#dimittere

"Heh, sorry that was kinda rude, un. You reminded me of someone I know, I had to get a better look, yeah."

"Ah...!" The smallest sound of surprise could be heard from the canopy above before a soft scraping of plastic along the lush ground of the Forest of Airaisal. The wind- or was it a pixie?- had carried the prop mask Whisper had been given from its resting place on her head, to drift down and land in front of a...VERY large man. Definitely taller than Eggman, and broadly built from head to toe rather than mostly across the middle. Single strangers didn't tend to get to her, but she had to pause at the sheer imposing figure of him.

Byron’s stomach churned. He walked along the tables adorned with food. Every few steps he’d look over the current foods presented and reach for some, only to pull away feeling sick. He really didn’t want to be vomiting up expensive fishes and such. 

Down the line he saw a gentleman who looked as though he were close to Byron’s age. That made him feel more at ease, less out of touch with everything. 

He approached as a curious but easily frightened deer might, then, swallowing hard and screwing up his courage he spoke. 

​Michael had entered the Forest of Airaisal with no real purpose in mind.  He was just trying to get away from the masses of people that were constantly milling about in the center of the wards.  Even as a child he had detested crowds; there was too much noise, too much chaos.  The only good chaos was chaos he started himself.

Loomis had said he was incapable of feeling positive emotions, but he was pretty sure ‘peace’ was somewhat a positive emotion.  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought that might’ve been how he felt right now.  It was quiet; for the first time in a long time he was experiencing true, unadulterated quiet.  He continued his trek -- pondering the concept of ‘peace and quiet’ -- when he suddenly came upon another man who’d wandered a little too far into the forest.

Ah, this man again. Vaati would even say they were acquaintances or anything of the like, but he’d at least seen him around often enough to recognize his face. Not that it was entirely hard- his height alone made him stand out from the majority of the people who lived here.

“I see you’re still around, then. Always pleasant to see familiar faces when everything here seems to come and go so freely, wouldn’t you say?” The sorcerer had his usual grin on his face, his attitude rather casual. “Are you here to investigate this library? It’s rather fascinating, for something on this island.”

☽☾ ⋯ It had been a while since she’d stepped foot in the verdant forests, now dulled and paled with a blanket of familiar snow, yet no less beautiful in their own way. Certainly, some had lost their leaves and grown barren, but even with the dimmer, lower daylight hours than before, some trees refused to bend to the season’s whims. Leian smiled. Even these unfamiliar plants, standing like stoic statues, had something in common with her after all.

What they didn’t have in common with her, were the garish fairy lights, strewn across their branches like vibrant, glowing berries. Yet, as awful as they seemed, they widened her smile all the more, as they glinted like the torches amongst the Market.

The world Octavo has found himself in is strange. It is home to people from worlds he can’t even imagine and technologies that overwhelm his senses. He hasn’t even quite made sense yet of the device he was given upon arrival. He’s been told by now that is it is a phone and that it can be used to contact people, but it seems more magic than anything to him. 

The ward he’s been housed in is particularly beyond his realm of knowledge. The buildings are taller than he’s ever seen, and the structure of them is unlike anything he’s seen. He’s not sure if he likes it, so he decides to visit another ward for the time being.

It’s as he’s walking, one hand gripping his baton in his pocket, that he nearly collides with another. He is about to simply step to the side and continue, but he finds himself rooted to the spot.

The man before him has an overwhelming presence, one that is terrifyingly familiar though at a glance, Octavo is sure he hasn’t met this man before. But even his appearance seems familiar, as if Octavo has seen him somewhere before. His expression twists to hide his suspicion (and, though he won’t admit it, mild fear) with a frown. 

Shigaraki stood with slouched shoulders, a shirt with a bloodstain on it, a jacket with several more bloodstains, hands in the pockets of his jacket, avoiding eye contact with Ganondorf. He looked absolutely nothing like a king. 

In fact he looked like somebody you might find dead on the side of the road. 

He rolled his shoulders and looked up at Ganon who was much taller than him. He raised a hand from his pocket and he gave a casual wave. A person of such little importance, greeted him like they were equals. 

“Yo, it’s me your future king. Do you remember me?” 

Shigaraki looked almost nothing like the child he once was. He had grown up into a monster. He tilted his head, there was still something childish in his mannerisms though.