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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Final Space: And Into The Fire Review or Now with 110% More Homoerotic Telepathy

Welcome new and old to my first Final Space review! If you’ve never seen the blog before, and given this is the first “new” series i’ve covered as it come out in some time that’s probably quite a few of you, welcome. I’m Jake, I do recaps and reviews of various animated shows and comics, mostly just stuff I want to do, often on comission (5 dollars an episode if theres any episode of the first two seasons of this show or any episode of any other show you’d like tos ee me cover), or for my patreon patreon.com/popculturebuffet. And it is my utmost honor to add this show to my rotating roster of shows I cover as they come out.

I friggin love Final Space. I was intrigued by it back when TBS released the animatics alongside Close Enough (Wth the two shows ironically finally together on HBO max as of earlier this month), for their doomed block. I heard a lot of good things about season 1.. and let it get away from me, not watching it till Season 2. But both seasons had more than enough to pull me in with intriguging characters, even greater jokes and a truly unique idea for a premise involving giant monsters, an edltrich god and lots of cookies.

So while it took an extra year given Covid, I’m super friggin pumped to get into season 3 at long last after the hell of a cliffhanger, especially since ironically last night I saw Steven Yeun’s oscar nominated performance in “Minari”. Now i get to watch him play a cat teenager again too.. and in a few days Mark friggin Grayson. It’s a good week to be a fan of his is what i’m saying and a good week in general.

Previously on Final Space Yo!: Since it’s been a year and while the series provides a recap , I’m going to be doing these anyway so:

Our heroes finally got all 5 dimensional keys and freed Bolo, and in the process also freed Avacato from Invictus, the horrifying entity controlling final space. Meanwhile Tribore got Sheryl to stop being a selfish prick and she joined the team trying to be a better mother from now on. But freeing Bolo came at a high cost as Nightfall sacrified herself as the sixth key (KVN was natrually both Gary and Bolo’s first choice, but was inllegible. ) So we ended the season with our heroes entering Final Space and Gary reuniting with Quinn.... while Invictus loomed. So over a year later we finally get some answers so join me under the cut for spoilers, recaps, and homoerotic text ahoy.

Something i’m doing since both the roster keeps changing.. and as I correctly guessed from the trailer, and the general tone of the promos for this season, that everyone won’t be all together all season.. or even in one piece.. i’ll be doing a silver age style roll call to let us know who all we have on the Team Squad for the episode Roll Call: Gary, Quinn, Avacato, Little Cato, Ash, Fox, KVN, HUE, AVA, Sheryl, Bolo, and Tribore

So we pick up right where we left off, Gary tearfully reuniting with Quinn, with Quinn wishing he hadn’t come for her, and Gary being Gary naturally having ignored that, and actually been more determined since that made it forbidden which made it extra tempting and him want to extra do it. God I missed this glorious idiot let me tell you.

So things are quickly interrupted by invictus, who turns out to be a giant flaming head.. thing... and chases them and the crimson light, which has to start speeding with our heroes tethered to the outside, Quinn holding onto Gary.

So we get one hell of a thrilling chase as the Crimson Light outspeeds the demon head and runs into two titans, but Bolo shows up to take out one, with Mooncake trying his dimension shattering blast thingy on Invictus.. and naturlaly g ven this is the big bad we need to show off how horrying they are, and it does NOTHING. But Gary catches his little buddy so we’re alright.

Sheryl also shows off her badass bonafieds by LIGHTFOLDING THROUGH A TITAN... granted she still has some parenting skills to learn as “lightfolding while your son is hanging out the back through an edltrich god” really isn’t a motherly thing to do.. but neither is trying to murder your child several times or blaming him for how shitty your life turned out so ANYTHING is a step up for her.

But.. it’s not enough. While she does manage to kill ONE the Crimson Light is too badly damaged to go on and we get two tragic deaths in one go... The Team Squad is forced to abandon the Crimson Light.. and AVA is too damaged to Upload into HUE. “I’m Sad” “For who?” “For you.. and for us. “ God damn Tom Kenny is amazing. You don’t need me telling you that, but sometimes you need a reminder.

So our heroes end up on a desolate mystery world, stranded in final space with no ship, no suplies and no hope. The only thing to do now is survivie and hope they can continue the mission at some point.

ONE MONTH LATER

Things have not gotten any better, as naturally , our heroes have only found weird cartoon eyed worms that regrow their heads when you bite them off. So while this means unlimited food, it’s also disgusting and Garry hates it. “This may be a head but it tastes like a butt”. Quinn and Tribore are with him and Quinn hasn’t been ready to talk about her experiences trapped in this hellscape and still isn’t but being a good dude, Gary dosen’t push her on it. Though the weird red veiny thing on her arm tells me maybe one of you should speed that up before she explodes or gets cronnenburgy. Just saying. I’ll also say i’m not huge on the one month time skip, as while I feel they probably have a reason for being that specific i’ts a bit TOO long and I question why have that long a period of a jump, not the longest but still long enough for things to happen with nothing changingin that time? Still it’s a minor nitpick in an otherwise fantastic episode so I can let it go, I just don’t get it.

What we do get is some Gary Corpses dropping and Invictius puppeting them... i’m with gary that is bowel openingly scary. I also do like how despite the FAR more dire circumstances, they still get in the requisite shenanigans this series requires. I’ts not to the network mandated subplot levels where it distracts, but it’s enough to help ease the terror of the situation and isn’t around for situations like the opening where it really SHOULDN’T be. As the series always has when something big happens, the bollocks goes away. Once we’re in between we can get back to literal pissing contests, KVN leading a crowd to their deaths and HUE in a pimp hat like god intended.

So yeah our heroes have to outrun the horrible horde of Gary’s, though Little Cato catches on something’s wrong as Tribore makes gary cary him as foreshadowing for later and Sends mooncake down to asssit. Our heroes escape.. but a cave in happens.

After the break, Gary wakes up confused with the party now split in two: Gary, Quinn, KVN, Tribore and HUE on one side and Avacato, Ash, Fox, Little Cato and Sheryl on the other. So Gary does the logical thing... and take his shirt off telling Avacato to feel him.

I mean I didn’t even ship them before this scene but... Gary claims because of their bond he can telepahtically connect with Avacato. That’s normal Gary shenanigans.. except not only does he shrug off his girlfriend asking why they can’t do that.. but it WORKS. We have a scene of the two telepahtically talking in a wheatfield that is so homerotic I guarantee there only wasn’t the Careless Whisper sax because they couldn’t afford it.. or their saving it for later this season. Look sometimes you don’t ship a ship because you just.. dont’ care that strongly one way or another and sometimes you just need an incredibly gay scene to see the light. Same thing happened with Weblena same thing here.

Fox also says “that was glorious to watch” same man. That was freaking art. So our heroes split up into three plots. As usual for me

Team Gary: So yeah... Triobore’s pregnant. No way to really softball into that. He’s been pregnant this whole time. So we get a stupid and mildly horrifying gross out sequence with Gary having to look Triobore in teh eyes and Quinn having to “uncork him”. Which is code for ... you know what i’m not going to say it. If you’ve seen the episode you know and if not your better off not visualizing it trust me. Point is this whole sequence is dumb and the worst part of the episode by far. And the series CAN do good gross out. While Olan Rodgers regrets it, the pissing contest was one of the funniest scenes of season 2, and managed to make a gross idea on paper actually pretty damn funny. This.. this is just “Haha males giving birth and tribore’s an asshole”. There’s no joke here just a .. plug. .. gah.. the vomit is rising let me tell you.

We do get something good out of this nightmare, Tribore’s son who hatches as the army of gary’s dig their way in, Quanstranstro, who rapidly ages into a stylsih spanish speaking adult badass. He is fucking awesome and a great addition to the team and the sheer.. oddity of his birth is wonderful even if the actual birthing was not. Then the climax happens so before that.

Team Avacato:

Avacato and Co come across a sleeping giant robot cyborg .. thingy. Naturally Fox wakes him up. Little Cato remains not suprised. It occelates between panicking over it’s legs being gone and amenisa and is pretty damn funny. It’s voiced by John Dimagio. But it gets serious as we find out nothing has ever made it out of final space, and things.. change the longer there there. And Quinn’s been there several months if not a year. Whuh oh. This part is much better both due to better jokes and plot advancment.. though again Quanstrano is still fucking amazing.

Team Bolo: Bolo meanwhile returns and fights a titan, and has mooncake help him rather htan join the others, but looses, hitting the planet with his body.. I mean he might not get back up.. but the impact shatters the caverns and causes an explosion. Everyone but Gary, Quinn, KVN and HUE are MIA, as our remaining party find earth floating overhead.

TO BE CONTINUED>

Final Thoughts: A decent start to the season. Like I said the whole birthing sequence can die in a fire and reminds me of the terrible comedy subplots adult swim wanted grafted onto two episodes.. but otherwise it’s a tense stark opener that sets up the bleak tone while still keeping the series rediciulous shenanigans in tact. It’s the perfect welcome back after so long. I mean the gay telepathy alone would make it a winner.

Next Time on This Blog: We dive into a little history with HIsteria. See you at the next rainbow.

#final space #gary goodspeed #avacato #little cato #quinn airgon #ash grayven #fox #KVN #HUE #AVA #invictus #bollo #sheryl goodspeed #tribore menendez

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drabbleitout · 5 years

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Chapter 4: Clowns to the Left, Jokers to the Right

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Myghal was starting to wonder what “Ira having a good time” entailed.

Yet, the more he thought on it, the more he realized it was probably for the best he didn’t know. Either way, being in a tavern wasn’t on the list.

Ira disregarded the crowded bar and sat them by the back window, away from mostly everyone else which took the skill of a true misanthrope considering it was packed. The table they found was barely big enough for the both of them, in the corner, and near the nook entrance of the kitchen. The smell had Myghal’s stomach growling.

Ira was leaned back in his chair, hood on and boots cross on the window sill. His hands fidgeted with one of the thin sleeve darts that Myghal discovered were sewn into the hem of his cloak. It twirled between his fingers with careless elegance. The only bit of his face visible was his usual unimpressed frowning mouth.

“Anything I can get you gents?” a young boy in an apron asked, pausing briefly with a tray of drinks hoisted on a shoulder.

“I’ll have the chicken.” Myghal offered him a smile but his face changed as little as Ira’s.

“With the neeps and tatties?”

“Uh, yes?” Myghal had never heard of either of those, but it was enough of an answer as the barhand looked to Ira.

“And you?”

He didn’t as much as offer a snarl. The barhand turned away towards another table. The small tavern was a tight fit in the muddy village outside of Galenia. Smashed between a cobbler and a candle maker, it was the only main attraction.

“So, who should we ask first?” Myghal rubbed his hands together.

“About what?” Ira growled.

“About the dragon. That’s why I wanted to sit at the bar, to get elbow to elbow with locals and see if they’ve heard any rumors.”

“A dragon?” Myghal jumped as a chair clattered down at the other side of the table. It was spun about allowing the tall woman dressed in a vest and slacks sit with her arms draped over its back. She had devious eyes, lips pulled into a crooked grin from under her wide-brimmed cavalier hat. “Name’s Kee,” she offered a hand out to Myghal.

“Nice to meet you,” He shook it, “I’m Myghal.”

“And who’s this charming manifestation of midnight dangers?” She boldly stuck her hand towards Ira, leaning across the table.

“Get any closer and I’ll take it off at the wrist.”

“Heel boy,” Kee laughed, settling back into her chair. “You’re an odd pair, ay? Not from around here, that’s for sure.” She nodded towards Ira’s boots. “Asking about a dragon, what’s that then?” She gave her attention to Myghal, situating on his side of the table. “You really looking for dragons?”

“Yeah, have you seen any?”

“Gods, I need a drink.” Ira murmured, twirling to his feet and slipping off. He stepped behind a patron and disappeared into the crowd.

“No’ alive, anyway.” Kee had turned to watch him go but kept speaking. “No one’s seen many of them since, gads, a hundred years ago? May I ask why the interest?”

“It’s a long story, but we need one of their eyes.” Kee stared at him, eyes blank as if she had just entered a room and completely forgotten why she was there. Her brow knitted, head tilted, and she came back to herself with a scowl.

“Just its eye?” He nodded, “what kind of goon wants a dragon’s eye? You making something?” she laughed, glancing over her shoulder. “Are you in with the Jakes? Making some of the drugs?”

“No. We need it for… well—”

“Hazewash.” Ira announced, both of them jumping having not heard him return. “Here, no one else seemed to worry rats were eyeing it,” he slid a plate of chicken and two piles of mashed mysteries to Myghal before flopping down in his chair. The dark wine in his cup hardly sloshed. Kee eyed him, glancing to Myghal as she leaned back in her chair.

“You’re no’ making hazewash. You’re no’ a witch.”

Ira hummed, kicking his feet back up in the window as he took a sip. Myghal stared down at his plate, sure he recognized one pile of mush as potatoes but wasn’t sure of the other.

“Hazewash needs a dragon eye? Don’t believe it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you study at the Imperial Court of Faraday?” Ira had lost his bite and was now condescendingly acidic. “Myghal took up the spoon that was shoved in the potatoes, unsure how he was supposed to use it on the chicken, but chiseled at some of the yellow pile. “By that choice of hat, I’m going to go on chance and say no.”

“No’ a witch.” Kee matched the hateful smile, “But something tells me neither are you.”

“Myghal,”

“Hmm?”

“Am I a witch?”

“Yeah. That’s why you wear that creepy cloak.” He tried what he guessed were the neeps, and instantly smiled at Ira. “They’re turnips.”

“Would a guy like that lie to you?” Ira thumbed at him, peering over his glass at Kee. “I need to make hazewash for my exam.”

“Trying to get into the Emperor’s entourage, ay?”

“So badly.” Ira had that smile again.

“Do you know about any dragons, Kee?” Myghal used his hands to take pieces of the chicken. “We’d really like to know if you do.”

“Maybe,” she crossed her arms on the chair’s back. “Need some payment. How much you pay is how much I’ll tell.”

“Figures,” Ira sighed, glass resting on the table as he pulled his feet to the floor. “But if I pay you, and you don’t know where a dragon is, I will make you a public decoration at the main gate.” He said this as if explaining the weather. Reaching into his cloak he pulled out the smaller purse of coin, letting her see it. “Do you know where a dragon is?”

Kee sat there, eyes on the coin, silent and still. Myghal worried that she didn’t know. She clearly hadn’t known Ira, challenging him the way she did, but he feared her bluff had been called and was sure Ira would hold up his end of the bargain.

“An old man who works a mountain orchard west of here says he’s seen one near the top of the Barren Tips. Says it makes a ruckus on the full moon.” She went quiet again, stare locked on Ira. He set the coin between him and Myghal, leaning over taking a swipe of potatoes on a finger.

“What do you think? Sounds like a tall tale to me.” Myghal watched him sit back, surprised.

“That actually adds up some.” He paused in thought, making sure he remembered correctly. “The Ophtenka always attacked on a full moon, so if there is really an orchard farmer, and he says it makes noise on the full moon, that sounds right.”

“What’s an open..penka?” Kee’s face soured.

“Witch talk –mind your half of the conversation.” Ira ate the potatoes off his finger, scowled and leaned in on an elbow to whisper. “You think she’s telling the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“So, we shouldn’t kill her?”

“We shouldn’t kill anyone.” Myghal glanced around.

“You said your name was Kee? What do you do for a living, Kee?”

“I’m a witch, as much as you are. But on days off, I’m a smuggler.” Her feet took her weight as she leaned over the table, “But the only part Imperial you are is as stolen as that coin you’ve got. Just like them hawk feathers, ay?” She gave a humming laugh, “Hawks were outlawed after the Empress was murdered by a Hawker. Ain’t no one in the Empire going to have you wearing hawk feathers.”

The air grew cold.

Ira pulled off his hood to give her full view of the feathers and his glare. Pressing back his chair he leaned closer, locking eyes and lowering his voice.

“You lost your leg in the siege, didn’t you?” he tilted his head with a nod to the floor. “Foreigners didn’t go quietly when you took their homes, did they? Riots tend to get out of hand even for the Imperial Guard. But you did what he asked because you were his good, little soldier. And he liked that about you, so he enchanted you a leg, didn’t he?” There was something sour about the sweetness in Ira’s tone, like poisoned nectar. “You were important, so he had you fixed up with a metal limb that almost feels right.”

Kee’s eyes narrowed, the smile melting from her face into something hurt and angry.

“But it wore on you. Those people did nothing wrong and you know that. But you thought it was behind you, that he wouldn’t ask anymore from you. And you were wrong,” Ira nodded. “He kept asking and you had nothing more to give. So, you ran. You ditched. You abandoned your post. And, now, he wants his leg back.”

“You’re not from the Empire, are you?” Kee hissed, rising to slide her chair away. “You’re not with the Imperial Court. You’re an assassin. You killed Empress Sarika, didn’t you?” Myghal pressed his plate aside at Ira’s glare, feeling as if he were watching two dogs; hair hackled, teeth bared, ready to fight. “Are you the Hawker?”

“How would you like the left to match the right?” He pulled at his dagger, Myghal shoving it back into the sheath.

“Alright, enough.” He placed a hand on Ira’s shoulder never seeing his eyes so dark. “We have our lead on a dragon. Let’s pay her and go.”

“What do you think they’re going to do to you when they find you?” Kee ignored the glare and Myghal.

“I have a pretty good idea already. And I’m sure when they get that leg from you it’ll feel the same. He won’t forget about you. He won’t give up and let you go. He can follow that magic like a dog to scent. If I were you,” Ira slid the coin purse towards her, “I’d find someone else to enchant it. Lose the scent and the hounds.” With that he stood, tossing his hood back on. Myghal followed him to the door, regretting looking over his shoulder finding Kee behind them.

“Well, you’re a witch, aren’t you?” She exited as they reached their horses.

“Let’s just go,” Myghal whispered. Ira turned as he freed Berma.

“Now you want to believe me?” He shook his head, mounting as she scurried down the steps. “You’re a maze of turned around ideas, aren’t you? An Imperial turned smuggler.” She shushed him, making a short, swiping motion in the air.

“What if I take you to that old man with the orchard, help you find that dragon?” She had steel nerves, grabbing Berma's tack as if that had any control over horse or rider. “Even if you don’t know enchantment, you’re a witch, you know someone who does, right? Maybe we can strike a deal.”

She was crafty, head tilting with a fearless smile. But, just as shocking, Ira hadn’t pulled away or moved Berma. He checked over his shoulder to Myghal. If she knew as much about the farmer, and where he was, she was their best lead. With a shrugging nod, Myghal saw no reason as to why she couldn’t help out.

“If there is an orchard farmer, and if there is a dragon, and if we get the eye, I may be able to help you.” Ira managed to still sound threatening. But it didn’t hinder Kee, grinning as her hand reared back giving a sharp clap against his leg. Ira jolted, lips pursing.

“You’re a belter! What do I call you?”

“Rook,” Ira gathered the reins, backing Berma away. Kee’s face went slack, watching him with a faint sway in her stance. Ira motioned down the road, “we're following you, smuggler. It’s a deal, remember?” She glanced to Myghal, as pale as if she had just seen death. Almost tripping on her own feet, she hurried over to untie a brown quarter horse.

“Right,” she hopped on, moving the hanging rapier to get both boots in the stirrups. “Galenia isn’t far. We can find him there.” Her horse paced anxiously, turning one way and then another before she directed them down the road.

“You could, you know, not scare everyone.” Myghal shook his head as Berma passed, Ira grinning ear to ear.

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Looks like you picked a busy time to show up,” Kee called back, almost lost in the chatter of the crowd around them. The walls blocked them from the sun, Myghal taking the chance to steal a glance up to the battlements were guards paced. They were towering, sandstone walls, banners of red fallen from each crenel like draped tongues. Each was embroidered with an extravagant but clear design of a crown.

The deep rhythm of drums bloomed into a mixture of swaying strings and the joyous chant of voices. The traffic also slowed. Sunlight spilled down from the other side of the arch, a group of young women throwing fistfuls of yellow and orange blossoms into the crowd. Large strips of fabric had been hung from one roof to another over the road, providing shade and decorating the sky with the theme of warm tones.

“Welcome to Galenia.” Kee had to yell to be heard, riding beside Myghal.

“Is it always like this?” He laughed, glancing over as someone tapped his leg. He was passed a single stemmed, orange daisy. The little girl who had given it to him giggled before rushing to the person behind Nepi, giving them one as well. “Thanks!” He called back, unsure if she could hear.

“Not always this busy, no,” Kee answered as he turned back. “This is the Festival for the Mother of the Empire. It’s a spring thing,” she waved at the air as if searching it for something. “It’s the biggest celebration of the year.”

“Mother of the Empire?” Myghal glanced ahead to make sure Ira hadn’t left. Berma was in front of them, the dark pink flower standing out from his black cloak. “Is that a Goddess?”

“No,” Kee laughed. “Well, depends on who you ask. She was the Empress, the Emperor’s wife.”

“Who was killed by the hawk?”

“You’ve got it. But this is a celebration of her life, what all she did for the Empire. She was a beloved woman.” Another shower of petals fell over them, “You couldn’t find a living soul in the Empire who disliked her. She looked out for the poor, the lesser off, and kept her husband in line. After she died,” Kee shrugged, “they were forgotten again.”

“So, why would anyone want to kill her?”

“I said inside the Empire. Outside of the Empire, any Imperial is an enemy. My guess is they wanted to start a war. Which would’a happened, if the Emperor knew who killed her. That’s why there’s such a high reward on the Prince. You find him, you can find who’s responsible. The Emperor would probably make you a Lord for that.” She knocked the back of her hand against his shoulder, “There, that’s Empress Sarika!”

She pointed ahead, to a fountain inlaid in the side of a building. Myghal leaned in search of a person, a reenactor, or a tomb, but found a statue. Traffic slowed to an almost halt as everyone paused to look or bow. They inched along, chatter lowering to silence.

The large statue was of a woman, realistically carved of brown soapstone, seated above the elongated fountain of white tile. Berma slowed to a stop, Ira twirling the flower between his fingers before tossing it into the pool. It floated alone among the babbling ripples. He stared at the face of the Empress, people moving around him as he took his time. Then, just as slowly, he lifted two fingertips to his forehead, bowing and dropping the salute in a low hook.

If Myghal hadn’t seen it himself, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Berma moved along and by more habit, Nepi strolled up to take their place. No one else threw their flowers, placing them instead on the fountain wall or at its sides. Myghal dropped his with the others, finding himself lost in studying her face. She was thin, chin lifted with a strong jaw and a sleek nose. There was something about her, familiar, as if he had seen her somewhere before. Had she visited their council? Was she an ambassador? Had he seen her among their elders?

In a daze he pressed his fingertips to his brow—

“What are you doing?” Kee grabbed his wrist, tugging it away as she nervously laughed, “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“What?” He nudged Nepi forward as she pulled at him. “What did I do?”

“Saluting like that. Don’t do that. The guards will think you’re mocking them and you’ll get tossed out.”

“It’s a salute?”

“You just do things without knowing what they are? Yes. The Emperor's salute. It’s supposed to mean loyalty in thought to the Emperor, but no one but the guard really use it. Unless you’re trying to pick a fight.” She laughed, nudging him with an elbow. “Civilians don’t do that, so… don’t.”

“Oh, alright.” He stared at Ira, wondering what it meant. If he hated the Emperor, why salute the Empress? Or was it as sarcastic as his entirety? Was that the reason for tossing his flower as he did? Even as loved as she was by everyone, did he hate her as much as the Emperor?

Leave it to Ira to hate a motherly, charitable person.

“The farmer always sells on the square,” Kee moved up beside Ira now that the traffic had thinned. People swept into open stalls and shops, road splitting off and widening. “He’s the only one with apples so he’s not hard to miss.”

Myghal was still stuck on Ira, the salute, the Empress. He couldn’t make sense of it –not that he had any luck before in unscrambling the shadowy conundrum of the cloak and hood. He was like distant stars in the sky, to look directly at them you saw nothing, but watch from the corner of your eye and there he was.

“Myghal,” he stopped at the stall, not remembering getting down from Nepi. Ira stood beside him, eyes darting to the owner in signal. It finally caught up to him that they had been discussing the dragon.

“You’re sure it’s a dragon?” He asked, hoping it was congruent to the conversation.

“Pretty sure,” he was so old and thin Myghal wondered how he brought his apples down from the mountains. “My grandfather used to tell me stories of the dragon on Barren Tips. He was a sheep farmer, you see, like his father and them. Used to eat his flock. I was smart and grew apples. Dragons don’t eat apples.” He laughed at this like a tireless joke.

“What was that you said about the full moon?”

“Oh, I hear it. All screams and barks like nothing I’ve ever heard. Saw it once, was pretty sure.”

“What did it look like?”

“Great winged thing. A shadow, with a long neck and tale.”

“Antlers? Horns?” Myghal asked gaining a scowl. “Was it long and thin, like a serpent?”

“No. Great and big, like a dragon. No bird or snake like it. Far too big.” Ira looked at Myghal, expecting and waiting for a verdict.

“It doesn’t sound like an Ophtenka,” he glanced to Kee who took a step away. Ira grabbed her sleeve with a blind snap. “But, that doesn’t mean it’s not a dragon. It can’t be far if he lives near it –no offense,” he gave an apologetic glance to the old man, “but if he brings apples to town he can’t live far from here.”

“You can get there by nightfall,” the old man patted Myghal's shoulder. “And it'll be a perfect night for it!”

“Of course,” Ira grumbled, “It’s a full moon.”

“Oh…” Myghal hadn’t considered they’d have found their lead so soon, and possibly a fight for their life to go with it. By the idle pause, Ira seemed to be considering the same. “Well, we better stock up.”

“You’re in the perfect place for that.” Kee reassured, passing him a sympathetic pat, “I’m sure you can find everything you need here.”

“Then let’s hurry up,” Ira sighed. “If we need to get there by nightfall we don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

“Want me to look after the horses? You’ll be able to get what you need a lot faster.”

“You?” Ira scoffed.

“I’m not going to run off with them! We had a deal, remember?” Offended she snapped at him. “Besides, I know who I’m dealing with. Heard enough bedtime stories about you.”

“It will be easier to go about this crowd with out them,” Myghal gave Nepi’s reins over to her. Ira remained cemented in place,

“Where am I going to take them, to the Emperor?”

“Give me your sword.”

“What?! No!”

“We trade until we’re done.” Ira held out a hand, egging her on with a wave of fingers, “My horse for your sword.”

“Be glad he isn’t asking for your leg.” Myghal shook his head. With a dramatic sling of her head she turned, unfastening her sword and handing it over.

“If you trade it for anything, I will ruin you.”

“Charming,” Ira tied it to his belt beneath his cloak. “I don’t have to tell you what will happen if my horse goes missing.” He gave up the reins and turned.

“What about Nepi?” Myghal smirked, “you’re not going to make a threat for him.”

“If something happens, you better hope you can keep up with Berma.”

Ira gave up on lecturing Myghal. It was clear he wouldn't listen, or refused to break any habit. He was going to do whatever he wanted, either way, and Ira concluded he didn't have the breath to waste anymore. If it was a real dragon they were facing, their chances of survival were slimmer than the rapier on his hip. He worried more over haggling for supplies. Myghal stayed out of it for the most part, or, rather, avoided it.

Ira noticed the way he busied himself with people rather than searching for items. At first, he assumed it was nerves, but later discovered it was more the way he was than anything. He kept drifting off, rushing out of line to find someone to interact with in the crowd. Someone’s dog or child. Almost getting himself killed to catch someone’s falling tower of packages. Helping an old woman reach what crowds wouldn’t let her access.

Every time Ira turned around, Myghal was in someone else's business.

"Ira," Myghal leaned over his shoulder, whisper a worrying contrast to the bustle. "Can I have a few coins?"

"What did you break?" Ira expected to turn and find Myghal frowning but found a gentle smile instead. He had those bright eyes, excited and warm. Ira slipped a few from his purse, barely setting them in Myghal’s hand before he darted off.

Finishing with buying enough rope, Ira stepped aside to search for him. He noticed Myghal at a stall further down the road, buying food. It was odd considering Ira had previously gotten enough to last them to the mountains and their possible trip back. He had also just eaten. As to why he bought an apple, a slice of bread, and jerky, Ira had to know.

What is he doing? He decided to follow Myghal who hurried off in the other direction. He left the square. He left the market. He left the festivities ending up in a quieter, older area of the city. Backstreets became dirt instead of brick. Windows shuttered or boarded. And everything reeked of urine. Myghal trotted on, winding his way down to an alley that looked more fitting for dumping a body than a lunch break.

Ira slowed, slinking towards the alley entrance hearing voices. Pressed to the wall he peered around the corner.

Myghal had found a pile of garbage, some thrown out table that had become a kingdom of strewn forgottens. Crates, broken barrels, tattered sheets, and countless bottles. He was crouched before it, opening the linen his goods were wrapped in. Tearing off a bit of bread he held it out towards the garbage pile. Rage boiled up, Ira starting to wheel around the corner, when a small, dirty hand drifted out from the rubbish.

"It's alright," Myghal smiled, head tilting as he watched them. "Aren't you hungry?" He leaned closer.

The little fingers snatched it from Myghal's hold, retreating into their hovel. He chuckled, as warm as ever, tearing off another piece. "See there?" Another hand reached out, larger, thin and frail. A woman leaned out from the pile, wrapped in rags with a sunken face smeared in dirt. "Here, there’s plenty."

Myghal didn't scowl or flinch at their condition. He didn't grimace if their hands accidentally touched. He didn't even belittle them in his offering with fake smiles or pity in his eyes. His smile was genuine, completely him, and it only brightened as he offered jerky next. "This will last longer. Go on, you can have it."

The mother stared at him, wide eyes beginning to run with tears as her shaking hands took the food. Her son emerged from his thin blanket, sniffing heavily. A child, mostly bone, his keen eyes caught sight of Ira and looked.

Staggering back from the corner, Ira pressed his back against the wall. He didn’t understand. Growing up on the streets of Felmire, no one had ever given him a scrap of anything. People sneered and kicked as if he were some mangy, wild animal when he was just a boy. He had seen people drop scraps to rats and care less than allowing any street urchins to have it.

Yet, Myghal... Myghal used his share for strangers.

If Ira had met Myghal sooner, would his life be different? Better? Was now too late? He leaned his head back against the wall, letting the air out of his lungs and shutting his eyes. Did it matter now? Scraps and smiles wouldn’t do them any good facing down a dragon.

"I know you're mad," Myghal was there, pleading. "But just take it out of my part. I've still got some left, and I can cover the extra. I'll take an extra job. Maybe someone needs some firewood cut around here or something." Ira grimaced trying to clear his thoughts, like mentally swatting flies. “I know the coin won’t last forever, but if a dragon is anything like an Ophtenka we might not even have them time to spend—”

"I'm not mad." The words came out gradually, one at a time, opening his eyes to stare up into the blue sky.

"Wait... you're not?"

"No," Ira wanted to say something more. Something about what Myghal had done, but he wasn’t even sure what he would say. Or, really, what he even felt.

"Are you sick?"

A chuckle broke from Ira, helpless and biting, "Yes. I am."

"Do we need to go find a doctor?"

"Don't worry about it." Ira stepped off the wall, huffing as Myghal pressed him back against it. The smile was gone, eyes dark and brows low keeping a heavy hand against Ira's chest.

"What's wrong?" It was a strange way to sound caring, low and dangerous.

"Nothing."

"It's something. Are you really sick? You don't have a fever do you?" The hand moved up to Ira's face, trying to check. He panicked, a twisting, bolt of a feeling shooting through his chest. Knocking Myghal's wrist aside he slipped away.

"It’s nothing! I was… worried. That’s all. You ran off and I thought maybe you saw that smuggler take off with our horses.” Myghal didn’t let the stare go so easily. It took him a moment to give in. “I’ve got enough, I think. At least for if we don’t survive this.”

“Let me have that.” Myghal took the bag with an effortless tug, shouldering it. “If you’re sick, the last thing you need to do is haul all this around. Dead or not, if we’ve got to fight this thing you need to be at your best.” A finger prodded into Ira’s chest, that dark look still in Myghal’s eyes. “If it gets worse, we call it off.”

“What? No. Myghal, I’m not really sick.” Ira scoffed, following him. “Are you listening? We’re getting the eye. I’m not waiting anymore.”

#AU Time!#5k Words #This is so long #Long Post #I'm sorry!

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