingers, he blew a kiss, light pink vapor blowing over and settling on his target. A moment later, Braig sighed in relief and slowly sat up.

"Why the hell does that keep happening? Everyone else ends up fine," He snapped.

"I think it has to do with your powers. The other you wasn't doing too hot, either."

Showie tried to hide a sort of restrained laugh.

"Other me?" Braig asked suspiciously. " What? "

"Oh, yeah, went and grabbed a version of you frommmmmm… I dunno, like, 12-ish years ago? Give or take? Still missing your eye, but not Nobodyied yet." Lex shrugged. "Had to bring in the Unethical Science Gang. Not Apprenticenort, though. I know technically he's in his 80's, but he's inhabiting the body of a 20 year old. Doesn't fit."

Showie raised a slightly amused eyebrow, as a 2000 year old inhabiting the body of a 20 year old.

"So then..?"

"'S you, Even, Dilan, and Aeleus. That guy has too many vowels. His name is six letters long, and four of them are vowels. What the hell."

“So where’s…” She said, trying to think of a funny way to end that sentence and failing. She was referring to her father-ex, though.

"Right!" Lex clapped his hands together and turned towards her, his legs brought up close to his chest as he started hovering again. " That's what I came over here for! Scatterbrain moments. I put him in the basement! Hope you don't mind, but I softened him up a bit before you got here. Like… an appetizer. Didn't touch him, but he is scared out of his mind. What he gets for saying I'm not real." He grinned like a cat that just knocked over an entire bar's worth of glasses.

Showie mirrored the grin, then walked a few steps over to Braig and offered a hand up, “What do you say we go clean up our little mess?”

He took the hand, smirking. "I've been waiting to wreck that guy for a while ."

"Right, so. The elevator won't let most people down to the basement, it's kinda my Domain-domain, but my systems will recognize you. You'll be able to go down there anytime no one else is in the elevator, in case you wanna make it slow. Or if you just wanna say hi to yours truly!"

She smiled, tilting her head, “And your systems can tell the difference between Xigbar and the other one?”

"Yep!" Lex flapped his hands like he'd been waiting to explain this. "They're directly connected to me, right? I made this entire place. It's like a pocket dimension I can reshape at will. There's this one part- So I can make all the polls and everything just by thinking about it, BUT! It's way more fun to have this big multi-monitor setup and I can be like boopboopboopityboop-" he mimicked typing on a keyboard, " I'm in . Like a hacker guy."

Showie smiled fondly.

"... Okay?" Braig didn't look like he knew how to respond to that. Instead he turned his attention back to her. "You wanna head out, then?"

She nodded, bouncing a little. After the scare earlier today (and what a fucking scare - gods, Stanley, what the fuck?) she was more than ready to put some fear into someone else. With an added bonus of eliminating both a threat to Paphos and the (to her knowledge) main piece of evidence of their would-be deal.

"I'll leave you to it, then!" Lex winked. "Xigbar knows where the elevator is. I gotta go set up some polls. Later!" He snapped his fingers and disappeared in a plume of pink smoke.

"... That guy always weirds me out so much." Braig mumbled.

Showie smiled, “Aww, Lex? Shame. Anyway-” She held out her hand for him to hold, “Let’s go have fun .”

He grinned and took it. She suspected it was the same kind of grin he wore when he killed Paul Matthews.

They walked out of the room and into the hall, Braig leading the way to the elevator.

"Oh, wait- Can I see your hand for a second?"

Confused and a little gray, she held up her hand (still holding his) for him to see.

He stuck his free hand in his pocket (dimension) and pulled out some kind of roll, then proceeded to wrap her hand like a boxer or something.

"For if you start throwing punches. It's easier on your knuckles. Other hand?"

She tilted her head, dismissing her keyblade and presenting her other hand.

When he'd wrapped her other hand, he took a second to wrap his own. "Just want to avoid broken fingers. For either of us, at least. On him , I wouldn't mind a few. Or ten." He grinned. "Be one hell of a form of karma, huh?"

Setting aside the tingling in her stomach, she planted a little kiss on his cheek, then retook his hand, “Let’s go.”

The elevator had music, but unlike normal elevator music, it was. Death metal. Okay. That's normal. Was this supposed to be hype music? It had switched as soon as they set foot into the elevator.

"... You think he's trying to pump us up?" Braig asked, hitting the basement button.

She grinned, “Maybe so.” She found it charming, honestly.

"It's working." He bounced lightly between feet. "Can't fuckin' wait to get this dick back for what he did to my eye."

“Let’s keep this proportional,” she summoned [OM2T]kleis back, grinning, “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

"Oh, of course not. This is largely your fight." Braig held his hands up in surrender. "But at some point I'm blinding him. At least in one eye. Hell, maybe just gouge it out, who knows?"

She let out a low sort of evil laugh, “I think I have a better idea.” She felt a sort of excited energy in her limbs she had only felt a few times before (including the night she ran). She leaned in to whisper it to Braig.

He let out a low laugh. "Holy shit. That's genius. How do you think we could pull that off?"

“I… may have a few… ideas. ” She swung [OM2T]kleis a little bit, “I know him quite well, I think. Know what makes him tick .”

"I can't wait to see what you can think of. Bet you've got all kinds of good psychological torment plans." He flexed his free hand in and out of a fist. "I've just got the physical stuff, but… It's a classic for a reason, right?"

She bounced slightly, “Mmhmm. Anywayyyy.” She said, and cracked her knuckles, “I’ve been thinking of this for… um… a while ,” She wasn’t hesitating, the ‘um’ was for effect, “And you just need to promise to let me do my thing and not… hm, I suppose, mis-react?”

"Promise." He held up his free hand. "I'll wait until you give the green light before I do anything. But, just so we're on the same page, what exactly are you planning?"

She looked at the floor, swinging her arms a little bit, “Little bit of playacting, maybe? Get in his head a little?” She was unable to completely keep the feeling of thrill out of her voice. “Maybe let [OMITTED LAYER 2] come say hello?” Her voice darkened in an excited way.

"Ohhhh, I like it. You wanna pretend to betray me? Gut punch me a little? I can act like it hurts way worse than it does. Not to brag, but I am a pretty decent actor."

“Not quite, mon amour.” She looked at [OM2T]kleis, “More along the lines of cognitive dissonance. Say one thing… do another .” Okay, she was excited.

"Nice." He summoned his own keyblade – if it had a name, he hadn't told her yet – and stared at it for a second. "Word of advice- Hitting with the teeth down does more damage faster, but hitting with them up hurts more over a longer period of time."

“I see,” She grinned, trying to keep from wiggling.

"It's like hitting with a bat versus hitting with a sledgehammer. The teeth will break bones, but the stem will cause more damage to the flesh."

She stared at the floor counter as they went down, down, down.

Eventually, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The hallway it opened to split into two directions, one leading to clinical white tiled rooms, the other with pink and red lights that faded in and out, leading up to a room with the door shut and muffled dubstep blasting within.

A piece of paper with a hastily scribbled arrow was taped to the wall, pointing at the clinical looking hall.

Showie let out a low laugh. She dismissed [OM2T]kleis, then reached up a pigmented hand and dropped her hood, revealing ginger hair (extended to go past her thighs) and pearlescent gray eyes.

She looked at him, “Ready?”

He blinked. "Is that what you looked like before? It's weird seeing you in color." He coughed awkwardly. "Sorry. Yeah. Ready."

“Used some of that waterproofing you kept telling me about,” She winked, heels clicking as she started down the hall, “This is staying, at least until the end of our little game.”

"I can't wait to see his face. It's gonna be hysterical. You want me to wait in the hall for a minute when you go in? Pretend I'm not here?"

“You read my mind ,” She smiled. Down the hall, there was a door with a smiley face drawn on the same kind of paper as the arrow. “Think he could hear us from here if I spoke up?”

"Doors look pretty soundproofed, so… Probably not." As Braig spoke, the lights in the hall dimmed down to a level low enough that someone waiting outside the door wouldn't be seen. "... Looks like he's watching us."

“Of course he is, dear,” She said, her voice slipping into a different sort of tone. She shrugged off the cloak, revealing a long white chiton- the sleeveless doric kind. “Forgive me while I get into character?” She said in the same kind of sweet tone- a tone she used to use a lot.

"Fuck, that's weird." He shook his head, laughing softly. "Definitely like it better when you're you ." He paused. "…I know I said it earlier, but I really can't wait to see his face."

She hummed slightly, and approached the door.

He saw Showie- dressed like an ancient Greek princess or something, approach the door with soft steps. She clung a little to the doorframe, then knocked softly. After a moment, she cracked the door, and called in a tone somewhere between sweet and seductive, “ Honey? Are you finished working? It’s been a long day .”

This was seriously fuckin' weird. But hey, not his psychological torture. Who was he to judge? Besides… he had a vip ticket to the show. This is gonna be good.

A whimper sounded from inside the room, and Showie opened the door a bit more, sticking her head in, her (much longer than normal) hair falling to one side, “Are you in there? I finally got Paph and Arme to bed.” She giggled sweetly, “It’s a wonder I can manage something so complicated, huh?”

She pushed the door open, and took two steps inside.

Xigbar flipped up onto the ceiling, creeping forward just enough to hold the door open enough to peek inside. No way in hell he was going to miss this.

The whimpering turned confused, then quieted. “[OMITTED LAYER 2]?”

Showie giggled, “Who else would it be, silly?” She laced her hands in front of her and tilted her head, bouncing slightly. Then she looked around, and tilted her head the other way, sounding confused. She said, “My, the studio looks so different!” She brought a hand up to her chin, “Hmm-” giggle, “Guess i shouldn’t worry my pretty little head about things like this! You know how I am.”

She took a few more steps into the room.

… That was fucking uncanny. It was almost a direct line he'd used when he was trying to win over that freak. It made him uncomfortable how accurate it was.

“Is this a new art piece?” She asked innocently, “And you’re posing for it?”

“G- [OMIT2]ie ?”

“Mmhmm! I think it’s fun! Are you maybe going for a Prometheus kind of thing? Chains and all that? You know the stories so much better than I do, I’m probably wrong. Sorry.” She looked down, “Sorry.”

“I- I-”

“You know,” She said, looking up, “Arme said the funniest thing as I was putting her to sleep.” She walked over to the- he leaned over to see- to the prison-style bars. Half the room was a cell, he guessed. Bastard must be in the cell half.

Showie opened the door to the cell, stepping inside, “She spoke of you so highly - all true things, of course, honey, but it was a little odd. Was it? Maybe I’m wrong. I’m wrong. Sorry.”

This could only be going one way.

Please, please let there be violence soon. Thinking about what that absolute fucking freak did made his blood boil. His own fucking daughter …

Showie left his line of sight, walking closer. He heard some chains scrape across the tile floor. Her voice was lower to the ground when she next spoke, though he still couldn’t see her-

She was whispering, quiet enough that he couldn’t hear what was said. He heard [Name Redacted] gasp slightly- chains scraped across the floor again-

“Only one thing, though, honey,” She said just loud enough for him to barely catch, “I met the strangest guy in the woods today, and he put some ideas in my head. And you know me,” she murmured something he could hear, he assumed it was a pet name- “silly girls like me believe everything they hear-” her voice changed- by the time she finished everything they hear , she was Showie again.

“You wanna come in now?” She called.

Don't have to ask him twice. Xigbar kicked the door open enough to walk inside, still on the ceiling. Once he was a few steps in the room, heard Showie say:

“ Down.”

He dropped down, landing silently as a cat and grinning like one.

"You called?"

“Yes, I did,” She said, turning to him, hands laced behind her back, “ So so nice of you to stop on by. I was just talking to my husband here, and he said he was gonna rip some hair out of his head. You think that’s a good idea?” She tilted her head.

[name redacted] whimpered, and Xigbar saw him scoot closer to the wall. Motherfucker was chained to the nines.

"You know… I think it is." He crossed his arms.

“Alright-” she turned to [name redacted], “You’re good to go, honey! Don’t let us down, okay? Else my special stranger and I just might have to help out some.”

Please. Let them down . Xigbar was itching to get his hands dirty.

“I-” [name redacted] cowered as Showie- who was standing right next to him- leaned down slightly.

“Hmm, [nickname redacted]-ie? Need some help?”

He didn’t move. Stared at them in terror.

“ Aww ,” She said, her voice pitying, “I understand it’s hard , but don’t worry. [OMIT2]ie’s here to help you.”

She moved quickly, grabbing him by the hair before he got a chance to react, then yanked , dragging him across the floor. He screamed, and she pulled hard , and repeatedly, until a bloody clump of hair had been pulled from his head.

“See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” She tossed the clump to Xigbar, “We’re keeping that, by the way. War spoils. Reminder of first blood.”

“F-first?” [name redacted] sounded terrified.

“Oh, yes, baby, first ,” She said, her voice slipping back into the sweet tone, before coming back out with, “But certainly not the last.”

Okay. Gross. Absolutely fuckin' gross. Why do people keep giving him body parts. Regardless, he kept a straight face. After all, showing something like that would ruin part of the fun. And xigbar intended to let Showie have all the fun she wanted.

“Hmm,” She said, “What was that other thing you said, Honey? You were gonna-” she dropped a chisel in front of [Name Redacted], “-you were gonna cut off your thumb? Very interesting idea. Hmm,” she turned to Xigbar, “What do you think?”

"You're right, it is interesting. I think it would be fun to see some real blood in here." He spotted a bit of metal in the floor. "There's a drain here for a reason, after all. Would be a shame to let it go to waste after our gracious host put in the effort to install it."

“Well, you heard the man, honey,” She turned back to the freak on the floor, now shaking in terror. She kicked the chisel a bit closer to his hand, “or is my friend gonna have to help you out some?”

"You do know what they say about finding strangers in the woods, right?" He nodded to the chisel on the ground. "I'd get to it if I were you. Because if I'm the one to do it… It's gonna hurt so much worse."

He picked up the chisel.

“You know how to use that tool, right honey? That particular chisel has seen some use lately, hasn’t it?” She lifted the hair away from the right side of her face, revealing- holy shit, Showie- what looked like dried (red) blood covering her ear and neck. “Put those strong hands of yours to good use.”

Weeping and whimpering, he put his hand on the ground and put the tip of the chisel on the base of his thumb. Xigbar saw Showie’s hands clench in and out of fists behind her back.

He pressed down, but dropped the chisel before he even broke skin.

“ Aww ,” She said, “Need some help, honey?” She took a few steps back, giving Xigbar the floor.

Xigbar couldn't keep the sadistic glint out of his eye even if he wanted to.

He pulled off every shirt layer except the black tank top at the very bottom (gotta keep the good shirts nice) and stepped into the cell, manipulating the gravity on all sides of the chisel to hold it just over the base of the freak's thumb. He forced it down just enough for a single drop of blood to drip down the side of his thumb and pool on the floor.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," He said, and without giving [Nickname Redacted] a chance to react, stomped hard on the handle of the chisel. The crunch of bone and spray of blood on his boot were perfect. It didn't go all the way through, but the thumb was hanging on by a thread now. Might as well give it a second stomp, cut it off completely.

Now that would be a spoil of war.

He heard a ripping noise and looked behind him to see Showie bent over, ripping some cloth from the hem of her dress. She took off enough for a bandage, then tossed it to [Name Redacted], “Go ahead and get that covered, honey, don’t want you to get infected.”

"Or bleed out. Would be tragic if that happened before she's ready to let you die."

She tilted her head, “Go on, sweet thing. You take care of yourself while I talk to my stranger outside.” She walked over and picked up the chisel, then motioned for Xigbar to follow her out of the cell and then the room.

"How you feeling? You okay?" He asked once the door was shut.

She kissed him. Actually kissed him, not like they’d been doing.

… He's going to take that as a yes.

She pulled away, resting her head on his chest for a moment, hands gripping his shoulders.

"This is going great. He looks absolutely pathetic in there. I almost feel bad for him." His voice dropped. "But I couldn't feel any less pity for him even if I didn't have a heart."

He felt her shift slightly, then her hand came up to the back of his head. She kissed him again, smelling like makeup and a little bit of blood.

She squeezed his shoulder, pulling away. Her eyes looked a little watery, but her pigment didn’t run.

“ Hi.” She said, eyes fixed on the scar on his face (maybe because she was avoiding eye contact).

"God, yeah. Hi ." He laughed. "There'll be time later, though. Unless you wanna let him sit in there and stew in fear for a while."

She hummed slightly, but not in a thoughtful way. More restless. She bounced slightly, then bonked her head on his shoulder, “Don’t tempt me.” she took a breath, “Okay. Okay. Going back in. Going back in.”

She gave him one last kiss.

“Okay, now going back in.” She pulled away fully, brushing herself off a little. “Okay.”

She reopened the door, her voice tittering in a fake laugh, “You’re so right! That would be really funny to do,” She glanced back at him, “But we don’t wanna be too mean.”

They walked inside the room, and he closed the door behind them.

"Not yet? Alright. I'm sure there's something else we can do instead." Xigbar smirked, throwing a glance at [Name Redacted]. He'd pressed himself back against the wall, the makeshift bandage hastily (and badly) tied around his hand. "I wonder if he has any ideas."

Showie cupped her hand to her ear (the ‘bloody’ one) and leaned dramatically in [name redacted]’s direction, like she was demonstrating to a child what listening looked like. She acted like she was hearing something.

“Huh? What was that, honey?”

He was silent.

“Oh, good idea.” She said, walking back into the cell, “You wanna stab yourself in the leg? What do you think, stranger?”

"Oh, I think he can do better than that . That's weak sauce." Not swamp sauce. Not swamp sauce at all.

“Oh, but I don’t wanna make it too hard for him to handle,” She said, giving him a look . “Don’t want to overwhelm his little brain just yet, do we?”

"Yeah, you do have a point." He held his hands up. "Hopefully he doesn't hit the big vein."

Oh, this was getting the idea ball rolling now. Xigbar had been alive a long , long time. He'd seen so much shit, he knew what could be done to hurt the most. And this guy… Well, he deserved everything coming to him.

“Alllllllrighty!” She said with a small giggle, and dropped a knife on the floor, “I’ll be sure to help you out with this one, honey, if you’re not smart enough to figure it out.” She got a glint in her eyes, then looked at Xigbar like ‘IDEA’ . She banished the look, though, and turned her attention back to [name redacted], hands folded behind her sweetly.

[Name Redacted] picked up the knife with shaking hands, and then made an attempt to plunge it into his upper thigh. Key word attempt , he didn’t get far. Barely broke skin.

“Oh, good try, sweetums,” she said, “But one more time for me, okay? And make it a good one.”

Holding back a sob, he did in fact try again, and he let out a scream as the knife went most of the way into his leg.

Showie gasped and clapped, “ Good job! I knew you could do it! Now twist the blade!”

He looked up at her in horror.

“Or I’ll do it!” She said cheerfully.

He wasn't gonna say anything. Not right now.

But good fucking lord.

[name redacted] tried. He did. But apparently, the pain in his leg made him lose his nerve.

Showie said, “ Awwww, and I had faith in you.” She pouted, then quietly got to her knees, placing her hands over [Name Redacted]’s on the handle of the knife. She stared at him for a moment, then said, “Ready, honey?”

He didn’t even have time to whimper before Showie wrenched her hands to the side, twisting the blade a full 90 degrees.

She stared at him for a few more seconds, then pulled the knife out. She waved her hand over his leg and said something in greek. He didn’t bleed nearly as much as he should’ve.

Was she losing her nerve?

No. She wouldn't. He trusted she wouldn't.

Probably just making sure he didn't bleed out too fast. Can't have him die before they've both had their fun.

She stood up slowly, putting the handle of the knife between her teeth as she brushed off the front of her dress.

“Any other ideas?” she asked [name redacted], who shook his head, like that would change anything.

“Hmmmmm,” she said, trailing the blade of the knife across one side of his face, “Did you say…” she let out a low laugh, “Oh, what’s that? You wanna make it even, honey? You wanna cut your ear off this time?”

"Aww, that's sweet ," Xigbar’s voice dripped saccharine poison. "Look at him, taking initiative like that."

“And you think it’s a good idea, stranger?”

"It's a very good idea. He wants to match ."

“Life imitating art, I guess,” She smiled sweetly, then handed [Name Redacted] the knife back, “Alright, honey, go ahead , or he’s gonna have to help you.”

You’d think for someone who’d just stabbed himself in the leg, the ear wouldn’t be an issue. It was, though, because soon Showie was saying, “ Awww ,” And giving Xigbar the floor.

"Aw, guess he didn't learn from last time." Good . He was hoping he hadn't.

[Name Redacted] physically shrank away from him as he approached. Even. Fucking. Better. He grabbed the knife from him, and grabbed a fistful of hair, making sure to yank right around where his scalp was bleeding.

Just to cause the extra bit of pain.

"You really should've listened when she gave you the chance. Don't move. Not unless you want it to hurt worse." Yanking [Name Redacted]'s head to the side, he pressed the knife down – again, just hard enough to draw a single drop of blood, – then absolutely ripped the blade through his flesh. It took a few tries, especially once the handle of the knife got a little bloody, but that just made it all the better. It made it hurt more.

[Nickname Redacted] screamed, hands clapping over his ear- over his lack of ear.

He watched him writhe for a few seconds, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Xigbar stepped back, looking over at Showie. Her turn again. He offered the handle of the knife to her.

She took it, slowly, but instead of turning to [name redacted], she leaned into his ear, as if to whisper something, but nothing came out. After a moment, she pulled away.

She turned the knife in her palm, then held it up where [nickname redacted] could see, then let it slip out of her fingers and clatter onto the floor.

Oh, she had other ideas now.

Perfect . He'd been waiting for this.

He wasn't normally the hand to hand type, but… he could make an exception here. It would be more than worth it. Hell, it was already more than worth it. Of course, it would only be truly satisfying once the sick bastard was finally dead…

But letting loose on him beforehand was its own kind of reward.

Showie was quiet for a moment. She sort of stared at [name redacted], squeezing Xigbar’s shoulder. Then she turned her head back to Xigbar, leaning back into his ear. She said, “I’m gonna take a little break. You have fun.” She pecked him on the cheek, then clicked out of the cell, leaning against the wall and pulling out her phone. She was looking at him, though.

Oh. Ohoho.

He'd been WAITING for this.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled the hair tie from his hair and redid it. Couldn't afford to risk having his ponytail come loose right when things were getting good .

He wasn't going to go insane just yet. Not like he had with the chisel or the knife. Oh, no. This had to last. Make it hurt.

He had a lot of anger to get out, after all.

Y'know, there was really only one reason Xigbar regretted only having one eye anymore. He couldn't wink. And now would've been the perfect time to wink. Look over his shoulder, shoot Showie a wink, then start beating the everloving fuck out of her ex husband? The drama of it all. It would've been perfect.

Ah, well. No time to think about that.

[Name Redacted] shrunk away, cowering against the wall.

"Aw, look. He's scared. " He laughed. "Isn't that just precious ." On 'precious', he delivered an absolutely vicious kick to [Name Redacted]'s gut. Was that a rib he felt snap? Good . He didn't think his boots were steel toed, but… ah, well. It hurt enough.

Before the bastard could even begin to catch his breath, Xigbar grabbed him by the hair again and dragged him around so that Showie would be able to see the whole thing. Give Showie a show, ha. He threw [Name Redacted] to the ground, taking IMMENSE satisfaction in the sound of his head bouncing off the tile.

He stepped on the freak's chest, leaning over putting all his weight onto that leg (and making sure to grind his heel right on the broken rib) to look him in the eye. They were full of fear, those eyes. Just what he wanted to see.

Hmm.

Yeah. The right one. That's the one he was going to lose. Or better yet, have him pick which one he wants to lose. That would be fun. Not yet, of course. Not yet. But eventually.

He was losing an eye one way or another. Even if it had to be beaten out of him.

With one motion, he moved his leg and dropped down to straddle the guy's chest. Easier to hit him that way, and he wasted no time in doing so. It only took a couple punches before his hands were bloody. Pathetic.

"Look at this." He lifted his right hand up for Showie to see. A drop of blood hit the ground. "I barely even hit him yet! Look how fuckin' fragile he is."

Showie was staring at him, eyes sort of wide. He couldn’t tell if she was blushing or not (pigment).

She opened her mouth to say something, but once again nothing came out. She vaguely motioned for him to come over there.

Xigbar got up, with one last kick, then left the cell. When she calls, he listens. Especially here. "Yeah?"

“Uhhhm,” she breathed, motioning him a bit closer, and continued in a whisper, “I… could you maybeeeee…” He saw her hand clench, “Drag him around by his hair a little more? I’m so normal?” She breathed out a half-nervous sort of tittering laugh.

"Oh, absolutely. I can one hundred percent do that for you." His voice was barely above a mutter. He definitely wasn't turned on by this or anything. Definitely not. "You want me to take my hair down, too? Give you a show?" He chuckled darkly. It was a joke. Mostly. But if she said yes, well… he'd do it, of course. Why would he want to deny her anything here?

She stared at him, eyes wide. Lips slightly parted. He hadn’t seen this expression on her face before. One of her hands shook a little bit. Her eyes flickered to [Name Redacted] for a split second, then back to him. Finally, she gave the slightest nod, sort of looking him up and down.

"In that case," he drawled, pulling the elastic from his hair, "I'll trust you to hold onto this." He put the hair tie in her hand and sauntered back into the cell. No- the cage. Because humans go in cells. This guy wasn't even worth being called an animal.

[Name Redacted] was curled on the floor, holding not only his gut but his no doubt broken nose. If he could go all out, Xigbar wouldn't stop until every bone in his face was sawdust. Until every bone in his body was sawdust. He grabbed a fistful of black hair, this time not grabbing by the wound, but instead making sure to grind the edge of his thumb nail into it.

He yanked [Name Redacted] to his feet (it wasn't hard, the dude was way shorter than him), and all but threw him by the hair into the cage wall. Rinse and repeat. Honestly, it was kinda fun. Like a cat toying with its prey.

When [Name Redacted] stopped struggling, Xigbar dragged him one last time, holding him up on his knees in the middle of the cage.

"What do you think? He had enough yet?"

She blinked, confused.

"No fun when they're too fucked up to try and struggle. It's like they don't even wanna get beaten half to death!"

She slowly stalked into the cell, head tilted, “What do you think, Honey? Tired after a long day’s work?”

A groan escaped [name redacted]’s mouth.

“Huh, sweetie? What was that? Use your words,” She said, leaning down to speak to him.

"Poor thing can't even speak. Sad."

She looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place, “Oh, but Stranger. You and I both know that isn’t an option, now is it?” She looked at [name redacted], straightening and crossing her arms. She gently took the wad of hair holding [name redacted] up from Xigbar, still keeping him aloft.

“Now this is familiar , isn’t it-” she said a word in ancient greek, a pet name, probably, “Only the tables have turned, haven’t they?”

He let out a gurgling noise.

“That’s not a word.” She said, voice cold, “Are you too stupid to get out a word? Do you not know any? I-” She paused, then motioned with her head for Xigbar to leave the room.

He nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

If she wanted to be left alone, then she would be.

He leaned against the wall for about five minutes, then the door opened. Showie emerged, hands covered in blood. She shut the door behind her, then flicked her hands, sending droplets flying onto the floor.

"What do you think? Give him a couple hours to regain consciousness? I wanna make sure he's awake to feel all the pain coming for him."

“Mmhmm,” she said in the fake-sweet tone, then paused, blinking. “Sorry. Pretend I said that normally.”

"Yeah, sure, Doll." He said, laughing. A normal one, not the sadistic one from earlier. "Whatever you say."

She slipped his hairtie around her wrist, keeping it, “Hope you didn’t mind me having you step out? Some things I wanted to say that may have been a bit unpleasant to overhear.”

"Hey, it's your deal. I'm not gonna question it." He put one hand up, and her eyes fixed on it. "You call, I listen."

“That so?” She shifted her weight a little bit, a small smile on her face.

"I am your goon , after all," he replied with a slight grin.

“Well, Stranger,” She put one of her hands under his and guided it up to her face, some blood smearing on her makeup. She stood on her tiptoes (more than normal, anyway) and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning close, “You wanna go back upstairs for a few hours?” She tilted her head slightly, “Hm?”

His grin turned downright wolfish.

"Hell. Fucking. Yes."

#### The New Kid Chapter 5

“So you know Heracles?” Paphos, Sora, and Riku (and Phylax) were sitting at the edge of the woods in the shade of the trees. Paphos had finally ditched his parka- 90 degrees out, you get it. He was fiddling with an arrow while Phylax chewed on a bone she’d found when she ran off into the woods earlier. Paphos wasn’t going to question or mention it- especially not in front of Sora- but he was pretty sure the bone was human.

"Herc? Yeah, we're friends!" Sora said brightly. "He's really cool! He helped me learn what being a hero really means."

Paphos kind of grinned and tilted his head, “I see,” He said, thinking of the many, many, many fucked up things the Heracles he knew had done. But out loud, he said, “They made a movie about that guy, right?”

"Yeah, It's kinda similar to the version of him I met, but the timeline doesn't match up quite right. Also I wasn't there for the entire movie. When I know I remember being there for some parts of it."

There was a crack as Phylax broke off a bit of the bone. “Interesting,” Paphos said, “I haven’t seen any movies.”

"Really?" Riku asked. "None at all?"

"Man, sometime we all gotta go to Twilight Town! There's this one outdoor theater sort of thing- It would be fun!" Sora said, grinning.

Paphos smiled, “That would be fun.” Then, “Uh, yeah. I’ve mostly just been in the woods my entire life. That or Camp Half Blood, but that’s just to visit.” he paused, “Oh! Hold on, I’ve seen one movie. The Camp Half Blood orientation film. But that’s not exactly what people mean when they say movies, I think.”

"Yeaaah, no." Sora laughed. "Don't worry, there's a ton here to watch! Besides, not like there's much else to do, anyway."

“There was a television in their apartment, right?” Paphos asked, “We could watch something.” They- Paphos’s mom and Xigbar- weren’t home today, they were murdering Paphos’s father. He would have suggested the cabin, but the tv in there had been commandeered by some of the adults. They were watching a sport game of some kind.

"Oh, yeah! We could play Mario Kart, too, if you want!"

"Don't trust Sora or his cute face. He cheats."

"I do not!" Sora protested. "Man, you and Xigbar are both saying I'm a cheater- People might start believing it!"

“I-” Paphos said, “I still don’t know what Mario Kart is.”

"I can show you. And I'll actually show you how to play it, instead of throwing you in and letting you go through trial by fire, like some people." He shot Riku a mock angry look, making him laugh.

"You learned, didn't you? How long are you gonna hold that grudge? It was ten years ago!"

"Not long enough!"

Paphos laughed slightly. “Alright, I’m excited.”

Sora nodded. "Let's go, then! Not like anyone around here will miss us for a while. Probably won't even realize we're gone."

They stood up, Paphos told Phylax to drop it (she did), and then they set off towards the arena.

Riku stared at the bone for a moment, then caught up with them. He gave Paphos a bit of a weird look.

"Do you, uh. Know where she got that?"

Paphos glanced at him, “I’m choosing not to question it.”

"... Probably for the best."

"What's that mean?" Sora asked.

"Just don't go too far out here- either of you. Trust me."

Paphos exhaled through his nose a bit- not quite a laugh. “Alright.”

"So… No movies and no video games, huh?" Sora asked. "Then what do you do for fun? Hang out with Phylax or something? … Can I pet her?"

Pang. What did Paphos do for fun? He hung out with the hunters. Ignore that question, answer the easier one. “Well, she didn’t growl at you initially, which is a good sign. I’d let her sniff you before trying anything, though, I’ll remind you she’s one of Artemis’s hounds.”

Sora grinned. He crouched down, offering one hand to Phylax. He looked so hopeful.

Phylax looked at Sora, unamused but otherwise calm. After a moment, like she was recalling a social script, she sniffed Sora’s hand, and then held still.

Gently, almost hesitantly, Sora reached further and rested his hand on the top of her head. When she didn't react, he gave her a scratch behind the ears. He… wasn't breathing. Holding his breath? Or just too excited to remember to breathe.

“Look at that,” Paphos tilted his head, “That’s an honor, you know.”

" She's so soft!!!" Sora whisper-yelled.

Paphos laughed, “Yeah, she is.”

"Alright, you two. We've got places to be," Riku said, shaking his head good naturedly.

“Right,” Paphos said, “Onward, then.”

--

When they got to the apartment, there was a man in a long, hooded leather coat sitting in the corner, scrolling on his phone.

Sora nearly jumped out of his skin. Riku drew his keyblade, only to almost immediately dismiss it with an embarrassed look. They forgot about the babysitter, it seemed.

“Are you Xig-dad.” Paphos said bluntly.

He heard a sigh from under the hood, “Did the Showrunner tell you to say that?”

“No.” He paused. “Anyway.”

He walked over to the couch, leaving the Xig-dad to do whatever.

He looked at Sora and Riku, sitting down, and said, “You guys know how to work a television, right?”

"I do." Riku picked up the remote. "I wouldn't trust that one with anything technology."

"Hey!" Sora protested. "I can figure it out!"

"I dunno, I remember something about you hitting a computer so hard it sucked you in."

"That was Stitch, and you know it!"

"That's what they all say." Riku laughed.

Paphos smiled, looking to the screen, which was open to Disney+, whatever that is. “I- oh, look, they gave my great great whatever grandnephew a tv show-” He pointed to Hercules, the Animated Series .

"You're related to him?" Sora gasped. "Does that mean you're related to Zeus, too?"

“Oh, um, doubtless,” Paphos said, “But not in the way you’re thinking. I mean-” he tilted his head, “I could break out a family tree. I’m- My grandmother is Aphrodite, which means Zeus is my whatever cousin or something, and then there's the fact that I’m ancient greek. But what I mean is, in our world, Heracles had one mortal and one godly parent- Zeus and Alcmene- switch the order of those- And Alcmene is my mom’s great great great whatever great granddaughter.”

"That's so cool!" Sora said. "Man, I wish I was related to him!"

Paphos was going to take the real mythology of Heracles to his grave.

“Do you wanna watch the tv show?” Paphos thought the tiny-baby mythology disney presented might be charming, especially after the… Stanley Parable incident from yesterday.

" Yeah? Of course I do!" Sora exclaimed, excited and shaking his fists over his lap.

"He's been a superfan for years now," Riku said fondly. "Since they first met."

Paphos smiled, and said, “Alright.” Oh, yeah, no, he was taking the real info beyond  the grave.

They clicked on the first episode and ended up binging most of the season. Hercules went to a high school, and was friends with Icarus, who was love struck with their friend Cassandra. He gathered that Hercules chronically could not get a date- this was the plot of several episodes. Besides this, the three ended up getting into all kinds of trouble.

It was getting dark by the time they reached an episode titled: Hercules and the Dream Date.

The episode started off normally enough, focusing on Hercules’s utter lack of a girlfriend.

"Man, I don't know how he can't get a girlfriend. People go nuts over him!" Sora said, confused. "I mean. I guess it's because he's not a hero yet, but still! He's cute."

"Boyfriend, right here," Riku said, nudging Sora with his elbow.

"Yeah, but everyone knows you're cuter," Sora replied, rolling his eyes and snuggling up under Riku's arm.

Paphos, unused to romance of any kind, did not respond to that, instead watching in mild amusement as Hercules was repeatedly rejected. Of course, the Heracles he was aware of simply would have Grabbed someone, but he was taking that knowledge down with him.

Hercules and Icarus walked into art class, Hercules complaining about how no girls found him attractive. Paphos was about to make a comment about how he could simply be bisexual about it, when-

‘Stations people, we have art to create!’ Said a character they hadn’t seen before. Paphos stared at the screen, getting a sinking feeling.

‘ Oh, snookiebottom, you forgot your lunchie wunchie-’

“No.” Paphos said out loud, jaw dropping before she even came on screen.

She walked on screen.

“ No! ” Paphos shouted.

"What?" Riku asked.

Paphos motioned for him to watch the screen. Oh, no way in hell-

He watched in horror as- as the red haired woman ( hair past her thighs) (associated with Art-) grabbed the old ass man and dipped him into a kiss-

‘ Who’s that?’ asked Hercules.

Icarus said, ‘ What? Oh, that’s Mrs. [Name Redacted]’

Paphos let out a shriek, covering his eyes and shrinking into the couch in horror. He peeked through the gap in his fingers.

‘ Mrs. [name redacted]?’ said Hercules, ‘ How did old man [name redacted] land a vision like that ?’

Paphos looked at the two of them in horror, and they looked back concerned, but they didn’t get it yet-

‘ Well, the word on the street is he made her out of clay- he sculpted himself a perfect woman, invoked Aphrodite, then BAMO BABY! Love connection!’

Now they got it. Now they got it.

"Oh no," was all either of them could get out, spoken in almost perfect sync.

The three of them watched in horror as Hercules looked from Paph’s mother , to the clay in the corner, and then to the camera-

“ AUGH! ” Paph shouted, disgusted at the face -

"Oh, that's fucked up." Sora said quietly, in disbelief. " Herc …" Riku just stared blankly at the screen. Like he was trying to process it.

"What the hell…"

It cut to a shot of him, Hercules, groping squelching clay , and grunting, ‘ She… must… be… perfect!’

Paphos let out a horrified laugh.

It showed Icarus making some pots, then cut back to Hercules-

He had shaped a rough human form out of clay. He looked at it disappointed, while Icarus called it a ‘gorgon’.

‘Uh, well, Aphrodite will get the idea.’

"This is so gross." Sora made a face. "I feel like we should turn it off."

Paph grabbed the remote from Riku and paused it, looking at Sora with residual horror. He said, “I… if you want to. But.” He looked at the screen, breathed out an offended chuckle, “What the fuck? ” It was like a trainwreck. He wanted to see what happened next. “Maybe it gets better?” He wanted it to, for Sora’s sake. He was inwardly shocked that they managed to sprinkle some accurate Heracles characterization into the children’s show .

"I don't know how this can get better." He shook his head. "If you wanna see it to the end, that's what we'll do, but… jeez. "

“I… almost want to see how much worse it gets.” What else from Paph’s life were they gonna put into the show.

"... I really thought he was better than that." Sora's voice sounded small, disappointed, and sad. He burrowed further into Riku's side.

Papho’s older sibling instincts kicked in. “I’m sure he is,” He said, sounding certain although he wasn’t - he definitely sounded absolutely certain- “Let’s be genre aware for a second. He’s the hero, okay Sora? No way this doesn’t get better eventually. I’m sure he. Learns a lesson at the end.”

"But he still did it to begin with!" Sora threw a hand out at the tv. "That's not okay!"

“Preaching to the choir, Sora,” Paphos said. “Believe me, I know . But I also know that people make mistakes sometimes.” He paused for just a moment, “He could still make good choices about this. It’s not too late to be normal about it.”

"If he's taking lessons from that guy , I doubt it."

"Sora ever tell you we met him? [Name redacted], I mean. Hid your mom from him-”

“That’s not- no.” Paphos said with certainty- real certainty. “No. My mom wouldn’t do that, she doesn’t hide from him. Even when she was, like, half a person, she always got in between- No way she hid.”

"She tried. Did the whole arm thing. We didn't really take no for an answer there, though. That guy was clearly bad news, and we were in better shape for defense."

“Arme and I tried that once. Mom lost it ,” Paphos said, “She, like, raised her voice at us. I didn’t even know she could do that. We tried telling her there was two of us and that we could take him, but she wouldn’t hear it.” He shook his head. “Didn’t help that we were 11 and 13 at the time, I think.”

Paphos was quiet for a moment. “I… this is a children’s show. ”

"And yet…" Riku drew out the words, motioning at the tv. "Kid shows always have that one weirdly dark plotline. This is still on a whole other level, though."

“Mmhmm.” Paphos said slowly. “I. Am I good to press play?”

"... Yeah," mumbled Sora. "Rip the band aid off."

Paphos felt bad, but he pressed play, figuring it was too late.

‘Aphrodite, goddess of love and passion, hear my plea!’

Then there was what was maybe a phone noise. Paphos didn’t know, he’d never called anyone before.

Then she showed up and made fun of Hercules for being bitchless.

Then Aphrodite did a ‘makeover’ of Hercules’s fucked up statue.

Then

‘Hmm, but I... I really like tall girls. A little taller? Um, curvy? A little more curvy?’

Aphrodite said, ‘ OK, that's curvy enough for you, young man.’

"He's not being normal."

"Well, at least there's a limit," Riku commented.

“There’s still time for him to… recover?” Paphos said.

Aphrodite said, ‘Um, aren't you forgetting something?’

Hercules said, ‘Uh, dance, me, beautiful date.’ he paused, ‘The corsage!’

Aphrodite knocked on his head, ‘ Hello! Her personality.’

‘Oh, I hadn't thought about that. Uh, just make her, uh, crazy about me.’

Paphos groaned audibly.

"Of course he didn't think about that, " muttered Sora. He was looking more and more sullen by the minute.

Aphrodite brought her to life and-

‘Hercules, meet [OMITTED LAYER 2] ’

Paph groaned again, “Really? Like actually?”

"So, she's got no creativity for names." Riku raised an eyebrow.

“Actually,” Paphos said, “My mom didn’t get a name. They didn’t bother, the townspeople named her. [OMITTED LAYER 2] means ‘milk white’. You know, like ivory? I guess the point still stands though.”

"Wow. So they don't have any name creativity either," Riku replied dryly.

Paphos threw his head back and laughed, genuinely, “No one did! You wanna know what my sister and her husband named their kingdom?”

"Their-?" Riku blinked. "Okaaay… What did they name it?"

“Fucking Paphos ,” He smiled, “Name theives.”

"Holy shit." He burst out laughing. "It's a wonder there's any original names out there."

He smiled, turning his attention back to the screen-

‘Uh, hi.’ Said Hercules.

‘ Hi~’ Said not-mom.

Then she tackled him.

‘She’s a keeper’ said Icarus.

There was a scene in which Icarus harassed Cassandra again, and then-

“Is that Narcissus?” Paphus wondered aloud.

Hercules walked arm in arm with not-mom to their table.

Cassandra said, ‘ You did the [name redacted] thing, didn't you?’

He whispered, ‘ Not everybody needs to know it!’

Oh, so he knew it was wrong.

"The fact that it happens enough to be referred to like that- How many people are making statue wives?" Riku said, not hiding any disgust.

“Maybe it’s just that distinctive,” Paphos said.

Cassandra was mean to not-mom for a few moments, then it cut to the person Paphos thought might be Narcissus.

Helen (of troy?), said, ‘ Adonis, who's that new girl with Hercules?’

Paphos paused the show, “ ADONIS???”

"Who's Adonis?" Riku asked.

“ MY NEPHEW BROTHER.”

"What?!" Sora jolted forward to look at Paphos. "What do you mean 'nephew brother'?!"

“He came out of my tree-ified sister after the fucked up lust-curse Aphrodite put on her!” He stared at the screen, “Why is he here?!” he paused. “Ooooh noooo. Yikies. That’s an implication.”

"... I don't think I want to know." Sora looked nervous- Riku looked like he had already put 2 and 2 together.

"Is he dead." He asked flatly, not quite as a question.

“Mom and Xigbar are doing that right now,” Paphos said, staring at the image of Adonis on the screen.

"Good." Riku crossed his arms. "... Disgusting."

“Oh, man, you have no idea.” He shook his head, “I don’t like the implications of Adonis being here. But then again, Hercules is here too, which I guess means this could be a different sort of family tree. But- huh.” He tilted his head.

"Still insanely fucked up." Riku shook his head. "I don't understand how someone can be that awful."

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Oooooh, you’d be surprised-” He said, remembering what happened to Adonis. “But that is not a right now conversation. Any-fuckin-way, unpause.”

He unpaused.

Helen walked over, ‘ [OMITTED LAYER 2], let me tell you, Hercules is so kind and cute. He's a total doll.’

Paphos snorted, pausing the show, “She takes off her Helen-Mask and it’s Xigbar.”

Riku snorted.

"Okay. Okay. So clearly she's the popular kid, right? So it's safe to say that that's the general opinion of him, right? So then why did he have to go and make a statue wife?!" Sora all but shouted, throwing his hands into the air.

“Man, it’s ancient Greece,” Paph said, “Shit just happened back then.” He paused. Thinking of how Heracles got driven to madness and murdered his family. “My mom took me on a walk in the woods one time and I became immortal for a while. It was wild.”

"That's bizarre."

"I fought a hydra once," Sora said offhandedly, like that was normal. "Sometimes I can still hear Phil yelling at me to get up on its back."

“Yeah, those suck ,” Paphos said, “There was one hanging around outside New Orleans for a while. We didn’t get that one, though, that was Percy and that Ares girl.”

"Oh, I've never been there before. Have you? What's it like?" Sora looked like had done a full reset- Like he was back to normal.

“Didn’t get to stay for long, we always moved around,” Paph said, “But I remember liking it. Maybe we could go sometime? I can’t imagine Mom saying no to that. Um, from what I remember- lots of buildings I think might be considered old? We stopped by a food place and it was good.”

"We should go!" He paused for a second, then started doing the fist shaking thing again. "There was this one place- and- and we should go , and- Disneyworld."

Riku laughed. "If you need a translation, let me know."

“No, I get it” Paphos grinned, “We should ask my mom-”

"She's the one that told me!"

“Oh!” Paphos said, “Great, then!” (Paphos was ignoring the sudden stab of jealousy).

"We all have to go now! Even just like, the three of us! Boys' trip!"

Jealousy gone :).

He grinned, “You know, I’ve never been to a theme park or anything before.”

"Neither have we. I almost got to, but then it turns out that if I had the time to go on any of the rides or anything, I would've ended up turning into a donkey . Messed up!"

"When was this ?" Riku raised an eyebrow.

"Mark of Mastery exam. One of the sleeping worlds," Sora replied, waving a hand.

"Then how come I didn't end up there? We went to the same places."

"Because you got stuck in Monstro! I'm just cooler than you, I guess." Sora stuck his tongue out.

"Just keep believing that, Sora."

Paph said, “ Monstro?”

"It's this huge whale! It swallowed both of us once, and some of our friends."

Riku shifted a bit at that, looking a little uncomfortable.

Paphos raised an eyebrow for a fraction of a second, then said, “ Weird .”

"Yeah, it was weird. And gross. Don't go in there if you can help it."

“Aww,” Paphos said, “There goes my weekend plans.”

"Aw, you hated it that much, Sora? Guess I don't have an idea for a vacation," Riku said, grinning.

"You shush."

Paphos let out a little laugh.

Then he glanced at the screen and lost a bit of that smile.

"... Let's just get this over with," sighed Riku. "We're gonna have to finish it at some point."

Paphos sighed, “And then.. We can go to the food court.”

"Yeah… That's a good idea."

Paphos unpaused.

Not-mom dragged Helen (of Troy?) to the bathroom and strangled her. Fun.

‘Hmm. Let me ask you, which word best describes your whole create-a-date scheme, stupid or demented?’ Asked Cassandra.

‘ So I wished for a beautiful girl who's crazy about me.’ Hercules said like that was fine.

They watched as not-mom returned and snuggled up to Hercules, saying, ‘ And when we're together, it's like Mount Olympus on Earth.’

"At least one of the characters thinks this is fucked up," murmured Riku.

“And that’s Cassandra,” Paphos shook his head, “She, in this world, was given the gift of prophecy by Apollo and then cursed so no one would believe her. Fitting, I think, for her to raise the alarm.”

In the next scene, not-mom committed voter fraud, which made Paphos smile.

But then

Cassandra asked her, ‘So, [omitted layer 2], how do you like our school? ’

‘ Love it!’

‘What classes are you taking?’

‘None.’

‘None? What are you gonna do all day, obsessively follow Hercules?’

‘Pretty much.’

"... Yeesh. I guess at the very possible least, like 'the bar is underground' at the very least, they're making it look bad." Riku said, shrugging.

Paphos tilted his head a little, like, ‘Yeah, fair.’

Not-mom stood in front of Hercules and the bookshelf, Hercules and the lunch table, Hercules and the… bathroom?

Then came the thingy where they were gonna announce the whatever whatever dance royalty, and they won unanimously.

Not-mom said, ‘ I want to thank the boy who took me in his arms and shaped me.’

"No subtlety there, huh?"

Paphos snorted.

Then Adonis walked up, calling out the voter fraud.

He said, ‘ But the king of the Aphrodesia Dance is my birthright. I am a prince.’

“I mean, he is ,” Said Paphos, “But I don’t know what that has to do with this dance.”

"Also, isn't Hercules like… The son of the literal king of the gods?" Riku raised an eyebrow. "I feel like he should outrank Adonis. By a lot."

“His mom was royalty, too.” Paphos said, “It- it’s the same family . Hercules and Adonis are both descendants of my mom. His comment means nothing .”

"So he really just needs to sit down. Get rid of popular brain."

“Oh, yeah, literally,” Paphos said.

Not-mom held Adonis up in the air with her extending arms and strangled him.

“So true, [omitted layer 2],” Paphos said, “It’s not really his fault, but he sucked in real life.”

"Get his ass." Riku nodded.

Hercules said, ‘[OMITTED LAYER 2], put Adonis down. I don't want you to hurt him.’

‘You don't? Well, OK then.’ She dropped him and walked back over to Hercules, ‘ Oh, I would never ever do anything to displease you.’

“Ugh,” said Paph, “I’ve heard that before.”

"I don't know what he was expecting. He asked for her to be crazy. Don't be nervous, own up to what you did." Riku said.

And then…

Cut to Hercules and not-mom on a beach.

‘ [OMITTED LAYER 2], we've got to talk. You're a nice girl. Perfect even... in some ways, but I don't think this is working out.’

‘Is it me? 'Cause I can change.’ Not-mom sounded panicked - ‘ Would you like me taller,’ (she transformed) ‘shorter,’ (she transformed), ‘ something more exotic?’ (she transformed into Medusa).

"And now he's trying to dump her? What the hell," Riku scoffed.

Paphos seethed .

‘ No, no, no. That's not the problem. I want you to be your own person.’

‘ OK, then I'll be my own person!’

‘You can't… because I didn't make you that way.’ Hercules sat on a rock and pointed up, ‘ Look, what is that?’

‘The sun?’

‘And if I say it's the moon?’

‘Did I say sun? I meant moon.’ Said not-mom. Oh, that was familiar.

‘See what I mean? I'm sorry, [OMITTED LAYER 2], but it's over.’

“She doesn’t have free will, you idiot!” Paphos yelled out, “You can’t just fucking do that! She doesn’t know-” He ran his fingers through his hair, one of his nails getting caught on a curl- “Augh-”

‘ But... but it can't be over! I won't let you go! Don't you understand? I'm crazy about you!’

Not-mom did what she did to Adonis to Hercules, dragging him closer.

Paphos clapped on each word, “Get! His! Ass!” he curled his hands into fists, “You don’t get away that easy! Deal with your actions!”

Then Cassandra showed up in a chariot, SLAMMING INTO NOT-MOM’S ARMS AND SHATTERING THEM- and smashed her into rock, turning her to clay-

“KILLED HER. KILLED MY MOM!” Paphos shouted.

"WHAT THE FUCK." Sora all but shouted. That's twice he's sworn now. "WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE NORMAL ."

Then (she reformed) they dropped pots on her, tied her up, and then dangled her from Pegasus over the ocean?

“ HELLO???” Paphos shouted.

‘[OMITTED LAYER 2], I hope we can be friends. You'll find someone else soon, I'm sure. It's not you, it's me. I promise it won't hurt as much tomorrow. I have some growing up to do.’ Said Hercules, and then DROPPED HER ON AN DESERTED ISLAND.

“BASTARD!” Paphos shouted, as her mom looked at him fly away, sitting on the ground in a heap.

‘I'm just not ready for this sort of commitment.’

Oh, he did NOT say that.

But before Paphos could yell, it cut to Hercules on Pegasus, saying, ‘I feel bad about doing that, but she left me no choice. I mean, she was dangerous.’

"THEN WHY WOULD HE MAKE HER?!" Sora snapped. "IF HE WASN'T READY FOR THAT, WHY WOULD HE MAKE HER? YEAH, LET ME MAKE SOMEONE ENTIRELY DEPENDENT ON ME THEN THINK IT'S TOO MUCH COMMITMENT. THAT'S A GOOD IDEA!"

“FOR REAL!!” Paphos yelled, “FOR. FUCKING. REAL!”

The scene changed to the dance. Cassandra walked up to Hercules and said, ‘ Any chance we can leave Icarus on that island? I'm sure [OMITTED LAYER 2] could use the company.’

“Fuck. You.” Paphos clenched his fists.

"I was rooting for her! We were all rooting for her!" Sora fell back into the couch, hands over his face. "WHY, Cassandra!"

‘Don't remind me,’ Hercules said, ‘ This is all wrong. I can't just leave [OMITTED LAYER 2] in the middle of the Aegean!’

“OH, CAN’T YOU?” Paphos wished he had a snack he could throw at the television. There were tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Then why do it?!" Sora snapped.

‘Uh, that's not an issue anymore.’ Cassandra looked scared-

His mom burst through the door, looking like a statue, all paint gone- she had chains for arms, and launched the ball and chains towards Hercules, wrapping him and pulling him closer-

‘I'm back! Miss me?’ Her voice was low and threatening.

“GET HIS ASS!” Paphos cheered.

"MAKE SURE EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT HE DID!"

‘Hercules… You, me, dance now.’ She dragged him closer and closer-

‘Sorry, [OMITTED LAYER 2], but I'm sitting this one out!’ And he THREW HER ACROSS THE ROOM.

" WHAT. " Sora hucked a cracker at the tv. "IT'S ALMOST LIKE SHE HAS A REASON TO BE MAD, OR SOMETHING."

"He keeps playing the victim."

A fight scene ensued, His mom turning into various objects to attack Hercules- She tripped into a braiser, knocking it over and setting fire to the room.

Soon, she had FALLEN INTO THE FIRE-

“MOM!” Paphos shouted-

‘Oh! Help me!’ Shouted his mom-

‘[OMITTED LAYER 2]!’ shouted hercules.

"He'd better freakin' save her…" Sora muttered.

‘Hurry, man. The heat from those flames is gonna bake her like clay-’ Said Icarus.

Hercules grabbed the punch bowl and threw it onto a part of the fire while his mom withered on screen.

The statue of Aphrodite ended up getting knocked down-

He emerged from the fire, holding Paphos’s mom, who looked fired, like she couldn’t move-

" She BETTER be okay," Sora said.

Aphrodite showed up, sounding irritated. Then she saw Hercules, and said, ‘ Trouble with the little lady, Hercules?’

He said, ‘ I was stupid-’

Aphrodite said, ‘ And selfish!’

‘And shallow-’ Said Icarus

‘And sexist-’ Said Cassandra.

‘OK, all true. Thank you.’ Hercules sounded irritated.

“No, you don’t GET to be mad-” Paphos snapped.

"Playing the victim again." Riku rolled his eyes. "Of course he is."

‘[OMITTED LAYER 2] deserved better. She deserved to be her own person.’ Said Hercules.

“OH, YOU THINK?” Paphos shouted.

"Next time you create a wife, give her free will . Or! Or! Better idea! DON'T DO IT TO BEGIN WITH. " Sora said.

"Just accept you can't get bitches and move on," Riku agreed.

‘Oh, look at you. You've had a growing moment. Wow. All right. Well, let's make her a person. So, maybe a little free will, mind of her own… ’ Aphrodite waved her hand, bringing his mom back to life. She touched her face, looking confused.

Hercules said, ‘[OMITTED LAYER 2], I'm sorry. May I have this dance?’

“KILL HIM MOM.” Paphos shouted, only joking a little bit.

"DON'T TAKE HIM BACK!" Sora also shouted, not joking at all.

‘ Oh, Hercules, that'd be wonderful… If I felt that way about you, which I don't.’

“YES!”

"Get his ass!" Riku cheered.

‘And I'm sorry, but you know what? It's not you, it's me.’

“YES!”

"DUMP HIS ASS." Third swear.

‘I have some growing up to do. It won't hurt as much tomorrow. I promise.’

“GET HIM!”

"IT'S WHAT HE DESERVES."

‘I hope we can still be friends.’

“GET FUCKED!”

" DON'T BE HIS FRIEND!"

His mom walked away.

“Ha,” Paphos said, relaxing, “Watch this one fall for Xigbar, too.”

"Ugh. I swear, if he ends up with two girlfriends…" Sora made a face. "He's already annoying enough."

"Frankly, I'm surprised he even managed to get her to go out with him," Riku said. "She can do way better."

“It’s because he’s scary,” Paphos grabbed a cracker from Sora, “Like, on the outside also . If anything happened, people wouldn’t go ‘ oh, no, but he’s so nice! No way he did that’ , they’d be like ‘AUGH! XIGBAR! OF COURSE HE DID’, or whatever.” he crunched down, “And he seems okay, all things considered. And by Things i mean my father.”

"... You do have a point there. I literally did that the other day." Sora looked over at him. "They were doing keyblade training and ended up getting all dramatic- We all thought they were fighting for real and I assumed it was his fault."

“Bingo!” He said, idly watching Icarus and Cassandra have a harassment moment onscreen. “Anyway, you guys still wanna go to the food court after this?”

"I'm good. Can't eat anything right now. Not after that." Sora made a face and Riku patted his back soothingly.

"I'll go." He glanced from Sora to Paphos in a certain kind of way and nodded.

Paphos didn’t completely understand, but knew the look was significant, “Okay, cool,” He went to stand up, but took one last glance at the tv-

Paphos screamed- his FATHER and MOTHER walked onto the screen-

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME." Sora shouted.

‘Sorry it worked out like that, kid.’ Said his FATHER, TOUCHING HERCULES’S SHOULDER-

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Shouted Paphos, suddenly switching sides, “DIE!”

Phylax barked.

"Step AWAY from the minor!" Riku snapped.

“GO AWAY!” He shouted at the screen-

‘Yeah. I guess you made a better wish, huh?’ Hercules said.

‘Nope. The wife's as loony as they come. But look at her~’ He gestured to PAPHOS’S ACTUAL MOTHER, ‘Look at me. I ain't complaining!’

His MOTHER picked his FATHER up and wrapped him in her arms- literally WRAPPED him-

‘So long, suckers!’ He called back, laughing evilly in a way that made Paphos’s stomach turn.

Aphrodite said, ‘ All right, not everyone gets the lesson.’

Cut to black.

Paphos stared at the screen in shock .

"What. What." Sora looked at the screen blankly.

"... There was- That sounded like she'd have given her free will if she was asked." Riku looked back between Sora and Paphos. "I'm not the only one that heard that, right?"

Paphos was at a loss for words. “I…” He felt tears come to his eyes- “She- she doesn’t have free will and she’s stuck with him- I- I” His breath was coming in pants now- “We- we need to help my- my not-mom, we need to-”

"Sora, stay here a minute. I gotta talk to him in private." Riku stood and offered a hand to Paphos to help him up.

He took it (Phylax looked disapproving), and once he was up he crossed his arms and followed Riku out of the room, Phylax right behind.

As soon as the door was shut, Riku turned to Paphos, an intense look in his eye.

"Do you want to kill him. Get her out of there. I'm pretty sure I know where that place is." His voice was low.

Paphos stared at him for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts. “Yes. My mom didn’t get out of there until he was ninety , maybe we can get not-mom out sooner. And save her the trouble she faced on her own.” He felt himself calming down. Okay. Plan.

"Alright. We can't tell Sora about this, though. At least, not the killing part. He'd freak out." Riku looked at the ground and ran a finger over his bottom lip, thinking. "Okay… So. Idea. If we can get your mom to let us out of the forcefield for a while, I can get my gummiship and take us over there. I can't get us to the exact location, but pretty damn close."

Paphos put a hand on his bow and squeezed, “She hasn’t seen me in 2000 years, I don’t think she’d let us out unless it was with someone she really trusted.” He paused. Looked up. Did Riku catch his drift?

"Then we bring Xigbar, too." He did. "I know he'd be up for it. That's literally what he's doing now."

“Exactly. Okay, I’ll- I’ll reach out to him-” He pulled out his phone, “I’ll be like, ‘Hey, what do you think of Hercules’, and when he’s like, ‘booooo’, I can swoop in and tell him what we saw.” He opened tumblr, sending Xigbar a DM. “The mom in this episode looks just like how my mom used to. I know it’ll piss him off.  And then I’ll tell him I’m scared for her, which I am. He’ll help.”

"Good. Okay. So we have a plan now." Riku sighed. "Now there's the hard part we have to figure out. How to leave for our mission without Sora wanting to come with."

“Mom promised she’d stock the forest with game.” He said immediately, looking up at Riku, “Xigbar agreed to hunt with me. We could go in the woods to ‘hunt’ and then slip out without him knowing.”

"Good idea." He nodded. "He'll be mad when we get back, but he'll get over it fast enough. He always does."

Paphos nodded, “I bet Mom would even help distract him, honestly. We wouldn’t have to lie to her. If she makes any violent posts, she makes them invisible to Sora and Stanley and that’s it. And I know she’d want me to be able to get revenge on some version of my father.” He paused, “But how do we tell her that without telling her about the episode. Or do we say ‘fuck it’ and let her know?”

"We don't know how she'd react to finding out about it, though. I don't know her that well, and you haven't been around her in 2000 years." He frowned. "We have to figure out how she'd react before we can tell her."

“I-” he glanced at the door across the hall- Stanley’s door, “Stanley told me he ended up in the apartments because he had will issues and my mom told him to stay without realizing it. With the playthrough of his game I played yesterday, I think I know why. It’s the same reason why she snowglobed the Narrator!” He said, “In my opinion, it’s easy to see- She saw the parallels between her and Stanley and the Narrator and my father, and she decided to take action to help. If she knew there was another version of herself out there, a literal version of herself, still stuck with him - and gods, the fact that Adonis was there? Riku, that’s my sister’s kid. That implies that she and I are there, or at least were. No way in hell she would pass up the chance to try to protect us if she could. You saw her get in front of you and Sora in the hall.”

"That's exactly what I mean. I'm not saying she wouldn't want to help, I'm saying she wouldn't want you to help. You really think that after just getting you back she would want to risk you being around him?" Riku crossed his arms. " Especially if there’s the implication of you and your sister existing there. Especially if Adonis is there. We all know you have the strength and the skill to protect yourself, but in a case like this, she might not be able to look past it. I've had personal experiences with parallels versus meeting another version of yourself. It hits so much harder, you can't predict how you'd react until you're already reacting."

He exhaled, thinking. “What excuse could Xigbar use to take us out of the force field, though? My mom would be able to feel us leave, it’s her magic. Hunting works for Sora, but my mom… Maybe we can ask Xigbar.”

"I've got an idea. We can still use the hunting excuse, just beef it up a little. Heartless hunting. You wanted a keyblade, right? We can make it a training excuse. Like… a bonding exercise."

“That’s genius.” he breathed, “Okay. So it’s a plan.”

"Right. Okay. Good. We can frame it like… You can't summon yours. Sometimes they can be summoned in times of danger- Something about the fear unlocks it. But, of course, we can tell her you won't actually be in danger, because you'll have me and Xigbar looking out for you. Two keyblade masters, assuming he wasn't lying about that, you couldn't be safer."

He nodded, “Alright. Alright!” He was feeling much better now, and excited. Lex had denied him revenge , but now he was getting something better. Revenge AND a rescue! “Whenever Xigbar gets back from killing my real dad, We’re good to go.”

"Good." Riku put a hand on his hip and for the first time since the end of the episode, smiled. "Hopefully Xigbar checks his phone soon, then. The sooner we get everything ironed out with all three of us, the better."

#### The New Kid Chapter 6

Home for a little bit :) coming up to the apartment

Paphos stared at his phone. Home? His mom?

“ Riku!” He hissed, trying not to wake Sora up, “ Riku!”

Riku's eyes flickered open in alarm. Light sleeper? He looked like he would've reached for a weapon if he had one onhand.

" What? " He whispered.

“ My mom’s home. I’m guessing Xigbar is, too! She just posted on tumblr, I guess Lex put the tournament on pause!”

" Shit, really?" Riku blinked and sat up, slowly untangling himself from Sora. Heavy sleeper. " Okay… that speeds things up. Have you talked to them yet?"

“Xigbar, yeah. He’s agreed to help me kill my father, but he doesn’t know about most of the plan, yet. But he did say ‘as soon as we get the chance’. “

Riku nodded. " Let's go in the hall. Less of a chance to wake up Sora."

Paphos nodded, silently motioning for Phylax to follow him. They went into the hall.

“Okay-” He said quietly but no longer whispering, “She said she’d be up in a minute. If she asks, we… want to get something from the food court, and I want Xigbar to come with for unspecified reasons. She won’t question it as long as I’m getting along with him. We can say we came up with the idea while we were down there, when actually we’re telling him the plan.”

"Good. Yeah, okay. Also. I was thinking- it'd be a good idea to do actual keyblade training while we're out, too- That way it won't actually be a lie. We just won't be saying everything."

“And it’s not like I’m not good with a sword- I’ve used them before. That knowledge has to be transferable, right?”

"Kinda, yeah." Riku nodded. "I had a sword before I had a keyblade. It's pretty similar once you figure out the weight distribution. I'd say it's most similar to a bat, though."

“Okay. Great. Now we just need to-”

Phylax let out the very beginning of a whine- the kind you can’t hear unless it’s your dog, and everyone else is like ‘what are you talking about, they didn’t whine’ but you know. You know.

‘She’s coming!’ Paphos mouthed.

Riku nodded quickly. "We need to figure out what to bring back up for Sora- He's always hungry when he wakes up," he said, louder than before. Closer to a normal speaking volume.

“We can see once we get there,” he said, matching his volume. “There’s all kinds of stuff, apparently.”

He heard a clicking noise from down the hall. Mom. and more normal footsteps. Xigbar.

"He liked the burrito. Might bring him back one of those. Trust me, he doesn't care if breakfast isn't breakfast food."

“Oh!” Paphos’s mom appeared in the hallway-

“ Mom?! ” Paphos exclaimed, genuinely shocked, “Why do you look like that?!”

He walked over to her, Phylax close behind. His mom looked human - her skin was, like, normal, her hair was way longer than it was before, and red , like Paphos’s, and her eyes were the same gray- She was wearing a chiton, and both her hands and the chiton were covered in blood, as well as some bloody handprints along her arms, and one on her face.

“Oh-” She said, eyes a bit wide. Her eyes flicked from Paphos to Riku to Paphos. “I. Well. I’m fine, if that’s what you’re asking. This is makeup. And hair extensions.”

“Oh.” Paphos said, relieved. He wasn’t going to question the blood, he knew where it came from. He’d probably be getting some soon, too. “That’s good. Riku and I were just going to go to the foo-”

Xigbar rounded the corner- (also covered in blood, also with handprints- ew, okay-)-

Paphos dropped into something between an attack stance and a play crouch, “ COWARD!” he whisper-yelled.

" FOOL!" He whisper-yelled back, grinning and playfully drawing what Paphos assumed was a keyblade.

Phylax looked at them both curiously, then hesitantly dropped into a play stance.

“Ah-haha!” He said dramatically, “Drawing a keyblade on an unarmed child!” he said, holding his bow, “Sounds like coward behavior to me!”

"Claiming to be unarmed while holding a bow! Sounds like fool behavior to me !"

His mom laughed fondly. All according to plan.

“Ha! Turning against the child you once promised to train! Cowardly behavior!”

"Claiming defense is turning against you! Double foolish behavior!"

“Ha!” He began, but (as intended) his mom interrupted:

“Alright, alright,” She was beaming , “He is still going to train you, by the way.”

"Not before we go get something to eat, he's not." Riku put his hand on his hip. "We were just about to go to the food court."

“I bet a COWARD like XIGBAR is AFRAID OF THE FOOD COURT! ” He challenged, grinning.

"Only a fool would assume I am afraid of anything, much less a food court!" Xigbar's keyblade disappeared.

His mom laughed again.

“Tch-” he said, imitating a sound some of the younger hunters would make when being dramatic like this- he vaguely understood it to be from ‘anime’? “ Prove it.”

"You're on , kid." He looked at Paphos's mom. "I'll be back in a minute, doll. You want anything while I'm down there?"

“Oh, yeah,” She said, looking over at him (she had been looking at Paphos), “Maybe some of the barbeque?”

"Spicy, right?"

She raised an eyebrow, her voice sarcastic but affectionate, “No, actually, I put on fake taste buds, too.”

"Hey, I'm just makin' sure." Xigbar grinned, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Let's roll, gremlins."

"Oh- Uh, Showrunner." Riku spoke up, finally. "Just a heads up- Sora's asleep on the couch. He's a super heavy sleeper, but just in case."

She nodded. He could imagine her planning her route to get the blood off of her without waking Sora.

"Alright- now let's roll." Xigbar turned on his heel and started for the stairs.

Paphos and Riku caught up to him. Paph was holding back the urge to challenge him to a footrace.

"So. What's the plan?" Xigbar asked when they got to the bottom of the stairwell. "Assuming you have one."

“We’re going to kill my not-father.” He said with certainty.

"Uh, yeah, I gathered. How?"

“First, we need to get out of the force field. We know Mom won’t let me go alone, but she trusts you more than anything, so if you’re there, she’ll allow it. We’re going to say it’s ‘keyblade training’, the plan was, I suck, so I can’t summon my keyblade after you do whatever thingy. So instead of-” He turned to Riku, “is it two different excuses or just the one? Like normal hunting for Sora and heartless hunting for my mom, or?”

"Yeah," He nodded. "If Sora heard the heartless hunting plan, he'd want to go with."

“Alright,” Paph said, “We tell Sora we’re hunting game, like you said you would come with me to do.” (his tone implying he still very much expected it)-

"And I'm gonna. But first we gotta hunt something else, y'know?" Xigbar grinned.

“ Obviously. ” He rolled his eyes, “And we tell my mom that we need to hunt heartless so I can summon my keyblade because of danger or whatever, but not actually danger because nothing can go wrong with you in the room, blah blah, She lets us out of the force field. We get over to whatever world Hercules takes place in, and we find the- the high school? Maybe? Prometheus academy? I think it was called? And we kill the fuck out of my not-dad and we ask Aphrodite to give not-mom free will. The show implied she’d do it-” He leaned against the wall, “She’s not like the Aphrodite I know.” He paused. “I need to warn you, Adonis is present in the show. That implies Arme at the least . I don’t know if she’s still alive there, Disney is different than my world, but I think there’s a chance we can save not-Arme, not-mom, and not-me. Or at least, we save not-mom and the rest falls into place.”

Xigbar nodded slowly. "Alright. Solid plan. But- one variable you two missed in your little brainstorming sesh. How are we going to distract your not-mom long enough to kill him and get away from the body? From what I could tell, the other [omitted layer 2] was violent and could shapeshift at will, right? It's safe to assume the same for your not-mom. She needs to be removed from the equation somehow if this plan is going to work."

Paphos frowned, “How similar do we think they are? I mean, her voice- her willess voice- was dead on in the show, and they look almost the exact same. If- If we can confirm the existence of not-me, I might be able to lure her away with my voice? Mom would always come if I called, even if it meant directly disobeying my father. It was, like, the one choice she could make.”

"Good idea." He nodded. "Okay, and if that doesn't work? Assuming there isn't a not-you, at least. We have to plan for every variable."

"Y'know, I've never seen you this serious before," Riku commented.

"Of course I'm serious," snapped Xigbar. "You met the guy, didn't you? This one can't be any better."

Paphos tried to get back on track, “If there’s a not-Arme, I know she’d be willing to help. We used to team up, try to get her to fight back. Barring that,” He looked at the ground, thinking, “I mean? You could distract her?”

"I could try." He frowned. "Whether or not she reacts to it is its own can of worms, but maybe it could work. Push comes to shove, I can just grab the bastard and teleport us all to some remote part of the world that she won't be able to find us in before it's too late."

He nodded, “And push comes to shove to shove, not-not-mom reformed after Hercules fucking kilt her.” he paused, “It’s Disney, and she’s clay. I don’t think we can hurt her. Speaking of not-not-mom, I wanna check in to see if she’s okay.”

"Alright. We can do that, too. I can call in a favor to Lex, get some more time to work with. A couple days. I know we won't need that long, but still."

"Also," Riku started, "We need to get in some kind of keyblade training. Something to add some truth to it all."

Xigbar nodded. "Good. She can see right through me if I try to lie, and I was planning on getting Paphos a keyblade anyway. This just wraps it all in a nice bloodstained bow."

“Good,” Paphos crossed his arms.

"So… We can run the fake plan by her tonight and, everything willing, leave in the morning. Be back before we're missed." Xigbar nodded. "Solid."

Phylax’s tail thumped against the ground.

Paphos nodded. He felt bad for lying to his mom, especially about this, but she would forgive him once she heard what they did. “I do want to tell her after the fact.”

"Okay." Xigbar nodded. "But definitely only after . No way in hell she'd wanna risk you doing shit."

“I still disagree,” Paphos said, “But I’m willing to wait. I think she’d be completely okay with it, but I’m with you guys because I don’t want to tell her there’s another [Name Redacted] until there isn’t one.”

"This does make me wonder… This makes two. Does that mean there could be more? Alternate timelines?" Riku looked like he was thinking hard.

Paphos grinned a bit sardonically, and joked, “We travel through time and space just bumping off different versions of my dad.”

"Sounds like one hell of a road trip." Xigbar smirked. "But let's just focus on this one. If we find another in the process, that's a whole other story."

He smiled, then said, “We… should get to the food court before we’re gone too long.”

"Right. Yeah. Almost forgot about that part." Riku chuckled. "Easy to forget when you're planning something like this."

"Y'know, kid. I would've figured this would be a little dark for you. Being a 'Guardian of Light', and all."

"I use both ." Riku rolled his eyes.

"Good answer." Xigbar clapped him on the back. "Knew there was somethin' I liked about you."

“Xigbar’s gonna take me to hunt heartless.” Paphos looked at his mom, smiling.

His mom hesitated for a second, looking at Xigbar.

"Figured it would get him used to handling a keyblade. Seems like the type to go for the whole 'trial by fire' thing." He nudged Paphos gently. "Don't worry, he'll have both me and Riku here backing him up, so he won't be in any actual danger."

“You and Riku, but not Sora? Does this have anything to do with what upset you guys earlier today?” She looked at Paph and Riku.

"We just thought it'd be a good way to work out some of his anger," Riku said. "It was Paph's idea."

“I see. And are you telling Sora where you’re going, or are you saying something different to him?”

"We're telling him something different. He should have a chance to relax for once, not to mention no one will be able to focus if he and Xigbar are bickering the whole time."

Xigbar looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

“I see.” She took a breath. “Alright. Very well. When do you plan on leaving?” She looked at Xigbar.

"In the morning, I think. Right, yeah?" He glanced back at Paphos and Riku. "They just sprang this on me, they've got the details."

Paphos nodded, “Yeah, in the morning.”

“And how long will you be gone?”

"We're trying to go for one day, but we're planning for two just in case," Riku said.

"I got a favor from Lex, he's extending the break period for a couple more days before we get sent back." Xigbar leaned on the wall.

Paphos’s mom looked at her nails, “I see.” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Alright then.” She was quiet for another moment. “And you’re going to another world?”

"Yeah- It's something I used to do pretty much all the time before I got here, so. No biggie." He shrugged.

"Difference is, we're taking a gummi ship instead of a Dark Corridor," Riku said, glancing sideways at Xigbar. "It takes a little longer, but it's a hell of a lot safer."

"As if I'd let you two dipweeds in there without coats," Xigbar scoffed. "You'd end up consumed by darkness before you could blink."

“Is that what those are for?” His mom tilted her head. Seeing her like this was still surreal- she was still in full makeup, though parts of it had been either washed or rubbed off. Where the blood had been.

"More or less. They're general darkness protection, but Nobodies need 'em more than regular people. End up fading away into nothing if they didn't have 'em. So, more than just a 'cult' uniform." He shrugged. "Also they just look cool."

"They really Don't," said Riku.

"Yeah, sure, kid. I'm sure that's why you spent a year impersonating one of us and wearing it."

"That's not even remotely why I was wearing it, but whatever you wanna believe, man."

His mom looked between them, then gave Xigbar a sort of look.

"I'll tell the story later, doll. It's a long one." Xigbar grinned.

“... I see. Well then, alright.” She pulled out her pink tablet and put on a pair of gloves, “Give me a moment, I’m creating a new level of security clearance. It’ll allow you out of the force field.”

"So that means you're cool with this?" Xigbar glanced between her, and Paph and Riku. "We're good to go tomorrow?"

She didn’t respond for a moment, typing on her tablet. “I don’t see why you think I wouldn’t be.”

"Didn't think you wouldn't, doll. Just makin' sure." He held up his hands. "Just wanna make sure I get your okay before I do things."

"I will never get used to you caring about people's opinions," said Riku.

"Not 'people's'. Hers. "

“Alright, Stranger,” she said, “Stay safe out there.”

Paphos felt a tingle as she pressed a final button and then closed her tablet.

Xigbar blushed ever so slightly. Ew. "Not leaving until the morning. Gotta rest up first," he said. "You go on a road trip all tired 'n shit, you're gonna end up tearing each other apart." He flashed a lopsided grin.

“We wouldn’t want that,” She said, then: “Only made the clearance tonight so I don’t have to do it then. Anyway, all three of you are level .f1 now-” She said it like ‘point F one’, “which allows you to enter and exit the force field at will. This is in addition to your normal clearances, so Xigbar, you’re 10.f1.” She blinked, “Did I even tell you there were security clearances? There exist security clearances.”

"You didn't, but I mean. I figured as much. I figured Vice Showrunner wasn't an empty title."

“Mmhmm,” she said, then pulled her tablet out, “While I’m at it-” she typed on her tablet, then hit a bunch of buttons all in a line, “I’m getting rid of your nerfs. Not that they were doing anything, anyway, clearly.” She said to Xigbar, “But it’s occurred to me I haven’t shut them off yet.”

"I had nerfs? Since when?" He blinked in confusion.

“Everyone in the force field is nerfed by default. It’s not a manual thing- I can add or take them away, but it’s automatic. You probably didn’t notice them because you might be below the cut off naturally, or because your particular powers weren’t immediately harmful to me, so the force field allowed it. Hmm, see?”

She handed him the tablet, “All of yours were Cap Nerfs- it just stopped you from being more powerful than me, nothing was fully shut off.”

"Huh. Well, you were always the powerful one in the relationship," Xigbar commented.

She crossed her arms, taking the tablet back and closing it.

"What?"

"Okay, all that aside," Riku said. "I think I'm gonna take Sora back to the cabin for the night."

Paphos’s mom nodded.

Carefully, Riku picked up the still-sleeping Sora bridal style (he really was a heavy sleeper). "You coming with, Paph?"

“Yep,” Paphos smiled, motioning for Phylax to get up from where she was lying on the floor.

"Well, uh. Night, you two." Riku nodded at Paph's mom and Xigbar.

“Goodnight,” his mom said, and they left.

#### Showie Has… Friends? Since When? [Stanley Parable]

Showie got a text that Stanley had made it to the lowest floor. She was a bit nervous about him being in the lab (oh you know), but she'd thoroughly redecorated.

And she needed the company. It wasn’t every day that you realized that when your daugh-

No. no. no.

Not thinking about that.

So instead she opened the door (Stanley did not have the clearance to do so) and said, “Hey,”, stepping aside so he could get into the room. She then let the door close behind him.

He walked in, carrying a messenger bag that seemed to be moderately filled with different sorts of… stuff. She was fairly sure she saw the outline of at least one button.

[Woah.] Stanley signed. [This is… wow.]

She didn’t know if that was good or bad, and she didn’t super have the energy to… what was the word, care? No, she cared but she- she didn’t- she wanted things to be normal right now and she- the lab was the only place where no one could get in except for her and Braig but Braig wasn’t here he was with her son and they were lying to her .

“...Hey.” She said, not sure what else to say.

[Hi! What’re you up to?]

“Oh, you know.” She walked over to one of the couches and sat down, looking at the pile of books, some open, some now, and multiple laptops open to various sites, “looking up deer lore. I’ve mentioned Steri?”

[I… think so?]

“The-” she waved her hand vaguely, “The… the deer child, Rion’s kid? From the medieval french woods? Helped raise him, then Rion died and I was driven out of the woods and out of france and I never saw him again? White little guy with silver hooves and antlers.”

[Ah, that guy.]

“I’m looking for him, I guess.” She sighed wearily, “Xigdad said he was gonna help out looking for him- I-” she rubbed her eyes, “yeah. Anyway.”

[...how’s that going?]

She let out a little, humorless chuckle, “Oh, you know.”

[...do you want to take a break, then?]

“...Sure.” Why not? What’s the harm? Her tone may have been unenthusiastic, but that was probably just because she was unenthusiastic.

[You don’t have to!]

“No, no, it’s okay. I should,” She sighed. She didn’t really want to do anything, except maybe turn into a tree.

Stanley nodded, and began unpacking his bag. He had, in fact, brought several buttons, along with his laptop, some sticker sheets, and a little blanket with some cartoon ducks on it.

She smiled somewhat sadly. Sadly because she was sad, the smile was genuine.

[So! I’ve got some buttons here to push, and we can sticker some things, and then I’ve also got a number of stuff on my laptop.]

She nodded. She would’ve stuck some stickers on herself, if not for the fact that she was ivory and they wouldn’t just peel off.

[Whatcha want to do first?]

She stared at the array somewhat idly. “Ummmmm,” she said, “Ummm. You pick, I think.”

[Ah… alright. Let’s check my laptop!]

Stanley opened it, turned it away from her as he typed in his passcode, and then nodded and gestured for him to sit next to her as he went to his desktop page.

The wallpaper was a rainbow, geometric sort of pattern– or maybe it was abstract art. Stanley had quite a lot of video games (sorted by genre) on his screen, as well as a file folder labeled “WRITING” and another labeled “PICTURES”.

Showie folded her hands in her lap and watched him as he showed her his games.

“Stardew… valley?” She asked, tilting her head, “That’s the one with the, uh, the guy? And the grandpa with the bed. Right?”

[Yeah! You wanna play that?]

“Sure,” She said, slightly less unenthusiastic.

Stanley nodded, booted it up, and handed it to her.

She made her little character (she modeled it after herself without pigment) and then played through the intro.

“There he is.” She said quietly. “Bed grandpa.”

[Yeah!]

They went through the intro, and then got to the farm.

[So, what do you want to do? There’s a lot of stuff! You can start farming, clean up your farm, go and explore, go and make friends… and then, later, even more stuff will open up.]

“Let’s… talk to people.”

[Cool!]

Heading into town, Showie began to introduce herself to some of the townsfolk.

“Bitch,” She said about Haley, who had insulted her instantly.

[Heh, yeah, she’s like that.]

“She Will like me.” She said.

[Oh. Like. Oh like that.]

“Either way,” she said, “Don’t really care. She’ll warm up to me.”

[Yeah, I mean. Video game people are like that. Or, at least, in games with social stats.]

“Mmhmm,” she hummed. She met a variety of other people, with mixed first impressions.

Then, up at the top of the map-

“Oh, that’s the guy.”

[Shane?]

“Yeah, him. The Guy.”

She interacted with him and he instantly told her to fuck off. Well, he didn’t say that. But.

She laughed slightly.

[Is he… is he appealing, as well?]

“Rude,” She laughed, “Don’t call me out like that.” There was no bite to her voice.

[Just trying to get to know you better, honest. No judgment right now, this is all a game.]

“Let’s talk to someone else.” She said, dodging the question.

[Heh. Alright! How about we go and meet Sebastian? He’s in his basement, I think.]

“Alright.”

They went.

[Oh, looks like he’s still in there. We could wait in front of his door, or go and do some other stuff in the meantime.]

Showie suppressed a smile.

She did not move her avatar.

[Okay, cool.]

She laughed slightly.

He smiled.

[So, why’ve you been down in the basement?]

“Ah.” she said, her smile failing. “So no one comes and bothers me. No one uninvited, I mean. You need level ten clearance to get into this room, only two people have it.”

[...you and Xigbar?]

“Mmhmm.”

[...why’d you let me in, then?]

She looked at him, slightly confused, “To hang out? I- I invited you here?”

[Yes, I know, but– why here , if you’re still going to hang out with me? In the weird. Science room. We could go to my apartment, which is far less creepy.]

She thought the answer was kind of obvious. She didn’t want- She wanted to be able to control who she did and didn’t interact with right now. Invitation only. She also didn’t like the ‘creepy’ comment, it literally just looked like a room now. No one even died here, not for long anyway. So.

So she didn’t answer.

[...nevermind. Sorry. Uh, look! There’s Sebastian.]

“Mmhmm.” She interacted with him. He was nice enough. Alright.

[That’s nearly everyone met, I think.]

“Hm.” not having a great time. “Wait, who’s that?” There was a woman in the corner of the screen.

[Oh! Jodi. She’s a mom.]

She went up to talk to Jodi. She was a military wife.

Showie let out a little laugh.

[Do you… like her?]

She let out another little laugh. “Is. is.”

[...what.]

She laughed, “Probably not, right? Cowards.”

[Is what ?]

“Oh, you know.” She grinned.

[You’re gonna have to ask it if you want an answer, {SCEPTER}.]

Little, more uncertain laugh, “Are you mad at me?”

[What? No, not really.]

Not really? That meant a little. He was mad at her a little.

Feeling herself deflate slightly, she exited the conversation and directed her avatar back to the house. She slept.

[What, do you want to romance her?]

“No, not really,” she said.

[Cause, there are mods for that.]

“I’m good,” She said.

[...do you want to talk about something, {SCEPTER}? Because… we’re like, we’re cool, right? Or, cool enough?]

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re cool.” She hoped. Except for the fact that Stanley was a little bit mad at her, apparently.

[...even the explosion thing?]

“Yeah. Yeah, no, Stanley, it’s fine. Just startled me, is all. I get it, I do.”

[Cause I. I’d like if, maybe, y’know, you could go and hang out with him. With me there. Sometime.]

“Sometime.” Maybe when Stanley wasn’t a little mad at her. She missed Braig. He wasn’t mad at her. She missed Rion . Now there’s someone who wasn’t a little mad at her.

[Nice.] Stanley signed, smiling a bit.

She nodded.

[...cause, I’d really like it if we could go on a double date? Me and the Narrator, you and Xigbar… I think it’d be nice. Me and Xigbar are on better terms, and of course you’re always my friend, and… I want to do more… mushy stuff with Narry. But not… alone. Not– I feel like I need help.]

Oh! Ha! Haha!

“Alright,” She said, like that wasn’t the scariest idea she’d ever heard. Even if the Narrator didn’t do anything. That sounded so fucking awkward. She- it wasn’t like she could control Braig, gods, no, that would end horribly, there’d be a fist fight halfway through the thing and the Narrator was basically a god who had already tried to break Braig’s neck once.

[Okay, cool. You let me know when– it doesn’t need to be for a while, I just… he’s been on my mind. And I. Fuck, {SCEPTER}, I’ve felt strange since I came back. I don’t… I don’t know why, and I don’t think it’s anything in my code, it’s just… hell, maybe it’s just that I missed so much.]

“Strange how?”

[I don’t… right, so when we talked in your garden, it hadn’t really set in. I’d just… I figured it was a lingering strangeness, from being in a coma, maybe. But right now… I don’t know what to trust, exactly. I– I feel like I love him. I know that I love him. But you– and Xigbar– and Paphos– and just– I want you to understand how I feel about him, but I can’t even– I don’t know if even I could explain it. And I– it’s like there’s this nervousness, in my gut, and I trust it, and it wants me to… to act. To push back. To be defiant and angry and– and not trust those around me. But I don’t know why. I don’t know who! I don’t even know if it makes sense, {SCEPTER}, it’s just a feeling!]

A dandelion and a purple hyacinth bloomed from nowhere between their feet.

[What is that?]

“Uh-” She looked down at them. Picked the dandelion up, handed it to Stanley, “Dandelion, I suppose.”

[I mean, like– they’re in the floor?]

“Oh, you know.” She picked the hyacinth, holding it in her hands. Her heart rate increased. Palms felt sweaty.

“Um,” she said, “That- that sounds complicated, Stanley.” crushed some of the petals in her fingers. Picked at them. “Is there- I mean- do you want me to just listen right now?”

[I wasn’t even really planning on talking about this. I mean– fuck, I don’t know. I– I don't know what would help. I don’t even know if I want to deal with this with you or… by myself.]

She nodded. The flowers she’d picked from the hyacinth replaced themselves.

Stanley sighed.

Few more petals grew on her flower. She picked them off. Prayed Stanley wasn’t aware of flower symbolism.

[I… you said before, while I was… before. You said I could talk to you about the Narrator. I– I know I just did that, but, like– that still stands, right? Even though I’m gonna be sappy and lovey and not really… bitch about him.]

“Of course,” she nodded.  “O-of course.”

He nodded.

[I think… I’m gonna try typing something out. My feelings. Get it… thought out. I– here.]

He traded her his laptop for some buttons, paused Stardew Valley, and began typing in the notepad app.

She crushed more petals in her fingers while she waited. They- oh, no - she must’ve gotten a seed on her finger or something because a blossom grew on her.

Okay. Okay. Breathe. Breathe.

Eventually, he finished, and showed it to her.

The notepad said:

i dont know what i used to be. i dont know what i am. i wake up in an office, and there is a voice guiding me.

i have a general sense of what is normal. what makes sense. why? i dont know. but i do, and so i understand that this isnt normal. this isnt standard.

i dont like the voice.

i play through the 'game'. i walk through the parable, and find ending after ending. i do them all. several times over. i learn nothing more, nothing new, about how this place works.

i hate the voice.

years go by. i dont have any solid proof of this. i dont have any way to keep track of time, not when im in a timeloop, but i can tell.

i cant speak.

i have never been able to speak.

i havent communicated.

i begin to try to.

it takes time. it takes a lot of fucking time. but i start.

the narrator is not any more pleasant. but ive realized by now that he is not the most powerful thing here.

hes been trapped. he is trapped.

he cant get out.

we begin to talk.

and i find that he cares for me. in some strange sort of way.

but he is fucking horrified that i could.

for the record, i dont. at this point, i have some... concern for the guy. friendly feelings, but not that much.

but even that. the fact i could at all, it scared him.

so he ignored me.

and that made me hate him.

but that wasnt better. you see, the problem was that i could feel.

and eventually-- finally-- fucking years later-- i was able to get him to admit why.

he hadnt made me like that, and so it scared him. because where did that come from? how could i be like that? why did he get that?

i didnt know.

he knew i didnt know, and he sighed.

he did want to be around me. he did want to know me. but he didnt know if that was right.

because clearly, already, something was wrong. i was here. i was alive.

what i am was not intended.

he wanted to just ignore it. he couldnt-- he was scared of change. he didnt know if things could change, the end is never the end is never, and all.

and he was.

he knew that.

but its not exactly a truth, you know.

the end is never, but change can happen.

i have always been stubborn.

so i get him to talk to me.

and now-- now things are different. we're talking.

and he doesnt want to reach out. hes a big scared idiot and he hates change and he hates that hes giving control to me. but i like it.

so i keep talking to him.

im relentless.

and then theres.

we begin to have a something between us.

weve always had something, i guess. doomed souls in a doomed purgatory in a cycle that cyclically hurts the other.

but now.

now i need him to be there.

i dont remember who i was before. i dont know if there was a before.

i know i want him with me now.

why would i need him. why? why. i ask myself this a lot. i asked myself this, a lot. and eventually i realized, i cannot be alone.

now, i could technically have someone else. but hes-- hes molded around me, he is made for me, i am made for him, there is a hole in my goddamned heart and i need him to reach out. there is something between us that is just. so. its what i need.

and he wont admit it.

he still wants to keep acting like this is still some clean, orderly place. he needs to pretend at control.

and then.

well, then the game updates.

and we go through that.

overall, its quite nice, actually. new stuff.

but.

well, after that-- i know that he needs me.

he knows that.

and so i go into the core of his being.

and i see his true form.

and from then on, i know what it is like to have him. he is mine. he is my narrator.

i know we are connected.

there is a thread on my soul and it is not his color. there is a bind and a tie and it is one i have forged before he could. it is dark and blue like the ocean in a storm and it is my love and i could kill him with it.

and he doesnt try to cut it at all.

he holds the cord, with tenderness, and he looks at me, and he tells a story.

this is what we are.

—

“Poetic,” She said quietly. “I- it makes sense.”

He nodded.

[I just… we’re entwined, and entangled, but it’s not like… we were meant to have it be in… this sort of way. We were just supposed to be trapped in the Parable. I wasn’t originally… I was a vessel . The fact that I can feel at all, that I can love someone– that I can choose , and I chose him – I– am I stupid, for that?]

“Of course not.” She picked at the flower, “I- I get it.” She wanted to hold his hand, but figured that was kind of like. Shutting him up. Which she didn’t want.

[I just… I want to leave the Parable. I want me and the Narrator and everyone else inside of there to leave, forever. But I can’t, I know I can’t, and– I– I hate that, more than anything, I hate that.]

She was quiet for a second, then, “A-at least you’re not fully trapped anymore, right?”

[...because of what, you?]

She went fully gray under the pigment. Thank fuck the pigment was there. Thank fuck. Thank fuck.

“I-” Oh, he hated her, okay. She wanted to leave this conversation now. She wanted to leave this bracket now.

[Cause, I– I know you mean well, but– yes, I’m out right now. And yes, I’ll be able to get out while you’re able to draw me out. But the end is never. It is never . You can’t… go up against the Parable. Yeah, I’m not… fully trapped. Right now. I guess. But soon enough, I… I just will be, again.]

She nodded. At least the flower wasn’t going crazy anymore.

[I– I am happy I have this reprieve. But I know it’s just a reprieve. And I want out, I want something impossible. I know this ends. I know my break will end, I know my friendship with you will end, someday– even if it is at your death, even if it is the death of your sun, I– it will end. You will end. Everything will end except for my fucking office-themed purgatory .]

She nodded, trying to keep tears from coming into her eyes. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she could say, or if she’d lose it. This was not exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d said ‘hey stanley i’m having a mental breakdown do you want to come coexist with me’.

Stanley sighed.

[But I suppose– I mean, I– this is the most enrichment I’ve had in ages. This is… really, really nice. Meeting you. Getting out. I. Thank you.]

She nodded, sort of bonking her head gently on his shoulder.  Did a little finger gun at his dandelion, causing it to grow several more blossoms, a little single-stemmed bouquet.

Stanley looked at her, and gently started to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

[Is this… okay?]

“Mmhmm,” She hummed, because there was less of a chance of bursting into sobs than when speaking. She leaned into him slightly.

[Oh.]

He held her closer.

[I– you know I care about you. That we’re friends. That I– no matter how nihilistic I get, I like you. Right?]

She nodded, the blossom on her finger starting to itch.

[Good. Cause it’s true. We’re friends. I love you. I’m glad that we’re… that I can do this with you. Just hang out.]

The flower slowly started to bloom across more of her hand. Tamping down the panic in her chest, she scraped the blossoms onto the floor.

[I think we’ve– I don’t really want to talk any more right now. Just kinda be. You?]

Thank. Fuck. She hadn’t wanted to talk in the first place. She nodded, reaching over and grabbing a research laptop and a tome.

[Cool. I’m gonna do some coding.]

“Cool.” She said quietly, beginning to take down notes.

#### Some Worth In Life Chapter 8 [Lucky Duck]

Stanley stepped out of his apartment. He felt a little silly– but also excited– he’d put on a special tie (it had ducks on it) for when he got to see his first actual, living duck. What a momentous occasion!

He fidgeted with the knot as he headed down the hall towards {SCEPTER}.

She was wearing the red cloak again (hood down), but she wasn’t wearing the dress anymore (she was in her normal clothes again.) Her hair was uneven, some parts really long and other parts shoulder length, and there were patches of white in her hair where the paint or makeup she used had worn off. Her hands and wrists were white, too, though her arms were still skin-colored. Her face still was mostly covered in makeup, except for the space around her mouth and one side of her face. One of her eyes was smudged, and she still had that huge fake blood stain around the ear her Ex had hurt. She was clutching her tablet like her life depended on it, but she smiled at him when he walked up to her.

[Hi, {SCEPTER}!] Stanley signed. [So. Ducks?]

He bounced on his heels slightly, unable to control his enthusiasm.

She grinned somewhat tiredly, and said, “Yes. Let’s go to the clearing, I think they’ll like the pond.”

He nodded. The pond! He would get to see the ducks swim! Maybe he could even play with the water himself? Oh, how exciting that would be!

{SCEPTER} did a little motion, like, ‘Let’s go then’, and they started off down the hall.

The two of them went out of the general… Stanley still wasn't sure what to call it. The area inside of the arena that was definitely not a part of an actual arena interior; the apartments, and various rooms and storage spots. That space.

They went out of that, and then started walking out into the forest.

Stanley looked at the cabin with a touch of nervousness. He’d gone there to talk to Cesare the other day, and while they’d had something of a chat, Cesare had seemed rather… sleepy. Stanley wasn’t sure if that was a quality Cesare naturally had, or if it was something from the revival degradation… but he was hesitant to bring it up. The last time he’d mentioned a problem of his to {SCEPTER}, she’d started doing human experimentation . No, this was something Stanley would deal with on his own.

{SCEPTER}’s ankle twisted and she stumbled slightly before regaining her footing. She continued walking like nothing happened.

Soon they were at the clearing, and she settled down in a patch of the black and white flowers next to the pond and opened her tablet.

Stanley sat down across from her, (criss-cross applesauce style) and stared at her intently.

“Alright, so. What I’m doing here is a bit similar to how the food form worked, but a bit different because it’s on a much smaller scale,” she explained, putting on a pair of white and gray gloves and then tapping on the screen, “I’m going to open a small portal, and I’m actually going to summon in one or two of the ducks I used to keep way back when- that way, we know they’re used to people and alright with being held.”

He nodded eagerly– he definitely wanted to be able to hold the duck. And he did not want to make the ducks uncomfortable. And he honestly didn’t care how she was doing this, because there were going to be ducks .

She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then decided against it. She tapped on the screen some more.

“Okaaayyyyyy,” She drew the word out a bit, “ Cool. Alright.”

She tapped on the screen one final time, and a purple cracking filled the air about 5 feet away from them.

There were ducks.

Oh, gods, there were ducks!!

They had grayish-blue heads and necks, and their body was largely brown, though it did have some spots of more colorful– green, white, even a little red– plumage. Their eyes were deep and soulful, pools of dark stone that spoke of their intelligence and filled Stanley with wonder.

He reached out a hesitant hand to the closer duck. She– he thought she was a she– waddled a little bit closer and he waited. Intently.

This was exhilarating !

{SCEPTER} made a sort of clicking noise with her mouth and then said something in what Stanley thought was ancient greek, and the other duck ran over to her. She plucked him- Stanley thought he was a him- from the ground and gently held him in her lap, petting his head with one finger. She smiled.

Stanley looked at the duck in front of him, reached out a little bit more, and it raised her hand to nuzzle his hand.

He gasped, and then reached out again, this time petting the duck on her head with gentle, two-fingered strokes.

“They still recognise me,” {SCEPTER} said softly, petting the duck in her lap.

Stanley nodded, and moved a little closer to the duck, beginning to pet her with both hands, on the back and on the head. She seemed content here.

After a few more minutes, he decided to go for it. He reached out and picked up the duck in front of him, and then set her on his lap.

She quickly nestled in, giving him a look as if to say ‘Took you long enough’ and Stanley laughed in delight. He began to softly pet her, and the duck in his lap began to slowly begin to rest in his lap, tucking her head into her wing (and into the crook of Stanley’s knee.)

“I missed this,” {SCEPTER} said, almost to herself. Stanley thought there may have been more to the sentence, but she didn’t continue.

He looked up at her, and carefully took one hand off the duck in his lap so as not to startle it. He signed (though, with some difficulty, as it was one handed),

[What do you mean? Like, hanging out with me? Or the ducks? Or something else?]

She was quiet for a few seconds, petting her duck. “All of the above.”

Stanley smiled, and reached out to touch her on the hand– gently, carefully.

[I’m glad we’re hanging out too. And I really appreciate you showing ducks to me. It’s… you’re a good friend, {SCEPTER}.]

“You’re a good friend, too,” She smiled. The duck in her lap looked sleepy. She looked down at him (the duck) affectionately, then sort of tensed up, and relaxed again. The smile seemed a bit forced now.

[Is there… are you good? Something you wanna talk about?]

“Mmhmm,” She said, “I’m okay. Same thing going on as yesterday. I’m good.” She smiled, again, a little forced.

[I still don’t… know what that was.] he signed hesitantly. [You didn’t really talk about it then, either.]

She blinked slowly. “It’s…” she sighed, “It’s about Arme.”

[Who’s that?]

She looked up at him, “ Meth -Arme,” She completed, “My daughter, the ‘uh-oh’ one. I told you about her last time we were here?”

[Oh, yeah. I remember her now. That… ugh, yeah that’s some nasty business that happened with her. Did you… there isn’t some new, worse information, is there?]

“I wouldn’t call it ‘new’. I-” She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head a little, “It- It doesn’t change the story at all. I. I just realized where I was when it went down.” her voice sounded a bit tight.

[Oh. Oh, no. Where… so where was that?]

She stared into the sky like she was trying to blink back tears. “Ha. Um.” She closed her eyes again and tilted her head back down to the ground.

[You don’t have to say it. You can just. Be upset with me.]

“I-” she didn’t look like she could get the words out. A gray tear (gray because of her eye pigment) ran down her face.

Stanley reached out and held her hand in his own.

She held back a sob, “Um. Um.” She squeezed his hand, “It- because of- the will issues, I didn’t- but I was-” The sob came out kind of strangled.

Stanley nodded, and squeezed her hand.

With her free hand, she picked a stone out of the pond and then tossed it about 15 feet away. She nodded in its direction, then squeezed her eyes shut tight.

He looked at the stone, and then back at her.

He squeezed her hand tighter. It was close. Very, very close. A stone’s throw. Ha.

(Except it wasn’t funny at all.)

“St-Stanley I heard it ,” Her voice shook, “And I- I didn’t know .”

He looked deeply into her eyes, and then pulled his hand away to sign.

[You didn’t know. You couldn’t have. {SCEPTER}, what you were, before you ran away… that’s not who you are now. You know now.]

She opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind. e

She blinked her tears away, “I- I can’t even hug Paph about it.”

[Why… not?]

“He’s not here,” She let out a bitter sort of laugh. “He’s with Xigbar and Riku on a ‘’’’hunting trip’’’’.” Stanley could hear every quote, metaphorically speaking.

[Well, you can… later. Like, as soon as he gets back.]

“Yeah.” She said, staring at the ground.

[You can also. Hug me. If you need a hug.]

“I know, Stanley. Thank you,” She scratched her duck on the head.

He nodded, and then went back to petting the duck in his own lap.

After a few more minutes, he looked up at {SCEPTER} again.

[We are going to keep them, right?]

“Of course,” She said, nodding slightly. “I remember them disappearing, anyway. Made me a bit sad back then, but they never did come back.” she let out a small, dark sort of chuckle, “Guess this was a rescue, then, for them.”

[So… do they have names?]

She let out a weary sigh, “You know, Stanley, I’m sure they did. But it’s been over 2000 years, and my memory sucks on a good day.”

[I’m gonna name them then!]

She nodded, “Go ahead.”

He nodded, and began thinking. As he did so, he asked her,

[So, Paphos is on a hunting trip. That’s not actually for hunting?]

She sighed deeply, “Here’s the thing. They gave two different excuses. They told Sora they were going on a hunting trip, like, for animals. And they told me that they were going to hunt heartless- uh, they’re what’s left when someone loses their heart, from what I understand, if you destroy a heartless they just, like, wait for the body to be destroyed and then the person comes back fine- they said they were hunting Heartless, for keyblade training. But-” She sort of waffled, staring at the lake, “I- I- Well, they were lying to me. First of all. I can tell when people do that, I’ve gotten very good at reading body language though the 50 years I had to spend hypervigilant. And Xigbar’s, like, especially bad at lying when it comes to me. And second of all, if they were hunting heartless, why wouldn’t they want Sora to come? And also, they told me that they were telling Sora a lie- I- I’m not sure what they’re doing, but I have… a vague hunch.”

[That’s a dick move. They should be honest with you.]

She made a face like, Mmhmm!

She said, “And I’m telling you now- It was Paph’s idea. And I- I have the vaguest-” She waved her hand a little. “ Something is afoot here. And that something , bet you anything, is Galatea flavored.”

[Ooooh. Drama. I hope it’s not… you know what, I’m gonna assume the best for now. I can be nice. But I don’t like this. And you can be upset.]

“I’m sure it’s nothing, like- It’s not Pyg Shit, I assure you. It’s just- Okay, so they leave Sora behind, yeah? And they form Team,” she shook her head a little, “Team… Dubious Moral Compass? Xigbar, well, you know. And Paph has been so angry lately , and Riku, from what little I know, is no Sora. So Team Dubious Moral Compass exits the force field to go ‘find heartless’. But the only reason why I can think of them not wanting Sora to come along for that is that they’re not hunting Heartless at all. They’re hunting, like, something else. But then I was thinking, ‘But Pyg is dead?’, but Xig-dad told me earlier that the kids were watching something and were upset. So I ask Sora about it, and he won’t tell me . Which is fine, but it’s adding up. I… I’m extrapolating here, but with Team Murder disappearing off into the ether giving two different excuses and leaving Sora behind with information he won’t tell me…” She shook her head, “I think they found another Pygmalion. I mean, what else would none of them tell me that would Also make Xigbar agree to go on some sidequest?”

[Yes, that… makes sense.]

“But it’s irritating because they’re keeping secrets from me. Xigbar said we were done with secrets, and this one is like… that’s my secret. I could understand if it was none of my business but, like, I am the CEO of this particular secret, yeah?” She plucked a black and white striped flower from the ground and began idly ripping apart the petals.

[It's your past, yeah. And this is hiding something. But, I mean… hmm.]

“Hmm?” She looked up from the flower she was destroying (petal fragments in a pile on her duck’s back), tilting her head.

[What do you actually think could… go wrong here.]

“Oh, nothing.” She said honestly, “I think their little plan will go off without a hitch. They’re all very capable, and I- I know that Xigbar isn’t gonna let Paph get hurt. I- I don’t think anything’s going to go wrong , but, like,” She waved her hand, “I’d like to at least be informed.”

[Yeah, that… makes sense. Have you said that. Like. Just that, clearly stated.]

“That-” she blinked, “Oh, no, I’m pretending I can’t tell they were lying to my face. For now, at least.” She picked another flower and started tearing that one up, too. “Clearly they think-” She took a breath, then smiled kind of fakely. Did not continue.

[You should tell them what you're actually thinking. Bluntly.]

She frowned slightly. “I’m not sure how. I- I don’t want to call them out on it just yet, because Paph and Xigbar are getting along. I- I want-” She crushed a flower between her fingers, staining her ivory, “I need them to get along.”

[If they're… but that doesn't mean you should just, like, fall over for them. You don't have to do that. I know you want them both to get along, and it would be cool if they did, but that– you should still be upset about shit that pisses you off.]

“Hmm.” She said. “I… I guess so.” She didn’t look sure.

[... it's still your call. But that's just what I think.]

She nodded.

Stanley nodded back and went back to petting his duck.