#oc focused

The young girl’s hair is tipping brown as well. They both know that is not a good sign, but neither calls any attention to it. The older because she lacks the strength to have That Conversation again. The younger because she knows what she has to do and she doesn’t want to do it. Not now. Not ever even. She shouldn’t have to. The land was strong. The herbs grew well. The dead visited often. But there were facts both knew, that the current situation was proof of.

It wasn’t enough.

The Deaths Aura given off by the spirits, muses and banshees that came to enjoy the smells and flavours of their grown herbs, was simply too weak and they didn’t come often enough. Not for her family. Not for mother. Not for Oma. Not for her. She was young but it wasn’t truly enough.

Both women turn their heads when the beads covering the doorway make soft clinks and chimes as they’re pushed aside. An older woman walking in quietly on bare feet. She was in her late forties but any would think she was nearer to seventy due to the gray-streaked orange hair and worn skin. She had the hands and feet of someone who spent their time tending to plants and preparing herbs entirely by hand. Though her cloak and bird mask disguise her age and gender. She approaches the bedside, grabbing up the lady’s wrist and dangling a small berry over top. Her sad smile pulling at aged skin can be felt even if it can’t be seen, “my apologies my sweet one, it would seem your skin is no longer receptive. There is little any, living or dead, can do now”.

“I suspected as much. It is what it is”.

Both adults turn to the young girl. The bedridden women speaking softly yet almost chastising, “Sihlenta”.

The girl puts her chin on her knees, “I know”. She knows that traditionally she’s not old enough. That she hasn’t learned how to plant Spleemi the right way yet. Or how to mix Deaths Nip in a way the dead found the most pleasing. But her mother wanted to be around, wanted to watch and support her. Support her on the day that would be the last that anyone would see her bare face. When she got her mask and cloak, that all those of her heritage wore. She can’t remember what her mother's face looked like, and she’d never seen her Oma’s.

Looking to her Oma, she’s not surprised to see her holding up a folded cloak. She knows not doing this would only hurt her mother, her mother that likely didn’t even have an hour of life left in her. So she nods softly, putting the bundle of herbs onto the wicker table next to her mother's bed and the place she’ll probably die. Standing and looking up to her Oma, “I... know I’m not truly ready or that I even really want to but”, she fiddles with the browning tips of her hair, “it’s what must be. The way we are”.

The older woman nods softly herself, “Letomanes is an unkind fate, my little one. I am walking proof we can live a life, but it is hardly one lived gently or free of suffering”. The young girl nods back and lowers her head, she could already feel the ache beginning in her joints; aches that she knows will spread through her bones over time. That breathing will one day make her ribs ache. That her teeth will burn and ache at any food with even the slightest of a rough texture. That she won’t be able to sleep comfortably as her spine, arms, and ribs will scream over the pressure.

The older woman does not need to see the youngers face to see her sadness. So often did people forget their bodies showed their insides as much as their faces did. Unfolding the cloak and draping around the young girl’s shoulders, “sih~anne~tïïa, though young and still blooming, here you are home and millions of flower petals fall covering your footprints before you. However, your time of youth is at its end, changing with the season's sway. To change and not fade away. To make sure that you shall not be lost. For you we welcome with rain-soaked cloth”, buttoning the cloak closed.

The young girl looks up and makes herself smile faintly, turning to her mother as her Oma passes a birds mask to her and helps her to sit up. The mother cups her cheeks and rubs her thumbs across those cheeks, “shëa~lent, keep your dew-berry eyes and unripened apple lips. I am the shadow behind you offering you this helping hand, though bless you not be the next maiden in row. My flower may be dead, but I’ll scatter my petals down your road to hope it never ends. I’ll love you and I hope you’ll understand. Oh sweet as honey, your garden will grow even if there is where I’ll never go. Answer with laughter and may ye be free under birds wing”.

“I don’t want you to go”.

“I know, and for that I apologise”, she slips the birds mask over the younger girl’s face, clasping it around the back of her head. Both mother and Oma grabbing one side of the cloak's hood to pull it up, covering the young girl’s fox orange hair.

Not half an hour later Oma and daughter watch as the woman’s ribs rattle and her eyes leak green. Both moving to help her lay back down, the younger moving clumsily under the heavy cloak. All three feel comforted and eased slightly as a young beautiful muse floats in dancing on the air. Humming softly and moving to grab the bedridden woman’s hands. The eldest laughs lightly, “it would seem the muses have claimed you. You are to be a muse, my dear Remiana”. None of the women pay any mind to the aromas of the herbs in their masks beaks reacting to the presence of one of the dead.

“I think I’m quite fine with that”.

The muse hums and giggles, sounding like small bells on the wind. Moving her face into the face/mask of the young girl, “I’m here, don’t you fear. Little one. But rumours on the wind I bring, they sing of a mortal town to become of two worlds. Life and death with hands enjoined. Brave it will you?”, and tilts her head.

The eldest laughs slightly, “ah”, looking to the youngest, “any trip is far beyond what I can take. But you, our little one, that is a path you could take”.

The muse hums yet again, crossing her legs and moving to cradle the bedridden woman’s head in her lap, “Amity Park we hear it called, though not yet a place that dead love, things will change in time we hear”.

The young girl frowns a little but says nothing, everyone looking to the bed at rattled wheezing. Both women grabbing Remiana’s hands as she shudders. The muse humming and patting at her hair. Her breathing in shakily, “I valued, nothing more, more than, you two”. Both women pat her hands, doing their best to ignore the choking sounds.

-

A young girl sits in a garden of flowers, cloak bunched up and a bird mask reminiscent of a plague doctors with setting sunlight highlighting its angles. A much older woman walking barefoot up behind her, wind blowing her cloak in the air faintly, “so, what are you going to do, little mystic who weaves”.

The young girl looks up at the sky, watching the light gray clouds moving across it, both women ignoring the scent of death wafting off the house behind them. She plucks off a small white bell-shaped flower absently, a Grave Seer, before standing. “I will find it, this land of life and death, and maybe then...”, turning her head to look back to the elder woman, “maybe then I’ll be free”.

The elder woman nods, walking up and handing her a pouch. Putting a hand on the younger girl’s masks beak, “then may these keep you well, and may we meet again under the cherry trees after a time long from now. Practice plenty and do not turn your nose up at any bonds you may find”.

The young girl nods, hugging her Oma before turning away and taking off running. She knows her time will be short, but she’s got a town to find. A place ripe with the dead that will chase away her aches and pains. To save her from the fate of her heritage. Even if to here she’ll likely never return, you can’t return to the past. So she’ll move on with life and live, and then... then she’ll never hesitate again. Gently she hopes that if the answer she’s looking for exists where she wanders then the world will let her see it bloom. Not knowing yet the years it will take to arrive nor the young half-dead boy she’ll find in a town that straddles the line of life and death just as much as one muse, and many others she’ll meet along the way, said it did.

Orrin sighs yet smirks into his cup at the ever-familiar sound of an explosion and the smell of burning wood. Side-eyeing Dove as she hums contentedly, obviously considering it something familiar from home too. He sighs more genuinely at the loud aggressive knocking at his door.

Opening the door and leaning against the frame, “yes?”, and eyeing the dishevelled looking Rio. She looked fairly ticked off which tells him that someone went and did something they shouldn’t have and probably blew something up. How nice to know his family isn’t the only one with aggressive explosive idiots.

“That fu-darn moron”. He can’t help chuckling slightly over her ‘correcting’ herself at spotting Dove. Ahh the living were so sensitive about ‘protecting innocence’. Not that that wasn’t part of what he was attempting to do with her himself. “Jasper went and unloaded the entire artillery on that stupid poison prince”, shouldering her way in which he lets her do purely to see what might happen, “that idiot doesn’t get that it doesn’t matter what happens with that monster if we can’t take out the king”.

Orrin rolls his eyes slightly, it absolutely did matter. This little rebellion was as good as dead if his brother went down. “‘Idiot’ might be being nice I dare say”. She nods at him absently and keeps on ranting, which he doesn’t pay much mind to. Arguably this could both be in and against his interests. Dove had made quite a few friends, she seemed quite fond of them. Now the question was, would she defend them? Clearly she hardly cared for self-defence, but defence of another? If he put her in that kind of situation, what would she do? He is rather curious, but he would have rather gotten her more attached first but oh well. Brother always had to be some form of an inconvenience, didn’t he.

All three turn to the side as the window gets blown in, neither Orrin nor Dove moving or seeming all that surprised; having become rather used to sudden and largely needless destruction. Rio, however, immediately moves into a battle-ready stance and scowls deeply. Then relaxing slightly after a beat, it’s subtle but it’s there. The slight shift in stance from defending from an incoming attack to simply on high alert, “what did those boys do?! Drive that thing closer into town?!?”. She grabs Orrin with little care for his personal space and drags him off, also with little care for his personal opinions on being manhandled and shoved around like some mutt. He almost has half the mind to bash her head into the wall just a little bit. Dove hardly seems to mind it though.

“Personally, I would prefer you unhand me. I’m perfectly capable of walking away from explosions myself. In fact, I would say I am fairly adept at it”.

“Suck it up. You established you’re hard as nails a long time ago. Save all that cool calm composure for when freaking Russet isn’t here”, her scowling more, “darn demon prince”.

-

Dove tilts her head, bigger bro was here? If he found them did that mean the game was over? There was lots of bang boom and loudness. Frowning a little, but she wanted to keep playing. She liked the mortals here. She really did. None of them liked littler bro, which makes her sad. Her bro should be liked. He was very likeable. He was okay though. ‘Don’t mind’ like he always said. Maybe bigger people only liked bigger people and littler people liked littler people. And littler brother was still a big kid, a big person. Like bigger bro, not bigger like pa. No. No one was big like pa. Pa was the biggest of the bigs.

Big lady Rio makes them stop by holding out her arm in front of them as they get out of the home building. Dove hums at the destruction around, yup! Bigger bro surrounded by smoke and ash. She don’t know why Rio makes a mad face, did she not like Rusty? He did make people disappear a lot. That wasn’t very nice. She didn’t like that. He was bigger bro but littler bro was more likeable. Older not better.

Rio lady says some words Remi and Olive say are bad mean words that you shouldn’t say. Family says them a lot, so can’t be that bad right? Maybe living just no like them.

Suddenly bigger bro and someone else fly by having a boom match. The not bro man doesn’t look like he’s having fun though. Neither does the on-the-ground-man bro hits when he makes a red mess and doesn’t get up.

-

Orrin makes a point to ‘shield’ Dove, not that he truly needs to but he had an act to play. Plus, he couldn’t have her running off to that moron of a man. He is slightly thrown off by her grasping his arm tightly though. Maybe she did need to be shielded, was she truly this fragile?

Rio eyes her then whispers at him while dragging them off, “she’s never seen someone die before, has she?”. Orrin simply shakes his head, “she knows sometimes people disappear, but that is all. She has seen people get hurt, however”, Rio sends a sad sigh Dove’s way. He will never understand the living.

But... he absolutely enjoys the tenacity. Oh yes he does. Watching multiple ghost hunters and rebels blasting the high Hell out of brother dearest. Even spotting one of the secret turrets pop out. This really was a plan that would work but surely they are well aware that father will show up at this point. So what will they do? Will they launch every possible plan immediately? Take the opportunity? Or admit that they simply can not win? Quirking an eyebrow when one of the turret shots is an arrow and string, huh, so they were attempting to trap instead of only assault. Arguably smart. Father would obliterate that in less than even a fully livings heartbeat.

“I’m to guess there’s some form of a plan to deal with the big dog?”.

Rio rolls her eyes but grins almost impressively meanly, “obviously. I would have thought by now you would know we’re no joke. Besides, we got some of those freaking spooks off distracting that monster, hopefully both of them. So maybe this brat will be alone for long enough”.

Orrin blinks, well, he did not quite expect that. Particularly not on rather short knowledge. But, spotting a little black and white dot, he can’t help the sly cruel grin. Shit was about to hit the fan, so to speak, “so where are we off to?”.

She looks back at him, glancing to Dove, “getting her to the safe house, then the barax”. Ah, see that doesn’t really work well for him. In fact, it doesn’t work at all. Now that just simply won’t do.

So he grins a little more, Dove huffing at him like she does when she thinks he’s planning unpleasant things for someone. Which was fair. After all, he usually was. He certainly was now. “Ah, well then, ‘fraid that’s not something that’s gonna happen hon”, he jerks them to a stop, her whirling around on him, suspicious and confused, “I have a far better idea”, tightening his grip and yanking her towards him, “how about you-”, then spinning around and shoving her into the road, “-go play in traffic for a little while”. Orrin turns to Dove quickly, “wanna play pass?”, she gives him an unsure hum but seems interested enough. So Orrin grabs her up and turns back to the surprised and starting to look pissed off Rio, “and take the little lady with you!”, promptly throwing her at the mortal woman.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!!”.

Orrin simply points up with a grin.

-

The city goes into absolute panic emergency mode as Phantom slams down into the ground, blue flames erupting from around him and a loud snarl ringing out over the buildings. When the dust and smoke settles enough the powerful monster of a ghost looked both pissed and incredibly giddy, which was nothing short of terrifying for the town’s folk.

The entire area transforms into a battleground in an instant, the members of the resistance and ghost hunters all effectively identifying themselves to each other. This was a situation where they either died or won, staying in the shadows wasn’t an option with Phantom here. Here in a town that had genuinely attacked one of the princes. They were as good as dead already.

But amongst all that chaos one rebel was running practically threw the centre of the battlegrounds with a wide-eyed child, wondering what the goddamn fuck the girls ‘caretaker’ was thinking; or if he even was. Regardless, not even seconds pass before Phantom is floating in the air shooting massive blasts into the city.

Nearly everyone stops as there’s a shout of, “OH RUSTY!”, in a singsong mocking voice. Giving one hunter the chance to run a distracted Russet through with a crystallised blood blossom extract spear, just as one of Phantom’s blasts destroys the turrets.

-

Dove is looking around everywhere, there are parts of mortals flying around, red everywhere, they’re making loud noises, pa is there laughing and making things go boom, bigger bro’s on the ground, lady Rio is running and whipping her face around like crazy while saying lots of mean words she thinks are about bro, when both of them and almost everyone look to her littler bro. Ori was standing on a sidewalk, against a wall, grinning wild. People always disappeared, died, when he looked like that. So she makes a sad huff when he yells bigger bro’s name but like he’s singing a lullaby.

Then Rusty’s making hurty loud noises and suddenly her and lady Rio are looking at him and there’s green and red everywhere and he doesn’t look like he likes it and pa looks mad. She tries to leans towards him so he won’t hurt no more but lady Rio turns away and holds her real tight.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU CALL HIM!?!?!?”.

Ori laughs, “I’m more like my grand uncle than father would like!”. Dove just sees him hold out his arms in a shrug from the corner of her eyes. “In that, I prefer to play the long game. Or entertain myself with chess and all the little pieces of it I can find, as that dead old coot would say!”. Dove can hear the grin in littler brother's voice but that doesn’t matter right now, Rusty needs help! He’s hurting!

Chunks of the road and buildings are getting blown to bits as pa stops anyone from getting near bro, protects bro. She has to get to him. Has to help him. Bro isn’t strong. She knows this. She’ll help him just like pa. She’ll be a good little girl. She knows littler bro told her not to but she hopes he won’t be mad or sad as she phases through lady Rio’s arms.

To focused on flying at her Rusty to stop at lady Rio getting blasted at the ground towards Ori. Or Olive laying missing her little legs. Or the mortals laying around without their beating sounds, in circles of red. Or noticing how the battleground paused for a split second over the floating child going at the Poisoned Thorn Prince.

-

Orrin chuckles faintly down at Rio as she struggles to stand up, a scowl on her face, “you”, coughing, “you bastard”. He just grins, flashes his glowing blue eyes, and winks cheekily. She immediately body slams him into the wall, “ah ah. I would do that if I were you”.

She practically growls at him, “and why the Hell not”.

Orrin chuckles, “don’t you have a little girl to protect? And you just let her slip through your grasp. Now what kind of mother does that I wonder”, he continues as she just snarls at him and presses him into the wall more, “besides, I can see two ways this can go. I’m equally interested in either or, frankly. Because tell me, what made those two wonderful little monsters that are mother and father dearest, the monsters they are today? Why all they had to do was watch the people they cared about die and betray them”, he grins very meanly at her paling. So he leans his head towards her face, “or perhaps, she could defend those bonds. With the living she’s met. After all, that idiot of a brother has shot her point-blank and left not even a singe to be seen”.

That gets her to step back, understanding flashing across her face. Good. Looks likes this was a good time to places the cookie crumbs. Not that he was anything close to subtle there. But then again, wars and battlegrounds hardly called for subtleties. “You- you planned this”.

Orrin shrugs, “oh hardly. Russet showed of his own accord. Simply doing what is in his nature to do. And frankly, you lot really do seriously underestimate how protective father is”, chuckling, “to think he would be distracted and not come immediately”.

She scowls at him but moves to pin him again, but against the ground, as the wall near them explodes. Her looking around wildly, both of them watching one of the hunters intercept Dove and try moving her away from the area. Dove squirming and trying to phase away, though unable due to the hunters' suit. Rio muttering, “if that’s- then why isn’t she attacking Jestine?”, sounding genuinely befuddled.

Orrin rolls his eyes, “she’s a pacifist”.

Rio snaps her head to him, “what?”. Which he simply rolls his eyes at again and gives her a look that says that should have been obvious. Dove didn’t have a violent bone in her body, that was more apparent every day. He decides to be truly and genuinely honest, curious what she’ll make of it, “our family would destroy her”.

Rio blinks at him, “you didn’t plan this”, standing up, “you were running away”. He doesn’t bother arguing that beyond huffing slightly indignantly, as she points at a couple of guys, “hold him, with ecto-weapons”, and runs off after Dove. Orrin simply chuckles at the two men that scowl at him.

He’ll stay put for now. He’s got a show to watch.

-

“HOLD ON! I KNOW HER!”.

“JACKET NOW! KID’S TRYING TO PHASE LIKE CRAZY! WHAT IS SHE THINKING!”.

“YOU DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW”.

Dove whips her head around at arms she knows wrapping around her, seeing lady Rio holding her again. But she still couldn’t get past the purple jacket! And bro was still hurting! And they were trying to make him hurt! Didn’t they know when playtime was over?!? She knows her eyes are wet as she points at bro, maybe lady Rio will understand her. But her saying, “Dove honey”, makes her stop. Lady Rio never said her name? Why?

Lady Rio swallows, the two of them huddling on the ground as chaos and loudness is everywhere around them, “or Robin if you like that. Russet, or... Rusty, has done a lot of bad and, and sometimes people who do bad things have to be punished or they’ll hurt people. Make more people disappear”. Dove doesn’t get to think on that as the ground next to them gets smashed apart and they go flying. Lady Rio rolling across the ground and not moving.

Dove doesn’t know where to look. Lady Rio is hurt, Rusty is hurt, pa got hit by something and looks not happy, Olive, and Remi, and Jasper, and Maseti, and Shilenta, and so many people. There’s too much. Too many. Where does she look? Where does she go? Mortals so easily to hurt but bro...

Was he bad? Did he ‘deserve this’? But, watching them hit him with another glowy pole thing, he couldn’t take much more. They were going to make him go away! That- no.

“YOU CAN EITHER FIGHT BACK OR WATCH ALL THE FRIENDS YOU'VE MADE HERE DIE!”. Dove snaps her head to littler bro, tears on her cheeks. “WHAT'LL IT BE! DOVE!”. Everyone snaps their heads to her then, even Rusty and pa. She almost doesn’t catch, “and what will you do to or for her, mortals? To the little Golden Princess? The youngest of the monsters you so hate?”.

Hate? Ma... and pa... and bro’s. Are they not liked? Hated? But why- snapping her head around as another purple suit grabs her arm and pulls to the side, the ground exploding again. So many were hurt. Were hurting. Because... because family was here.

“EVERYONE’S GOING TO DIE BECAUSE YOU DID NOTHING! THEY'LL ALL BE GONE!”.

No.

She doesn’t want this.