^~Skrunkly, soft, and NASTY~^she/her-aro lesbian-tattoo artist! {adult} Reblog blog is @lunarcrown-reblogs and don't be afraid to send me an ask if you want me to see something!! ** I BLOCK EASILY SO DONâT BE WILD THX!! **
Masterpost of links and stuff for people wanting to follow along or catch up with me and @aquaquadrant angsty Tango-centric AUÂ âHels to Payâ (Set in Hermitcraft/Double Life shoot off!).
If youâd like to scroll everything in chronological order, click HERE!
Specific tags are below âˇ
Helâs to Pay Intro Comic
Aquaâs ficâs~
âfrom eden: part Iâ (more backstory about the comic and ESCAPE)
âfrom eden: part IIâ (Bravoâs experience in hels and meeting a pathetic crow)
âfrom eden: part IIIâ (The start of double life, and the ranchers being awkward, also....there was only one bed! GASP!!!)
âfrom eden: part IVâ (confessions!! Awkwardness! Nightmares!! )
âfrom eden: part Vâ (Doctor Atlas gets beat up, checkin in on bravo in hels, and a flashback!)
âfrom eden: part VIâ (Bravo and Atlas work together, and things are learned and hidden about Tango )
âfrom eden: part VIIâ (Bravo meets Patho. It goes well, until it doesnât, and then it does again!)
âfrom eden: part VIIIâ (It goes less well for Tango.)
"from eden: part IX: act 1" (Aftermath of the attack...dodging eye contact)
"from eden: part IX: act 2" (A plan for Tango's collar, a cold bed)
âfrom eden: part Xâ (tango vs bravo, only one is any good at PVP. only one is good at self reflection.)
"from eden: part XI: act 1" (plans made, deaths tolled, farms revisited...)
"from eden: part XI: act 2" (the end, stained but true. many stories finding purchase, and dappled shade under a tree)
general aqua fic tag plus drabbles!!Â
Art
Asks
PlaylistÂ
Gift Art/Fan Art (for any style of any art about the au which is SO COOL TO MAKE A TAG NOW FOR THAT)
All my designs for characters so far~
Iâm also on tik tok! Same username, âlunarcrownâ!
(There wonât be anything exclusive there but if you want to see little collections of art with music behind it, thereâs the place!!)
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Title: i bet on losing dogs
Word Count: 2,635
Warnings: Canon-typical violence and death, descriptive blood/injury, mild language, somewhat toxic relationship dynamics (be chill tho this is characters not ccâs) and implied shipping
Summary: Pearl's no stranger to being a lone wolf. That's just how it goes, sometimes, in a death game, despite how much she wishes otherwise. So when a new world starts with Gem and Grian's promises of belonging, she leaps at the chance to be part of a pack again. But she quickly finds herself pulled into dark, cold depths that have her struggling to keep her head above water. And at the end of it all, she faces a haunting question: what do they actually want her for?
A/N: Introducing the long-awaited (by me lol) dramatized Past Life retelling through Wolf!Pearl's eyes, with a focus on a somewhat toxic Villies dynamic (with GemPearl undertones) and mob hybrid instincts galore. Every line of dialogue is pulled directly from canon, but Iâve cut bits and taken some liberties for the sake of a better/more coherent story. Hope yâall enjoy :3 - Aqua
(Follow the above link to read on A03 for complete tags, or continue reading below. Link to Spotify playlist here.)
~
i bet on losing dogs, part I - oh apricity, youâre calling out to me
~
Pearl is knee deep in a sand pit, digging out a spider spawner dungeon, when her ears prick at the sound of distant footsteps.
She falls still, turning her face to the wind. Two familiar scents nip at her. One is a strong, earthy sort of musk with a sharp-sweet tinge, like freshly stripped birch wood- which can only be Gem. The second one is milder and a little dusty- that âold jumper mixed with feathersâ smell sheâs come to associate with Grian.
âHello? Hello!â she calls, quickly climbing out of the sand pit and glancing around.
Gem and Grianâs arrival brings mixed feelings. Sheâs known them both a long time, and theyâve generally maintained a good friendship. If this were Hermitcraft, sheâd be anticipating some light-hearted shenanigans or a consultation about a new build, maybe even some playful combat that ultimately has no consequence. But these worlds are different. Sheâs ended up on the opposite side of a battlefield from them before, and theyâre both formidable foes in their own right. This early in the game, itâs impossible to know their intentions.
Grian hops off the overlooking hilltop, fluttering to an abrupt landing in front of Pearl. âWho are you talking to?â he asks urgently.
âWho are you with?â Gem asks from the top of the hill. Her ears rove in every direction, nose wrinkling as she scents the wind; gathering information about her surroundings while she keeps her eyes on Pearl.
Itâs the most natural thing in the world for Gem to keep Pearl in her direct line of vision. Her species is technically prey to Pearlâs- a deeply buried piece of data theyâre both aware of but pay little mind to. Pearl doesnât take any offense by the way Gem sometimes stomps the ground and snorts in challenge, no more than Gem takes offense to the way Pearlâs eyes dilate when she breathes in her scent. Thereâs no easy prey here and they both know it.
Pearl turns her head so sheâs not making eye contact with either of them, signaling no threat. âIâm just with myself,â she hums, âIâm talkinâ to me.â
Gemâs face brightens. âYouâre by yourself? Well, thatâs great news!â
âThatâs great news,â Grian echoes. He tilts his head in little twitches and jerks that snatch Pearlâs attention. Rapid movements signal prey behavior to her wolf code, but he always stares at her head-on like a predator.
And itâs not to do with the fact that his eyes are set into a human skull. Jimmyâs an avian, too, and he doesnât stare at her like that. He almost always views her out the side of his eye. Face slightly turned away, feathers slightly ruffled. Like a part of him is always waiting to take flight.
Grian looks like heâs always waiting to strike. And Pearl finds herself wondering, not for the first time, just exactly what kind of bird he is.
âPearl,â Grian chirps eagerly, âI just explained to Gem, Iâm tryinâ to like- I came into this series for the first time ever with a team in mind, and itâs you, itâs me, and itâs Gem. What do you think?â
Pearlâs heart skips a beat. âI like that team,â she says, her tail starting to wag low and loose. She looks at Gem, mouth falling open into a wolfâs grin. âThatâs a great team.â
At the same time, sheâs already reminding herself not to get her hopes up. Sheâs cautious out of habit. Sheâs learned over these games that itâs hard to find a pack, a true pack, in a world where only one of them can make it to the end. But that doesnât stop her from wanting it. Wanting to find somewhere soft to curl up and call home, warmed by bodies pressed against her, comforted by the scents of safety and good hunting. Wanting to be wanted.
Gem smiles back at her, satisfaction glimmering in her green eyes, before she exchanges a knowing look with Grian. She pats Pearl on the head as she trots past her, and Pearl has to fight the urge to lean into it. âGood. I think so, too.â
Grian is watching them with a certain glint in his eye. âI just said- Iâm gonna find the strongest members, and here we are.â
âAlready found a spider spawner,â Gem says appraisingly.
Pearl ducks her head. âItâs a good start,â she amends, and then because she physically canât help herself- âBut you know everyone dies when theyâre with me, right? You know that?â
âWe turn up,â Grian continues talking to Gem, as if Pearl hasnât spoken, âand sheâs already proven to be the most competent player.â
Pearlâs lips press into a tight smile. None of them are strangers to tragedy, it goes hand-in-hand with these games. But if Grian and Gem want to pretend things will be different this time, want to ignore her warning, sheâs happy to let them. Sheâll be the sole keeper of this knowledge until its inevitable conclusion.
They fall into an easy rhythm, then. Gathering supplies, cobbling together a crude base, venturing down into the mines. All the day one things that need to be done in every new world, regardless of a death game going on. Itâs comfortable and fun- if not slightly undercut by the thrum of anticipation that permeates the air. Itâs as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for the fragile peace to shatter.
âOkay but like, socially, whatâs the plan?â Grian asks eventually. âAre we⌠âcause, you know, thereâs not really rules, theyâre more like⌠suggestions.â His gaze darts between them, head jerking and bobbing, wings ruffling. âAre we just- can we just, like⌠take every- everyone elseâs stuff?â
Pearl pauses. Thereâs a strange, almost guarded tone to his voice. Like the first slow, careful step onto a frozen lake, testing to see if it cracks. She lets out a heavy breath through bared teeth. âI mean⌠youâre the rulemaker,â she murmurs, reluctant to leave the shoreline.
Gem springs onto that lake, crashing through the ice with powerful hooves. âWe should just go ahead and full on do it and make enemies, âcause everybody on the server already doesnât like me very much.â She idly flicks an ear, unbothered by the cold. Steam curls from her mouth. âI know people donât like me. So I think we should lean into it, we should be three villains.â
âWe should just- thatâs what I was thinking,â Grian exclaims, eyes flashing with excitement as he follows her in deeper. Water droplets roll down his feathers like moonlight. âWe just be the villains. Like, everyoneâs too scared to be the villains- Iâm not scared to be a villain. You scared to be a villain?â
Gem lifts her chin, tossing her antlers back with a spray of water. âLetâs be the villains.â
Their gazes turn expectantly to Pearl. She shrinks under the weight of it. This path is one sheâs walked before, back in a time of red strings and red eyes, bloodlust and bitterness. Itâs not something sheâs keen to return to. Not even for the temptation of another win. She can see a watery grave beckoning, and every instinct is telling her to run. Every instinct warns her against the too-hungry eyes of a deer and a bird that look upon her without fear, in affront to nature.
But they want her. And she wants to be wanted.
âAlright,â she breathes, wading into the icy depths.
Letâs be villains.
~
Grian takes first blood that night. Unprovoked, green on green. He claims he wasnât actually trying to kill Martyn, but the alternative isnât any better; if their plan was successful, it wouldâve been a multi-kill on Jimmy, Joel, Skizz, and Bigb. Trapped like foxes in a hole. Just because.
Pearl watches it happen silently, tail stiff and stomach tight. Even the instant karma of Grian tumbling down the exact same hole to his death isnât enough to dispel her uneasiness, not even when everyone is all jokes and laughs afterwards. She canât help but feel that some invisible line has been crossed. Canât help but feel the sluggish ripples of an icy lake lapping at her paws.
âI do like you as villains,â Cleo hums. But when their dead-eyed gaze drags over Pearlâs form, thereâs far too much awareness in it to be entirely friendly, and her nose fills with the scent of rot.
~
As the daylight begins to fade, they venture out to explore the world, see what everyone else is up to, and- incidentally-steal all the torches from around the other bases so more mobs will spawn. Typical villain behavior.
They just so happen to be catching up with Skizz, all of them crowded inside his tiny cobblestone house, when thereâs a shout from outside- shortly followed by Jimmy hitting the ground. Apparently the shallow water below wasnât enough to spare his life.
Grian immediately swoops out the door to loot the dropped items, Pearl and Gem in tow. Pearlâs a little reluctant to follow as they wade into the pond, wary of the mobs surrounding them, but eventually she jumps in and manages to get away with a few diamonds, among other various belongings. They quickly retreat back to their own base, with Jimmy and Joel hot on their heels.
âPearl,â Joel starts, climbing up the hill, âweâre here to kindly request that you return Jimmyâs stuff, please.â He stops in front of her expectantly. Jimmyâs standing a little way behind him, watching nervously out of the side of his eye, feathers ruffled.
Pearl pauses. She gives him a shrug. âI donât have âem, mate.â
Joelâs antennae twitch. âGive Jimmy his stuff back!â He punctuates his demand with a swipe of his sword.
Itâs the flat of the blade that lands against Pearlâs head, but it still hurts. âOw!â she yelps, ducking her head as she scampers around the house, tail tucked. âWhat the heck!â
Gem charges over, darting in front of Pearl with flat ears and a stiff tail. âDonât hurt Pearl!â she snaps. Her sword comes down on Joel in a flash. He returns the hit before they break apart, still glaring.
âNo,â Grian flutters over, his voice warning, âsteady, steady, steadyâŚâ
âHey, câmon,â Jimmy says, grabbing Joelâs shoulder. âCome on now, guys-â
âShush,â Joel shrugs him off. He levels his sword at Gem, eyes narrowed. âOkay- give him his diamonds back. Give him his diamonds back.â
Gem paws the ground with her hoof. âHow dare you.â
âGuys,â Jimmy holds his hands up, âIâm here for my diamonds, alright?â
Grian tilts his head. âI- I believe the term is âfinderâs keepers.ââÂ
âI believe the term is âyouâve stolen,ââ Joel deadpans.
Grian exchanges a look with Gem before he hums noncommittally, turning back to their farm. Reluctantly, Gem lowers her sword. She blows a sharp exhale through her nose before following.
Jimmy, evidently seeing they arenât going to budge, decides to help himself to some of their belongings, rooting through the various chests they have lying around. Then he lets himself into their house, and Pearl is spurred into action. She lunges forward and strikes him with her sword (and she can't help but think about how in another time, it would've been her teeth).
He whirls around with wide eyes. âIâm on three hearts.â
âYou better get outta that house, there, Jimmy!â Pearl barks, stepping through the doorway. She leaps onto the chest in the corner and stares down at him. Her tail moves side-to-side; too intense to be friendly.
Jimmy sputters for a moment. His wings flap haphazardly as he backs himself against the wall, talons scratching through the sandy floor. âIâll- Iâll have my diamonds then, please, thank you!âÂ
Grian pokes his head inside. âAre the diamonds worth more than your life?â he asks softly, hopping on top of the furnace in the corner opposite Pearl. His talons grip the edge of the stone as he leers over Jimmy.
âYes,â Jimmy answers without hesitation. âAt this moment in time, yes.â
Grian catches Pearlâs eye, a smirk spreading across his face. âI mean, one swing of the sword, and thatâs true.â
âIt is,â Jimmy allows, dipping his head. âYou can swing, and I will die. But-â He puffs out his chest, wings flaring out behind him. â-green on green, my friend! There will be trouble!â
âNo,â Grian says, casually preening a wing, âI already- I already killed Martyn by accident, so.â
Jimmy pauses. âOh,â he says, shrinking back down. âThat was you.â
Before anything else can come of it, Joel sets fire to their base from outside. Itâs not completely made out of wood, but thereâs enough of it in the lower layers to get a blaze roaring, and Pearlâs kicking herself for using it. She joins Grian and Gem in their desperate attempts to put out the flames, but despite their best efforts, it quickly grows out of control. They concede defeat, merely watching the fire spread as Jimmy and Joel take their leave, considering the score settled. Pearlâs nose wrinkles at the scent of smoke. Her ears twitch when the wood splits and pops.
Gem looks over their burning base with pursed lips. âGuys, being the villains is really hard.â
âIt is actually really hard,â Grian laughs, running a hand through his hair. ââCause I- I neither feel like a villain- I donât feel like a good villain, you know?â
Pearl rubs her head. âKinda feels like weâre being picked on, at this point,â she murmurs.
But it seems like Gem and Grianâs response is that they need to be better villains, rather than give up on the whole idea like Pearl wants to. So she keeps her reservations to herself and follows them in deeper.
~
They all sleep on the same bed that night, cloaked beneath the moonlit sky above their roofless hovel.
Grianâs perched on the headboard, curled in on himself and tucked beneath his wings. Pearlâs never understood how he can sleep comfortably like that, but it seems to work for him.Â
That leaves the rest of the bed for Pearl and Gem, the latter carefully resting her sharp antlers on the pillow, long legs folded gracefully beneath her. Pearl moves to curl up at the foot of the bed, but Gem chuffs softly. Her eyes shine with stray beams of moonlight as she holds her arms out, silently inviting Pearl to come closer.
Pearl does so gratefully, trembling from the force of trying not to break out into excited full-body wriggling, her tail held carefully still. She crawls forward on her stomach, nuzzling Gemâs face before curling against her, head tucked beneath Gemâs chin. She can hear Gemâs heart beating, can feel the pulse of her jugular pressed against her lips. An errant thought occurs to her: itâd be so easy to sink her teeth into Gemâs throat. To rip through skin and muscle and sinew âtil her teeth glance off bone made slick with blood.
But Pearl merely turns the thought over in her mind before letting it slip from her fingers, drifting forgotten into the inky depths. She hasnât seriously entertained bloodlust like that for several seasons, now. Maybe she never will again.
She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Sheâs content just like this, warm and safe and wanted. Sheâd gladly forsake the taste of blood if she could just live in this moment forever.
Gem sighs, too, but thereâs a different tone in it. In the eye of Pearlâs mind, she can almost imagine Gemâs breath fogging in the air, its sting as sharp as any teeth.
(Pearl curls up tighter and pretends she canât feel the sudden chill breathing down her neck.)
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Also Opal reminded me that Iâve been drawing too much happy and cute and need to draw more angst and whump so even tho yall know Iâm terrible at doing requests like I WANT toâŚ..if you have any angst ideas, throw em at my ask box~
I have a FEW in mind but I love seeing everyoneâs Twsisted Minds đ
I looooove your Martyn design he's so scrunkly. I know you probably got quite a few wips to still finish but i'd like to ask for some Martyn crumbsss if that's alright with you
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Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Balance
Rating/Warnings: Gen/None
Word Count: 2,827
Summary:
So then you hear a voice cry out behind you.
âNo, no!â
And you turn around, and you see Magnus. Heâs standing in the doorway holding a- a wooden duck that kinda looks like you in one shaking hand, the other one still grasping the door handle that heâs turned without warning, his eyes wide with dawning horror. And you realize immediately the gravity of whatâs happened, it just- it- it hits you like a punch in the stomach, because you just know that he knows what youâve done- even if heâs about to forget it, forget everything. In this moment, Magnus, one of your oldest and- and dearest friends, knows that youâve betrayed them.
⌠what do you do?
A/N: Hey TAZ fandom y'all mind if I join you uhhh⌠over a decade late? Long story short, I finally started listening during my cross-country move and I just finished Balance. I have a lot of feelings but the end of ep 66 lives rent free in my mind. This is Lucretia's POV of that scene. - Aqua
Click here to read on Ao3.
~*~
Hereâs the scene.
Lucretia, we find you in your room aboard the Starblaster, standing in front of Fisherâs tank. You watch as Fisherâs tendrils curl around your journals- the journals that you caringly and dutifully and painstakingly documented your crewâs mission in for the last century- and itâs just tearing pages from the spine and consuming them in large clumps as ink bleeds into the water. The light from inside the tank is blurry as your eyes fill with tears, but you are unshaken in your resolve.
You know that you cannot go on allowing this world to suffer from the intoxicating and devastating power of your relics. You know that your friends, your trusted companions, would have tried to stop you from enacting your own plan because⌠they already told you they donât believe in it. So this is the only way to ensure they wonât be able to interfere. But itâs not resentment or- or- or fear or even pride that drives you to do this terrible, necessary thing.
Itâs a promise. A promise you all made each other decades ago, to not let yourselves forsake a world- any world- in your quest to defeat The Hunger. And as much as the others might not want to admit it⌠in creating the Grand Relics with the Light of Creation, thatâs exactly what youâve done.
You agonized over this decision for months. You tried to come up with another option, a way to do what needed to be done without having to turn against the others. Without having to make them turn against you. You drafted arguments and- and speeches to defend your reasoning, amassed evidence of the damage caused by the relics to appeal to their empathy, poured over every scroll of- o- on planar wisdom that you could obtain to prove your theory was sound. But after many sleepless nights of tireless revision, deep down, you knew- you had this horrible certainty that none of it would be enough.
You couldnât imagine any scenario where the others would support you in this. You couldnât imagine any scenario where the others would stand idly by, either. You knew youâd have to take them out of the picture- but you didnât want to hurt them. You couldnât hurt them.Â
And you donât think theyâd hurt you, either, Lucretia, but you have to think pragmatically. Youâd be outnumbered and outmatched, almost hopelessly and- and laughably so. Youâre a chronicler by trade. Youâve only become a fighter- a- a- a survivor, really, by necessity, and only just recently. What chance could you possibly stand against them?
(I canât.)
⌠well that- that was a rhetorical question, but yeah, you- you knew you didnât stand a chance. It was an unsolvable problem. At least, thatâs what you thought until the answer came to you on one auspicious evening, as you hummed a song that the others couldnât hear, or- or rather, couldnât remember⌠because it had been fed to Fisher.
So the final piece of the puzzle fell into place, and you spent the next several weeks planning, preparing, redacting, working out every little detail in advance because once you did this, there would be no turning back. You couldnât let yourself have any doubts or second thoughts because this would be the only chance youâd get at it. You could inoculate your friends and return their memories at any point, of course, but once you did, you knew theyâd never trust you again. So no matter what, youâd have to see this through. A- a- and as you watch the catalyst for this chain of events be set into unstoppable motion⌠Lucretia, how- how are you feelinâ?
(I⌠Iâll be honest, I know this is going to be hard, but⌠itâs the only way, and I donât regret it.)
⌠hah, okay.Â
So then you hear a voice cry out behind you.
âNo, no!â
And you turn around, and you see Magnus. Heâs standing in the doorway holding a- a wooden duck that kinda looks like you in one shaking hand, the other one still grasping the door handle that heâs turned without warning, his eyes wide with dawning horror. And you realize immediately the gravity of whatâs happened, it just- it- it hits you like a punch in the stomach, because you just know that he knows what youâve done- even if heâs about to forget it, forget everything. In this moment, Magnus, one of your oldest and- and dearest friends, knows that youâve betrayed them.
⌠what do you do?
(I- I try to explain.)
âGod, Magnus, no. You- you werenât supposed to see this, Iâm so sorry, Magnus.â
Fisher, still consuming your journals, lets out a little happy hum from its tank- the same tune it always hums when it greets Magnus, one of its favorite people. But Magnus doesnât even acknowledge it. The carved duck that heâs holding just, like, drops out of his hand and clatters to the floor, a small crack splitting through the wood. He clutches his head, grabbing onto the door frame for support as he staggers, his breathing shallow, and he almost looks like heâs going to be sick.
âWhat are you do- what?â
(I rush over to him.)
âMagnus, p- please, this is just for a little bit. Iâm- Iâm gonna stop this, what weâve done to this world. Iâm- Iâm gonna find you a place where you can be happy again. Itâs- itâs just for a little while, and then youâll remember, I promise.â
Magnusâs eyes are kind of almost glazed over, and heâs blinking like heâs trying to clear his vision? He takes a step back but itâs hesitant a- and- and unsteady, which is so unlike Magnus, the brave and brash fighter that youâve come to know over these long one hundred years. You can see him fighting this- this static thatâs overwhelming his mind, fighting with all his strength, but when he looks up at you again thereâs a sudden and crushing blankness in his expression.
âWho are you?â he asks.
(I put a hand on his arm.)
âI can do this, Magnus, please. Please. Just lie down, I donât want you to fall and hurt yourself. I love you, Magnus, I love all of you, Iâm sorry. Itâll be over soon.â
Magnusâs legs finally give out, and youâre there to help lower him to the floor, guiding him to lay down. Do you- I think you like, take off your red I.P.R.E. overcoat and- and fold it up to put under his head as heâs losing consciousness. Fisher is humming again but itâs faster, now, more incessant as it starts to grow distressed by Magnusâs lack of response. Do you uh, say anything to Fisher?
(No, I have to check on the others.)
Okay. You hurry down the hallway and into the main cabin of the Starblaster, th- the uh- the sort of common area that you and your friends have spent countless hours in, sharing meals and- and telling stories and sometimes even arguing over the span of the cycles you all endured together. And the space thatâs normally filled with laughter and voices and activity is just⌠silent, and still.
You see Merle, the laidback man of the cloth, slumped at- uh- o- over the dining table with his cheek pressed against a playing card, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. One of his arms is stretched on the table, almost as if he was reaching out before he fully succumbed. His eyes are closed and heâs completely limp except for the occasional twitch of his fingers.
Davenport, your captain, the master pilot and tactician, is curled up on the floor next to an overturned chair, cards scattered around him. Heâs gripping the front of his uniform almost desperately in a white-knuckled grip even though his face is slack and his eyes a- are half-lidded, his mouth barely moving as he softly mutters a single word over and over againâŚ
â... Davenport⌠DavenportâŚâ
(Are they okay?)
Theyâre, uh⌠somewhere in between consciousness and sleep. I mean, their minds are under assault by the voidfishâs power as it consumes an entire centuryâs worth of memories in mere seconds⌠but physically, theyâre unharmed, yeah.
(I want to⌠try and make them comfortable.)
Um, sure, you- theyâre both kinda little fellas, you know, so- so I think you can just pick them up and set them down on the couch- itâs this big sectional upholstered with red velvet thatâs inlaid on one of the back walls of the common area. When you pick up Merle, he doesnât really react much except to mumble âFive more minutesâŚâ and Davenport lets out a quiet but insistent âDavenport!â which is⌠concerning, a bit, because he hasnât said anything else. So you-
(I- c- can I- can they hear me?)
Uh⌠you can try?
âMerle, Davenport, I- everythingâs gonna be okay. You- Iâll make sure youâre safe, just- trust me, please.â
Thereâs no reaction from Davenport or Merle.
So, once theyâre settled on the couch, you- you straighten up and look around. And Lucretia, you realize⌠you donât see Barry or Taako.
You saw them just earlier today. You know they were here. Thereâs dirty dishes piled in the galley sink from Taakoâs latest culinary experiment, and there are sheets of notes a- and magical tomes from dead worlds stacked on the coffee table from Barryâs late night research sessions. But your final two companions⌠arenât here.
(I search the ship.)
So you quickly turn and run back down the hall that leads to each of your rooms, throwing open the door to Barryâs and finding it empty, and you check Taakoâs and itâs also empty. And you even check Lupâs room which is still just as empty as the day she disappeared. And as you check each room in the Starblaster youâre growing more and more panicked because you canât find Barry and Taako.
You end up back in the common area, your heart pounding and your mind racing. Your gaze falls on the door that leads outside, to the deck of the Starblaster, the only place you havenât checked yet.
And your stomach just drops through the fucking floor.
(I run outside.)
You sprint through the door out onto the deck and find it empty. You scream their names but thereâs no response, just your own lonely, desperate voice echoing out into the sky. Images flash through your mind of- of Barry and Taako, dazed and confused and helpless, tipping over the railing of the Starblaster and falling to their unceremonious deaths. Youâre cursing yourself for not double checking, for not being absolutely certain that all of them were safe a- and- and contained before you enacted your plan. And just as your panic threatens to completely overwhelm you, you remember thereâs an upper level to the deck, and quickly ascend the steps to take you up there.
Taako is there- heâs on his hands and knees, wind whipping at his hair and his clothes. Heâs staring straight ahead at nothing, his expression blank, with tears just- just streaming down his face, though he does- he looks over when you approach. And the fact that heâs even still conscious, much less able to hold himself upright, is just testament to the uh- th- the sort of immense arcane power that the twins have always seemed to just have, innately, which youâve maybe always been a little envious of.
(I grab him by the shoulders.)
âTaako, whereâs Barry?!â
And Taako almost recoils a little, his ears flattening. âWhereâs- whereâs what?â he stammers, his eyes darting around. âWho are you? Wh- where am I?â
But you also- you notice that his wand is gripped in one of his hands? And you catch the briefest glimpse of a faint plume of smoke thatâs curling out of its tip before itâs whisked away by the wind.
(Oh, no.)
A sense of dread settles over you. You donât know- you have no way of knowing what mightâve just occurred. Taako is staring at you just- just completely empty, and thereâs no sign of Barry. And so youâre left wondering- did they realize what was happening? Did they know what your plan was? If youâre to assume the worst and Barryâs dead- well, heâs a lich, he can come back.Â
But youâre still worried. Youâre worried for his safety and that he might have burned through his corporeal form in this world that you intended to be yours and theirs forever. And at the same time, youâre also worried about how this will affect your plan, because the rules tend to be different for liches. If Barry is out there in lich form and he knows, thereâs no telling what he might do.
Liches are tethered by strong emotions. Lup has explained this all before. It helps ground them, keeps them from losing grasp of who they are- the personalities and values and sense of self they held in life. Youâve never been afraid of Barry, the nervous and dedicated scientist. But if there was ever any circumstance in all of existence where a strong emotion could actually have the opposite effect on a lich, and instead consume and corrupt them into a shadow of their former selves⌠the hatred Barry must feel for you could probably do it.
(I didnât mean for this to happen, I didnât- what- what can I do?)
You can try to find him later. Thereâs nothing you can do about that now.
You look down at- at Taako, whoâs looking back up at you just⌠uncomprehending, with still-wet tear stains on his face, and you canât help but feel a surge of frustration- that this brilliant yet maddening wizard mightâve ruined the plan youâve risked everything for, before it even got off the ground, and he doesnât even remember-
(Itâs not his fault.)
⌠but a heartbeat later you realize your frustration is actually directed at yourself. You brought this on yourself.
So you- you try to help Taako up, and he makes a little noise of protest and tries to like, push away from you, but you can see that the voidfishâs influence is starting to fully hit him, âcause the alertness in his eyes is fading. You put his arm around your shoulder, and itâs- itâs awkward because heâs taller than you and like⌠starting to become dead weight. But you manage to half-lead, half-carry him down the steps and back inside the Starblaster, at which point he finally just sinks to the ground, his back against the wall, his wand slipping from his grasp and rolling across the floor.
(I pick it up and crouch beside him, tucking it into his pocket.)
âIâm- Iâm sorry, Taako. Iâll make it up to you, to all of you, I promise.â
He struggles to lift his head up to look at you, opening his mouth to say- uh, I- I dunno, something, but then his breath catches and his eyes flutter closed as he drifts away into the static.
Lucretia, you stand up in the cabin of the Starblaster, surrounded by whatâs left of your friends, your family, and yet youâre alone. The sunâs about the set through the port side windows, throwing orange beams of light lazily along the floor, and a memory flashes through your mind- those same windows filled with an endless darkness, broken only by wild streaks of yellow and blue and green and red light.Â
⌠do you still not have any regrets?
(Yes. N- no, I donât- I donât know.)
Youâre not sure how long you have, you- youâve- heh, youâve never done this before, but youâre fairly certain that the next time they all wake up, they wonât remember theyâve forgotten anything. Theyâll pick up what pieces youâve left them and move on. So you have to make sure theyâre all settled in the lives youâve planned for them before then. And then you can get to work.
Your first stop will be Merleâs. Youâve found a community of beach dwarves that he can seamlessly fit into, only a couple hoursâ flight away. The map is back in your room.
(I go back.)
You return to your room. Magus is still laid out where you left him. Heâs soundly asleep now, thoroughly spent from the agonizing process of having his memories taken from him. It- it would almost be peaceful if you didnât know what you know.
Fisher is out of its tank, it- be- because you know the voidfish can survive out of water, you arenât too alarmed. But its- Fisher is floating in the air above Magnus, humming a slow, mournful tuneâŚÂ
⌠and grasped tenderly in its tendrils is the wooden duck that he carved for you.