✯ COSMIC CHILDREN

“I will protect this robot with my very life–”

♛  she’ll take this with a grain of salt. she’s felt like she’s been pulled around by this elder’s sibling —- her father, everyone. she was angry about it, just like she was with cassandra — she wanted some sort of truth ; maybe she can trust this capellan. she watched him gesture, taking it with a small frown.

watching the tea, she sighed.  ❝            fine. talk.         ❞

“my sister and i worked for the military, and that night oddfrid and i had been ordered to find and kill former captain raelyn, who you’ll recall is cassandra’s grandmother. our higher ups hoped it would crush the morale of the rebels- at the very least, perhaps the grief would impair cammilyn’s judgement.”

winfrid stirred his tea, and continued. “we found her. oddfrid killed her with...a worryingly amount of glee. but raelyn hadn’t been alone- she’d been watching over her grandchildren, cassalyn and brooklyn, who fled through the back door as we fought raelyn. then, after the fight, oddfrid and i had the same vision.”

winfrid is, more or less, a composite character of what i had headcanoned the ursus foreteller to be like, before we even knew his name, and beckett, an oc of mine. ursus was to be cassandra’s teacher and mentor, teaching her about her clairvoyance and fighting, and beckett was this sweet mage who was best friends with hotaru, who was a prototype for evelyn. 

winfrid is the person cassandra goes to for advice, particularly because he knows about atlas. he is ice inclined and the center of his inclination is serenity and softness, like powdery snow.

“i know what my sister has told you,” the elder ice inclined capellan said. “and i must tell you, it is a very biased version of the events.”

     The sharp change of tone in Atlas’s voice served as a warning that things were about to go very wrong, but nothing could have prepared Splinter for the events that followed, when Shen suddenly lit up like her flesh was flash paper and everything began to fall apart.

      Splinter was unable to subdue the shout that left his throat as he fell back, the perfect recreation of the woman he loved crumbling with the crackle of bone losing structure, and the violent pop of bodily fluids turning to steam in the searing heat. Before her charred figure was even done collapsing his childhood home followed suit, torn from the surroundings like a paper curtains to reveal a wretched New York city in the throes of destruction, Kraang ships passing overhead and splitting buildings apart while shrieks of sorrow and horror rang out in the distance

Wake up. This is merely a dream you fool, don’t let it frighten you. Just wake up!

   Splinter’s hand suddenly touched something warm and sticky, thick with congelation. He lifted his hand… now once again the three fingered hand of a rat… to his face and saw the copper red tint clinging to his palm through the newfound darkness. Upon further examination he discovered it’s source: his sons and his daughter scattered around him in various stages of mutilation, all of them dead.

                        It’s not real. It’s not real                    Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

         Splinter’s stomach lurched, and he barely held back an impulse to vomit as he shifted forward onto his knees and cupped his hands over his maw, his breaths turning sharp and rapid as he worked to remind himself- despite everything his senses claimed- this was all fake. A hallucination. A shadow of a makeshift reality, like a play or a magic show.

   Desperate now to fix his attentions on anything other than his surroundings, his eyes found Atlas, who had also gone through her own unnerving set of changes; clawed hands and wide empty eyes a swirling echo of a cruel unfeeling cosmos. Determined to hold it together, Splinter forced himself to his quaking feet and faced her.

       “That… would have to depend on your motive”

How pathetic. 

Forced to his knees by the sight in front of him and hands over his mouth in terror, and yet, Atlas felt no joy in the success of this hellish vision she’d constructed. She was annoyed more than anything, and she couldn’t understand why.

Then, with trembling legs, he got to his feet and faced her, and that annoyance only grew. Oh yes, like he could really stop her- only one person had figured out how to stop Atlas all on her own, and she had been dead for over fifteen years.

“My motive?” Atlas echoed, as if it was a ridiculous question. Did he really not know? Had he not figured it out? Had- oh...oh, this gave Atlas an idea.

She turned away from him, remembering viscerally how it felt to live within Cassandra’s body- what her strength felt like, what aches and pains from old wounds still troubled her...Atlas remembered all of it. If she was truthful, she actually missed wearing Cassandra’s skin.

“I’m almost insulted,” she said, her blonde hair slowly growing curlier and more golden. Small changes started adding up- Atlas seemed taller, more muscular, and when she turned back around, it was clear why. 

“Did she really tell you that little about me that you can’t guess?” Atlas asked, her smile malicious. All at once, the swirling cosmos retreated from her face and arms- revealing tattoos written in Capellan script, and a very familiar scar on her face. 

She was identical to Cassandra save for her eyes; Cassandra’s eyes were a warm brown that seemed to radiate affection, while Atlas’ were icy blue and spoke the madness hidden behind them. 

🐢 mikey sighed as he watched her, hand rubbing the back of his neck before he simply stayed put && sat down in front of her, arms leaning on his knees with a small frown. he was worried && it showed. he wasn’t giving her pity just because —- she was a living being && that’s all that mattered to him

people matter. everyone deserves to receive help. humility.

❝                 well. i’m not going anywhere so, you’re stuck with me, dude.             ❞

“why can’t you just leave me alone?” 

        atlas didn’t understand it. she didn’t like it. kindness and compassion had long since become foreign concepts to her- traits to be mocked and derided when found in others. kindness was rarely pure, often tainted with selfish intentions or a desire to put one’s mind at ease. and when it was pure? it was foolish. atlas was suspecting this turtle’s kindness of being the latter variety.

“if i had my power you would be dead ten times over.