#allison conner

-

Henry knew after a bit that he had made the Seeing Tool.

It must have been an earlier version of him; after all, every cycle now had messages that integrated themselves into the world and people with ease.

Allison knew it. Tom knew it. It was incredibly odd, Henry couldn’t deny; after all, even some monsters had the golden ink over them, with small phrases or illustrations.

Maybe in another cycle, the old Henry had befriended the monsters, and they had gotten close to freeing themselves.

Maybe was a small and hopeful word, though. Even though the messages led him places, in a way, even Henry kept going in a circle.

But the messages are quiet and gentle, and sometimes seem to speak straight to him, which at times drives a stake through the whole “past me wrote this” theory.

“Who are you?” he mutters, running his fingers over a message with his free hand as he held the Seeing Tool to his face with the other.

You draw beautifully, it reads, his drawings from a few days ago highlighted and outlined in gold.

He smirks to himself. “Thanks.”

And the message stays.

Henry doesn’t mind. Whether a past version of him or somebody else wrote them, Henry thinks it’s some weird form of company. And he doesn’t care at all.

-

The cycle comes when Henry finally tells Allison and Tom about the halo and the bone they have in gold on them, glowing.

Which he hasn’t figured out. Because they’re not painted on them; they float in the air like they have real form, and Henry hasn’t quite figured out what kind of… sorcery is going on in this place that lets that happen.

Anyways. When he tells Allison and Tom, the reaction is oddly accepting.

Allison reaches above her head, groping, as if she can feel the halo.

“Really? A halo?” she asks, something like broken hope in her voice.

“Yes, and a bone for Tom.” Henry holds out the Seeing Tool. “You can look at each other’s, if you want.”

Allison hesitantly takes it, then looks at Tom through it. Her eyes widen. “Wow. That’s… interesting.”

Tom looks at Allison’s halo. He nods silently.

His gaze pans over to Henry, and he startles back.

“Tom?” Allison asks. “You okay?”

He somewhat shakily hands her the Seeing Tool, pointing at Henry. Allison raises it to Henry, and her eyes widen, a small gasp escaping her mouth.

Henry gets the impression of being on display in a zoo. “What?” he demands. “Is there… is there art on me?”

“Not just art. Words. Splashes. Your eyes, Henry, they’re bleeding gold. There are these… words all over you. Creator, artist, failure…” she falls silent, doing a full lap around Henry. “You’re golden, Henry. There’s no other way to say it.”

“Is it bad?” Henry asks.

“No-” Allison starts, but Henry looks at Tom as she comes back around to the front. Tom nods bluntly, as if to say Yeah, it’s bad.

“You’re shining, though.” Allison looks him in the eyes differently than she ever has before as she gives him the Tool back. “It’s representative of something.” “Yeah? Of what?” Henry asks. The word failure echoes inside his mind.

And the Angel shrugs. “I don’t know. But it should count for something, shouldn’t it?”

Maybe it does, Henry reasons, but looks down at his fingers as they continue walking.