#bitterresolve

There are times he has dreams of the way things used to be, of spending time with his son. Times of old, before the sword took him over, and it fills him with a mixture of nostalgia, joy and sorrow. However, he will never say it out loud. He merely awakens from them, smiling for the briefest of moments before his expression falters.

If there were ever a more miserable face among those along the Great Icing Ridge, Golden Cheese was one that truly outshone them all whether intended or not. The golden monarch made it well clear to everyone around her how much she wished for a warmer setting- more luxurious, too. At most, pulling her thick lined coat closer against her and her wings was the sole comfort at present.

"Radiant as I am, this cold climate does not suite one such as I." She stared ahead at Dark Cacao's back and frowned at how he managed it. Nothing was pressed on the matter, but she had a feeling it would fall along the lines of 'adapting' to the surroundings much as she preferred the more opposing region for home.

Glorious wings would soon turn to icicles at this rate, but after another series of dragged out groaning did Golden Cheese nearly trip onto the battle warrior king.

they take a deep breath, stiffening up instinctively as their father approaches. dark choco doesn't know what he wants, but the guilt of the injuries of that day, buried deep beneath their dough, begins to surface like ripples in the water. they blink their working eye in slight surprise as dark cacao pulls his hand away from them just as fast.

.........huh ?

dark choco sighs, lowering their gaze. " .....too scared to hurt me ? " they mutter in a gravelly, pained tone. " didn't you know your gentle touch was all i wanted ? all i needed ? father.... stay. " please.

@bitterresolve / sc!

smoked cheese cookie is as haughty as his queen. perhaps even more so, when it comes to greed.

while still without a proper body, he is still able to traverse as needed, and he's going straight to the cacao kingdom to broker his own alliance with dark cacao. it's probably something he should have discussed with golden cheese, but hey ― smoked cheese likes having power.

"so," he says, to the king. he's not even sure if anyone is listening to him. smoked cheese also doesn't care. "i would be more than happy to take on any delegations from you, in order to give my queen a break. she still is under a lot of duress and trying to recover with her own problems. i am simply taking it upon myself to act on her behalf. any correspondence you have will be dealt with by me. i assure you, i speak for Her Majesty." he nods proudly.

...What? WHAT?! He COULDN'T be serious! Right? RIGHT?!?!

He was screwing with him. He HAD to be! Well, that's what he'd think if he even had the slightest inkling that Dark Cacao was anything but stone-faced and serious. He wanted so badly to write it off as a cruel joke, as the King just scoffing at him like every other stuck-up aristocrat! But, deep down inside he knew he was bullshitting himself. He, in fact, could NOT bullshit himself out of this. Licorice also wasn't sure if his heart was beating against his chest this hard because he was curious, or because of WHO it was that had wondered about his feeling on the matter.

How does one even RESPOND to this? What to say? What to say? Dear witches above WHAT TO SAY? Don't just stand there with a stupid, shocked look on your face, Licorice! Do you want him to retract that statement and think you a fool!? Wait... Why did he care if he retracted it? They were enemies, after all! Well...There was that olive branch he kept swatting away, and the fact that he looked and sounded genuine when he said those things...and...well, he was good looking...NO! He wasn't going to think too deep on this! It only complicated things he didn't want to face.

"I just-" He stammered. "You-You can't just have me SAY that! W-What are you trying to gain?! It won't get me on your side a-any faster!" It was a pitiful denial. A sad mask he desperately tried to pull on, when he knew none of that was true. Dark Cacao wouldn't ask something he didn't mean. Even HE knew that, and the fact that he was shaking like a leaf, left unable to process that, feeling as if his heart might explode in his chest was a testament to what he really acknowledged.

Every word was a blow, a silent truth that ate him from the inside like a virus. Things he knew but he'd never admit. Things he felt, but held beneath the surface with feigned optimism while he hid himself away and wept over scrawled words and sleepless nights of trying to be 'better' to be 'worthy' to give her a reason to stay by her side. To be...special, to be claimed, wanted, by SOMEONE...by ANYONE. For someone to care, for any shred of warmth and appreciation.

"I-If that was true, she wouldn't have come to me first." His voice wavered. "She came to me! She acknowledged my strength and potential and..." Flashes of all of the times he'd failed, her glare of disapproval, her twisted frown that hung above him like an imposing monolith of damnation. They were right...even SHE had told him how useless he was. His tasks were reduced from those of praise to menial tasks like babysitter and janitor. Every day, he strained, he trained, his practiced...if he was good, would he need to get better? If she appreciated him, would she not give him bigger tasks, more important jobs? More relics to hunt? The very soul jams themselves?

It was true! It all was true! No one had ever had faith in him. Simply being baked into creation caused him nothing but misery and suffering. Looked down on by everyone he ever tried to impress, spit on by those that were supposed to be his saviors, those who were supposed to protect him... He couldn't even become a wizard...so he turned back to his roots in black magic - the misunderstood art of dancing with the dead. Corpses were more his friend than any cookie. He felt more kindred with cakes - those deemed MONSTERS, than he felt with any cookie.

for something specifically writing related - i love how much personality your replies have! even the narration is a good display of the character you're writing, with their internal and external thoughts about a situation alike.