#sloops

Isa gets to Bonnie just a few minutes after you do.

You’d expected him to be noisier than you. Messier. It’s Isa, after all. He’s not an actor or a liar. But he watches you stammer excuses at (a very disoriented) Bonnie without saying a word. His face is pale, his eyes rimmed with red. He must have cried the whole way here. But now that he’s here, he’s gone utterly silent.

* * *

“Sif,” he says hoarsely, when you’re finally strong enough to walk away.

You look at him.

“We can’t keep this a secret anymore.”

“But—”

“Sif,” he says again. He’s pale as a corpse, but there's no hesitation in his voice. “If we couldn’t stop that, then we—we can’t be responsible for this. Not alone. Not if there’s any chance we could do better by telling the others.”

“But they’ll—”

Isa shakes his head. “I-I’m sorry, Sif, but I’m not asking.”

Huh. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen Isa put his foot down like this. It’s… disconcerting.

“Okay,” you mumble. Okay, okay, okay, this is—yeah. Yeah. Yes. You can definitely see where he’s coming from. If you can’t even protect Bonnie, then what are you good for? “Okay, I—”

You hesitate. You know it’s what you deserve, but… you don’t want them to hate you.

“…You really want to tell them everything?”

“I mean, yeah? Yes.”

Like it’s that simple.

For Isabeau, it probably is. He just got here. He’s not the one who’s been lying to his famil— to his allies for months and months and months of the same miserable day. Taking their trust and forging it into a blade to swing at them.

You clear your throat. “How?”

“We don’t really need a game-plan, do we? Surely we can just… talk? To our friends? Like normal people?”

Ha ha. Of course. Like normal people.

Isabeau’s head tilts. “How would you go about it?”

Well. You already know how you’d go about it, because it literally just happened, like, three loops ago. You’d just foist it off on Loop.

“Ohhh,” Isa realizes. “You’d make Loop do it.”

“...Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“You’re right, though,” he says seriously. “They’re part of this too.”

Ah. Well. The only problem with that is, if you show up at Loop’s tree with your entire party in tow, you’re pretty sure that they might actually kill you. To get out of the conversation, if not just to be petty. “Um. I think I maybe have to warn them first.”

“Okay! Yeah, that makes sense! So you’ll go warn Loop, and I’ll talk to the others.”

Hm. That doesn’t sound so bad. It gets you out of talking to the others. And there’s no one easier to talk to than Loop. “…Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Okay!!!” Isa musters the briefest flicker of a smile. “Then I’ll— Or, I guess, we’ll see you at the Favor Tree.”

* * *

When you get to their Tree, Loop is nowhere to be found. But you traveled alone for years before you fell in with the best chef cooker in Vaugarde. You know how to track prey.

They didn’t have time to go far. Just a short stretch down the hillside, across a stream and behind a thicket of… blackberries, you think, though it’s hard to tell out of season.

You find Loop sitting on a tree stump, drumming their heels against the trunk.

“There you are.”

You’d expected a reaction. A flicker of surprise, at least. But when Loop looks up, their face is utterly resigned. They hold their stare for just long enough to spike your anxiety before turning away. “Haha. Yes, well. Here I am.”

“Um. We were… Or, I mean.” You scuff your feet in the dirt. “I… wanted to introduce you to my friends?”

“Oh, did you???” Loop asks brightly. “Fascinating!!! Because—and do forgive my ignorance—from where I’m sitting, it looks like you wanted to keep me to yourself until you had an ugly job you didn’t want to deal with.”

Ah. Well. Yes. That is technically also true. “But—”

“No!!!” Their face flares so bright that you can’t even see their glare. Then they let out their breath and the brilliance recedes, leaving you blinking the spots out of your eyes. “No. I don’t care. I’m not here to clean up your messes! I’m not interested and I’m not going, so don’t bother asking.”

You don’t bother asking. You’ll carry them the whole way if you have to. If you’re really going to tell your family about how you’ve been manipulating them this entire time, you are absolutely not going to do it alone.

“No,” they breathe, eyes widening, as you drop into a fighting stance. “No, come on, be reasonable—”

A half-second later, you collide with their chest like something launched out of a trebuchet.

“Excuse me!!!!” Loop sputters, clawing at your arms. “Are you a wild animal?? Did no one ever teach you how to argue like a normal blinding person??”

“You said not to ask.”

They try to twist free but you’ve got them backed against a tree, so there’s nowhere to go.

“We don’t have to fight about this,” you inform them. “Just come with me.” In your honest opinion, they’re being a little ridiculous. It’s not like it’s Loop that everyone’s going to hate. The only villain in this story is you.

You dig your elbow a little deeper into their throat, just to drive the point home.

Loop gives you a saccharine smile. “Aww. Did you really think I had to breathe?”

They hoist themself off the ground with both hands and slam their heels into your chest, knocking you back into the leaf litter. Before you can scramble out of reach, they’re already on you.

“You’re being sooooo~ stupid about this,” they purr. “You think dragging me into your mess will help you? No. No. You’re a joke to me. Your logic is a joke. And, stardust~~? If you bring those puppets here, I swear on all the Stars, I will kill them. Oh, they’ll come back!” they add, with a tinkling little giggle. “But you’ll remember. You’ll know what you did.”

“Why???”

“None of your business!!!”

When they shift their weight to get a better angle, you slip a foot around their ankle and hook your knee around their hip and flip them on their back. Loop takes the time to wink at you before spitting sparks in your eyes, taking advantage of your momentary blindness to slam their elbow into your nose. You hear something crr-rnch. The impact rings in your ears, floods your mouth with copper. When they twist around to gain the advantage, you're too dizzy to stop them.

You’re still tussling blind when you hear your name.

“Sif?” It’s Isa’s voice, muffled by the trees. “Loop? Are you guys there?”

You open your mouth to answer but before you can get a word out, Loop stuffs their whole hand in your mouth. You bite down, hard. Viscous fluid spills down your chin, fizzes on your tongue.

“Ow!!! Are you a rabid dog???”

You bare your teeth at them. “I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult!!”

“Aaaahhhahahahhhha! Of course you don’t!! How could you!?”

“You could tell me!!”

They lean in even closer, slamming their forehead against yours. “Learn to read between the lines!!!”

You try to flip them over but it’s like they know all the same tricks, only better. You’re still scrabbling for purchase when they slide your knife out of its sheath and press the blade to the side of your throat, right where you always make the cut. You take care of your tools. It barely takes any force at all to slice through cartilage and bone.

“Do it,” you taunt. “I'll be back in five minutes.” You could do this for days. Weeks. It’s a nice change of pace. And it’s exhilarating.

“You think I won't?” Tracing your jugular with the point of your blade.

“Then do it.”

Loop presses down harder, till you feel the characteristic sting of breaking skin. Warmth trickles down your neck. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

“Would you?”

Loop digs the knife in deeper. “I can think of nothing I’d like more.”

Maybe you shouldn’t understand that, but you do. You don’t like getting killed by the King. You don’t like getting crushed by the rock-trap or carved open by a Sadness, but you don’t think you’d mind getting killed by Loop. Loop knows you. They’d know what it meant. It wouldn’t feel any different than dying by your own hand.

“Loop,” you breathe, as they lean in closer.

“Stardust~~?”

“Are we gonna kiss?”

Loop jerks back like they’ve been burned.

“What is wrong with you???” They give you a revolted glare before flitting to their feet and brushing themself off, still shuddering. “Stars above, you are such a little narcissist!!”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you snort, reaching up to pluck the last few leaves still lodged in the miasma of their surface.

Loop huffs a bitter laugh. “What do you need me for, anyway? They’re not going to trust a—” Their face tightens. “A total stranger. Not everyone’s as stupid as you, teehee!”

“But you’re better at explaining.”

“That’s why?” Loop tries and fails to hold back a startled little giggle. “There’s not even anything to explain!! ‘We’re stuck in a time loop.’ There, I wrote the whole script for you.”

“But you’re…” You don’t know how to say it. What did Isa say, again? “You’re… part of this? You’re here, too.”

Loop turns away. “Haha. Well. I guess I am.”

* * *

When you stagger back to your Tree, you’re both worse for the wear. Your surface is cracked and pockmarked, void-fluid and starlight seeping through the seams. Your stardust, of course, is leaking much more conventional blood. It’s drying in the corners of his mouth, in the creases of his eyes. You can see it dripping from a deep gash in their forehead. (You don’t feel sorry. You don’t.)

The Fighter takes one look and does a ridiculous, cartoonish double-take. “W-Woah!!! What the crab happened to you guys??”

“Just a friendly conversation,” you say sunnily.

To your surprise, your stardust nods. “That’s right.”