#reversedpsync 1

People are swimming in the nighttime ocean, attended by fireflies that make the air and water sparkle alike. Meta Knight is on the shore, several of the flickering bugs perched on his head and armor. He hears something behind him - footsteps he didn’t notice until they were close.

❝ HELP!! ❞

A lone child's voice echoes out into the Mists, spotting the partially-obscured forms of what could be a person ( @reversedpsync ) approaching. He's tiny, clothed in an oversized tunic draped over a neck-down patterned bodysuit. He's been crying.

The kid's hands and back is pressed up against a giant glass orb, spilling out bright red light diffused into pink through the liquid it contains within, almost giving the illusion that he's holding it up.

❝ Help…! ❞ he tries again, still shouting even though he can see that someone's on the way. The child hiccups, stammers out that ❝ The Plant—it's, it's not…! The Plant can't hear me! It's hurt, and I-I— can't…! ❞

There's a form floating within the orb, unconscious and unresponsive just as the little kid says, although not hurt or in nearly as much distress. Vash is suspended in the fluid, his red coat unfurling up and behind him; rising like attached corolla of a flower.

But at least she could still practice her aim a little, at least.

Standing a good dozen yards away from a post she’d set a tin can on by her Yesteryear encampment, Mao focused her single eye on the distant target. Lifting her disciplined, gaze focused, she hesitated for a moment... before throwing a single punch forward.

And in almost an instant, her target would fly, dented from the invisible impact of her fist. ... But just as she had done so, someone had come out from the brush in a hurry. There’d been similar wooden posts nearby— all a part of some old fence’s remains— and it seemed like someone had also been currently training. And as they leapt over one of said stands, the impact of Mao’s distant fist sent that empty can flying right into the side of their head.

Ah, shit.

Mao would quickly jog over to Ryuki, waving a hand. “Hey— you alright?”

     The force of her fist against that can was about was strong as one of her regular punches against an object, so while it was only a can... well, it probably hurt a bit.

He’s carrying too much. This had been hubris in the first place, not just dropping things into the ethereal chest, but it’s getting kind of packed in there, so he’s exiting the library with his arms full of a messy stack of books and papers.