#fireblazer

Bro. wtf.

Its only them. I checked. Some other peoples skills change based on if it’s Trailblazer or not (like Argenti gifts different things, and Jing Yuan cant auto kill with lighting lord) but its ONLY them where Trailblazer is just straight up immune.

Also Silver Wolf baited both of them into playing with the fact Trailblazer was participating.

fell first fell

harder

The wad of paper in her hands is heavy, very nearly as thick as her arm, and very, very, combustible. Elio had handed out the script — just at the perfect moment when they were all in the same room, he does not call meetings and probably never will — to them just a moment ago. Everyone has flipped to the first page, everyone has seen what Firefly has seen.

The Stellaron is thrusted into [REDACTED] by Kafka — their memories lost with the power they gain from it.

That is the second scene that Elio has written out. There's no dialogue between the first and second — for Elio gives them that freedom, so long as it does not interfere with further scenes — just a sudden jump.

Firefly can't bear to look at the script anymore — so she looks up. She refuses to look at Elio, sitting there so plainly. Instead, she looks at them. They're still reading the script, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. From the looks of it they're still on the first page.

Firefly swallows a breath. She waits.

They flip the page without a word.

“No.” It tumbles from her mouth softly yet still feeling heavy on her tongue. No one's eyes are on the script anymore; all eyes are on her, and it occurs to her that Elio's eyes have always been on her. “We're not going to just sit here and say nothing about it are we?” Her words increase in volume until it hurts. “We lose them and we're not going to say anything?” Her shoulders shake and the script crumbles up in her grip. “We're just going to move on?”

“Thus is the way of the script.” Elio doesn't even blink as he says that. He sits as still as a statue.

(And she hates that she knows that. That that is the truth of things. That everything will happen whether she likes it or not.)

The script falls from her hands, landing on the ground with a loud thud. “Then I want nothing to do with it!”

“Firefly-” Kafka starts, her voice sweet and soft.

Firefly turns on her heel, feet stomping away loudly without another word.

The door to the room she shares with them is a welcomed sight — their bed even more so. She collapses onto it unceremoniously, her cheek hitting the pillow. Hot, burning tears roll down from her eyes to the pillow — they're silent but they still leave stains. She curls into herself, pulling her legs up to her chest.

She's not too sure how long it's been before the door opens once again, casting light inside of the dark room. Save for a shadow of a body — their body, she knows — that slowly shrinks until it merges with the darkness after the door closes.

“How long?” She doesn't move from her position on the bed when she speaks — she doesn't even turn to look at them. “How long do I have until I lose you too?”

They climb onto the bed and it dips under their weight. They shimmy up until Firefly can make out their face in the darkness, golden eyes clearly staring at her. Their arm reaches up, tracing a pattern on her shoulder. “Tomorrow.” From the tone of their voice, Firefly knows they're frowning. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not fair,” she bites out through her tears — starting up once again from that fact after having gone dry.

“I know,” they say. A strand of hair is tucked back behind her ear. “I'm sorry.” Because just like she does, they know that nothing they can do can change this. “You'll see me again. The script says so.”

Her shoulders shake. Their arms wrap around her, pulling her close enough so she can cry into their chest instead of the pillow. “You won't remember me.” Her own arms — slightly asleep from lying on them herself — reach up, wrapping themselves around their torso. Their warmth is welcoming.

“Then,” they start, dragging the word out like they usually do when they're still thinking, “you'll just have to make me fall in love with you all over again. You managed it just fine the first time.”

There's a thousand thoughts running through her head. Because would it even really be them when she meets them again? They won't remember the experiences that make them who they are today; they won't remember the experiences they've shared together to get the two of them to this point.

She doesn't say any of them. Instead, she just says, “Hold me?”

They tighten their hold around her, just like they always do. “Of course.”

She falls asleep in their arms.