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X-DREAMERS [IC - BASE]

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Pascal -- Main Hall > Towards Kitchen

 

Pascal felt her weight being supported then balanced back onto her feet thanks to the arms of the gentleman with the strange curled eyebrow, and her amber eyes lit up in amazement when he had caught all the items back into the box without even letting a single one fall to the floor. Thoroughly impressed, Pascal reached for the box and tucked it under her arm again, showing her appreciation by tilting her head to the side and smiling. "Yeah! These are mine, thanks! They're little communication thingies I need to deliver to everybody before they head out off-world cause that'll be helpful for them in case of an emergency. They're not activated yet though, so right now they're just a bunch of blocks..."

 

"And if you want to go to the kitchen, it's that-a-way!" Pascal pointed into the distance towards the hall where all the hostility was emanating from. "I'll go with you to grab a snack. All this running's got me beat!"

 

Her walk was almost like a march in form and, temporarily forgetting the urgency of the situation, she led the two guests through towards the back kitchen entrance, right past a scene of the couple robots she saw earlier. Pascal seemed to be set on reaching the kitchen, however, and at a comfortable pace she simply strode past them without actually seeing them. "There's probably bits and pieces of ingredients around there, but wouldn't really know since I don't really cook," she pouted. "It's a lot easier to eat stuff that's ready to eat without cooking, like fruit!"

Edited by TehUltimateMage

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Yusei | Get a room...

 

"I'll make sure he remembers," Yusei assured Lara. She excused herself from the hallway, leaving the pair of teenagers under his charge. Nodding once, he was about to speak when someone else beat him to it. Turning, he blinked slowly at the purple-skinned and winged creature. Horns, large and curled, extended forward from the being's skull. Motioning with his hand to include Evonna and Sora, Yusei replied without skipping a beat. "I'm about to help these two with the same matter. You can join us and I'll help you get settled in," he explained.

 

Stuffing his hands into his pant pockets, he began moving, heading down the hallway. "Some of the rooms are already occupied however, there should be enough space for everyone. Feel free to choose any vacant room to claim as your own." Pulling a hand free, he pointed to the rooms that were taken. "Once you find a room, I will mark it down so the others are aware."

 

Coming to a stop at the end of the hallway, he faced the new arrivals, both hands in his pockets again. "I'll be downstairs if you have any questions. If you can't find me, there are other agents here who can help you. Just ask around," he stated before taking his leave from them. 

 

Circuitraider | Doctor, doctor!

 

Some of the organics made a quick exit. That was good - despite the delay in doing so. At least no one was harmed as a result. Circuitraider watched them leave, the newly arrived trio and the human who took Duke from the authoritative figure. The Autobot wondered if this man was in charge of the stone structure and small world. She stared as the blond made a demand for introductions, as if having such information would prevent future incidents from happening. How... optimistic...

 

Typheus introduced himself and Fiddlesticks, interestingly failing to report their origins and occupations. He renewed eye contact with her, however brief, and remained silent thereafter. "I am known as Circuitraider, an autonomous robotic organism hailing from the planet Cybertron. I am a tactical scout for the Autobots," she informed. 

 

Voices traveled down the hallway and Circuitraider looked for the source, spying more humans - and another one with wings. Deciding it was best not to question the improbable physics of humans with wings (and floating on clouds), the Autobot turned her focus away from the trio. At least she recognized the young female with the two-toned hair. The man introduced himself as Xander before turning towards the small procession of organics. He looked about to ask something of the young female and then reconsidered. 

 

He started walking, indicating that the trio of mechanical beings should follow him. Circuitraider hunkered down, parts shifting and locking into different places. Less cramped, she could follow the man but something made her stop. The steady sound behind her... "I can carry her," she offered, reaching out to Typheus. There was silence, no sound that indication movement once the silver mech had stopped. Eventually, however, he came into her view, shuffling Fiddlesticks over with him. Carefully, the unconscious mech was laid across Circuitraider's roof. 

 

Her suspensions groaned faintly, her undercarriage creeping closer to the ground.

 

But she held without trouble. The mechs, apparently, were heavier than their appearances suggested. Circuitraider likely should have anticipated that. Fortunately, it was not an issue in this instance. Starting forward again, the Autobot resumed following Xander through the castle.

 

Someone new rounded the corner and came into sight, pausing when he realized their paths had crossed. "Yusei," Xander greeted, briefly explaining the necessity to examine Fiddlesticks. 

 

"Of course. I can take them from here unless you want to come with," Yusei replied. His blue eyes scanned the trio of machines, his organic face indicating nothing that Circuitraider could recognize. There was something on his left arm, a strange contraption of metal and she wondered about its purpose. 

 

The man (who's hair was also two-toned) guided the bots further through the castle and through a set of doors that lead outside. "This is one of the side entrances to the castle," he explained, holding the door open as Circuiraider rolled through. Open space where green grass stretched and the light of twilight blanketed the small world. 

 

Instantly, Circuitraider altered her form once again, carrying Fiddlesticks with her until the mech was held in her arms. Much better...

 

Yusei was a few feet further to the side, staring as if briefly transfixed. Quickly, he resumed the nondescript expression that seemed rather common for the man, door easing shut now that everyone was outside. He lead them on, continuing his silence and only coming to another stop when they reached their destination.

 

In the base of the castle, a wide room was cut out and stocked with various shelves and tools. Machinery and computers lined the walls at irregular intervals, individual workstations clearly arranged to accommodate more than one mechanic. Crouching down, Circuitraider placed Fiddlesticks in an empty space on the floor as directed by Yusei. (None of the tables were long enough nor durable enough for the mech.)

 

Immediately, Yusei set to work, rolling a computer closer and connecting a set of cables to Fiddlesticks before typing away at the keyboard. Circuitraider appreciated that the organic was not the conversationalist. However, she still wondered about his thought processes. The human looked up, his steady gaze finding Typheus. "I'll need your help. I don't want to make a mistake on your friend."


Sora | Extremely bored and incredibly friendly... Maybe.

 

"Place like this, probably has a large library," Sora commented, a little idly. "Whoa..." he breathed as a tall... being, approached the group. Wings, horns, purple skin. The markings were odd and the eyes glowed green behind some kind of bandana. But the markings didn't look anything like the Heartless or the Nobodies so that was good. Right? At least, he seemed more interested in sleep than anything else. 

 

Looking to Evonna, he started to shrug in response to her question before realizing she wasn't talking about the new stranger. Frowning, he tapped the toe of his right shoe behind his left heel. "It's called a Dusk, a Lesser Nobody. They're... enemies..." he explained, trailing off as he wondered about the validity of his answer. 

 

Shaking his head, he decided that moving onward was better and headed down the hallway after Yusei. "Wonder if all the rooms are identical. Probably..." he mumbled, shoes slapping against the tiled floor as he jogged ahead of anyone. "I'll take this one," he called, waving to Yusei before opening the door to expose a simply furnished room. 

 

Yusei left after learning which rooms were being claimed now. Crossing his arms and lightly tapping his foot in thought, Sora tilted his head, the tapping come to a stop. "There's not much going on here, huh? I wonder what we can do here," he questioned, glancing at Evonna. "Wanna check the place out?"

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[ Second floor hallway - Illidan ]

 

Thank Elune, a place to rest! It was a massive relief to not only hear that there were rooms vacant, but that he could claim one as his own entirely. He watched as one of the others claimed one of the vacant rooms, and followed suit with another one. "This one is mine."

 

He opened the door to a simple room. It would have to do for now - he made a mental note to redecorate to suit his tastes. He also made a mental note to scratch his personal emblem onto the door at some point so that people would know that the room was his.

 

For now, though, he was content to rest. He closed the door, practically belly-flopped onto the bed, and fell asleep.

Edited by hikarinomemori
Fixed a sentence that was butchered a bit

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~Evonna~

 

Evonna was very confused by the winged demon thing that passed them. Was it hostile? She wouldn’t be sure. All she knew was that this place probably had a library, and she was going for it. The excitement settled in her chest- what kinds of books would be there? Would there be something fun and interesting? More romance books? Nonfiction? History? The possibilities were endless. Maybe she could just spend her time here reading, staying away from all of these people! What fun! Keeping her cool, however, Evonna shrugged.

 

I mean, sure. Maybe we’ll find something interesting, yeah?” As they started to walk, Evonna placed the hair tie from her wrist onto the knob of the door across from Lara’s room. “That’s mine.” She then looked back at Sora, gave a meek smile, and began walking.

 

 

~Edward~

 

Edward made his way into the kitchen, needing some more food after the whole ordeal. He hoped the dude who got stabbed was okay- alkahestry wasn’t his thing so he couldn’t help. It seemed that the situation was under control without his help, so he “put away” the sword from his arm. He noticed three people- the Pascal girl from earlier, some man with a cigarette in his mouth (Why indoors???), and someone who looked… Strange. GIANT WINGS??? Pale? White haired? He didn’t look particularly old, his face was quire youthful. Ed raised his eyebrow.

 

Um, what’s going on here?” He was unsure how well he was going to be noticed, but this situation was significantly less hectic than the one in the main hall. And why was the white haired kid floating? He was too lazy to walk? Or did floating take more work? AGH. What kind of chimera looking thing was this? This world was getting strange and stranger!

 

 

~Lara~

 

Cicero ruffed at being pushed away. He curled up next to Stan’s arm, already loving his new friend. Lara rolled her eyes at Stan’s joke.

 

Charming. You’re quite the gentleman.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who kicked you? Need I grab a medipack?” She had a feeling that Stan did something stupid again. What he did, however, would probably remain a mystery. She knelt and gently touched the mark on his cheek, knitting her eyebrows with concern.

 

If it were enough to knock you unconscious like that, I’m worried about a minor concussion. Though with your thick skull, I’m not particularly concerned.” She snorted at that, amused at her own jab. Looking at the swell, though, she did feel that pain. That looked like it hurt.

Edited by Mikasa361
there. fixed.

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Jowan [ what even is shower? ]

 

Having to have everything (which Duke clearly considered to be normal) was somewhat embarrassing, but he supposed that accidentally breaking something would have been worse. It was worth it to see Duke’s ridiculous attempt at mimicking the sound that the toilet made. 

 

Things became much less amusing as Duke began to pile a seemingly endless stack of products into his arms. Nobles used a large array of oils, soaps, and perfumes of course, but he’d never heard of half of the items he was holding. He had more than a few questions (such as are there supposed to be so many of these?, am I supposed to smell like a fruit salad? and oh Andraste, I don’t want Nata to kill me, the last of which wasn’t a question but seemed relevant), but he doubted that he’d be able to understand anyway. “No, no questions, thank you.” 

 

With Duke gone, Jowan was left with the delicate task of somehow placing the stack of items down without dropping them. He somehow managed, though the soap nearly skittered into the tub. Next, he stripped off his filthy robes and threw them into the hamper. He would have burned them then and there, but there wasn’t enough ventilation and he doubted that ashes would be appreciated. 

 

He climbed into the shower, lifted the ‘hot’ lever, and pulled the knob as Duke had instructed- then leapt backward and cursed parts of Andraste’s anatomy. He reached through the scalding curtain to turn up the ‘cold’ lever and was met with an icy spray. That was hardly better, but at least it left him able to safely continue adjusting the temperature. It took longer than expected- the spray hardly seemed capable of reaching a midpoint between ‘burning’ and ‘the cold side of lukewarm’. Whatever was wrong with heating a tub of water with magic or fire? It seemed far simpler. 

 

Eventually he managed to make it comfortable, by which point his eyes were half sealed shut with water and his hair was plastered to his face. Squinting, he grabbed the bar of soap. That, at least, was familiar, and he was eager to get the blood and sweat off of his skin. He hesitated when it came time to wash his back, but the wounds had long since healed. Blood and soap swirled around his feet and down the drain. 

 

He was unfamiliar with the rest of the items that Duke had left him with, but fortunately they were labeled with instructions (along with names like “Minty Breeze” and “Almond Splash” and long ingredients lists that didn’t seem to have been translated). Even the bottles themselves were made of a strange, light, flimsy material. and it took him a shamefully long time to figure out how to open some of the lids. He wasn’t sure why he would want to scrub pomegranate seeds onto his skin or what ‘toner’ was supposed to do, but he decided that it was probably polite to use them. It wasn’t unpleasant, either, at least once he figured out how to keep the stinging shampoo from flowing into his eyes. 

 

It felt as though the shower had taken longer than it should have, but it had been far too long since he’d had the luxury of bathing. He took it as a good sign that no one had started yelling through the door for him to hurry up. After drying off, he wrapped the towel around himself and poked his head out the door, intending to ask Duke if he could borrow some clothes. Duke, however, hadn’t seemed to have returned. Odd. Hadn’t it been long enough? 

 

Jowan waited a few more minutes, but soon grew both worried and cold. Surely he hadn’t been forgotten. Duke was about the same height as he was and it would be possible to go look for him if he had clothes, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to borrow Duke’s clothes. It seemed likely, but the thought of guessing wrong caused a pit of anxiety to rise in his throat. It was such a minor thing, but he knew well to avoid touching the belongings of an authority figure without permission. Duke wasn’t one, not exactly, but the situation was similar enough for his mind to draw parallels. Steeling himself, he walked to Duke’s dresser and rummaged through the drawers until he found a pair of cotton pants and a long-sleeved shirt. They hung oddly on his bony frame, but they fit well enough. 

 

He exited the room and it hit him that he didn’t even know what floor the infirmary was on. Someone that knew had to be around somewhere, right? He picked a direction at random, which led to a staircase leading down. It seemed as likely a direction as anything else.

 

Jowan turned a corner and froze. The hallway was empty, but there were a few splatterings of blood on the floor. Someone had gotten hurt again. It explained why Duke was gone- whoever had left the blood had to have a more urgent injury than Jowan did. 

 

He bit his lip. The blood hadn’t completely dried yet, so whoever was injured likely still needed help. On the other hand, it was possible that the aggressor was still around. No, he had to help if he could. Hiding wasn’t necessarily safer, either. 

 

The blood trail was thin, but the drops were consistent enough for him to find his way to an open doorway. Inside, a person with blood up to their elbows stood pressing a wad of gauze onto a seated figure’s arm. He increased his pace, and the standing human’s eyes snapped to him. 
 
“Hold this,” they said in lieu of a greeting, jerking their head towards the gauze. 

 

Jowan complied, then caught sight of the injured person’s face. “Duke?! What ha-”


“No, tighter,” the stranger interrupted. “Hold it above his head- like that, stay there.” They left, and Jowan was torn between watching what they were doing and looking at Duke’s overly-pale face. 
 

Edited by Zor

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   XDRS - The Giant Garage

 

   Typheus was glad the armored human didn't prod him about his own origins, simply taking note of his name. His gaze followed the others' as a group of strangers passed nearby, though curiously enough they barely exchanged looks, save for the floating boy who had stared until he passed into the kitchen with them. Did humans have wings? He recalled seeing statues in a lawn covered by stones that had similar figures; winged people must have been alive at some point. He was equally as surprised to recognize Pascal, once overly enthusiastic about the machines, now trotting past as if blind. I wonder who that reminds me of, he thought sarcastically.

 

   Circuit transformed back into a vehicle and began rolling down the hall, switching his attention back to Xander, who was leaving. He proceeded to follow, albeit a bit awkwardly. He wasn't holding Fiddlesticks as well as he should be, and she was too heavy to keep up with anyway, so he ended up half-dragging her along. It wasn't the first time it had happened; at this point, it was pretty normal.
   Circuit slowed to an unexpected stop, letting Xander go on. A question lingered at the end of Typheus's speaker, but she spoke first: "I can carry her."
   His threads flooded with disbelief, and immediately he was reminded off all of the times Fiddlesticks smashed cars. He wanted to reject the offer, but at the same time, Circuit was a foreign entity. For all he knew she was supported with tiberium, or something better. Still though, he hesitated beside her, feeling conflicted.
   He finally lifted Fiddlesticks up, then placed her on Circuitraider's roof, laying her parallel to the machine. He cringed at the creaking of suspension, but there was no screaming, so... she drove off.
   He was pleasantly surprised into speechlessness. He then picked up the pace to stay beside her, keeping a hand on Fiddlesticks so she wouldn't roll off at the turns.

 

   Xander led them through the base before he stopped from another human showing up. At first it seemed he was just being let by, until Xander greeted him and explained the situation.
   Typheus remained silent and thoughtful when Yusei offered to do repairs. So he must be the engineer here; that must be what the gadget on his arm is for. The mech was distrustful since there was no way to prove that Yusei would know what he was doing, but followed willingly anyway as he tooked them back outside, where Circuit transformed again to stand on her own feet, miraculously still holding Fiddlesticks throughout the process.
   Typheus kept his amazed compliment to himself. It's just one surprise after another out here...! Maybe, with any luck, the X-Dreamers could help with the fiasco with Zirhon... and not the giant "war" between those high powers, the IR and the Apex. At this point that was just a political stunt, a thorn to keep everyone busy and throw resources and money into a black hole. No, maybe they would help the rebels, and him and his charges could go home without giant targets on their backs...
   Ridiculous, he dismissed the thought, I can't expect them to want to be involved. I don't even want to be involved. He then briefly wondered if Circuit's situation was any different. Her big war was at least honest about its motives, that was for sure...

 

   He was roused from his thoughts when the group arrived to a large garage, long enough for several separate workspaces. Circuitraider had placed Fiddlesticks down on the floor, and Yusei hooked up a computer to her. Not anything new to Typheus, but he watched suspiciously over the human's shoulder, knowing what it was capable of.
   Luckily, Yusei had merely tried a ping, before ushering him over. "I'll need your help. I don't want to make a mistake on your friend."
   The fact that we haven't woken her back up yet is a mistake, he thought solemnly, knowing her internal clock was still going. He walked over to take a closer look at the screen.
   ...It was blank. Expected, since Xinschi-uual code typically didn't know what to do with any commands other than its own.
   "What are you trying to do?" he asked.
   "Diagnostics check," Yusei answered, his voice just as barren of emotion. "I don't understand the language though. I'll need your help to translate your code."
   Typheus just looked pointedly at the keyboard, and its lack of Xinschi keys, uncertain on how exactly he was going to help with this. It would help with trust connections if at least one person at this base could write the code, but without even the proper keys or a good way to translate he was pretty lost. Yusei then stood up and went behind his chair, staring expectantly at Typheus.
   He stared back. How... was he going to explain this? "You're missing qued-alpha, si, te-si, and this weird squiggly-thing"?
   Well, rather than make a bunch of libraries to mimic those functions, maybe he'll just supplement the math with what's already in his head. One option would be to hack Fiddlesticks during the process to parse the commands and log them, but it would be better in the long run if he just gave Yusei the libraries he needed.


   "Here," he offered, opening up his emitters and looking at the computer to upload the files. "The libraries aren't translated, but all you need to do is load them. Luckily we have some spare loops from the last time we were plugged into computers." Once the transfer was complete he told Yusei the commands he needed to use, then crouched down by Fiddlesticks. He intended to wake up her up once the diagnostics started, then immobilize her; the less time missing from her "memories", the better.
 

((Logging in IC: godmodding was permitted))

Edited by skwerl56767

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Pascal -- Kitchen

 

"Really?!?! You can cook and bake?" Pascal echoed, completely starstruck and clapping her hands in excitement. "Make a feast, make a feast! And don't forget to make banana pie! Then I'll be able to work at 100%! or 300%!"

 

Bounding over to the fridge -- that magic ice-box that still fascinated half the crew -- she peeked inside to look at its contents. A pile of leftover meat which looked like someone carefully took the bones out and then didn't feel like eating anymore, a couple apples, some stray onions, milk....

 

"There's like, a pond," she described to Yuki while taking things out of the refrigerator, borderline throwing the assorted vegetables over her shoulder and onto the counter. "Lara's been asking for a pool, but the pond is enough of a pool! You can swim in it! But I've only seen frogs and little fish in it. Not even enough for a snack," she sighed, disappointed that nothing in that body of water was edible, but that didn't curb her good mood of being promised something good to eat.

 

Flinging open the freezer with the same amount of upbeat enthusiasm, observing the ice cream, and pulling out a frozen banana, she reported to Sanji: "None of us can really cook so, there's rice and flower and beans in the pantry and a dozen cans of stuff in there. We're gonna have to go shopping for ingredients soon, especially since there's so many more new people who came today!"

 

 

Stan -- Gateway

 

She touched him on the cheek, and he stopped himself from leaning away. The contact was soothing and for a minute, he forgot where he was, opting to stare in silence, lost in his memories. Despite her rough exterior, she really was a gentle woman when it came down to it.

 

Then her interrogation came, breaking the spell. "The guy who smashed my beautiful face was a guy with a weird eyebrow, like this," Stan replied, demonstrating by drawing a curl on his forehead, from the tip of an eyebrow to his temple. "I think. I only saw him when he was dealing with a nosebleed, and after he hit and ran. Can't tell for sure." He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, shaking his head. "Apparently he got all hoity toity because I was sweet talkin' his girlfriend or somethin'."

 

"And thank you for your concern about my intelligence," he added, stealing a glance at Cicero and quickly looking away, pretending he had no interest in the puppy. "I'll be fine. Please don't bring the dog on the mission."

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Yusei | Mechanical Psychological Analysis

 

Something opened on the underside of the mech’s head. At the same time, the pilot spoke. Libraries and loops. They weren’t exactly the solution Yusei was thinking of but, glancing at the computer and resuming his seat, he figured they would do just fine.

 

From the corner of his gaze, he watched the machine move and crouch. He followed the pilot’s instructions, keying the commands into the computer. This time, the software was responding, running through the list of systems as it checked for any damages.

 

The technology seemed advanced, perhaps a few decades ahead of New Domino’s. Yusei was not a historian nor an anthropologist. However, he did take after his parents in pursuing science, even when he wasn’t aware of it as a child.

 

Briefly, he stole a glance at the purple machine. It simply sat on the ground, back to the far wall of the garage. So far, it hadn’t said a word and he wondered if it could talk. The mouth on its face suggested it could. It stared back at him with bright blue eyes.

 

Returning his attention to the computer, he parsed the foreign language and symbols. It didn’t appear as if any systems were in need of repair. Something about… hibernation. As the computer finished its check, Yusei turned to the bronze mech, moving closer to the damages in its hull. Lightly, he brushed his gloved hand against the metal around the jagged edges, examining the material and the cables.

 

There was something… He focused on the silence of the individuals, the lack of organic presence. Hibernation… Yusei understood now.

 

Stepping away, he walked towards a set of cases, rummaging through a few drawers before returning with tools. “What happened to your pilots?” he asked casually, as if striking up a conversation about the weather or sports. He set the tools on the ground as he knelt next to the damaged machine, leaning forward faintly and starting the physical repairs.

 

...The machine was staring at him. It had a sort of warning intensity to it, like he had asked the most sacred question of all.

“Do you really want to know?” it asked him.

 

He didn’t look up from his work, only glancing sideways to ensure he swapped the proper tools. The machine didn’t answer him directly. Either it was hoping to avoid the subject or intending to prepare Yusei for something that might be unsettling. A small smirk tugged the corner of his mouth in the faintest movement.

 

Finally, he looked up and met the machine’s single eye, his own gaze steady and unyielding. “You’re a sentient creation, then. You’re not running on preset programs and shuffling through automatic responses to address various situations,” he stated. “Do you want me to know?” he returned. “And do you want help getting them back?”

 

Something about the way its eye’s brightness intensified made it look annoyed. It looked down at the bronze machine for a moment, thoughtful. At first it seemed like it wouldn’t give a straight answer again, but then it said:

“She does.” It paused, then added, “It gets complicated.” The machine watched the repairs for a bit as Yusei began working on the arm with the large slit in it. “Honestly, I don’t think we should involve anyone else. I barely know anyone here, and you all have your own problems.” At that, it looked over its shoulder - in a sense - at the purple machine.

 

Understanding, Yusei briefly followed the mech’s gaze before returning his own to its companion. The duelist was familiar with that way of thinking. Perhaps painfully so. He fell silent, offering no immediate response as he turned to the computer again. “Besides Xander, who have you met so far?”

 

He needed a better impression of the machines and, with the bronze one unresponsive, Yusei would have to lean on the silver one. The purple machine was another puzzle he would work on later. The drastic differences between their designs didn’t tell him they came from the same source. Body language only supported the idea.


She… They had identities, rooted into their sentience. Like the monsters in his deck.

 

((Little bit of a collaboration!))

Edited by ValidEmotions
Caught a typo :v

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~Lara~

 

When Stan made the gesture indicating the assailant’s curled eyebrows, Lara sighed in annoyance. She knew exactly who Stan was talking about, and did not appreciate this new information one bit. Lara didn’t want to risk him getting kicked again if the other man caught them exchanging banter or something. No, she would make sure to lay down the law- what if he tried to kick someone else for interacting with one of the other women? If this was a pattern she needed to go by… But at Stan's little indignant comment, she let out a low chuckle, indicating that her mood was lifted.

 

Now Stan, you know I kid.” Lara sighed with amusement. “I mean, what, do you want me to kiss it better?” She allowed her touch to linger for another second, eyebrows once again drawing close to one another. Damn, that had to have hurt. If he has a concussion, he’ll be out of commission for a while. Damn shame. The less people we have for upcoming missions… 
She frowned and drew her hand away, placing two fingers to her temple in annoyance. “I know who kicked you. In fact, I bumped into him before I came over here. Apparently he and some- er… winged-angel child were trying to eavesdrop on something. He offered to cook me whatever I wanted, same for Cicero.” Lara sighed. And called me “sweetie”. Lord knows how many pet names I’ve been called. “Kitten”, for instance. Annoying as it was, she had learned to keep her grievances of those names to herself. “His name is Sanji. And from what I can tell, judging by his blatant flirting and jealousy against other men, he definitely loves his women.” Lara chuckled, reaching over Stan to pat Cicero’s head. Cicero had parked himself on Stan’s other side, nipping at the little flowers in the soft grass and placing some on Stan’s chest.

 

Cicero stop eating the grass. No.” Lara carefully tapped his nose to show that wasn’t a good idea.

I won’t bring him on the mission, don't worry. So, what is going on with this mission? Is there anything I need to go grab while I’m bringing Cicero to the castle?” Lara leaned back on her heels, placing her hands in her lap in a relaxed position. Cicero, on his stomach, dragged himself across the grass to lay by his mama. Lara smiled and rubbed his head, expecting Stan’s reply.

Edited by Mikasa361

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Masala and Philip (Gateway)

 

Masala stared deadpanned at this creature. “I'm not a fairy, I'm a normal fighting type.” Fairy king? Giving now what seemed to be a puzzled look, the Stufful had to think it over. “Well, it depends on if you're talking about the legendary Pokémon Xerneas. I know that one is a pure fairy type but they don't have a gender so I don't think that's who you're talking about.”

 

Looking over, she felt her breath hitch. “Is that...a human!?” she barked in surprise, looking back at the creature. Now it made sense! He wasn't an Aegislash, he was a human wearing whatever that was. “Oh my Arceus! I thought humans were just folklore and myths!”

 

Philip had straightened up, listening to the conversation, very much aware that they were talking about him. That was until the small cute animal got excited over them being humans. He placed his weapon and bell back down, this time leaning his weapon against the tree before looking back at them. He gave a small shy wave.

 

He hoped the guy wouldn't come over and start barking orders. That would be the last thing he needed.

 

~~~

 

Ruby (somewhere outside)

 

She was upset, Ruby decided as she lost sight of everyone. She had looked up to a particular looking tree and slept for a bit. She didn't mean to, it just happened and now she couldn't find anyone as she looked around. Deciding flight was necessary at the moment, she took wing, flying to the castle before circling and landing by what looked like to be the entrance.

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Light ~ Library ~ Making....

 

Wolfbo--Fushi looks with wide eyes; first at where she palmed her key, then at the black flute she was presenting to him. As she had spoke, she could tell something she shown him put him deep in thought, and he started a bit when she finish. I wonder what he was thinking of? What's his story? He can control such powerful magic and seems to learn so fast... What made him follow me? He seems so innocent, even more than I was before... Light clinched a hand and looked away, feeling as if someone had put a frosty hand around her heart.

 

"Make," Fushi said. Light waited, but only a look of consternation came over his features--The look was gone as his eyes widened and he grinned--or just showed her his teeth. The two side teeth were sharp, unlike other humans--but then again, he is a shapeshifter, he can probably make himself look like what he wants--and he pointed at them before saying "Fushi eat, then make." 

 

"Ohhhh...." Light retracted her arm, nodding a few times before taking the red cord her key was attached to and tying it back onto her flute before slipping both back into a sleeve pocket. He did take a bite out of that book first... Not a good idea to have him eat a flute just to satisfy personal curiosity, then. I still don't know what this flute is made out of anyway. "Okay. Then can you make another of the same book?" Would he catch all that? Light held up the book he made seconds ago. "Again?"

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Sora | Let’s get lost!

 

Clasping his hands together behind his head, Sora walked almost lazily. He grinned as Evonna claimed her room with a hair tie on the doorknob. “We can look for the library first or just work our way up from the first floor. Thoughts?” he questioned.

 

“Hey,” he started after several moments. “What universe do you come from?” he inquired, curious. “I’m from Destiny Islands, a world located in a universe filled with other worlds that don’t know the rest exist,” Sora explained. Moving his hands from his head, he stretched his arms upward before letting them fall back down to his sides.

 

He missed the Islands. Being asleep for a year… He wondered if anything had changed back at home. Did his mother even know he was gone? Sora glanced at Evonna, wondering about her memories and the world she came from. Was it being attacked by Heartless too? Or Nobodies?

 

The boy let his thoughts drift towards the Nobodies, towards the Dusk that roamed the hallways here. Yusei didn’t seem like a bad person, not like Maleficent or Pete or any of the other villains he and his friends had encountered. And, if he was part of this… extradimensional… something-or-other group, then he was a good guy. Right? At least, Twilight and Nata seemed okay with the man.

 

So, should he trust Yusei’s judgement about the Dusk?

 

Sora wasn’t very certain. It went against what Yen Sid taught him, what Mickey understood of the Heartless and Organization XIII. However, the Dusk - Hush, he supposed - wasn’t harming anyone. It seemed like the worse it was doing was making a mess everywhere. That and hissing at Sora for whatever reason. The boy frowned, furrowing his brow slightly.

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~Evonna~

 

! Huh? Oh. Uh… Wherever, I guess.” Evonna was so overwhelmed by how vast the place was. She had no idea that a place other than the Academy could be so luxe and spacious. It was truly wonderful to see that she had all of these nooks and crannies to go read in if she wanted. Maybe if they had a nice kitchen… No. Not possible… Was it? No, it needed to be. All these beings in one space? But would they have the proper materials...

 

Evonna wanted to run and hide. She didn’t understand what the appeal about being social was. Then again, she initiated with him. It was such a rare occasion, though, that she had no idea what came over her when she decided to talk. And usually for her, even if she tried to talk, people gave brusque answers and turned their backs, never wanting anything to do with her again. In Heaven’s Gate…. It was just so different. Maybe it was because they had to talk to me, but… They were so willing to let me in. I had… True friends to call my own. Evonna sighed and looked at Sora, thinking of how to word her response. She was worried, truth be told. What if I respond the wrong way? Will he shrug me off like a blanket?

 

I… Um… I come from a world with this school… It’s called Heaven’s Gate… Uh….” Her hazel eyes glanced to the side, trying to keep a still face. She had no idea what would happen if she allowed her emotions to show. Still, he seems like a nice kid. Open to hearing about where I’m from… It’s kind of nice. To hear someone other than Mom and Dad, Jehan and his friends, or someone from school be genuinely interested… Evonna Estelle Rosine Durand, stop reading too much into situations! He literally just asked you where you were from. Calm yourself down, damn it.But originally I’m from a place called France. I was adopted and moved to another place called Canada… Uh… I learned to speak French because of it. It’s a nice language..” Damn you Durand, why must you open up too much. Why are you like this.

 

Evonna focused her gaze to the floor and expected a response from Sora. The two began to go down the stairs, no idea where they were going. Evonna heard some noises going on nearby. She raised her eyebrow in curiosity.

 

~Edward~

 

Edward did not appreciate being ignored the way he was. Still, he tried to shrug off the anger and watched what was going on in the kitchen. He watched as the tall blonde man was running around the kitchen, excitedly chopping up fruits and sending commands to the floating chimera creature. Seriously, what the hell is with the wings? He poked into the kitchen a little further, impressed by how well the fruit was cut. But this man was going on and on about how well he could cook--- oh.

 

He was impressed with the blowtorch that the man used- it was definitely a useful looking tool. He had to get one of those to replace Colonel Mustang- it was definitely less noisy. When the man was done making whatever it was he was making, he finally cleared his throat.

 

Let me ask again. What is going on in here?

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Arch - ??? to Gateway

 

He had made a mistake, perhaps the worst mistake of his life.

 

Lungs filling with dust, Arch coughed profusely as he tried to wave away the clearing cloud of dirt that obscured his vision. He attempted to clear his throat but it was still raw from all the dirt he had choked on. Arch glanced back at his wings, squinting his eyes as he gently flapped them to assure that they were still in working order. It didn’t seem as though he had sustained significant damage, but he was tired, oh so tired. A giggle diverted Arch’s attention back to the source of his exhaustion. From within the dispersing cloud of dirt, Arch could make out the silhouette of what appeared to be a young girl, but he knew better than to think the girl was harmless. The girl’s appearance slowly came into view as the cloud disappeared, revealing her long blond hair and mismatched colored eyes.

 

“I would have expected better from an esteemed angel such as yourself,” the demon cooed, her eyes glittering like gems as long, spindly appendages emerged from her back. Arch glowered at the girl, his hand twitching towards Sherrkyle despite him knowing that his stamina was far too depleted for him to actually use it.


“Viska,” Arch spat, disgust oozing out of the single name. “Killing me won’t change the fact that your days are numbered.” There wasn’t much Arch could do beyond taunt the demon. He was far too fatigued to attack and considering that he had left the comfort of his home at 3 am in the morning, any possible backup was still fast asleep.

Viska, likely sensing Arch’s weakness, grinned at him sweetly.


“A nice sentiment for a dead man,” she said twirling a golden curl around her finger. “Y’know, I usually go for other demons, but I suppose an angel would make a nice snack, don’t you know?” Arch paled at Viska’s words, but refuse to give Viska the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. His fingers had curled around Sherrkyle’s handle, but what good was the bow if he couldn’t muster the strength to lift it? There was nothing he could do in the current situation. He was alone, too weak to fight back, and at the mercy of a creature, he was supposed to have defeated least cause more meaningless deaths. He had failed; he was given one job and he had found himself in the clutches of a demon.

 

Viska took a step closing, her spiky appendages inching closer to Arch’s neck. The angel lifted his chin, defiance sparking in his eyes as he stared the demon down. He would not die without dignity. He refused to let a demon take away his last shred of pride. A light, dazzling and warm, flooded Arch’s vision just as Viska’s spikes began teasing his throat. The image of russet hair and a gentle smile appeared in Arch’s mind. The corner of his mouth twitched upward and he let the light take him.

 

--

 

When he was a younger, less experience angel, Arch had heard stories of the afterlife angels and demons wandered to once their bodies had been claimed by the clutches of time. He had heard stories about such an afterlife, most of which were abstract concepts of what death for an angel, beings that resided in the heavens, could possibly look like. For whatever reason, Arch never expected there to be marigolds.

 

Arch’s eyes fluttered open, his lips parting as he breathed out a soft gasp. His fingers gently brushed against his neck where the phantom pain from Viska’s spikes still lingered. He could not recall Viska ending his life nor did he think his body would still ache, albeit not as intensely as before if he was truly in the afterlife. Arch pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing as he tried to adjust his wings properly against his back. Sherrkyle, strangely enough, was still in his possession. Arch glanced down at the bow, tightening his grasp on it as he slowly stood to his feet.

 

It was obvious that he was nowhere near the rocky field that Viska had cornered him in. Arch’s glanced around, taking in the sight of the flowers, the grand stones towering over them, and the expansive night sky. Arch craned his neck up, allowing himself a brief moment to admire the beauty and majesty of such a wondrous night sky. It was strange, it did not appear to be nighttime and yet Arch could see the stars as clearly now as he could when he was in the heavens. That, of course, could not be the case. Arch would know if he had returned home--the heavens, he had a new home--and this most certainly wasn’t home. If that was the case, where was he? How did he get here?

 

Rolling his shoulders, Arch decided that the best way to figure out where he had ended up was to survey his surroundings. Four massive wings unfurled as Arch launched himself into the air, flapping delicately in the air before gently landing on top of one of the rocks surrounding the marigolds. His wings settled on his back, allowing him to balance himself on the rock as he scanned the horizon. There appeared to be a building of some sorts not too far off. Arch could spot the distinguishable shapes of various people (and animals?) scattered across the grassy plain. Arch wasn’t sure if any of them were natives since he had no idea where he was, but he figured that talking to someone would be better than nothing. At the very least, he could learn where he was and figure out how to get home from there.

 

Gently floating off the rock, Arch brushed away a strand of hair covering his face and began to trek towards the building in the distance.

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   XDRS - Some Added Confusion

 

   Typheus observed Yusei for a bit longer, still wary of trusting him, before deciding he had idled enough in waking Fiddlesticks up.
   "I'm going to wake her. She might jerk," he warned Yusei. He looked down into his partner's dark eye, keeping one hand on her.
   ...It was still empty in her head, with only the dimly-glowing ball floating in the darkness. Despite him not seeing any active threads, Typheus still ran the organization protocol so he could guess the location of her sleep state. He then darted off into the void, patiently waiting for some kind of "impact" to tell him he found something.
   There. He stopped when he found it. The unseen function had a slight tingling around it from Circuitraider's hack. He sent it a positive bit, rose a firewall up around her mobility functions to keep her from moving, and patiently waited.
   There was a flash in the distance, and he looked at it in concern. Did something fry-?
   Typheus?

   Fiddlesticks!

   ...You know, when people say that I think they're trying to politely curse.

   Typheus couldn't help but laugh. The humans ruined you, huh?

   I guess so... she said, not sounding very happy. Immediately he knew why, and flew over to the front of her consciousness while bright spots of light started popping out of the darkness.

   Don't worry, nothing is broken, he reported, Circuitraider knew what she was doing.

   'Circuitraider'? Fiddlesticks echoed, a hint of resentment slipping in. That thing has a name?

   Yes, he said flatly.

   Oh, how nice.

 

   He glared at her for a moment, before figuratively slapping her with a power surge.

   OW! she yelped. She tried to retaliate, but he dodged the counter.

   Stop being passive-aggressive! Or ANY kind of aggressive! he berated her.

   Why?! Fiddlesticks retorted.

   She's our ally!

   She HACKED me!!

   Typheus's physical body twitched, and he fell silent for a moment. He couldn't blame her for being mad about it, but she was actually reacting better than he expected.

   Fiddlesticks darted to the back of her mind, sulking, knowing she couldn't convince him of anything once he made up his mind. Typheus followed her, uncertain of what to say. The opportunity to have an inter-dimensional alliance on the rebels' side was too good of a chance to lose, but Fiddlesticks had too much fight in her. Everything new she has tried to destroy at least once, especially after... the incident with her pilot.

 

   Look... he began, I know you don't really trust these people. The one human is probably terrified of you now, considering you almost ate him. So lean on my word for this alliance, all right? We need all of the fighters we can find.

   If the chaotic darting of her new threads was anything to go by, she wasn't pleased by the offer. They had a mutual agreement to not peek at each other's thought though, so Typheus was forced to sit and wait for a response, hoping the logic overrode her distrust.

   ...Fine, she said, now focusing on him. He looked around her consciousness, at the streams of light as threads flew all over the place. It was hard to read her emotions when this was considered normal...

   You're sure? he asked.

   Yes, I'm fine.

   Typheus didn't believe her, but made no comment, pulling out of the hack so he could check on Yusei's progress.

   WAIT!

   He paused. What?

   I need to tell you something.

 

   Immediately Typheus started questioning his decision to stay. He could have just left and claimed he didn't hear her in time, because who knows what random nonsense or weird fact or-

   What about the disappearing machine?

   His worry was abruptly cut off by bafflement. What? he repeated. What disappearing machine?

   The purple one! That 'Circuitraider'.

   He still had no idea what she was talking about. Fiddlesticks would make arbitrary comments before, and he would just pretend to be listening to her because trying to fathom her logic was cumbersome. It was easier to just entertain her.

   Well, it will at least give Yusei some extra time, he thought in exasperation. Okay, what about Circuitraider? She does turn into a car, he reasoned.

   Noooo, Fiddlesticks hummed, she disappears! They disappear! See, look. She brought up a visual, several memories and a simulation to try and prove her point. He was skeptical of it all, but as she explained on and on about how some random things she caught glimpses of fit Circuit's description, he began to have doubts. Fiddlesticks, too, after learning about the vehicular form, was drawing an extra connection to vehicles she had seen before then never saw again even after passing through the same area. He had assumed her reports were benign, just stray humans venturing into the quarantined zones to retrieve their belongings; they did trash a significant portion of a city, after all. Yet... maybe all of this had to do with zeitgeist-infused things being displaced from their dimensions? Were all of these "disappearing machines" displaced zeitgeists?

   Oh, speaking of, he should probably tell her about that...

 

   Typheus patiently waited for an opening to tell her about the zeitgeists, but Fiddlesticks was getting excited, and was now rambling about... Zirhon?

   What do you mean they went to Zirhon?! he blurted out, catching up to her story.

   Have you even been listening?! she raged for a moment.  I SAID the metal-armed man met a Code Orange! Or thinks the whole planet is Code Oranges! Or something!

   You mean Stan? he said in puzzlement. Stan came back from a mission. See, these people-

   She cut off his explanation: They've been to ZIRHON! We're so close to going back home!

   Is that why you're ignoring the alliance? he questioned, Because you want to go back to Zirhon?

   Well... Fiddlesticks faltered. We don't have the crystal yet... so no. Besides, you're the one here who wants to be all buddy-buddy!

   Don't get off-topic! Typheus snapped, before giving his physical head a small shake. Okay, so wait, they came from Zirhon. How do you know this?

   Stan mentioned metal-benders and Code Oranges. I think he also had sand on his clothes.

   'Metal-benders' could mean anything.

   But doesn't it fit the description of an engineer, or a Maintenance or Support model?

   I doubt Stan doesn't know what an engineer is.

   Who said someone else didn't give him that arm?! They said they're inter-dimensional!

   Typheus huffed. It was like she was finding all of the tiniest holes in the armor to prove her point, and the annoying part was that the plausibility was there!

   Fine, so let's say they've been there, Typheus played along, even though he knew the details of Stan's report and how they didn't match up with his home world. What do you plan on doing about it?

 

   Well... She again faltered into notes of uncertainty, and this time didn't have a passionate response to give. Typheus waited a bit, before taking the opportunity to explain the "zeitgeists" and the reason X-Dreamers was inter-dimensional. She listened in silence, only speaking up after he finished telling her about the planned mission to return.

   So... they find these 'anchors', and put them back, and they're about to go to Zirhon to find an anchor there? she said.

   What you THINK it Zirhon, Typheus corrected.

   It IS Zirhon!

   You haven't even seen the screenshots!

   Fine, so what if it isn't? Better than sitting back here with nothing to do, she argued, her high-pitched voice making her sound adorably pouty; it was hard to not laugh at her. We'll go and help!

   Wha - but they've probably left by now! Typheus pointed out.

   We'll just catch up!

   His consciousness balled up in discontent, suppressing a growl. Why are you like this?!

   Because I don't trust that man. He said 'Code Orange'! How can we expect him to be telling the truth? Maybe he's deliberately omitting facts.

   WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?

   I DON'T KNOW LET'S JUST GO ALREADY!

 

   Fiddlesticks, you're-! Typheus began, but Fiddlesticks already tried to move. He stiffened up when she threw herself at his mass firewall.

   What... why can't I move? Tyypheeeuuus! she complained, fighting with the firewall.

   Stop it! You're just getting repairs, that's all, he said, shaking his head and nearly breaking the connection.

   Neeehheheheghhhh!

   Stop. He flew over to her consciousness and tried to hold her back before she found a hole in the blockage. She just wriggled in excitement.

   Yeeee!

   By Carace, you're like a psychotic child... Typheus muttered, Just DON'T MOVE right away, okay? Yusei might be one of those healers that stabs you when you're not compliant.

   Who? Is that his name...? Fiddlesticks's voice faded away as he pulled out of the hack, consequently lowering the firewall. Thankfully, Fiddlesticks was still lying limp. Her eye was still dim, until she came to and looked up at him, lighting it up in recognition; and, miraculously, she remained immobile.

   He just broke eye contact and sighed, checking on Yusei's progress. Maybe Fiddlesticks would start acting mature again once she realized the mission wasn't what she thought it was. At the very least, it would keep her occupied, rather than leaving here to potentially wreck the base in boredom.

   "So... do you know where the X-Dreamers start their missions?" he asked him. "She's itching to go. Apparently." He looked accusingly at Fiddlesticks, who refrained from twitching excitedly. The LOGARITHMS in her head...

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[ not afraid to stir the waters : theo -- ; ]

 

"For the last time," a voice says, and Theo spins around. He can feel the smooth handle of his dual spears in his grasp, the lightning crackling against his skin, and light blue eyes narrow just as the sky above him seems to shimmer and distort, the clouds curling inwards just as a man appears to walk out of the shadows.

 

His handsome face is unusually exasperated, his brows furrowed above his dual-coloured eyes. In his open palm, floating in the seemingly weightless air, is the dimensional key, the secret to spatial travel, Magnus Fille.

 

"It doesn't work that way," Nyx says, and he sounds rather tired -- frustrated, with a hint of amusement. There is a smear of dirt marring his left cheek, and Theo smirks -- so his hits had landed, after all. It didn't matter how much it took, or how long they would battle -- he would split the heavens into pieces for answers, break the skies until Nyx could no longer travel across the dimensions. 

 

"I know it was you," Theo replies, straightening up. "Arch disappears without so much as a message, or a trace -- who else is capable of deleting another person entirely?" His eyes narrow, and the mention of the angel sends a shockwave of red lightning across the skies, his internal grief reflected in the destructive lightning rained down on the burnt trees and dead lands around them. 

 

Nyx hums instead, the sword in his hand twirling against his fingertips, the sharp ends lightly brushing his gloved hands. "Have you ever considered another school of thought?"

 

"What?"

 

"Such as, you know, the guy claiming his innocence despite the fact this is the fourth time you've attacked him out of the blue might actually be free of any crimes?"

 

"Third," Theo corrects absentmindedly. "The second time you attacked me."

 

"Because you jumped, screaming loudly, at a small child."

 

"Luna is not a child!" Annoyed, Theo clicks the ends of his spears together, forming the complete Legios -- his actions are accompanied by the rumbling of thunderclouds overhead, just as he points his weapon directly at the mage. "Tell me where he is, now."

 

Nyx sighs, looking suddenly world-weary. "Have you ever considered that he might have just gotten tired of your constant screaming?" Then, without hesitation, he pulls back the folds of his cape, and Theo catches sight of his clothing.

 

What terrible colour palettes, he thinks just as millions of swords suddenly rush him from all sides, and Theo barely manages to lift up his weapons to cover his face before he is overtaken by the swarm of blades.

 

He feels the sharp edges cut easily through his clothing, against his skin -- and he is bleeding, but this nothing; nothing compared to the hoards of demons he fought in the past, and now he cannot die. He lost once, was overwhelmed in battle once, and lost Jane as a result -- never again.

 

"Legios!" The call is accompanied with lightning, red light bursting through the swarms of blades against his skin. Electricity dances in his blood, and Theo feels the energy from the surrounding world converted into his adrenaline, just as he spins his spear around in his hands, a bolt of pure energy formed in his fingertips as he thrusts the blade towards Nyx. 

 

Just as the blade is about to leave his fingers, Theo feels the energy dissipate from his body with unusual quickness, and he wonders -- a trap? With who? He did not take Nyx as one to play foul tricks -- 

 

A flash of white surrounds his vision just as he screams out, promising to seek revenge on the dimensional wizard for his trap. However, if Nyx replies, he never hears it.

 

--

 

As it turns out, he ends up throwing the spear, anyways.

 

"Aaaa!" His subsequent yell echoes into his new location, his momentum driving the spear from his fingers before Theo was able to fully think and comprehend his actions. The bolt of lightning streaks through the sky, bloody red against the clear blue sky, diving straight into the clouds above. A beautiful arc is made through the spear travelling across the skies, just as the electricity contained within the weapon crackles against the white clouds. The weather shifts abruptly, thunder rumbling through the skies and collected clouds, and Theo watches as his spear flies through the air and straight towards the turned back of a person --

 

An angel?

 

That realisation sends a painful jolt of memories through Theo's mind, and he thinks -- perhaps -- could it be? But Arch has told him there are others of his kind, he cannot hope that the universe would align so perfectly as to grant him his wishes after nearly a month of the other gone missing, and what -- what if -- 

 

What if he had just left? 

 

Nyx's words echo in his mind, and for a second, Theo is frozen -- but that is not important, not right now, not when there is a streak of lightning heading directly --

 

Oh no. 

 

He brushes a streak of blood from his cheek, internally promising to find Nyx in the dead of night and tear up his stupid cape, and takes off running, full speed. 

 

"Duck!" he yells, and then realises that might be impolite -- he remembers how much of a pain Arch had been about manners at the very beginning, too --

 

"PLEASE DUCK!!" he reaffirms, just as the spear lands on the ground, spreading a shockwave of red light across the grass, scorching the flowers in its wake. 

 

 

 

(( luna is totally a child ))

 

Edited by taire
i blame discord

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Arch - Gateway

 

He had taken no more than ten steps away from the bed of marigolds and already Arch could hear a war cry sound from behind him. Normally, Arch would simply roll his eyes and deal with the threat as quickly as possible. Normally, the voice wasn’t one he recognized. Normally, Arch’s heart wouldn’t still. Red lightning bloomed in the sky, the arcing bolts splitting through the once serene sky and coloring it a deep, startling red. Arch stared at the reddening sky, mesmerized by the lightning that paints over the once clear sky. A yell from behind reminded Arch that yes, he knows where that lightning came from and yes, it’s as dangerous as it looks and he should probably—

 

Wings snapped open, Arch darted out of the way just in time for a blurry streak of red to blow past him. The intense heat emitting from the bolt nearly seared Arch’s skin, eliciting an involuntary shudder out of him. Arch, realizing that he’d been breathing heavily, tried to catch his breath as he turned his head to locate the source of the lightning. He should have been ashamed when his breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat as soon as eyes landed on his attacker. It was clear from the moment Arch heard a yell that his assailant was none other than Theo.

 

Instinctually, Arch’s body began to relax at the sight of his beloved, but he forced himself to remain alert. He hadn’t honed his skills to a fine point just to let his guard down around an enemy. Arch frowned at the thought as he tightened his grip on Sherrkyle. When had he begun to think of Theo as an enemy? A desperate look at this surroundings confirmed that the bolt had clearly been aimed at him and not someone or something nearby, but Theo couldn’t possibly be attacking Arch, right? Logically, Arch knew he couldn’t trust the foreign land he had been transported to. For all he knew the Theo before he was just an illusion conjured by a skilled wizard who decided the best way to put Arch out of commission was to use his emotions against him.

 

Unfortunately, that thought proved to be true.

 

“Theo?” Arch spoke in the most composed tone he could manage. He hated the tremor in his voice just as he hated how his chest tightened and his trembling hand that couldn’t stop shaking no matter how much he willed it to. Arch swallowed against a lump that formed in his throat. He lifted his chin, trying to make himself look as intimidating as possible least Theo—or an illusion of Theo for all Arch knew—could see past his facade. He didn’t know where he was or what had happened, but Arch did know that if his assumption rang true and Theo had attacked him, he would do everything in his power to protect himself even if it meant ignoring his aching heart. After all, angels always put the mission first and if Theo stood in the way of Arch's survival then Arch would do what he must.

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Hush, Child of Void

((I'll probably do my colors in the morning.))

 

After realizing Yusei had better things to do, Hush decided to leave him be for a bit.

 

He looks kinda busy right now. Maybe I'll go see if I can make some friends.

 

But no matter how much he tried to put it out of his mind, his thoughts came back to the Keyblade bearer again.

 

He was a killer. A powerful force, capable of releasing fallen hearts. He should have been an ally of the Organization, and yet he turned away from his own kind. Could the witch's spell have possibly taken away so much of his memory?

 

... I guess I'll go talk to him.

 

Hush opened a Corridor of Darkness and found Sora, talking with a girl in the upstairs hallways. He averted his eyes, but addressed them both.

 

"Talk with me?"

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[ i'm a fool in a man's shoes : theo -- ; ]

 

Theo halts in his steps, his mind instantly frozen just as his name had left Arch's lips.


No -- no -- 

 

This was impossible.

 

The knight blinks, his weapons frozen at his sides, and Theo feels a tremour echo throughout his body, clear in the way his eyes, wide and unblinking fixate on the person before him.

 

So long -- he has waited so long to hear his name called once more, to hear the smooth slide of Arch's voice against his ear and his arms around his body, his wings -- the feathers scattering across his skin -- 

 

He is overwhelmed by a flurry of memories, too intense and too passionate for Theo to organize into anything coherent, and the pain is fresh, the anxieties of a month spent searching for his beloved after he had woken up one day, with the sun across his face and the blankets around his waist, only to find the angel missing. 

 

However, this is nothing like the reunion he dreamt of; instead of approaching Arch, he is frozen in place. His eyes flicker down to Sherrkyle, always at the angel's side, his slim, domineering form, the shadows cast by the four grand wings spread behind him. Arch is ethereal, unearthly, beautiful in a way he cannot dream up, and Theo realises -- it has only been a month, but already Arch's visage blows past the imagined shadow Theo has been holding close to his heart for all these days. Standing here, Arch is indescribable -- alive, glowing, perfect. 

 

He has spent so much time on this earth, searching, wandering, hoping -- he has fought armies of demons, died at their footsteps, and battled his way through death's door, but nothing comes close to the instant fear that clouds Theo's heart upon realising -- he quite nearly just speared Arch, and he --

 

He still does not know why the angel left. 

 

It is a nightmare, to be caught somewhere between the realm of the living and the dead, to love eternally and never age. He holds every one of his memories fresh and close to his heart, and none more prominent than Arch. Despite their initial disgust towards each other, Theo cannot imagine living a future where the angel is not by his side, and the possibility that Arch can is a terrifying prospect just as cold as his waking up and realising Arch was -- gone. Vanished, disappeared, not a trace left of the angel upon this mortal earth where he resides. 

 

He doesn't know what to say.

 

"You're not Nyx," is all he can manage, his voice painfully choked in his throat. And then -- the emotions come rushing back, the overwhelming sense of relief he feels at finding the other once more overriding any negative thoughts. He is relieved, so relieved, to see the angel once more -- his sun, his stars, his safety. It is so hard to let go of someone he has spent his free time thinking about, nights gently tracing the curve of Arch's face and the bend of his wing, and Theo -- he does not want to lose any more people who are precious to him.

 

"Oh, Christ," Theo says, and immediately drops his spears. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I -- Nyx -- he was -- I jumped Luna --" 

 

Overwhelmed, Theo stops talking, unable to arrange his words effectively. A lump forms in his throat at the sight of Arch standing there, just waiting, so painfully perfect and unreachable, and Theo takes a small step forward, and another, and another -- 

 

He comes to a jarring stop just out of touching distance of the other, unable to get past the roaring of blood in his ears and his aching heart. 

 

"Your petunias died," is what he says instead, his hands clenched and his arms shaking at his side. "I -- I thought you would come back to water them, and I -- I had to leave." 

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Anders [ Near the Gateway ]

 

Justice didn’t become excited - he never did - but Anders could feel how focused he was on Keaton’s words, and for good reason. They could do something with this information. Find out how things worked in Keaton’s world, use it as an example, use it to prove that things didn’t have to be the way things were. They’d spent far too much time going over Tevinter’s history and politics, editing and revising every sentence. It had been so difficult to explain that it could be learned from without implying that it wasn't a deeply flawed nation. Keaton’s world didn't have that problem, unless it was harboring some dark secret that they hadn’t been told about. It wouldn’t have been surprising, as Keaton seemed more than excitable enough for it, but every nation had its downsides. They could work around it, like they’ve worked around the rumors of the Dalish exiling excess mages. It’s possible. It would help. It would bring justice. 

 

No. It wasn’t possible; he was done. Finished. He should have died, and if anyone asked, he had. He doubted that he’d be able to survive long if anyone realized, and becoming an anonymous healer was something. Plans could change, but consequences didn’t. There was no way to update his manifesto, and even if there was no one would believe him. He had nothing, no credibility, no evidence but the word of a talking dog. 

 

Do not make excuses when-

 

Justice was interrupted by the continuation of Keaton’s speech, something that Anders was grateful for. Reasoning with Justice was nearly impossible at times; he still didn't understand the mortal need for sleep, even after years of wearing Anders' body to the bone. Anders was willing to die for the cause, but not to die senselessly. 

 

He nearly choked upon registering what Keaton had said. “A dragon!?” Images of massive red beasts, all fire and malice and teeth, filled his mind. But that couldn’t be right- they were sometimes worshipped, yes, but only a madman would call a dragon a ‘friend’. It was debatable whether Keaton was one or not, but a dragon being royalty was impossible either way. Whatever Keaton was talking about, it wasn’t what Anders thought of as a dragon. “Right- yes. Maybe if she’s strong enough - politically, that is - they wouldn’t be able to target her directly, but they’d do their best to make life difficult for her.” 

 

There was another thing that he had to ask. Maybe the answer would make Justice stop prodding him. “Keaton, does your world have any de-”

 

 “Oh hey, someone’s behind you!”

 

He automatically whirled around and fell into a combat stance, staff in hand. After realizing whom he was threatening he felt rather ridiculous, and more so for not hearing her coming- the stranger’s stance was hardly that of a rogue. “Who are you?” He didn’t lower his staff (if only to look like he’d meant to raise it in the first place), but his tone lacked aggression. 

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Arch - Gateway

 

Arch stayed as still as he could manage (why couldn’t he stop himself from trembling?) as Theo halted in place. Arch watched Theo’s lips part just as recognition flickered into his eyes. It was fascinating in a horrific sort of way to watch a wave of emotion fall on his face over for it to be washed away by a completely different emotion. Arch’s fingers began to fidget under the weight of Theo’s stare. He continually loosened and tightened his grip on Sherrkyle’s handle just so he distracted himself from the heat within Theo’s eyes.

 

“You’re not Nyx.” Arch blinked in surprise, his wings giving a single curious flap as Theo stared at him blankly. Before Arch can question why on earth Theo would mistake Arch for Nyx of all people, the man dropped his weapons and begins to babble to himself. Arch tensed once more as Theo began to advance towards him. A short, harsh gasp escaped Arch’s throat as his wings began to flutter nervously. He still wasn’t sure if he was facing the real Theo. An adept wizard could be crafting an illusion of Theo from Arch’s memories, breathing life into Theo just long enough for him to jam a knife between the angel’s rips. Theo had grown close enough for Arch to feel his hot breath. The trembling in Arch’s hands got worse as he swallowed thickly.
“Theo,” Arch said in a warning tone although his voice was more apprehensive than aggressive. Theo stopped in front of Arch and he could barely breathe. He didn’t want to hurt Theo. He didn’t want to do anything but—

 

“Your petunias died. I -- I thought you would come back to water them, and I -- I had to leave."  It took Arch a moment to register Theo’s words and when he did, his eyes widened a fraction. The corner of Arch’s lips twitched upward as a laugh, nearly hysterical, escaped from him. The entire situation was utterly ridiculous. Now as the perfect time for a wizard to have Theo take Arch out; the angel had been trembling and unable to gather the courage to use his weapon. Instead, Theo apologized for not taking better care of Arch’s petunias. Even a wizard did construct a fake Theo based on Arch’s memories, they would have never made Theo say something as ludicrous as “I’m sorry your flowers are dead”.

The angel had to cover his mouth to keep his laughter at bay. No doubt he looked like insensitive considering the strangled look on Theo’s face, but Arch knew he can soothe the man’s worries with ease.

 

“I thought you weren’t real,” Arch admitted as his laughter died down into a giggle. He lowered his hand in favor of cupping Theo’s face as he closed the distance between them. “Even the most experienced wizard would never think to make an illusion apologize for something as minuscule as that. What, did you forget to water them in the morning and decide to pour the rest of your morning coffee on them instead?” If Arch was being completely honest with himself, knowing that his petunias had died was far more upsetting than it had any right to be, but he could push the lecture off to another date. Gently rubbing a circle onto Theo’s face with the tip of his thumb, Arch realized that sneaking out late at night probably hurt Theo far more than he originally imagined. Theo had spent over a century looking for Jane. Arch knew that once Theo was dedicated to himself he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure they were safe in sound. Arch didn’t think that Theo would be too disturbed by his absence, but considering his past, Arch could understand why Theo would be reduced to such a disheveled state.

 

“I’m sorry for sneaking out,” Arch said, his gaze diverted to the ground. “I only meant to be gone for a little while, but that’s not an excuse when I didn’t consider your feelings before heading out. You deserve better than that.” Arch met Theo’s gaze, staring at him for a few heartbeats before moving forward and softly placing an apology kiss on his forehead.

 

“It’s too bad we had to meet up here,” Arch said as he lowered his hand from Theo’s cheek before entangling his fingers with Theo’s. “I was hoping to use those fresh oranges we got at the market yesterday for breakfast.” Arch blinked, his mind quickly reminding him that he had no idea where he was. Suddenly realizing the situation they were in, Arch looked around the clearing before sending a sheepish look in Theo’s direction. “You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would you?”  Idly, Arch let go of Sherrkyle, allowing the bow to float in place and raised his hand to wipe away the blood on side of Theo’s face. Arch had only been gone for a few hours so he wasn’t sure where Theo had gotten hurt. A shaving accident perhaps? Arch huffed in amusement to himself. He wouldn’t put it past Theo considering that whenever Theo shaved he stared down at himself in the mirror like he was trying to intimidate his own chin hair into submission with a glare.

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[ the sea and sky : theo -- ; ]

 

Arch's laughter is beautiful, a tune against his ears, and Theo instinctively leans forward as the angel's strict facade breaks and Arch laughs to himself, bowed slightly forward in good humour. Theo loves these moments, loves when the angel's almighty maturity cracks and he seems -- so normal, so human, so flawed and delighted and all the simple measures of living a good, complicated life, and Theo lives to see Arch light up with joy. It breaks his own exterior, cracks the wall of paranoia built up in his chest, and Theo finds the corners of his lips twitching in response near-instinctively to the other's laughter. 

 

As Arch approaches and cups the side of his face, Theo leans into the embrace with all the pose and gracefulness of a pet starved for attention, Arch's skin warm and real and soft against his own. He brings his own hand up, no longer shaking, and rests it on top of Arch's, his eyes half-lidded and filled with utter adoration as he drinks in the sight of the other man before him -- slightly taller, even as Theo wears heels on the battleground, his blue eyes reflective of the clear blue skies in early morning, and stray strands of golden hair scattered across his gaze. Theo wants to reach up, brush the other's bangs from his vision, and curl himself into the other's embrace to fill himself entirely and only with Arch's presence.

 

So enchanted by the sight of Arch before him once more that Theo almost misses the other's words -- he registers that Arch is speaking, notes to himself that he should probably listen to the other's words, but there is just something so addictive about the sight before him that he cannot seem to focus on anything else. If the seas were to roar in response to his indulgence, and the skies shatter to pieces for his mistakes, Theo would not mind -- as long as Arch's hand remained tangled in his own, as long as he could meet Arch's eyes once more. His skies were there, not in the mortal realm that lay at his feet. 

 

However, Arch's words -- Theo feels his face flash in response, his soft smile quickly fading. His coffee? He is delighted that Arch remembers his morning habits, remembers the small aspects of their day-to-day life, but the casual countenance by which Arch complains about his inability to handle plant life is ... unsettling.

 

Arch's apology soothes his scattered nerves, the other's lips soft against his skin. As Arch connects their hands together, Theo presses himself into his beloved before him, delighted to be together once more, greedy for more, wholeheartedly thriving under the bright sun of Arch's presence -- 

 

Yesterday?

 

He feels Arch's fingertips on his cheek, wiping away the smear of blood, and -- 

 

That's right.

 

The day before Arch disappeared, he bought oranges. Fresh from the market, a gift from the lovely lady who guarded her produce against sneaking fingers.

 

But that was -- that was a month ago.

 

A sudden coldness streaks through Theo, and he stares at Arch -- unblinking, uncomprehending. Then, as if burnt, he tears himself from Arch's embrace, immediately backing up.

 

I thought you weren't real.

 

You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?

 

What mockery was this? Nyx -- no, Nyx would not play such cruel a joke, not when he knows Theo will not rest until he has found who it is he looking for, not when he knows Theo has spent decades upon decades looking for someone -- 

 

"I don't know what game you're playing," he says, voice suddenly cold and filled with ice, turmoil in his eyes like the crashing waves of water against rock. He -- he cannot withstand the beating such an ocean would certainly take against his frame, and -- this -- this is unfair. 

 

"But it's certainly not very funny. The morning coffee, the oranges -- that -- that was a long time ago." And at this, Theo feels his voice shake, despite how he tries to keep his conscious stable. "I haven't been back there since Arch disappeared. If -- if you're trying to lure me into ... something -- that's not going to work." He side-eyes his weapons, lying abandoned on the grass. "Stop it," he demands, harsh and angry, and upset -- upset that someone would trick him this way, disappointed that it was potentially someone who had known him and Arch and their bond, and most of all -- crushed, utterly, that it seemed Arch remained a fragment of the past he had thought he recovered. 

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[ Somewhere outside - Ray ]

 

Ray tensed slightly upon the human man spinning on her, but his tone wasn't aggressive. It was a situation that was all too familiar to her. Just like a Pokemon, he was just wary of her. "Uh... I'm Rayla. I'm, uh... I'm from a place I call Alola. I'm new here, really... I was just looking around out here."

 

She paused, still somewhat wondering if the strange Lycanroc would let her pet it, but then looked back at the man. "Oh, yeah, what's your name?"

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Keaton - Somewhere near the Gateway

 

Anders’s reply was concerning to say at the least. Keaton flattened his ears against his head at the thought of Corrin being dragged away against her will to some cold cell in the middle of nowhere. A world where people were locked away and demeaned for something they couldn’t change about themselves sounded like a nightmare to Keaton; it was hard to imagine that Anders lived in such a depressing realm. Keaton wasn’t entirely sure how to reply. What could he say? The Circle sounded absolutely abysmal, so much so that Keaton didn’t know how to properly give his condolences.

 

Thankfully, the new person distracted Keaton from his dreary thoughts. He perked up as Rayla introduced herself, his tail swishing back and forth on the ground. Keaton couldn’t help how excited he got over meeting new people especially considering that he was in a new place full of strange people.

Hello, Rayla! I’m Keaton!” the Wolfskin said, a large pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. “We’re new here too!” Keaton glanced over at Anders and, upon realizing he wasn’t actually sure if Anders was new or not, added, “Well, I’m new here. Don’t know about anyone else.” Keaton was about to introduce Anders but decided against it just as he opened his mouth. Anders had just given him a rant about a society that took away people's ability to make their own choices. It would be a tad insensitive on his part to do the same by giving away Anders's name before he got the chance to speak.

 

Arch - Gateway

 

Arch knew that Theo was agile. He had seen the man effortless dodge arrows and magic blasts alike on the battlefield. He was acutely aware of Theo’s marvelous ability to escape whatever danger tried to ensnare him, but Arch never once thought that Theo would leap away from Arch as though his skin was a searing flame.

 

Confusion flickered across Arch’s face as Theo glares at him. The tone Theo used sent a chill down Arch’s spine. He hadn’t heard Theo speak in such a spiteful venomous tone since they had first met. Nothing that he said made sense but it was impossible to focus on what Theo was saying when his icy gaze bore down into Arch’s very core. Arch found himself anxiously shifting his feet, his wings fluttering nervously. His mind began racing as he tried to latch onto some answer for Theo’s behavior. Was the apology not good enough? Did he say something to elicit such an explosive response? Arch flinched when Theo furiously spat out “Stop that” and Arch couldn’t help but wonder what he did wrong.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arch replied, internally cringing at how small he sounded. He didn’t want to look Theo in the face, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away when he saw that Theo kept glancing over at this weapon. “We went to the market yesterday,” Arch asserted. “It was the following morning when Viska had—” Memories of the encounter with the demon (had it truly only been a few minutes ago) flooded into Arch’s mind. His hand shot up to his neck where a small purple bruise had formed. It was sensitive to touch and although Arch couldn’t see it, he knew it must be hideous to look at.

 

Remembering that Theo was still looking at him, Arch covered the shameful bruise with his palm, glancing away self-consciously. He had already ruled out that the Theo before him wasn’t some illusion meant to confuse him, but Arch would have preferred that to having the real Theo stare at him like an enemy. Arch was suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings, once again realizing the situation he was in. There were other people around, closer than he had first imagined. They were on the opposite end of the gathering of marigolds so chances were they hadn’t seen either of the two when they first arrived. That would change for sure considering how loud Theo was and the fact that he did illuminate the sky with red lightning.

 

“I...I can’t—” Arch’s voice was pitifully small as he took a step back. He had an image to uphold; he had to be the benevolent angel mortals think he is and he couldn’t be that when his heart was tearing itself apart. The realization that he would be dead if the light hadn’t taken him away finally settled in his mind. Maybe if he had been dealing with a near-death experience and his own husband turning on him at different times Arch would have been able to maintain his composure; however, handling both at the same time was more than Arch could handle. “This is too much,” Arch said, stepping further away. He knew he’d have to talk to someone about where he was and what was going on, but he needed a few minutes to compose himself. He could bury away his fear and anxiety once he was by himself. Arch found himself turning away, finally tearing his eyes away from Theo as he desperately searched the horizon for somewhere to hide. He’d be fine. He just needed a moment to control his increasingly erratic breathing away from Theo’s hateful gaze.

Edited by Doctortear

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[ how dynasties fall : theo -- ; ]

 

Arch's voice in his ears causes a buildup of emotions in Theo's chest. He hates this, hates how small and unsure Arch sounds, hates that he did this to him when he promised never to hurt the angel. The look of confusion in Arch's eyes seems to spear Theo, a rush of ice turning his spine cold. Arch reaches up for his neck, and just as the angel covers his skin with a hand Theo catches the faintest sight of a bruise, fresh and purple against his throat, and --

 

What is going on here? He is frustrated, confused and thoroughly tempered by something he feels he should understand, and yet cannot. He sees red at the idea that anyone would dare to hurt Arch, at the knowledge that Arch is hurt -- and he hates to be the one that causes Arch's beautiful, sky-blue eyes to shake with misunderstanding, his voice trembling against Theo's ears. 

 

Arch's breaks their conjoined glances first, tearing his eyes away from Theo's, and the knight reaches forward in response, almost instinctively. It is as if Arch has slammed a door on the revival of their tender bond near-immediately by looking away, as if he has suffocated Theo of the oxygen he so desperately needs to breathe by glancing away, forever locking Theo out of the emotions behind his sky-lit eyes. Theo only barely manages to register Arch's earlier words -- Viska? -- before he is stepping forward without a care in the world, and he knows, he knows --

 

Even if this is a trick, some cruel twist of fate to taunt him so, he cannot resist the man before him -- he never has been able to, and never will be able to. He feels Arch's pain as his very own through the pitiful way the other speaks, three simple words enough to break the resolve Theo has set against discovering the truth behind this scenario. He has gone a month without seeing Arch, a month of constantly wondering if he was safe or not, too long to be filled with anxiety and that terrible, horrible unknowing that he has become too accustomed to. 

 

"No," he says, unable to dispel the storm of emotions forming in his chest, threatening to spill over, choking him with sheer intensity, and he surges forward, taking Arch's hand in his own and turning the other around to face him, just as he wraps his arms around Arch's secure, warm, beating chest and buries his face into the taller's shoulder. 

 

"I'm sorry," he says, and he means every word, even if this is some sort of joke, even if this is the enemy having somehow obtained information on what it was like when they last met, even if this is not real -- he cannot bring himself to hurt Arch; Arch has evolved, somehow, over the course of countless nights spent memorising the curve of the angel's face against the moonlight, into someone undeniably important to Theo, one of the few people on this earth he would leap into fire to protect. 

 

"I'm sorry -- I didn't mean --" He is trying to form his thoughts into words, unable to calm the pounding of his heart, the roaring of blood in his ears. It has been so long since he has felt Arch by his side, and shakily he reaches up and runs his fingers through the angel's blond locks, his face still buried in the other's shoulder.

 

"We went to the market a month ago," Theo says, his voice shaking, and it all comes spilling out -- he is unable, does not want to hold back secrets from the other, wants to put some sense of right into their current situation. "No, Arch -- the oranges, everything -- that was a month ago, and you've been missing ever since." His breath hitches as he speaks, and he digs his other hand into the other's arm, wanting to secure himself against the turmoil of his emotions. "You've been missing, and I've been looking -- God -- I was so sure something terrible had happened, you just vanished, and no one has seen anything --" He stops talking then, unable to say more. He wants Arch to speak, to reassure his anxieties as the other always does, to confirm his existence -- because this can't be false, not now, not when Theo has spent so much time looking and hoping and unable to come to terms with the fact Arch might be gone for good. Not now, when he is so sure he will crumble into ashes if Arch fades from his fingertips. 

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