GUILTY, NOT REMORSEFUL.

IRRTUEMER — independent, highly selective & private multi-muse for characters of sega’s sonic the hedgehog franchise, entirely movie-based. a study in being misled, realizing the error of your ways and earning forgiveness. as loved by lucifer (23, they/he).

CARRD . PROMO .

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much like my hc regarding echidna gender, knuckles doesn’t see the need to define his sexuality. sexuality and gender don’t exist in the society of echidna. if pressed, he’d use gay or queer as an umbrella term. he falls in love with anybody and doesn’t have a specific type or preference

silver is gay, as in, homosexual, as in, only into men or masc-presenting people. i have a lot to say about his gender, as well, but his sexuality was never something to be considered or discussed. it’s always been this way, and he’s always carried this label

soot is seiren-sexual generally, they don’t have a lot of capacity for love outside of their resident villain. apart from that, they’re probably bisexual, but don’t actually use that label for themselves. again, they’re too busy fawning over seiren to actually consider anybody else

@irrtuemer​ / knuckles / continued.

     ❛  that’s not how my promises work.  ❜ 

     and really, what else could he expect of her?  eden yaki had never once given up.  she had faced the depths of hell, risen out of the ashes and broken the surface.  what was a few hundred robots, really, compared to that?  

     they had split into two teams - sonic and tails were providing cover, really, distracting the forces to the best of their abilities.  eden, however, was a bit of a wildcard.  nothing here was built to deal with her.  perhaps the good doctor hadn’t realized that, well, barriers that worked well for solid creatures wouldn’t work for a girl made of ink.  all the better for her. 

     really, there was only one reason she bothered hacking the door to his cell - and well, that was him.  getting knuckles out safely was her priority, and while her weapon kit helped, it would require doors open to get him free. 

     ❛  hey, spinefish, want to know something neat?  ❜

     she speaks lightly, clearly, and more as a distraction. she studies the boxes with intense, silver glances.  the screws holding them together were inlaid, and she worries, for a moment, that they might be too deep to get with her claws.  no, that would do no good.  if she had to guess, any attempt to strip the bolts would likely lead to a nasty shock, for both of them.  still, distracting him was her goal. 

     ❛  octopi have nine brains; one for each limb, and of course, our central brain.  that kind of localized control-  ❜  

      the thin, wire tools she keeps in her pockets start the work of unlocking.  it’s electronic, sure, but even an electronic lock must have a tumbler, somewhere.  she thinks she feels something, between what looks to be a metal plate and a hinge.  c’mon, please.

       ❛  -allows us to use our central brains more effectively, and let’s us focus on more-  ❜

click!

      ❛  - crucial things.  ❜  with a goofy grin, she watches the first of the restraints clamber to the floor.  the next comes easier, but it is not a short process.  ❛  once this is off, we’ll both go.  ❜

   OH. 

   knuckles forgets to breathe, for a little bit. maybe that’s because he’s panicking as the realization sets in— eden is not leaving him, and he’s powerless to stop her. that exact powerlessness drove him crazy before, had him yell into the darkness of the cell until his lungs hurt, but he was the only one being affected by it, at that point. now, it’s his sister’s life on the line. 

   there’s static in his ears, a noise that almost drowns out what she’s telling him. all of a sudden, he feels like he’s about to pass out. he feels light-headed, and if he wasn’t already on his knees, he’d collapse, unable to carry his own weight. instead, he gasps for air, a choked noise that’s as painful as it sounds. 

   he’s so tired of pain. the doctor had visited him for his fair share of tests, experiments, most of which knuckles either can’t remember or doesn’t know the consequences of, so it doesn’t really matter either way. his knees are scraped from grating against the concrete of the floor so many times, and his whole body feels like it’s been run over. moving hurts. breathing hurts. looking at her hurts. the weight of his fists chained to the ground a constant reminder of his failure.

   and then. click!

   the tiniest bit of weight lets up. knuckles stops breathing again, before letting out the breath he’s been gasping for. it’s relief. oh. oh. 

   he stares at the parts of the restraints that have fallen off, blankly, all the anger suddenly stripped from him. he had made peace with the fact that he would never hold his siblings again. that he would die, here. 

   once this is off, we’ll both go. and that, that sounds like another promise. suddenly, he can’t see again, but this time it’s not because dizziness overwhelms him— knuckles’ vision blurs because he’s crying, quiet tears clinging to the fur of his cheeks. ‘ sister, ‘ he mutters, quietly, static making space for his quickened heartbeat, thundering in his chest. 

   KNUCKLES GRUNTS.

   it’s a nice sentiment, isn’t it? that there’s people he can count on, no matter how dire the situation. he remembers, vaguely, eden calling out to him as robotnik whisked his half-conscious body away. the despair in her expression, right alongside her determination. he hadn’t doubted her, then.

   but a long time has passed between that moment and this one. and knuckles is tired. back on the island, he used to keep track of time with the passage of the sun. he hasn’t seen any light in ages, and when eden approaches him from the brightness that is the hallway leading to his cell, he has to turn away from her completely to avoid hurting his eyes. 

   he’s tired. he’s incoherent. part of him, angry, scared, feels the need to lash out at anybody who comes too close. 

   instinctively, he jerks, tugging at the restraints weighing his fists to the ground. robotnik had prepared for his capture— the metal boxes around his hands were designed to withstand even knuckles’ power. he doesn’t know how. maybe he’s drained him of his power, and knuckles hasn’t even noticed, because he’s been struggling, and failing, to escape. 

   ‘ you need to leave. ‘ finding his voice, putting any kind of conviction behind it, is so hard when his throat is dry from dehydration, his head spinning from the sudden movement of his head whipping around to meet her, and back again. it’s a cruel thing to say, something he doesn’t notice through the worry and fear plaguing his mind. they can’t free him. they can’t help him. they’ll only get hurt, putting themselves in harm’s way, and for what?

   for him? 

   ‘ i cannot move, octopus. you cannot move me. ‘ and then, exhausted, the weight of the situation settles on him, and knuckles feels undeniably small as he leans over his own knees resting on the ground, grinding his teeth. this time, resisting the urge to tug at the restraints once more. he’s tried so many times. it’s useless. 

   ‘ you have kept your promise, ‘ he starts again, voice now softer, a tremble revealing just how scared the brave echidna is. ‘ now, go. ‘

   SILVER OPENS THEIR MOUTH TO SPEAK, yet not a single noise leaves their lips. they don’t remember the last time they’ve uttered a word.

   were they scared to? they can’t remember. maybe. probably. it’s hard to wrap their head around anything when everything is hazy, when blinking awake makes no difference, because they’ve been sitting in a pitch-black room for so long that the only light their mind registers is the curve of brightness lining the door they’ve been stuck behind. 

   and that brightness means somebody is there. somebody who’s speaking to them. they think they can hear him. a voice their mind knows, something that makes them tug at the restraints chaining them to the wall, draining them of their power. silver’s chest heaves with the effort to breathe, to wake up enough to react, to be conscious and aware and alive. 

   ‘ ... shadow? ‘ it must be. it must be, right? this can’t be another one of those tricks their own mind is playing on them, to give them something to hold onto. they don’t think they can handle another false hope. part of them is almost tempted to dip back into the darkness, give in and give up. 

   but shadow keeps talking, insistent, giving them something else to focus on. move away from the door, he says. silver lets out a different noise, then, something between a wet wheeze and a laugh. something trickles down the side of their mouth. they can’t taste it. 

   ‘ shadow. ‘ it’s a mutter, and silver isn’t coherent enough to consider that shadow might not hear. then again, shadow isn’t exactly normal. maybe his hearing is different from your average mobian. 

   ‘ shad— ow. can’t move. far— far away. ‘ there’s plenty of distance between them and the door. seemingly more and more each day. an invincible obstacle for silver, but something else entirely for the ultimate life-form. chaos, they hope it’s really him. they hope they’re not talking to themselves. 

   they wanna see their dad.