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blorbfoosh · 2 months

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Chapter 5 -

“Imbeciles.” He growled, hitting her across the cheek, and sending her to the floor. She gasped, putting a hand to her stinging cheek. The man standing before her leered, before walking away. “Let her example be a sign of what will happen to YOU if you were one inch short of perfection. Dismissed.” He declared, snapping his fingers. She scrambled to her feet, to walk with the other workers, when a rough, calloused hand grabbed her wrist, dragging her close. “As for you... I’m not done with you yet.” She kicked and screamed but to no avail. He was wearing her down, weighing her down, and the last thing she saw before blacking out was a silver-laced grin. Aden gasped awake, scratching at her arms and torso, where ghosts of hands handled her roughly. ..what was that? She looked at her clock. 2:46 A.M. She balled her hands into fists, forcing herself to stop scratching. Where was Fr- Oh, there he was. Her beloved strawberry cat plushie, Fraysier. She held the little deity in her arms, careful not to squeeze him too hard. He was always so comforting. She hoped to free him one day. Getting up out of bed, she opened the glass doors leading to her balcony and stepped out into the chilly January night. Resting on the metal frame of the fence, she stared at the city below her. ..what was the reason for her existence? Why was she brought here? How long will this go on? She felt like nothing changed in the eight years she’s lived in Tivers- In Chandler City. Sure, people came and went, trends grew in and out of style, and her kids grew ever older. But.. She never really changed. Never truly improved from the woman she was back on the isles. That fact bit at her insides, making her shiver. She can’t sleep now, can she? Oh, well. Best be productive, right? She went in, closed the doors to the balcony, and made her way to her office. No sleep for her tonight, it seemed. Again.

Quentin took a deep huff of his cigar, putting his feet up on his gilded walnut table. His robotic prosthetic ran absentmindedly through his curly, chocolate hair, taking care to avoid the moth clip adorning it. He was bored. Didn’t fuckin’ ask to babysit his uncle’s strip club. Hellfire. Sister companies with the restobar/nightclub down the road, the Ashen Sunset. Quentin didn’t give a shit, though. He groaned, muttering about how he could be doing much more important matters if that traitor didn't steal the mouseling from under his nose. He swore he’ll find that bitch, and tear them apart. Taking his feet off of the table, he groaned, pacing around. What to do, what to-.. The moth clip suddenly glowed, spraying a little whiff of a sickly sweet scent-.. Dragonfruit? It wafted around the air, and Quentin caught it quickly. Standing up straight, he’d gently tap his moth clip. In front of him, a neon purplish light shined, weaving around the air, creating an intricate design of what seemed to be wings. The wings slowly unfurled, making a portal. Quentin grinned, hastily scribbling a note to his uncle about his disappearance. After all, he would understand. When the great moth calls, you must answer, right? He jumped through the portal, feeling the familiar sensation of wind-.. And that slight burning, like the winter winds whipping at your face. Acid. That’s how they travel around and to him. Where raindrow is, that’s where they can go with the aid of the great moth. Big T. Torah Bellerose, god of corruption, devil of greed- Past demi-god of Karma and Fortune. His boss. Landing softly on the gravel, he stared up at the large, imposing tower that stood before him. Most knew it as the casino, but to those who walk with Bellerose… They know what lies inside. Glancing up at the stone archway protruding out of the glass-covered tower, he looked at the neon purple sign above the archway which read ‘Demi’s Luck.’ Pretty damn ironic, considering who runs it. He appreciated the smooth transition from stone to glass. Pretty fuckin’ clever, the design. Walking into the establishment, he greeted the door people and took a breath, basking in the purple light. He could smell smoke of different kinds, the faint scent of certain liquids, and that sweet scent. It was strongest-... There. He maneuvered through the crowds, passing the card-game tables, the games built to rid ya of G, the cafe and bar, walking through the ballroom and up the grand staircase, leading to his boss’s office. Knocking three times on the door, Quentin fiddled awkwardly with his hair. He didn’t usually take this long to reply…

“Come in.” A gruff voice with a slightly robotic quality answered, and Quentin relaxed, pushing the door open. The office was a bright contrast to the casino. Instead of being bathed in purple light, it’s a gentle yellow instead. The floors were of grey marble tile, and overall it looked more modern and futuristic of a sort. Bookshelves lined the walls, full of ancient history and notes of something. A tall, imposing shadow loomed over a desk, dual-colored wings folded neatly on his back, large, fluffy antennae twitching agitatedly. “Good. You’re here.” The figure turned, revealing a uniquely fashionable fellow. Chocolate skin, lush, wavy black hair cascading over his shoulders- And the clothes? A beautiful white button-up with a yellow, purple, and black splattered boa, his pants black palazzos, fading to white at the feet- And white, high-heeled ankle boots. Besides the wings, other unique features include a gas-like mask, except that the canisters are filled with a bright, colorful acid, swirling around. A purple, pupilless eye stared down coldly at him, a bright sheen seeming to emanate from it, dragging Quentin in further. To o b e y. Blinking out of the trance, he saw Torah step aside, and gesture to a holographic screen. Taking this sign to step forward, he took a closer look at what was happening. He saw a humanoid drone, with peachy, yellowish skin and wavy black hair, a bang swooped to the side, hiding an eye. He had white oval glasses and a l o n g snoot. An Addi. Spamton variant, actually. That white streak told him all he needed to know. Besides the faded, dual-colored suit and white, wide-legged pants. But that shell seemed a bit too soft-.. Like a puppet.

He seemed to be getting ticked off by a customer in front of him, yapping on about something. Torah slammed a hand on the table, a soft growl escaping him. Seems like he didn’t like the Addi on the screen. “Quentin. I have a job for you. You see this puppet, yes?” “Yes, sir. Do you want me to-” The moth waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head.

“No, I don’t want you to exterminate him. I want you to go cause him pain in any and every way. Do whatever. Just cause him pain. Slow and sweet. Make him regret crossing me. The Great Moth.” Upon saying this, he placed his other hand on the table, leaning close to the hologram. Anger sparked in his eyes, and he gripped a fist, making Quentin step back subconsciously. He did not want to anger Bellerose. Oh, the stories told about who has angered the moth.. Quentin could go on about the blood-chilling tales for ages. But he had a job to do. Nodding at Bellerose, he’d take the file on the table and take his leave, exiting the casino. Finally, a job. Aleena curled around a ragged blanket, shifting in her makeshift bed in the fire exit of a penthouse. She spent the whole night maneuvering up, up, up the building, checking for places to sleep. Her magic wasn’t that strong, being a mere halfling- But 8 years of being alone honed her skill well. It just exhausted her. ..At least the skel she bumped into was kind enough to hand her some food. They were about roughly five feet, with bright amethyst eyelights, and a golden circlet. A plain, loose, dark purple blouse clothed his figure and black bellbottoms for his legs. Black flat ankle boots tapped nervously on the asphalt as they shared a quick chat. He wasn’t much, but he was nice. Aleena appreciated people like those. The world needed more kind souls. Groaning, she’d adjust her body again, before wiggling around. ..The fuck was prodding her- Rolling here and there, she’d maneuver her body around in the small space, trying to make her sleeping spot more comfortable. She’d pull out a rusty gun prototype out of the rags and shudder, tossing it at the trapdoor. It made a faint ‘clunk’ and Aleena winced, hiding under the mossy-colored blanket. She remembered hearing voices outside earlier.

The door swung open slightly, just a crack, letting warm orange-ish light stream through. Blinking as her eyes adjusted, she squinted, observing her surroundings. It was a nice room, with a medium-sized bed, peach covers making it look warm and inviting. A white sideboard drawer stood beside it, hosting a lamp and a few folders. But what she saw on the bed was more intriguing than the background. She saw a woman in her mid-late 20’s, cradling someone, singing softly to them. Her voice was quiet yet strong, reaching even to her ears. It was in a language she didn’t understand, yet it was familiar. Then, another voice joined along in the singing, and the two dueted in harmony. Utter music to Aleena. They stayed like that for a while, before the woman stood up, and left, bidding the other farewell. This was when they turned around, and caught eyes with Aleena, which made her swiftly close the door and turn around, burrowing under the thin blanket once more. The metal door rattled, and Aleena stayed stock still. Warm light bathed the cool fire exit, and a groggy voice mumbled. So.. Close. Shit. It caught on the blanket, and it tugged, slowly revealing a shell-shocked Aleena. Aleena, slowly turning to find the culprit and found no other, but the girl she followed(but lost), a few days ago, clad in a baggy hoodie and fuzzy slippers, her bi-colored hair running aloof and all over the place. She merely blinked at Aleena, before smiling warmly. Blue and green orbs sparked with interest, seeming to bore into Aleena and try and tug the past out and away. That feeling was odd. Like she was being scanned. ..This interested her. What exactly was this kid about? What could she be hiding? It was just itching at her, bugging her to go and get the information to carefully dissect it all. “...You’re pretty badass, miss.” Those were the first words that made her genuinely laugh in a long time. Her laughing made the other girl laugh as well, and soon, we had two gals snorting about nothing like sisters. The shorter, still chuckling, calmed down fairly easily and once again made eye contact with the hybrid skel. “My name’s Psyche. Psyche Olonor Vuidenne. And you?” No harm in trying. As long as she can crash rent-free, yeah? “The name’s Aleena. No last name.” Psyche nodded, her curls bouncing with her excited movements. “Well, Aleena, welcome to the fam. Not officially, of course. I’ll sneak you food and everything and you can live in secret cause I’m not sure if Iolus will allow it- And I can bring you better stuffing if you DO plan to stay in this neat little cache over here- Ooh, and then..”

Psyche tugged Aleena out of her hiding spot, plopping the latter on the lush, carpeted floor, as she rambled on and on. The walls were plastered with stickers, papers, and knicknacks, the shelves overflowing with stuff. It was beautifully messy and it reminded the elder of times gone past. Laying down on the floor, Aleena sighed, closing her eyes, letting the lull of the preteen’s ranting sweep her away into much-needed rest. Meanwhile, in a dark and wet basement-.. There was a poor guy strapped to a chair. He was unconsious, with a trail of blood rolling down the side of his head. Slowly shaking himself awake, he looked around, blearily trying to focus on his surroundings. Upon figuring out he couldn’t move, he panicked, moving more and causing a whole lot of ruckus, yelling for help.

“Tsk. Pathetic.”

A soft and silky voice echoed through the basement, the source close behind him. Straining to see who it was, he felt a small prickle on the back of his neck. He stiffened, and watched, as a slim figure circled his chair and come into sight. What he saw was surprising. A stunning woman, clad in a black bodysuit, approached him with ice blue eyes.

“Don’t try and struggle. He’ll be here soon, and I want you fresh and ripe for the picking. Obey me, and maybe I can guarantee your safe release.”

She leaned close to him, purring the last word, letting her wavy, red locks tumble over her shoulders. The chained man stiffened, glancing around anxiously.

“..y-you won’t hurt me.. Right?”

She grinned, shrugging, grabbing a blade that has a foxglove imprinted on it.

“No promises.”

Feet lightly tapped on the wet cement, as a figure ran, hopping across rooftops, eluding cameras and watchful eyes of the Starflame. He couldn’t afford it, getting caught now, getting caught again. He was lucky enough last time that the little stick figure- Nia, was it-? That it helped him. Now, no one would.

Cause he was late for an appointment.

Skidding across a sloped roof of a building, Knife swore softly as an edge caught on his jacket.

“Shit, I just bought that. Was quality too..”

He carefully removed the jacket from the protruding edge, and continued running, his target-shaped SOUL shining dully in the rainy night. He kept on his way, turning right and left, zigzagging all over the place.

He passed a confectionery with a pancake lollipop sign on it, a mall, the prestigious Tivers Academy, and an apartment building. He swore he saw someone standing at the penthouse balcony, but he was too busy to really care. Hopping down on the gravel, he turned to an alleyway, slowing down. Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Knife groaned, checking the caller ID. On the screen shone a lazy doodle of a grumpy black octopus, with the name set as ‘Boss Octopussy.’ Knife snorted at this, picking up.

“Heya, Boss. Whaddya need from me?”

Shade growled into the mic, slamming his hand on the table.

“Get your ass back here now. Client did a rain check- We lost them to some company called Foxglove.”

Knife blinked at this. It was rare that there was a new company to rival theirs, and one to attract Shade’s attention. Surely they must have good stuff.

“Alright, whateva you say, Boss.”

“But since you’re out, I need you to keep on looking around. Not for places, but for anything new. I’ve been picking up reports that there’s things changing around here. Look for said things and report back to me immediately once you’ve got them. There might be some ethereal bull we can take hold of.”

Knife rolled his barely-visible eyelights, sighing. He didn’t wanna be here now, that he had no one to play with. He just wanted to be at home, arguing with Ash over useless shit, or talking with Axe. Maybe pound nice and hard into a slick-

“Killian. Are you there?”

Knife snarled at the use of his real name.

“Never left, you old man.”

“...Whatever. Are you going, or not?”

“Fiiiine… But you better be paying me something,” he purred into the phone with a smirk. Shade groaned, rubbing his nose bridge and nodded.

“Fine. But you better not be gambling it all away again.”

“Deal.”

And with that, Knife turned, setting off into the night once more. Maybe he’d go and check out the penthouse.

#inspired #oc #oc stuff #original story #drmv #original au #self indulgent #utdr au #utmv #original character #The Intertwining #Weya Allix #Omnis Prime IV #ogau #references to torture

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blorbfoosh · 2 months

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Chapter 4 -

The moon hung high above Chandler City, lights still on here and there. The periodic taxi or bus rumbled by, but the streets were somewhat quiet overall. We see a faint light in an apartment building, a shadow hunched over something. Zooming in, we see a bedroom. Simple, yet classy. The walls were of a cream shade, the ceiling grey, and the floors of marble tile. A queen-sized bed with dark grey covers filled up one side, with silver-trimmed bedside drawers at each side, and a lamp hanging above each one. A dresser with a mirror stood at the opposite side of the bed, and near the balcony doors lay a small office space. A decent table, shelves, and drawers are stacked on and above the table. A brown Yamaha acoustic guitar hung on the wall, decorated with stickers and signatures, a rosewood ukelele beside it. A figure was hunched over something, seeming to be writing.

Aden folded the paper, neatly placed it in the envelope, and sealed it with black wax. She sighed, standing up, and taking in the evening sight of the city. It was early. Three a.m. at most. She checked the paper Lottee gave her again and nodded. If this goes to plan, then Lottee will get her letter. She just hoped that the other mouse wouldn’t be a sneaky prick. She closed her eyes and focused, feeling the familiar pull at her SOUL. She reached out and tore a hole through space. She saw the counter. And she dropped the letter inside. Upon doing that, she sealed the hole. And then continued to brood, staring out the window.

Lottee stepped off the tram and breathed in the crisp, cold air of fall. Exhaust, cigar smoke, and the local scents mixed up to create that city smell, one you’re familiar with but can’t describe. The mouse looked around, enjoying the familiar sights. Cloudy, blue-grey sky, occasional birds, the people milling bout, getting to their workplaces, and the cars, motors, bikes, and buses filling up the streets in a steady hum of traffic. Everything was normal. Everything was in place. She was fine. No shouts, gunshots, screams. Just the traffic, the people, and the sound of the city. Mixed voices here and there, honks and rumbles of the streets. She smiled, clocking in and putting on her apron. As she stepped behind the counter, she noticed an envelope on her desk. It was a plain white one with her name on the back of it, nothing much. She opened it, and read the letter. It was from Aden!

—---------------- Hey, Lottee. Greetings to you. I hope you’re doing fine.

I’m not very good at the letter business. Apologies if I sound too stiff or whatnot.

I’ll cut to the chase now, shall I? Would you care to meet me at the Sunset later tonight, after work? Seven thirty p.m. would do nicely. I’d like to talk to you about something. Wear something low-down, and don’t draw attention to yourself. Please. And something you can run in. Run from people. Don’t panic, keep your head. I’ll see you. Regards, Adenine Stryn.

—-----------------

Lottee stared at the note with confusion in her eyes and a little bit of worry. But she brushed it off, like what she said, and tucked it in her purse. Delilah soon came in, and so did her boss, Mr. Earnst Teleo Phille. An old man in his 50’s. He always had a special spot for Lottee. Delilah laughed at it, and Aden looked at Lottee weirdly. It always put Lottee off, the way Aden stared at her, but Lottee being herself, had let it go. There was a time for mulling over Aden’s oddness. Now, it was time to work!

Shade slammed his hands on the table, staring at his papers. They were sketches, diagrams, notes. But nothing seemed right to him. The concert was a wonderful plan, but he needed MORE. It had to be grand and beautiful, out of this world. Only the best, for Shadow Moon. He heard someone come in and sighed, bringing his eyelight up to meet them. Ash. Huh. “Ash. Why are you not out… Scouting for our venue?” He asked, raising a bonebrow. Ash sighed and gestured to the papers scattered all around Shade’s arms. “They told me to go poke the bear. Need help?” Shade let a smirk grow on his face. “Say, Ash, what do you think of our concert? Should we make it something else? A sponsor? I feel like it’s missing… Something. You’re the strategist here, give me ideas.” He pushed some of the papers to Ash, and he scanned them over with skeptical eyelights. “An after-event, maybe something spontaneous, like a fund-raiser. A change for once.” Ash declared, an impassive expression on his face, as he shrugged. Shade furrowed his bonebrows and nodded thoughtfully. “Shake that pansy’s henchmen off our trail… The concert will be a fundraiser, and we’ll have a ball after the concert, yes… That’s perfect, Ash!” Shade chuckled, sitting back down. “Go on, tell the others there’s a change of plans. We’ll need two venues. And we may attract the Duchess, too..? Wonderful.” He grinned, an evil grin settling on his face. He rested his elbows on the table and placed his skeletal hands together, resting his chin on the back of his hands. “This’ll be the concert of the year,” Ash added, looking back at Shade. The goopy skeleton nodded with a dismissive laugh. “Oh ho ho ho, but it should be. This’ll be the event everyone’s talking about.” Ash nodded, exiting the meeting room, closing the door, and leaving Shade to his thoughts.

“He said WHAT NOW??” Knife exclaimed, glaring at Ash through the phone. Axe flinched beside him, and Knife sighed, lowering his voice. “Sorry. But really, Ash? Just now?” Ash rolled his eyelights and nodded. “Whaddya think? If he didn’t tell me, I wouldn’t even bother with you morons.” Knife’s eyesockets twitched, and he gripped a fist quite tightly, as Axe looked at him with his big red eyelight. Axe then placed his hand on Knife’s shoulder. “Hey… Why not we all just….. Calm down, please?” Ash nodded at this, and Knife groaned. “Fine, fine, we’ll do it. Get your coccyx here, Ashtray. Don’t get high on weed all alone.” Ash stared down at him, unimpressed. “Fine, fine.” The call then disconnected, leaving Knife and Axe alone. In a dark alley behind a mall. Where they were hiding due to the paparazzi chasing them down everywhere like hungry dogs to a meat slab.

Axe shuffled awkwardly to the side, as Knife paced the area of the alley. “So, Ash is gonna meet up here with us in five. After that, we’re gonna go and scout for possible venues for the concert AND the ball. Jeez.” He grumbled, knife in hand. He then glanced up at Axe. “Hungry?” He asked, raising a bonebrow. Axe nodded, his pupil dilating at the mention. Knife grinned tiredly, gently elbowing him. “Don’t worry, bud. We’ll get food after this, eh?” Axe nodded, a small soft smile creeping up on his face. A raspy sound echoed behind them... Like a zip of a zipper, but quieter and more ominous. The scent of dust and faint copper surrounded them, along with the slightest tint of melting snow. Ash had arrived. Knife and Axe looked around, Knife with a smirk and Axe with a neutral expression. “What took ya so long, Ashtray?” Ash trudged over to them and swatted at Knife. “Scouting out locations. Unlike you.” Knife’s smirk widened and he shook his head. “Ehhhh.” Axe’s gentle, deep baritone then cut them off from uttering another word. “Hey, guys… Let’s just go and do our jobs… Instead of just… Fighting, you know..?” He mumbled, looking around. Ash and Knife exchanged looks, before sighing and nodding. “He’s right. Let’s do this, gang.” Knife declared, slinging an arm around both of them. It was awkward, though, seeing as Ash was the shortest of the three, and Axe was the tallest. It didn’t stop Knife, though. Soon the three were laughing and bickering again like friends.

Aden was curled up in the dingy bathroom cubicle, her honey-toned hands curled in balls around her hair. Her breath came out quick and shallow, and her arms shook so. Images, distorted voices, and broken memories surrounded her brain, clouding her common sense. She can’t be doing this… She has a shift in fifteen. But her emotions got the best of her. Weak. Those tendrils we saw before reached up from the ground, and climbed around her legs and arms, wrapping her in a comforting embrace, while also forming spikes, framing her firm. A black porcupine. A deadly one. She nearly laughed at the thought. The faces of so many dying people… Both innocent and guilty, they haunt her. It was the burden of a murderer. A murderer who still had heart. She was tired… So, so tired. But she had to keep on moving. To keep on living. For their sake, if not hers. She can die, if it means her children will live. A mother will do what a mother must, right? Get your act together. Act, yes. Acting has been a daily part of her life. Not just in career or whatnot, she truly had to act. She had to act when she was Aden. She had to act when she was Duchess. When she was… [REDACTED]. Oh, so long ago. Yet it seems like yesterday. Memories claw at her heart as she clawed at her arms, reaching out, hoping, waiting for something, someone to grab her and save her from this misery-

Someone? Hah. That’s a joke, innit? No one will come for the likes of you. Harsh banging on the door snapped her out of her trance, and a rough, Brooklyn accent came from the other side. “Aden? That yew, kid? They’re expecting ya. You have three minutes left.” They then left, stilettos clacking on the tile floor. Aden sighed. Focus, focus, focus. You have a meeting with Lottee later, too, she reminded herself. You can’t afford to be weak. Just smile. Bear it for a while. She stood up, and willed the tendrils to dissipate, before composing herself, wiping away any evidence of the tears she had shed minutes before. Get over it, Aden. You always do. Cat eyes shined bright amber-yellow in the dark alleyways in the northwest part of the city. The less-than-life side of the wonders and wows of the rest of the city, where the ugly part of the city truly shows. This side is unfortunate. It’s nasty. But not as nasty as the hoof cavities the big city has. Just gotta carve that pretty face off. Aleena knew this, for one of them ruined her life. The Count. Disgusting, vile man he is, he took her mother and used her as a sex slave- Fucking cockwarmer. When he found out her mom was pregnant with Aleena herself, he went ballistic and chased after her. Her mother gave birth to her on the run and was horrified to see her child. A freak. Half-monster. A part skeleton, to be precise. She threw her away when a nice household worker took her in and raised her with her employer’s family. They weren’t that nice, but they were tolerable. Aleena sighed, raking her hands through her dirty blonde hair tinged with blue-green. She was always asked ‘What dye did you use,’ and it irritated her. It was natural. They can’t understand that. Imbeciles. She rolled her eyes, tugging her hair over her left eyesocket. Gloves can hide her phalanges. Leggings can conceal her tibia. But her left eyesocket could be seen. She huffed, looking around. That high school must be close now. Temporary shelter. Good. There must be an empty closet somewhere- “Eheheh, look, it’s the theatric Cruella. Anyone going to ya crappy show? Or are ya too scary for them, ooOOOooOoo~” A fat, freckled blonde boy cooed, being cheered on by his cronies. They surrounded a girl with fluffy, bi-colored hair split neatly down the middle of her head. Chocolate and platinum blonde. Huh. Aleena poked her head out curiously. Short, honey toned skin, with vitiligo patches on a slightly rounded face. Her hair was of loose wavy curls, and she held a few binders to her chest protectively. “Oh, look, it’s the guy who cried when he couldn’t get shotgun and pissed his pants, oOoooOOoo~” She spat out, glaring at Freckles. He gasped, and she threw him a finger. “What? You’re gonna cry cause a poor little girl is making fun of you? Puh-lease. Grow up.” She said, grabbing her stuff and placing it in her bag. Aleena didn’t notice the time- Dammit, school was almost out. No way is she gonna get locked up in here… She glanced at the kid. They seemed like they got spunk. Maybe she’d follow them. The Cruella-esque girl swung her pack over her shoulder and walked out, leaving the boys standing there in confusion. Yeah, Aleena was definitely following her. “Mama! You’re home!” Psyche grinned, throwing herself onto her mother. It was just seven. Early, even for her ma. Nillyx sighed and rubbed Psyche’s head affectionately. “Well, I promised I’d help ya out with that musical, eh?” She’d grin at Psyche, and the latter’s face brightened. Oh, yeah, the musical. Psyche had been working on that for what now, a year? She already had part of the script set out, and she needed a little help with the music. Nillyx didn't mind. She loved music just as much as her daughter did. But instruments..? Lucky for her, she had a few family members to help her out. Ah.. Well, we need to reach out now. They’re probably scattered all around. It’s fine.

It’ll be fine. Probably.

Lottee nervously smoothed out her moss green sweater, and paced around the front of the Sunset, her tail flicking back and forth nervously. She packed a pepper spray, a taser, and wore it in a little sling bag. Not to forget her teeth. Her striped sneakers tapped quietly against the pavement, and she looked around anxiously, tucking a lock of loose fur away. Where was she? “It’s almost seven thirty- That loser better not have stood me up.” She huffed, turning around, and was met with an empty street. A large shadow loomed behind her for a split second, and Lottee swore she saw a yellow grin- She spun around again, but saw no one. This was really starting to put her off.

“Ugh, is she really not gonna come? Fine then, I’ll just wait inside- It’s comfier than the outside.” She muttered, walking in the establishment, brushing against a large skele-monster and taking a seat at the bar. Aden arrived a few moments later, dodging through the multiple patrons milling about and taking a seat next to the smaller mouse with a tired grin. “Well, heya, Char.” Lottee frowned, confused, before shaking it off. “Ehh, heya, Aden! What’s up? Why’d ya-” She started, before Aden shushed her. “Don’t yell it, my stars. I’m here to offer ya a lil side job.” Lottee’s emerald eyes widened, and she stared at Aden with confusion. “Why do you want to give me a side job-? It’s just been a month.” Aden shrugged. “Eh, ‘cause why not? I need help. Plus, you’re good at what I wanna give you. You even do it without you knowing it.” Aden took a circle-shaped clip from her bag and gave it to Lottee. “Well, it’s your choice to say yes or no. I won’t force ya. Just leave this alone or give it back if ya don’t wanna- And wear it if ya do. I’ll know.” Aden stood up, and gestured to the door, grabbing her belt bag, Lottee staring at the clip in her paws, before jumping and following Aden, dodging the other much larger patrons.. She had so many questions, and Aden had all the answers- But Aden was already gone.

#utmv #utdr #utdr au #bad sanses #original character #original story #original au #ogau #inspired #oc #oc stuff #self indulgent #drmv #magic #The Intertwining #Weya Allix

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blorbfoosh · 2 months

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Chapter 3 -

It was a cold fall night. Gentle winds rode the air, making the trees wave and several discarded papers fly. The sky was clear, a rarity in such a busy city. In fact, it was the clearest out of the year, to the point where you could almost see stars. Maybe even a full constellation, if you squint. And it was quieter now. This was a beautiful night. A night where you can maybe propose, or ask someone out. But it was nights like these that were the most dangerous. It was a free ticket for them. The Charter. Mobsters roamed the streets. Missions were in progress. It was their high time to move. When the law is sleeping, the bandits awake. Over here, glass shatters, and thieves move in. Maybe on the other side gas fills a room, and an old man coughs to his death. Gasoline splashes on the wooden floor, and a match is thrown inside. In an instant, flames leap to life, licking any surface around it. The echo of a scream resonates into the night, drowned out by the other sounds as a shadow stands from the roof, watching all of this happen. It was normal in this city, anyway.

A flash of white darted through the marble halls, footsteps light on the floor. The figure moved swiftly, the occasional flash of color the only reminder that she was there. She rounded a corner and found herself in a gallery of sorts. She stopped for a quick moment to breathe in deeply and analyze her surroundings. According to the map that she studied earlier, the entrance to the den must be in this very hallway. She sighed, stepping out into the moonlight that filtered through the high, arched windows. It fell on her figure, highlighting her in a halo of silver. In the light, she almost seemed… Magical. Unreal.

But of course, who wouldn’t, with such features like hers?

Skin pale as paper, making her seem fragile yet mysterious. Her thick, slightly wavy hair was split into two main colors, black and white, hanging in a low ponytail reaching past her shoulders. But besides the yin-yang hair, her eyes were her most striking feature. They followed her hair’s theme, but… Her left eye has a black sclera. It went on until her pupil. Pure white. Her right eye, white sclera, and iris. The pupil is black. Her face is round, with soft-looking skin. The rest of her body was hidden by a black, skin-fitting jersey bodysuit, with a zipper down the front. Her hands were covered by fingerless gloves and dark grey boots moved silently on the marble tile floor. A belt hung at her waist, a silver scimitar in its sheath. She knelt on one knee, placing a hand on the floor. She stayed there for a few moments, just feeling. She then opened her eyes and stood. Go time. She brushed herself off, and then took a jar of powder from… Somewhere. She then blew into the air. Nothing? No lasers? She craned her eyes to see- Oh wait. Thin strings. Almost like spiderwebs. She smirked. The Viscount’s den.

The Viscount was a high and haughty man. He was part of the Charter, about the top 5. His style of work is trafficking. Drugs, guns, endangered… Just not humans. The Count takes care of that. The Viscount and Count are partners in crime; Seeing as they are best of friends and they both operate similarly. The Viscount uses strings to protect his den, sign off deals, and kill. The Count uses sap to snare and trap his prey. Both hunters, same world.

Disgusting.

Which is why she was here. To stop the Viscount. He has been throwing signals left and right, confusing the poor members of Starflame. She scoffed at the thought. Those do-gooders can’t do anything without some help. Lucky for her, she was alone. And she knew what to do. She was the Duchess, after all. It was her duty to. She is tired of taking sides and watching one overcome the other. She is on neither side. She was the balance.

Her eyes darted around, plotting the best way to get to his den- A hidden trapdoor under a statue. Clever. But also obvious. She carefully maneuvered around the strings before reaching the statue of Achilles. Looking down, she could see the tips of the trapdoor. She smirked. Too obvious, hm? She observed the statue. Moved in a hurry. Or maybe something’s blocking it from closing quickly. She noticed the tiniest chip in Achilles’s arm. Bingo. She pulled on it, and a crank echoed throughout the empty marble halls. Achilles moved, and she backed away, throwing water balloons all over the place, purposely hitting the strings. They broke. Alarms sounded. The trapdoor opened. She took out a bottle and a grenade, throwing them both down. The scent of gasoline was pungent, making her feel a bit high. She jumped out the window just when the men stormed in, dropping a flaming matchbox on a puddle of gasoline. She landed softly on a tree branch, looking at all the people she had murdered. Stabbed, bleeding out, poisoned, and having Void spikes suck out their SOUL alive. It was as gory as it was beautiful. A garden of horrors. But she can’t feel for them. So she dropped to the ground, and ran, vanishing into the shadows of the city, as sirens wailed, piercing through the once-silent streets. As the Duchess roams the city, a family is cozy in their home. A nice apartment, near the center of the city, where everything’s at. But inside, all was not well. A skeleton with a cluster of blue gladiolus on his skull entered the apartment building and went up the stairs, and inside their apartment, getting met with a young girl. “Iolus!” She cried, jumping up to hug him. The skeleton- Or Iolus smiled tiredly, his wilted gladiolus brightening a bit. He patted the girl on her head. She was a unique child. She had a head of hair split into two colors in a unique pattern. One side is black, the other platinum blonde. Her face was of a warm and fair shade, splattered with vitiligo, and she had heterochromia, blue and green. Another skeleton walked into the hallway, a tall and lean one, with bright orange celandines on his skull. He brightened up when he caught sight of the duo. “Iolus! You’re home!” Said he, in a cheery tone, causing Iolus to smile more. “Hey, Celan. Psyche.” He looked to Psyche, hugging him tight. “Where’s…?” He asked, looking at Celan. “Mama’s not home. Not yet. Neither is Acelus-” Suddenly, another skeleton burst in. He had violets in a cluster this time, with scars on his skull, starting at his sockets and tracing his face in jagged lines. Iolus’s expression fell.

“Well. Came home later than I, brother.” His voice turned sharp and bitter, tinged with a British accent of sorts. The scarred skeleton’s violets withered, and a displeased expression fell on his skull. “Well, looks like the worker came home. How was work, little bro?” He replied, a smirk etching on his face, his voice deep and rough with a Brooklyn accent. Iolus stared pointedly at the other. “Because Mama isn’t home tonight, Acelus. Plus, I can’t leave Psyche and Celan alone. I expected better, brother.” He muttered, his gladiolus wilting. Celan’s vibrant celandines dimmed a bit, a small frown settling on his skull. “W-well, I suppose you two might be tired. I’ll get the table ready, so we all can eat. Psyche, go to bed.” He went to the kitchen and began preparing the food. Psyche stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her arms. “No, Celan. I’m 12 already.” Iolus looked at her with an unimpressed stare. She pouted. “But Iolus, it’s not fair! I never get to see you, or Mama like this! It’s been ages since we had a full meal! And Mama isn’t working all the time! Unlike you.” She frowned, looking away. Acelus watched in amusement, as Iolus sighed.

“Psyche. I know. I’m sorry that work takes me away, okay? But this isn’t healthy for you. Celan tells me you’ve been up every night, watching the stars, waiting for me to come home. I’m sorry I can’t be here for you more.” He knelt down to be at her level as he said so and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Why not you go wash up, and after dinner, I’ll come and tell you about the stars. Deal?” He asked, quirking a bonebrow with a gentle smile. She looked back at him, joy evident in her eyes. “You- You mean it?” She whispered, her smile wavering. He nodded, and she hugged him. A few seconds passed for Iolus to realize she was silently crying. His headflowers wilted drastically. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He soothed, patting her back. She sniffled, looking at him. “It’s been so long since we… Since we did this.” Iolus smiled and hugged her tight. “Don’t worry. I’ll try. We can make it another night.” Psyche nodded, wiping away her tears and rushing off. Iolus stood and looked at Celan. “Why is Mama not here?” Celan sheepishly scratched the back of his skull. “She told me she had to stay behind because of work.” Acelus sighed. “Work. She’s almost as absent as you.” Iolus glared at the other. “Listen, I have priorities, unlike you.” Acelus chuckled. “Weren’t you the one who said you wouldn’t be here if Ma wasn’t home?” Iolus’s headflowers wilted drastically, threatening to crumble off his skull. “N-no, that’s not what I-” Celan cut them both off. “Shut up and get eating. Just… Let’s just try, okay? It’s not easy. But we can try. For Psyche, for Mama, for all of us.” Iolus and Acelus shared a look, before nodding. “Sure, lil’ bro.” Iolus nodded at Acelus. “Alright. Temporary truce.” He extended his hand, and Acelus shook it, non-commitally. Iolus rolled his cerulean eyelights, before heading to the dining room to eat a late dinner, one they both needed. A few blocks down the road, a prestigious building stood, bright and glowing under the moonlight, standing out from the rest of the dark city. It didn’t tower over the others, it just lay there, open and welcoming. But this certain building, so inviting and innocent was the one building the Charter never dared to touch. For it was the headquarters of their greatest enemy, Starflame. The government? No. But they do have power over the security and enforcement of rules. Much more hardworking and more reliable than the human police. Oh, right! No one mentioned it, but they are from the Monster Kingdom. Shocking? Probably not, since they are the ones supplying the city with power and magic, but it still surprises people. Starflame is a big group, full of humans and monsters alike, but the leaders, the big three, are known as Dream, the president, the founder, and the brain. At his right hand, Admiral Renoi. He goes around and collects intel, albeit his smooth memory. And last but not least, Lieutenant Blue. The strength, the power. He’s the one who controls the cavalry and maps the patrol routes. The brain, the eyes, and the body. Fitting. A single light shone at the top of the building, and we see Dream hunched over at his table, papers strewn around in a messy order. He’s alone here. And asleep. Suddenly, alarms blare and he jolts awake, pressing a button on the table. Screens slowly came down from the ceiling and showed him recent crime activity in the city. His cameras zoomed in on Drake Vislokan’s mansion, which was in flames. Greek fire. Dammit. How could that happen?! He stood up, grabbed his cloak, and sipped the last of his coffee. It was time to investigate. No rest for him.

#utmv #utdr #utdr au #bad sanses #star sanses #original character #original story #original au #inspired #oc #oc stuff #self indulgent #drmv #ogau #mafia au #magic #The Intertwining #Weya Allix

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blorbfoosh · 2 months

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Desert Dance

On the other side of the Web, a new story began. Like it always does, when the strings of two Webs Intertwine. A flipped world begins, sands blowing across the desert in waves. Canyons and mesas rise above, painting the scarred landscape with rusty reds, oranges, and browns, twisting and waving in an intricate pattern of rock.

The landscape itself was carved by nature's wonders- Molten lava beds which had long since cooled down over time, creating breathtaking caves, and amazing rock sites. These serve as refuge for those brave souls who traverse the Bad-Lands.

These caves have grown, and now, they even harbor cities and towns. One of these cities is called Stalagmite City, the biggest one all. Placed snug in a cave called El Roseau, this bustling semi-1950's western themed town's been thriving. Even has a big freshwater lake.

But that's not where our story's set, is it? Like what someone once said, 'you've got to get to the canyons to strike gold.' Smaller towns lie outside as well.

One of those.. Is Sterlington. A darling little town situated next to a bridge which stretches over the canyons. This is where our tale begins.

With a stubborn city gal, trying to start anew, and a loyal sheriff, who merely wants to make a friend.

These two, to others, were like oil and water. Our gal surely thinks so herself. But.. Maybe all she had to do was open up. Give friendship another chance. Maybe give love, another chance.

She's already trying, opening her home to two souls. Souls she considered her children. But will that be enough to consider other souls 'friends?'

Our sheriff surely wishes to do so. Ever since day one, he's been poking, prodding, pleading for the tiniest ounce of friendship to this iced-over woman. You can imagine how dumbstruck he felt when all of the blue, a large.. Stuffy broke the walls in five minutes, that he's been wearing down for weeks.

But he's getting somewhere.

Tucking a lock behind her ear, Polaris breathed a sigh as she stared at her creation in slight disappointment. The duck cake was not.. Duck-ying. She didn't have enough fondant to make the beak or coat the legs, and she wasn't even sure if her recipient liked fondant or not.

At least she's getting practice out of this, she mused. But the fondant... She knows she can make it at home. Time to go out again, she supposed. All Polar really needed were marshmallows and fine sugar. From what she remembered, she needed shortening too. She had butter at home anyway.

Starlo was probably out training Killa, from the sounds of grunting and small explosions to the left. Familiar ears popped out of a sand and shook themself off. She waved at her towering feline stuffy kid, Killa, and he waved back, before dodging a bell attack.

"Focus, Kills! Keep it up, Sparkles! Y'all are doin' great."

She called, swinging her homemade tote bag on her shoulders and walking into town. Just hoped that she didn't bump into anyone on the way, yeah-? Funny how just a few weeks ago she was a silent recluse running from a job. Now, she's still a recluse, but she has a job, new.. Could she even call them friends? ..and a family. Her own.

One she's waited for, maybe even wanted. It felt.. Natural, for her.

She didn't take notice of her surroundings, and soon tripped on the front step of an establishent. Gasping, she flailed, trying to soften her fall-.. But it never came. Instead, she felt something tugging at the scruff of her blouse, holding her face a few centimeters from the wooden floor. She was lifted up and placed upright, making her tense up and awkwardly brush herself off, before glancing behind her.

oh. shiddles.

With a proud smirk, a certain cocky duck stared down at her, worry seeming to glimmer a bit in those hazel green eyes. Sometimes she saw them stern and serious, eyes straight. Other times, they're bright and full of light and teasing. And others.. She didn't know. It was so hard to read them. Hard to read him.

Sheriff Vercos Star-Cross.

He stood at a towering height over her, five feet taller at most. She'd never admit it to him, but he.. He intimidated her. In ways she didn't know were possible. Crouching down to be at her level, he took a visual check on her.

"e y- You alright, miss? That was- heh, quite the drop-"

Polar would snap out of staring. Dammit, she was doing this more and more. what was wrong with her..?

"Yes, Vercos. I'm alright. Just flapped in, did ya?"

He would shrug, raising an wing to his nape, still remaining crouched. The air was full of awkwardness- Especially considering the upcoming events.

"Mm, yea, jus' about finished with my rounds. The bandit seems to have taken a pit stop, so we're all clear for tomorrow's dance."

There was a dance? She wasn't well accustomed with holidays. Upon seeing her confusion, the duck started to explain.

"Y'see, miss, we have, eh, let's say lil get-togetherz when stuff happens. Like for Thanksgivin', Easter, stuff like that. Valentine's is no difference."

"Different."

"Different, difference. All the same."

Polar would shake her head and sigh, as Vercos stood up again, stretching. She can't blame him, it gets tiring having to crouch just to speak well. She should know- Nursed a lil birb when she was younger.

"And lemme guess, it's extra coupley."

Vercos laughed this time, shaking his head. That surprised her. Stereotypes.. Demolished? She was grateful she moved here more than ever. This town was something special, she could see it now. This was something she had to protect.

"Nawt at all, miss! We're all friends o'er here in Sterlington. I mean, ya can come with, if- If ya want-..?"

This action stunned her. What was he trying to achieve? Was he trying to strengthen their so-called 'friendship'..?

You thought he was gonna back off after last time? Hell. Nah. If anything, it was like he upped his game-..!

..but if she wants to stay, she needs to put effort into it.

"Miss? Miss, are ya really doin fine-? Ya look pretty, uh, not here."

Polar nodded, trying to analyze the situation. The dance will probably be night, or at least late afternoon when everyone was free. Since tomorrow was a school day, the people have time to fix up the grounds during the day. Others might've already cooked beforehand so all they needed to do was bring it. There's probably events as well. She was about done with puzzles, all she really needed to do was the cake.

..But the event wasn't what she was worried about, it was the intention of the one who asked her. Polaris hasn't been to a dance in.. A while. And the last one she had been to was, heh- Tragic, to say the least.

"Vercos. I'm fine. Just lost in thoughts like you said."

He would nod, bending over to be in her face. As usual, in her space. But why was she not getting irked?

"Well, mind if ya consider my offer?"

"I didn't realize it was an invitation."

"Hey, ya kids might wanna go too, so keep that in mind."

He'd gently nudge her with a small smile, making her involuntarily shiver and roll her eyes. Her children. Yeah.

They were a good excuse to go poke around harmlessly. Plus, she wasn't sure whether Killer had been to a dance before- Considering being cooped up in a creepy underground lab. She still felt shivers from that. ..She was genuinely scared. Concerned. For someone she wasn't that close with.

Feelings. They baffled her, really.

But.. If she kept on pushing them away, then-.. .... Crumbles has been prodding her to try. She's opened her heart. Her home. If she really wanted 'home,' she had to start nesting.

And it started with this.

"..I mean, I've been planning an outing so Killa and Starlo can get.. More aquainted with the fellows here. Guess this could be a start."

Was it just her, or did a small flicker of hope leap in his eyes..? And did his smile just twitch a little wider? That wasn't possible, was it-?

Right?..

It's just having the kids around, yeah. Nothing changes with her and Vercos. He's just the irritating sheriff ducky who hangs around a lot and likes to solve puzzles. Which she made. It's not like anything will happen.

That evening, she finished coating the duck cake in fondant, and was starting on accessories. Painstakingly molding and creasing, every single brush she did precise and calculated. This continued on late into the night, and until early morning as well. She saw the first streaks of light reach up, touching the sky and spreading like watercolors on a paper.

It was well past dawn when she attached the gold sheriff cookie badge to the green fondue poncho. She did it..! A beautiful muscovy duckatrice stood cockily on a rock, poncho lightly swaying in the wind. An oversized brown Stetson hung on his head as his eyes looked forward with a determined sheen. Horns poked out of the Stetson, for more 'duckatrice.' Where tail feathers end, a new tail began, hanging behind him in an arrogant-ish way. She sadly didn't have enough fondant to make the transition to lizard wings, but she supposed this was enough.

She's been working her best. ..but would he like it..?

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she started cleaning up the kitchen, when she heard soft thumps from the living room. A few minutes later, a groggy Killa trudged in, ears flopping side to side like they did when tired. Polar smiled, putting the cake away for later.

"mhhhh... Morning, mum."

He would take a seat at the dining table and lay his head on it, groaning sleepily.

"Good morning, love. How was your sleep?"

"I wish I can go to bed again."

Polar shook her head, going over to pat his head consolingly.

"Wanna know something?"

Killa looked up with interest, rubbing his eye with a big clawed paw. Polar leaned closer with a whisper.

"We're going to a dance later."

Killa sat up straighter, eye glinting with excitement.

"A dance? Later? With people and music and food?"

Polar laughed, giving his lil clownish nose a boop.

"Especially food."

Killa hopped up excitedly from his chair, like he was on a sugar high of some sort.

"I'm gonna go tell Star!"

And with that, Killa went pittering away to tell his bro.

Hours later, the dance was in full swing. The sun had long set by now, and night was upon them. The last of the children had gone to bed. Killa and Starlo included- Albeit it was much of a struggle getting Killa to finally honk out- Starlo was a little stubborn, but he relented still.

Now it was just Polaris and the night. And the faint sound of music and laughter. ..She felt weirdly disappointed, not staying, but-.. She felt awkward. Not.. Not at home. There were too many people, too many eyes. And couples.

She knows Vercos said that all were welcome, but-.. It didn't change anything. She still felt alone. Shivering a bit, she curled up on the back porch swing as she looked up at the open sky. It was beautiful. She couldn't get enough of it- Heck, if she didn't see this every night, she would be depressed! The beauty of the celestial plane.. It made her think. A cool night breeze flowed past her and she shivered again. ayy, she shoulda got a blanket.

But she was way too comfy to leave.

Groaning, she'd scoot closer to one side of the remarkably large swing(Killa loves this place, so she made it to fit anyone) and curl up again. At least she had nothing else to do, yeah-..? Nothing much to worry about tonight. A soft flap of wings sounded above her, but she supposed those were just birds, resting for the night. Renovations went by oddly quickly, and she made the empty, three-room cabin not so small anymore- And best of all, she made it feel like home. Not just to herself, but to others as well. ..or at least, she hoped.

The thought made her warm inside, and she smiled. Everything was.. Okay. For once. And that feeling wrapped around her like a soft, warm blanket.. With a faint scent of leather, firewood, and.. Was that gunpowder? Blinking awake, she touched the new material draped around her body. A poncho- A lot like h i s-

"You were shivering."

Looking up, she saw a certain duck staring down at her with a soft smile. ..Well, that explained the flapping. "Oh. Um. Thanks, I guess."

Vercos nodded, the porch swing slowly swaying with the both of them on it.

"I didn't see you at the later dances. Mind tellin' me why didn't you stay, miss?"

And there it was. The questions. Polar sighed, subconsciously wrapping the poncho tighter around her. He stayed, watching the stars in silence. Just waiting. For her.

"I.. It felt awkward. I haven't danced in a while."

"You're welcome here. You know that."

She did. He knew she did. But yet-.. She didn't feel ready to mingle yet. She was glad her sons did, however.

"I guess I got skittish."

"Ya missed a good whole lot of dances, you know."

Polar chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"I'd rather skip than watch you fumble awkwardly."

"Hey! I look good~"

Vercos wagged his eyebrows(how does that even happen?), pushing his white hair back and leaned close to her with a smirk, preening his feathers like the cocky bird he is. As if he thinks he's attractive.

"Stop, you look ridiculous."

She laughed, pushing him away. This was much more comfortable than earlier. The duck laughed as well, a sound that resembled a quack- Yet smoother. It was unique.

"Ridiculously attractive~?"

"You're insane."

Chuckling, he'd sit straight again. Silence settled around the duo once more, as they sat, watching the stars. Polar turned to say something, but the words were lost. She couldn't.. Talk to him.

The silence was nice-.. But this was consuming.

"So, you dance?"

"Oh- That. Yeah, I took lessons. Haven't done it in a while."

"Do ya reckon you dance well?"

Where was he going with his chatter? Polar just can't understand the ways of this duckatrice. It compelled her to pick and claw more at his being, to fully understand and read him as easily as he did to her.

"I consider myself decent. And you?"

Vercos shrugged, glancing at her.

"Mista Tuwitler did teach me a bit. Tango, polka, two-step, waltz.. Other stuff too."

"Oh? Interesting. I was taught that too."

"Bet you can't tango as well as I do," Vercos teased. Polar raised a brow. "Are you challenging me to see who's better-.."

She'd lean closer to him with a teasing smirk, which made him tense up and glance around, his eyes shifty, feathers poofing up a bit. That made her feel good, knowing she had an effect on him somehow. Since-.. She couldn't read him that easily.

"Or are you trying to ask me to dance with you, hm?"

Vercos blinked, before grinning back, leaning closer to her as well, getting all up in her space and in her face. Second time today, what a shocker.

"Would ya agree if I said yes, though?"

..WHAT?

Once again, she was stumped by Vercos Star-Cross. Or maybe, you're just overthinking. ..Or maybe that as well.

Leaning back, she stared blankly into nowhere as she tried to process it all, when a talon poked her cheek. She blinked, being met with a giddy Vercos face. Her face fell, and she rolled her eyes.

"You wanna, dontcha, miss?"

"..I'm not gonna answer that."

His teasing grin softened, and he stood up, offering a webbed, taloned hand to her.

"Well then. May I have this dance, milady?"

She stared at him, then his hand, and back at him once more. You only get a chance like this once in a lifetime. Don't screw it up again.

"Oh, screw it. You may."

Vercos's smile widened, and his eyes seemed to light up as Polar stood up, reached for the poncho once more, but thought better of it and place her hand in his-.. He grew smaller. Just for her. Standing at a height of five feet, he grinned up at her, tail feathers wagging like a happy duck. ..He really was happy.

Gently tugging her body to his, he placed his other hand on her shoulder. Blinking, confused, she did the same-.. Cause she felt awkward having to put her hand anywhere else. Laughing softly, Vercos led with a step to the side, Polaris following suit. It went along like so, just dancing in the back to a soundless tune. It felt nice. He spun her around, and she laughed, tilting her head back and slightly tightening her grip on his shoulder. He pulled her back gently, and caught her eyes. Chocolatey brown orbs met hazel green, and she lost sight of everything else. The surroundings faded away.. Leaving just him, dancing with her, in the dark.

#The Intertwining #Weya Allix #Omnis Prime IV #self indulgent #original AU #short story #original story #late valentines #Ion know how to do tags erm #oc #oc stuff #deltarune au #dtmv #utmv #undertale au #undertale yellow reference #inspired

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