Fantasy Cosmical Glitch ( ellarose & starboob. )

[starboob]

Juno would never in a million years have thought about channeling someone else’s magic––taking from them what is precious and finite. Even her worst self would not have done that to a person; she would have rather given them an easy death than something like this. Not that she intends to kill the faerie, but it is a fear. That she will. That she won’t know what she’s doing and the faerie will be nothing more than a handful of ash in her palm. (She promises herself that if that happens, dead goddess forbid, she won’t stop fighting. She won’t let this faerie go down in vain. She won’t rest until she makes sure that everyone remembers Olette and her complicated and impossible to remember last name. Those forgetful flowers may have been for Cerise, but she knows they were important to the faerie, too. Her faerie.) ‘You aren’t going to hurt her. This won’t be like…’ She can’t finish the thought, but the still wounded animal in her chest knows exactly what she is thinking. What she is remembering. What she wishes she could forget. Her face drops for the briefest second before she catches it and hardens her gaze. ‘Just go slow. Use your fucking head, for once.’

That Olette knows something about channeling doesn’t necessarily surprise Juno. She’s a fucking genius, so of course she knows about this. (It doesn’t occur to her to think about any implications, if only because she knows so little about the faerie despite that earlier feeling that she has known her for her entire life.) When the faerie bleeds away the color in her hair, eyes, and other illusions, she understands that Olette means business. Not that she doubted it, but this is just another way for her to know. (She notices, too, how Olette refuses to look at her. Her heart pinches. Part of her wants to curl a finger beneath her chin and tilt her gaze up. Part of her wants to tell her, “Your eyes aren’t like Gran’s. I’m not scared of what I’ll see.” The other part of her knows that is not what they do and, maybe, that part of her simultaneously wishes they did.)

She takes a slow deep breath when Olette takes her hand, pushing away all her prior experiences with channeling souls and how horribly they all went. She has to let the faerie in and to do that, she needs to push herself to the side to make room. In her mind’s eye, she pictures a wide grassy field, not too unlike the one she runs through in her dreams, and uses that calm to invite Olette into the greenscape of her soul.

Even with this simple step in channeling, the world around them reacts. and Juno hasn’t even begun to take from the faerie. As of right now, it’s a flow of energy going back and forth in harmony. It’s odd, but not unpleasant. It just is and when Juno accepts this, she’s able to look around at their changed world and how a dome protects them from drowning. (How long will that hold?) While her own body doesn’t glow, not in the same way as Olette’s, sparks of necromantic energy dance over her body like zipping currents of electricity. (She doesn’t think this has ever happened before.) More than that, she can see, not just feel, the thin spider web-like threads of death covering almost every inch of this once temple. She doesn’t even have to conjure an image of what this place might have looked like in its prime, she can see it clearly––the ghost of the temple, the statue of this goddess wielding a triton and a whaling harpoon slung behind her back. Her maidens––priestesses, she assumes––tending to her house. Patrons swimming in and out to say their prayers or make their offerings. It occurs to her that these are not figments of her imagination, but she is quite literally looking into a scene from the past left behind by its ghosts.

She’s so taken by the newness of this experience that she doesn’t remember Olette until she feels the squeeze around her hand. She squeezes right back, automatically, to offer her assurance. “The cube might be an asshole, but it's never let us die before. We’ll be okay.” It may blast them from dangerous situation to dangerous situation, but it’s never once left them hanging. (Well, okay, there was that one time when they got separated in that labyrinth and Juno was sure they were going to die fighting all those monsters (Juno does realize now that Olette really had taken out all those monsters and hadn’t just found a pile of corpses to sit on), but even then they didn’t die. They survived despite the odds. She doesn’t want to consider this as a possibility, but she has a sneaking suspicion the cube might know their limits better than they do and only removes them from situations they truly cannot handle.)

“My little––?” She doesn’t get to finish the question when Olette tugs her towards the crushed mer-skeleton. Something about the gesture causes her to blush and she’s thankful she’s following the faerie and that Olette cannot see this. Maybe it’s just that she is taking her along? Even if they have to be holding hands now, she’d like to pretend that it means something else.

Like a dope, she happily follows along and observes as the faerie brushes over the glyph––

A scene plays out before her, suddenly, when the glyph stamps itself onto the dome above. It’s a fraction of this planet’s history, just a page, but she sees this mermaid’s last moments. Undoubtedly, she is a servant to this goddess. She can feel her fear. The pulse of her heart and how it throbbed and strained as she tried to… to do something? More than likely protect the temple and, by extension, her goddess. She watches as the mermaid casts a glyph around the house; it shines bright like a beacon. (It vaguely reminds Juno of the light from those freaky fish that once tried to arrest them.) She can tell that the glyph is meant for protection, but she also could have made that assumption on her own. It’s an odd sort of protection spell, however, because rather than push the bad out, it seems to draw the nightmare infection in. It seems this priestess thought it best to try to devour the oncoming storm. (Juno doesn’t know much about the ocean, but she knows that it’s like a gaping mouth that endlessly swallows. Maybe that’s what the mermaid priestess was aiming to do––after all, what is too big for an ocean to consume?) ‘Fuck.’

Juno nods at Olette’s question. “Y-yeah,” she says, her voice shaky. Though not necessarily from strain but perhaps picking up on the emotional signature left behind by this temple’s final moments. “The second you touched the glyph, I saw something.” She closes her eyes and focuses on the faerie's hand in hers. “The past, I think. The glyph, this one, I think is supposed to attract prey. The mermaids saw the incoming corruption as something they could overpower and tried to treat it––”

Something stirs behind them, interrupting the necromancer’s thought. “Shit.” She doesn’t need to turn around to know what’s happening, because this place is fucking haunted. It is haunted by both the horror of what happened and the anguished spirits of the holy women. (Or evil fish bitches, as she’s sure Olette would call them. The thought causes her to smile, but she keeps it tucked away inside, just for herself.) This is not hard to know given a goddess’s skeleton lays here, along with her most devout worshippers. Knowing their spirits are still here, she has a feeling these fallen clerics aren’t going to let two strangers who mirror the forces that destroyed their world help so easily. They still linger here and are still trying to protect their temple. (Like how grandma Duchess is still with the goddess, though she eternally calls for Cerise.)

The one before them is stirring; her spirit peels off her skeleton––her body split where it was crushed, though it’s still loosely connected by the vertebrae of her spine and her ghostly innards. Her scales has transformed into sharp points, in fact, so much of her seems sharp as razors. The revenant mermaid shrieks at them, loud enough that the pillar she had been trapped under cracks; loud enough that Juno can barely think.

"Olette." She tries to collect her thoughts together as she reaches out her hand towards the corrupted cleric. "I know she's an evil fish bitch, but we can't destroy her," which is a tragedy for the homicidal pirate, "I think we have to help her. That glyph you activated, it's supposed to shine a beacon. If you draw it, I think we can capture her and then I might be able to heal her, in a way." As a necromancer, she most knows how to summon, use, and destroy spirits––she doesn't necessarily know how to lay them to rest but... But if the Shrike parted any wisdom onto her when she blessed her, it's the logic of cycles and that the traditional uses of necromancy are just one part of a cycle. (This is how she figured out healing, but many years too late.) Doing some good here might make the heart more obvious to them or might at least show them the correct order that they need to activate the rest of the glyphs (she's hoping). She squeezes Olette's hand once more for good luck.

 

[ellarose]

Catching the stutter in the pirate's voice, Lettie's mouth puckers with concern as she tries to figure out where it's coming from. (Juno needs to rest. That one thought is as prominent as those dark circles under her eyes. But there's more to it than that and she can tell just by looking at her.) Then she reveals that she saw something and the faerie gives her hand a squeeze, recalling the way Juno reciprocated the gesture earlier when she assured her that everything would be okay. The past, the function of the glyph (attracting prey, hm?), and somehow it doesn't surprise Lettie that those arrogant fucking mermaids would taunt the danger they obviously couldn't fight. (Of course, these criticisms are just a hollow, echoing sound when confronted with these ruins. For as much as many mermaids have pissed her off throughout the course of her life, she doesn't wish this fate on any world. Like, that facet of her own morality really looked her in the eye back when they toppled an entire civilization by accident. Ugh. They really do owe the worlds their service for that one, don't they?) Besides, some of the fish bitches might've been cool for all she knew. That usually is the case. People always look at faeries and squash them all together in the same category, exactly the same way. Mermaids and faeries can at least understand each other on that level. That... might be what fuels their ongoing rivalry, on some level. This was their home, their safe haven, and they've had it completely obliterated. That's a tragedy no matter who is the victim of it.

'Shit.' Juno's voice cuts through Lettie's thoughts and her heart jumps, as if preparing to dodge something unexpected and dangerous. She perks up, alert, whipping her head from side to side to see what the pirate's referring to. She sees... nothing? And because she sees nothing a chill does a cryptic dance over her skin, prickling gooseflesh (ugh just the word makes her shudder) all over her arms. (She's responding to some type of presence, because her wings and body by extension are now flickering with that unsettling palette designed to unnerve those who threaten her. The butterflies fluttering around in her ribcage are psychedelic, their wings leaving trails of light behind like little neon sticks in the air at a concert.) Something must be there if Juno is reacting to it. (Lettie's body is, too, even if her mind still needs to catch up. Something is posing a danger to them. But how is she supposed to contribute if she can't see it?) The faerie squints, as if the act of concentrating alone might help her see... but it doesn't work. All she does is jump and hug onto the pirate's entire (stupidly buff) arm as the pillar in front of them cracks unexpectedly. And she's pretty sure she hears a scream. It's distant, but it's there.

Juno reveals what she's seeing as she explains her thoughts on their situation-- which does save them a few precious seconds, because it means she doesn't have to waste them asking questions. They're dealing with an evil fish bitch (not so good) and in her case, an invisible evil fish bitch. The faerie nods along with this hurriedly, because she does believe that Juno is seeing what she claims to be seeing and that she has the right idea about this. She's piecing all of this together quickly based on what she's been shown thus far, because her survival instincts are killer, and Lettie is willing to try this out because she thinks it might just work. (Juno did not come out of the womb stupidly buff and strong... a point that becomes all the more prevalent when she thinks of Juno and James as scrawny kids. So scrawny it breaks her heart to think about. Obviously she's had to be fucking smart to get as far as she has.) However...

"Okay. So this, uh, might not be the best time to say this..." Lettie begins, glancing anxiously between Juno and the place where her stormy eyes are set. There is no other time she could possibly say this, though, so she just needs to say it. Out with it! "But I can't see her. Whoever you're seeing right now, I don't..." Another chill rattles through her, showing transparently through her illuminated rainbow self in shades of blue that compliment the haunted ocean they're in. "I think I can feel her? But I don't see her." (...Fuck. Fuck. Is there something wrong with her? Are her eyes not sharp enough for this?)

The mermaid's spirit leans back, sucking in a deep breath before pushing forward and bellowing out another mournful scream. The force of her vocals blows them and their magical bubble backward, sending them somersaulting through the water and into another broken pillar. What!? Lettie only has one thought on her mind as she closes her eyes tight to endure the hit. Whatever you do, don't let go. No matter what, you can't let go. She holds tightly to Juno to make sure that they're still connected no matter what. When she opens her eyes again, she finds herself lying on top of the pirate. Disoriented, she gives her head a slow shake. (There is part of her that just wants to melt against the warmth of Juno's chest and dissolve into nothingness. While that might feel nice (what) initially, that's the same as giving up. And she's not fucking giving up. But how is she supposed to do this when she can't see?) "Juju..." She peers into her eyes worriedly. (At least she can see the pirate. It helps, reminding herself that she's not alone.)

They're not alone, though-- if they want to survive, she needs to remember that as well. The spirits here have an energy that she's attuned to. Sensing unseen movement in another chill that races down her spine, the faerie grits her teeth and studies the glyph on the surface of their orb as she climbs off of the pirate, tugging her up to follow her. "Fuck it." Lettie hurriedly traces the glyph with her free hand. She blindly aims it in the general direction that Juno was looking before. (One of the butterflies in her chest dissolves away as she expends this bit of her magic.) This shoots off a useless beam of light that ricochets down the path of ruins illuminated by other glyphs. "Did... did I get her?" She doesn't sense a change. "No?"

There is a change, though. Because that beam of light effectively rouses the whole path of vengeful mermaid skeletons. One by one, their spirits peel free of their broken bones and join together in an army of fish bitch souls. Lettie can't see it... but again, she feels a whole bunch of ugly headed right for them as another shiver courses through her. She gulps. "I fucked up, didn't I?" Her lower lip trembles and she bites down on it before she can completely lose herself to panic. Of course she fucked up. She's a disaster magnet! "Okay, okay, let's... try to salvage this Letts." Yes, she's giving herself a pep-talk out loud. Considering they might be fucked, though, she can't bring herself to feel embarrassed about that right now.

The faerie draws the glyph on their orb again. She does so slower this time to make sure she replicates the curvature exactly the way she sees it. This time she holds onto it, ignoring the tidal wave of bad vibes headed their way as she fuels her focus into the magical energy it radiates rather than releasing it right away. Slow and steady. One of the remaining butterflies in her chest frays and flickers. You're not alone. "...Juno, you're gonna have to be my eyes. Just tell me where to aim."

 

[starboob]

“Fuck,” she hisses the curse between her teeth, her stormy gaze never leaving the shuttering image of the mutilated mermaid. Of course Olette can’t see this. She’s not a fucking necromancer. She’s a fucking faerie. (The fucking faerie, at that.) Were this a nightmare, some dead thing clinging between the liminal space between life and death, it would be a non-issue. But this fact confirms what Juno feared––this is a malevolent spirit, something felt by most and seen by few. (At least Olette can feel the presence of the entity. That’s something. Although a spirit who has bottled aged her rage for myriads would be hard to miss, she guesses. Whatever, it works to their slight advantage now.) She doesn’t want to chance losing the current mer-bitch by looking over at Olette, but she can see the flash of changing colors through the corners of her eyes, reminding her of when they first met and that dinner with the Duchess. Juno rubs the space between the faerie’s thumb and forefinger with her thumb, both to show comfort and that she understands. Maybe a different Juno would have been irritated she’s not able to see this, but the present Juno, who has somehow softened under stress, understands there’s no blame. It’s not her fault. Being upset over this would be like if Olette were to get mad that Juno doesn't have pretty little wings or butterflies in her chest. (Although, being around the faerie certainly makes her feel otherwise.) “Yeah, of course you can’t see shit. Fuck. That’s alright. Don’t fuckin’ worry about what you can’t see. Just worry about what you can feel.”

Juno readies her stance for the mermaid’s strike but, being trapped in some stupid fucking bubble, she can't dig her heels into something solid (or somewhat solid). So when their bubble goes tumbling backwards, all the pirate can do is tense and make sure she doesn’t lose Olette’s hand. (It feels like the most important task in the world, to not let go of her.) Dizzied, it takes her a moment to reorient and while she ordinarily wouldn’t mind being trapped under the faerie (nope, nope, nope not questioning that), they need to be on their feet again and the faerie seems to realize this too and gets off her. (It’s different than other times she’s sprung off of the pirate. This time, it doesn’t feel like she’s disgusted? Something to investigate later, to be sure.)

She watches as the faerie draws the glyph, aims, and fires––it happens too quickly for Juno to correct her. ‘It’s fine. It’s fine. Adapt.’ She notes that when Olette releases the glyph, one of the butterflies zipping in her chest disappears. She lifts her brow and counts the ones that remain, making a loose connection, though she’s not certain on it. Still, it feels important to note these raver butterflies. “You totally fucking missed,” she confirms, bluntly, but not in a mean-spirited way. She’s about to continue, but the other skeletons start to rumble as the glyph draws them out of their long slumber. She purses her lips together but doesn’t curse or make any indication that this is, technically, the faerie’s doing. It’s fine. It’s fine. (“Mistakes can be opportunities,” James used to say with his reassuring grin. Annoyingly reassuring, Juno used to think.)

“Let’s what?” Juno asks, perplexed by the faerie’s half-thought to salvage the situation. (Nope, she still doesn’t recognize Olette’s nicknames.) The mermaids are starting to gather, hissing at their bubble, and sucking in a collective breath the moment that her companion attempts the glyph again. (She notes the flickering butterfly, more or less confirming what she was guessing earlier.) “Oh, yeah. Let's do that,” she nods, taking a step behind the faerie, crouching behind her as she moves her arm to point at the center of the malevolent spirit army. She rests her chin on Olette’s head, purely to get a better idea of her aim. “The second you release, get onto my back.”

The mermaids, lean forward, opening their mouths––

“Now!” Juno shouts. Though she had told Olette to get on her back the second the spell is released, she doesn't have the patience and instead scoops her up and places her there, tucking Olette’s arm under her own so that they are still connected by their hands. Rather than watch what happens, she starts running, pushing their bubble encasing forward so that they can get around the group. She doesn’t know how long the spell is going to hold them and she doesn’t know how long it’s going to take her to reverse engineer summoning, something she’s never done before. But she doesn’t have another choice, does she? The worlds depend on it. Their lives depend on it. Olette’s life depends on it.

‘Cycles. Everything is a cycle.’ She remembers this lesson as she jumps, letting their bubble fly up into the water so that she can get a better view of the mermaids. When the bubble softly lands some paces behind the group, she closes her eyes to ready the ritual, but not before telling Olette, “Hey, I need you to focus on what you can feel, because I’ve got to concentrate and clear my head. If you feel them getting restless again, just call my name and I’ll come back.”

‘Necromancers are a bridge,’ she reminds herself. (James was always great with manipulating souls. Sometimes she felt that he could read the living as well as he could the dead. He always knew what others were feeling before they knew it themselves. She used to find that endlessly annoying, but she also loved him for it. Before the Shrike, he had just started getting into summoning and had shared with Juno that it wasn’t hard to draw in spirits once you realize all they want is what any being would want, peace. He treated them as if they were still alive and, Juno supposes, she understands that now.) Maybe it isn’t so much reverse engineering summoning as it is opening an exit as opposed to an entrance. Inviting them to go to some place where there is peace. Juno just has to find something peaceful to concentrate on to make herself that exit, just as she might try to make herself an entrance.

It’s never been easy for Juno to concentrate on something peaceful, however––her life hasn’t been peaceful and the peaceful moments either bring out pain or have been blurred with dust, drink, and bodies. There’s a reason she’s never been good at summoning. There’s a reason she’s only been able to attract spirits like Abigail, who just wandered through the gate by chance; or Inez, who was simply bored; or Marjorie, who probably worried for the person opening the door. Promising a spirit peace has never been something she has been able to fake. She’s never been like James who could smile and make people feel calm. But she doesn’t find it so difficult now with Olette’s hand in hers. This would not have always been true, but in this moment, thinking of Olette, her warmth, her smile, the way she says her name… When she imagines what it’d be like to rest her head on her chest and listen for her heart or the fluttering butterflies in her chest; when she imagines a history between them that has never existed; when she imagines what her life might have been had she met the faerie as a kid, it’s an assurance she’s never known. It’s safety and warm, something she hadn't known she yearned for until it landed on the deck of her ship and changed her life forever.

Even if this peace is half-fabricated, it’s all Juno has and maybe the promise of possibility can be enough. It has to be. So she focuses on it like willing a flower to bloom with a warm gaze alone.

With the bait in her mind's eye, she holds her palm in front of her like she’s trying to keep the mermaids at bay (and maybe she is), but she realizes that this needs to be an invitation, so she flips her palm up like she’s offering them her hand. The sparks around her body begin to dance, the flow of energy between herself and Olette mixing together as she strains to call the mermaids towards herself. “Come to me” she says, her voice sounding like an echo as she attempts to entice the captivated spirits. “This burden isn’t yours. Not anymore.”

One of the mermaids, the one with the split body, lazily rolls her head to look over at them in the bubble. “You understand not what you have done. The core you’ve brought belongs to Death herself. Your clever trap will break and you will be devoured. Leave while you still can or face our thousand year anger.”

Her voice cuts through Juno’s head like glass and whether from strain or the noise, it causes her ears to bleed. This only causes the pirate to double down on her efforts. She calls to mind moments with Olette––ones that feel real, but she isn’t sure if they ever happened––of them lying under stars after clearing a beach of seashells; of Olette, James, and her blue haired friend and the feeling that they had been thick as thieves; the comfort of knowing someone’s got her as much as she has them. Juno pours everything she has into convincing the mermaids that she can free them from their grief, misery, and anger.

One of them––not the mutilated one––sheds a tear and swims towards the bubble. “But who will protect our temple? Who will make sure our goddess is not forgotten?”

“We will,” Juno promises, pushing her hand through the odd barrier encasing them, feeling the rush of cold around her fingers and the weight of the ocean on her hand. She doesn’t pull back even though it sends pain shooting up her arm.

“How?” another asks, joining her sister and staring at the necromancer’s hand with longing.

“My goddess has shown us how to restore the worlds.”

“Can we trust a faerie?”

“Can we trust a necromancer?”

“You don’t fuckin’ have to.” She says this cautiously, unsure of how to negotiate when words aren’t her usual means of de-escalation. “It doesn’t change our mission and if you stand in our way, we won’t have a choice but to extinguish you. And I’d rather not fuckin’ take a dead goddess’s devouts from her. You can return to your fuckin’ goddess as yourselves or as these gnarled versions. Choice is yours.”

By this point, Juno doesn’t know how much longer she can keep this up. Her vision is spotting and she’s not trying to take anything from Olette if she can help it. It’s not because she doesn’t want the faerie’s help, but she can’t burn her up before they even reach the heart of the planet. Who knows what kind of magic they'll need to resurrect that.

The mermaids deliberate amongst themselves in a language Juno doesn’t understand, and she can tell that the mutilated one is giving them the most push back. But her position isn’t favored among her sisters and, eventually, she relents. When the mermaids approach the necromancer, all grab onto her hand at once; when they do, energy swirls around the necromancer as she becomes a gateway. Their malevolent selves flicker and shift back into who they once were, at the height of their beauty––the one who had been split even returns to a whole. With one final push, the necromancer releases their spirits into the realm of the dead, making it seem as though they have dissolved into a puff of bubbles as they disappear one by one.

Promptly afterwards, Juno stumbles backwards and pulls her now blue hand into her core for warmth. “That was a fuckin’ bitch,” she mutters in a rare admission that she’s not as well as she’d like. But Olette is safe. She won’t use this against her. “Let’s get those fuckin’ glyphs before my fuckin’ hand falls off, yeah?”

 

[ellarose]

'She's close.' Lettie swallows. She can feel Juno press in behind her, brushing against her wings, firmly holding her arm to level her aim at a specific point and... the faerie blinks, looking upward with a blush on her cheeks (that embarrassingly spreads further and turns the entirety of her that same blush-pink) when she recognizes that the pirate has plopped her chin down right on top of her head. 'Geez, I'm not a headrest!' The remnants of a sassy little voice that hasn't quite died off yet riots in her mind, half-sheepish and half-ticked. She shushes it as quickly as it appears. (That part of her doesn't totally mind the position is completely irrelevant to their very important mission, which should really be the only thing that she's focusing on right now. Especially with these sinister vibrations in the air.) She would be more concerned about that, she thinks, if Juno's grip on her was not so sure and unwavering. She's got her. Didn't even blame her for the fact that she can't see the danger... and she's kind of gotten used to that. So the words 'that's alright, don't fuckin' worry about it' help her to relax. There's no blame being laid at her feet and that reassurance is everything to her. Lettie's confidence is as firm as the pirate's grip that she is steering her correctly.

Later, she'll acknowledge it was a good thing that Juno outright lifted her up once she released that glyph. (Because admittedly she didn't completely hear those instructions over the sound of her own damned thoughts.) In the moment, however... "Eek!" The faerie gasps and then hides her face against the back of the pirate's neck. "Juju, geez." It's little more than a winded huff of air, an expression of familiarity more so than pure annoyance. Ah, fuck! As if she doesn't have enough to be embarrassed about already! Lettie hugs tighter to keep herself securely on Juno's back as she springs forward into a run and her ride becomes bumpier. 'She's close.' (Again, Lettie cannot help the fact that the stars aligned and fated her to be a hopelessly gay faerie. That is who she is and that will never change.) She didn't get a chance to fully appreciate the sensation of being pressed up against Juno's back the first time, with the blazing white-hot pain she was in at the time. Their lives are in peril yet again, yes, but these particular circumstances do leave her with a little more room to appreciate the muscle around her shoulders and--

'Now's not the time, Letts.' Lettie presses in even closer to Juno as she reprimands herself, the sensations of the mermaids grieving mounts in her chest. She'll acknowledge all of this later, too. (But maybe it's never the time. Like, this is Juno she's thinking about. And yet-- and yet that phrase sounds less like an impossibility when she considers the way the pirate's been looking at her lately. Agh! Stop, stop, stop. This is Juno!) And the last time she let herself fall... the last time-- the last time-- the mermaid's grief swirls deeper and mingles with her own, swelling to the point that it almost draws tears from her eyes. Her chest aches physically, it's impossible to breathe. Caring for someone in that way is the equivalent of stuffing them in a coffin, for all the chaos her life designs. She's learned her lesson. Over... and over... The faerie snaps her eyes shut to crush the gathering tears before they can start. 'I can't do that to her.'

Lettie's form is as blue as the ocean surrounding them when Juno tells her to focus on how she's feeling. (It's sadness, a weight that drags her down to the bottom of this sea of grief like an anchor. It reminds her of those days that she wakes up and doesn't want to leave her bed. Lying face down on the floor just to feel something other than whatever the hell is going on in her chest.) "...Will do. Go get 'em." The faerie concedes, bolstering another one of her smiles in spite of it all. (It's a bit wobbly at the corners but Juno's eyes are already closed. Who is the smile for, anyway? Why is she still pretending for herself?) Focus on what you can feel. It's easier said than done. Acting as a vessel for magic is more than it looks like on the surface level. The faerie has always been more than she seems on the surface level, suffering in silence. (And not always by choice.) But if this is what is expected of her... she tries to reign her focus on the mermaids losses instead of her own.

This really is an unbelievable turn of events, that the cube would somehow orchestrate a scenario where Olette Lycoris Radiata of all faeries finds herself sympathizing with these invisible fucking fish bitches. The worlds may be different and responses to loss may vary from person to person-- but it's the sort of pain that can touch anyone. She peers out into the empty waters devoid of life, at the swaying seaweed and dark underwater cavern ahead. The mermaids are there, although she can't see them. (And she assumes the heart must be hidden somewhere beyond them, in the darkness stretching ahead.) For now the mermaids aren't restless. They're just sad. They feel that there's nothing that can be done, with everything around them completely obliterated.

'I understand.' Lettie thinks it and feels it all at once. 'It might not seem like it but I do.' The voice that can open up about all of this has been silenced long ago, taken away from her by force. (Sometimes it feels like she is a ghost, screaming her story into a vast and unfeeling void. The very one that the reaper calls home, lodged in the very heart of Avangeline. Feeding on faerie dust-- the components of her soul, her essence, her magic. It keeps their world beautiful even as it advances. Yes, Avangeline still stands as other worlds fall... but not without sacrifice. Lettie knows this all too well. She can acknowledge the grim truth that the cube likely only needs the assistance of a faerie in order to drain her and breathe life back into the dead worlds. There's a difference now, though. Because she is doing this by choice. By deciding where her magic goes, she has taken control of her own narrative. And these worlds could use a hell of a lot more help and compassion than Avangeline.) But maybe-- even if the mermaids can't hear her, they will sense her inner truth. Just as she senses theirs. And maybe it will help.

'Come to me. This burden isn't yours. Not anymore.' Juno's voice captures her attention and Lettie looks at her with something like admiration flickering in her gaze. (She's not saying them to her, obviously. She's speaking to the mermaids. But... for a moment, she almost lets herself pretend they're being spoken to her. Wouldn't that be nice? Because for as long as she can remember there's been a wounded little faerie in her who has never quite recovered, who has longed to hear those very words. That means they're the right ones-- because she can feel it touching the mermaids, too. Juno's effectively reaching out to them through this grief.) It hasn't solved anything yet, it wouldn't be that easy, but Lettie can give credit where credit is due. The pirate physically reaches out, too, and the faerie worries at her lower lip observing this. It dawns on her gradually that none of her energy is being used to help bolster the necromancer through this. 'Why isn't she relying on me?' Ugh, that Juju! Always so stubborn. She is tempted to call her back just to give her a good whack over the head... but this is too crucial a moment for it.

The mermaids varying emotions become a tug-of-war in Lettie's chest. They're starting to get kind of restless, but not so much that she feels she should worry yet. Still, the faerie uneasily shifts her gaze between Juno and the space she believes the mermaids to be as she listens to the pirate's side of the negotiations. (It's not that she believes Juno is incapable of convincing them-- it's just that the longer this goes on, the worse her hand looks. 'Don't take her from me, you fish bitches! We're trying to help, don't you see?' ...Yeah. It's probably for the best that she's not involved in the conversation right now. In spirit she has her fists up, poised to punch them all in the face.) She squeezes Juno's other hand, the one she's holding, encouraging her to take a little magic from her. But she doesn't.

Then, at last, Juno stumbles back into herself. Lettie breathes out, her shoulders visibly deflating as she does so. She softens, perhaps looking more vulnerable than she ever has before with Juno before steeling herself with a classic cheek-puff. This fucking pirate! Why does she have to go worrying her this way?

"Not so fast." Lettie motions towards Juno's poor hand. She is all pinks and reds now-- and lacking the patience to argue over this, she reaches for the pirate's forearm to tug it towards her. Being especially careful not to touch her in any sensitive spots, she draws a glyph in the air over the back of her hand. Once completed, it drops down and disappears against her skin like a raindrop of soft blue light. It'll take time to heal completely, but a little bit of color has already returned to her skin. (Faeries do have healing capabilities as well. It's not the same as outright fixing up broken bones the way that Juno did... but they are innately able to generate and revitalize natural life. It's how she healed the tears that shadowy creature left in her wings the last time they were stuck on a nightmare planet. It's how she'll be able to help restore worlds, too. Or just this one... but she's not going to dwell on that right now. This her her choice and she's confident in that.) She stares at their joined hands to avoid looking directly at Juno. "...If you're not gonna let me help you, then I'll do it myself. Because I want to. Neither of us is invincible, Juno. If you take too much of this mission on your own shoulders, the way you have been doing..." She purses her lips and shakes her head. (No matter how stupidly buff she is, she'll buckle under the weight. And she can't lose her.) "You asked the mermaids to rely on us. Us. So no matter what we face up ahead, you're gonna need to let yourself rely on me."

Lettie charges ahead then, in part to avoid looking at Juno as she pulls her along down their designated path. Glyphs flicker on the surface of their orb as they walk by, illuminating their dark path bit by bit.

"...How do you think I'd feel, anyway? Watching you exert yourself, dying down here because you're too damned stubborn to accept the help I'm trying to offer? Don't you know how helpless that'd make me feel?" Lettie's flustered reds flicker to blues again. (Shit. She's taken too much grief inside, now it's pouring out of her in a big mess. Normally she would've kept it in... but they're approaching the heart. She can feel it-- the enormity of what they're about to do. In the seconds beforehand, this might be the only chance she gets to make her point.) And she has a feeling the pirate will indeed understand where she's coming from, especially when she recalls Juno's heartbreaking anguish watching those faerie corpses pile high around her. "Don't you dare put me through that, Juno. I don't want you to die, either."

The faerie stops at the entrance of the dark, underwater chamber the path has led them to. She can hear the weak 'thump, thump, thump' of the heart resting within. The world's heart, which is barely hanging on. This is it.

"And, uh, I'm sure neither of us will, um... die. As long as we both contribute equally, it should be fine. Like you said before. The cube picked us and wouldn't give us a mission that we can't handle." Lettie reaffirms, awkward in the aftermath of saying-- admitting-- so much. This is even evidenced by those robots, telling them that they'd prefer it if neither of them died. (And considering the unsettling amount of data those robots had on them-- perhaps knowing them better than they know themselves-- their belief in the possibility of them accomplishing this mission is something that she can acknowledge.) "We're in this together. We got this."

Upon venturing inside, illuminated solely by their magical orb at this point, Lettie can make out the general shape of the colossal mer-skeleton and the giant heart pulsing weakly within her ribcage. The goddess is dead and her world is dying a slow death around her, on the verge of taking its last breath. Once again, as the necromancer, Juno will have to initiate contact with the goddess. Lettie finally finds the courage to look her in the eye again, her expression fixed into one of determination. (...At this point, she just has to hope that she reached her impossibly stubborn pirate back there. That this won't blow up in their faces.) "Here goes nothing." She gives her hand a squeeze. "...I'm ready whenever you are."

 

[starboob]

Juno can’t tell what hurts worse: her hand that feels like it’s made of needles and is trying to pop off from her wrist or Olette's disapproving cheek-puff. (She knows this one all too well.) It’s made worse by the fact that the faerie’s entire body lights up with red and pink, giving away that she’s angry with Juno. ‘So what? You don’t care about that.’ Is what she tries to tell herself, but the words are a distant echo. The pirate does care. Deeply. She hates that she does and she wishes she could turn off her heart, but she cares and she doesn’t even know what she’s done to make the faerie upset with her. Is it because she helped the mermaids? Confusion twists her features as she blinks at her, at a loss for what’s going on or what she’s even done to warrant this reaction.

When the other woman touches her, the pirate finches, pulling back, before she’s able to accept that Olette isn’t going to hurt her. Olette doesn’t hurt her. (Save for their early days of wrestling and present sparring matches.) In fact, she does something that soothes the burning sensation consuming her hand. ‘She can heal, too?’ Briefly, she wonders why the faerie hadn’t healed herself and almost gets angry with her, assuming she must’ve tricked Juno, but the thought is fleeting and she dismisses it rather quickly when she reminds herself that no one would have willingly endured the pain she suffered with that broken wing; with all those crash landings on other worlds; all the tackling; the stabbing. Her healing magic must have limits, she guesses.

She watches as the glyph spreads and glitters over her skin, partially thawing out her frozen and crushed hand. It goes from a horrific blue to a less horrific maroon color, indicating that her blood will be moving around again soon. She doesn’t test her fist just yet, as it still hurts, but she is grateful for the assist. She’d maybe say so, but Olette continues on, scolding the pirate for not accepting her help and totally misinterpreting why Juno made that choice. ‘Fuck. So it’s not about the mermaids.’

Juno chews on the inside of her lip as her companion fumes, and, eventually, she recognizes that she’s not angry with her. Anger is there, but beneath that she’s concerned. Juno can hardly believe it. “Olette,” she chokes out her name like a plea, ready to explain herself but everything disappears from her mind when––

“Don't you dare put me through that, Juno. I don't want you to die, either.”

The shock pulses through her heart, then stops it entirely. All the words she has to say wrap around her throat and make it impossible to speak. She can only limply follow the faerie after that, hardly hearing the rest of what she says as she replays those sentences over and over again until they sound funny and the words lose meaning. But the feeling remains. The knowledge that Olette cares, remains. All those times she thought the faerie might be considering her wellbeing––might be expressing care for her––all those times she was too scared to even hope for that are confirmed with those two simple sentences, seventeen syllables. Doubt might whisper to her later, but for now it’s a silenced voice.

She can’t look at Olette, not her blue, not her anything. Instead she stares pointedly at one of the glyphs that’s added itself to the orb, because if she looks at Olette… what if she’s like a dream and disappears? ‘Don’t say that to me,’ she wants to say. ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ she wants to scold. ‘Don’t care about me. I’m only going to hurt you,’ she wants to warn. 'I'm not worth it,' she wants to admit.

Instead of giving voice to any of that, however, when they’ve somehow found the goddess’s skeleton and the weak pulsing heart of the world, she steps in front of Olette, still holding her hand. Her grip is firm, strong and her gaze is stern, unwavering. It gives nothing away, but there is an intensity behind it that could be considered shocking, because it's so serious in how earnest it is. Most shocking, however, is the way she gets down on one knee and reaches up for the faerie’s cheek to cup it in her palm. (It’s like holding the sun.) On Desdemonia, this is a position used when one wants to make a sacred oath; it’s not used often or taken lightly and Juno never thought she’d take this step herself, but… This is Olette. Olette, Olette, Olette.

“I’m not going to die on you, Olette. I wouldn’t dare,” she promises. “I didn’t take from you earlier, because we don't know what it’s going to take to resurrect a planet’s heart. I can see those butterflies in your chest. I saw some go out when you cast those glyphs.

“I know I can be reckless,” that’s certainly one way of putting it, “but I won’t leave you. I can’t.” She has to make sure that Olette makes it back to her home safely––to that dorky vampire and that pretty friend of hers. She has a life outside of all of this and Juno wants to make sure that she can return to it, even if it pains her beyond measure to think about. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t even dare to mention it now. It’s too tender. “I’d only do that if it were absolutely fucking necessary to the mission or protecting you. Burning out to put some evil fish to rest? Never. Not worth it. I was gonna draw on you, really, that shit was getting fucking painful, but they made a smart fucking choice before it came to that. Honest.

“Truth is, we don’t know shit about what we’re doing and I’m not gonna waste you like you’re some fucking battery. You’re… I can’t fucking stand the thought of you turning to dust like Cerise, okay? I’m just being fucking cautious.” She has to do better than she did with James. The memory is so fresh in her head again, that she cannot help her own worry that she’ll hurt Olette. That she won’t be able to protect her. “I won’t try to do this on my own. Promise. That was never what I was planning. Like you fucking said, we’re in this together. We got this.” Once she’s sure the faerie has heard her, she rises, remaining close enough to her that their bodies are practically touching, and brushes two fingers over her eyes. Then she finishes by saying, “Only death can undo this promise, let the goddess judge how well I’ve kept my oath.”

Juno knows that what she’s just said, what Olette has just said, is going to change everything between them once this is all over. There’s no going back from here and she doesn’t quite know how to feel about it, but it’s also not what should be on her mind right now. So she brushes it away in the same moment that she turns to face the fading heart. She takes a couple steps closer to the purple, pulsing mass, until their orb is touching the surface and Juno can safely touch the muscle without risking her hand when it’s only just been partially-healed. She places her palm flat against it, feeling for whatever death signatures she can find to start the resurrection process. This is a much simpler affair than trying to convince malevolent spirits that they can rest, in part because resurrection is a basic foundation of necromancy. Nearly all necromancers can do this. The only thing that makes this tricky is that this is something divine and willing the threads of energy to listen to her takes more concentration. It takes more magic, more than she has, and while still nervous about overextending the faerie, she keeps her promise and pulls on her companion, feeling the flow between them turn more into a one way stream; intentionally, she keeps the stream to a trickle, careful to not pull too much too soon—especially before she even knows how much she’s going to need to raise this heart. She only takes more when she can feel the wisps of energy rejecting her initial tugs.

As more of Olette’s magic is transferred to herself, the easier it becomes to grasp onto the threads and pull the heart back from its dead slumber. It’s a slow process, but the low thump, thump, thump gradually becomes stronger until it’s a healthy boom that rattles their orb. The ooze that had been leaking out glows and starts to dissolve into the ocean water and the spots where the leaks had been are left with a faint bioluminescent light.

Meanwhile, the glyphs stuck to the orb start to twinkle in a steady beat, matching the pulse of the heart. Juno peaks a bit to look at the flashes, still focusing on the resurrection, then glances at the faerie to check on her butterflies. “Er, think that’s your cue, Olette,” she squeezes her hand, “You good? You still good?”

 

[ellarose]

They're standing on the edge of something, that's for sure. Whether that something is total ruin or history book legendary has yet to be seen. Lettie can hardly believe that this is where her life has led her. Living in that shitty, haunted apartment (but she loved that shitty apartment, because it was hers and not the estate's), drifting by from job to job, and hacking those expensive glyphs to attain the glamorous cosmetics and outfits she felt she needed to live her best life while she still had it. Maybe she got herself looking fine on the outside, but she realizes how that whatever she'd been doing... she hadn't been 'living her best life' in any capacity. Like there's an ugly side to these adventures, to the exhaustion and the grit and gore of them. They're not always as flowery or romantic as a story might imply. But there's an undeniable exhilaration to this life. And what they're doing now is bigger than anything she's ever envisioned for herself, trying to claw her way out of the abyss that's been calling her name for years. Facing it, she's not wearing any sort of mask. Standing here now, she's just Lettie... and she's making a choice for the benefit of others, and most importantly for herself. It doesn't involve any curses or demonic contracts. There's no absence of free will. The second they learned the mission, first thing Juno did was her the option to back out and go home. That's how she knows-- and knows quite well-- that things between them at least are going to be fine.

"Ju--" Lettie starts to ask as Juno steps in front of her, obscuring her view of the heart before them. (Damn. She is so tall. She's really grown a lot since they were kids. Wait...) The rest of her name disappears on her lips when the looks into her eyes... those intense eyes that gradually lower until she has to tip her chin downward to maintain that gaze while the pirate kneels before her. (She has to run that sentence through her thoughts a few times before she can properly compute it. Juno is kneeling? Why is she kneeling?) Flummoxed, she can really only stare to convince herself that this is indeed what's happening right now. Then she's reaching for her face. The faerie doesn't move an inch-- not to flinch away, nor to push her off. She's rooted in place by shock, that's definitely part of it... but she doesn't believe the pirate would go out of her way to hurt her, either. Not anymore. (Not since she severed ties with the Duchess to keep her safe. Exerted herself to her limits just to heal her broken bones.) And she wouldn't have just said everything she just said, encouraging-- practically begging-- Juno to rely on her before they do this if she were worried for herself right now. In that case, they'd be having the opposite problem with the pirate taking too much from her. Lettie knows a power trip when she sees it (when she feels it) and Juno most certainly isn't on one. She's proven that to her without having to speak a single word, because her actions have always spoken for her. They always have, every time she bulldozed past her attempts at negotiations to face-punch anyone who stood in her way. But time and time again, she's proven that she's more than the 'homicidal pirate' that Lettie initially labeled her as. There was always more beneath the surface level, yes, but she's also changed since that first night. Just now, even... she successfully talked things through with the mermaids. A feat the Juno she knew back then would have never attempted. There's no denying that they've grown into the roles they're being expected to play now. (But there might've been something in them inclined towards doing good from the very beginning, had the world not...)

There's all of that. It exists as the truth that she knows even as the thoughts themselves trickle away one by one like petals in a storm because the palm of Juno's hand is warm against her face. Or is it Lettie's face that's warm right now? Oh stars, it probably is. It has to be bright pink right now. (It is.) Her heart thumps a rhythm in her chest that the manic butterflies are dancing to. The kneeling, the soft caress, the meaningful gaze... of course it automatically makes the faerie think of a proposal and she doesn't have a fucking clue what she's going to do if the Captain Juno proposes to her. Of all the outcomes in the worlds, she did not see this one coming. (Juno and me? Past Lettie might've been fucking pissed that she's doing it in a moment when she looks like a complete wreck, with her white hair and nightmare eyes... in the moment, though, she doesn't think about any of that. Just about how she's feeling in the moment. Me and Juno? Because what if? What will she say if she does? There's an impulsive notion in her, fueled purely by adrenaline (...and the disaster gay in her) that leans towards saying yes if that is the case. She likes shiny things but she thinks she'd accept a paper ring if it meant it came from Juno. If it meant she could stay on Lady officially. (Wouldn't it be nice, if that somehow broke her curse? A stupidly spontaneous wedding, like the end of one of those fairytale stories that always had happy endings? Promising her life to Juno on some other world and living on Lady forever... could that be enough to break it? She's not sure. This has never really been done before. Would Cerise have married the grandma Duchess, if it could've freed her?) Another knows she can't go promising her life to anyone when it's barely her own to promise. That wouldn't be fair to Juno. Um. And then... Hold the phone. Hold the fucking phone. You're thinking marriage, Letts, and everything that marriage entails!

Fuck. Normally Lettie would've supplied quips and arguments to try and distract herself, to try and make this feel more like them. To remind her of where they're at with each other. But she's still speechless. 'I'm not going to die on you, Olette.' She vows. (Agh, but she doesn't know that. Juno isn't immortal! Everyone has limits and if she pushes herself too far...) then the pirate goes on, explaining her reasoning. She's never been one for storytelling, for explaining herself with so many words, but she's putting them into words now. For her sake. They could've sunk right into the mission, but Juno made the choice to get this off her chest first... for her sake.

'I won't leave you.' Lettie's heart is in her throat. 'Not gonna waste you like you're some fucking battery.' It clogs it up with a racing pulse, keeping her from saying anything in reply. She shouldn't. She can't interrupt Juno now that she's gotten started. When she's still looking at her like that. 'Can't fucking stand the thought of you turning to dust.' (Like Cerise. Has this been on her mind since...? The imagery of her dead bodies piling up on deck flashes through her mind again, like it's the answer to her question.) 'I won’t try to do this on my own. Promise. That was never what I was planning. Like you fucking said, we’re in this together. We got this.'

Then Juno seals everything she's just said as an oath and it becomes apparent that, no, of course this is not a marriage proposal. (Even if some of the words were beginning to convince her that might just be where the pirate was headed.) Lettie breathes out slowly, shakily. (Is it relief? Well, of course it's relief! Is it? And of course Juno wouldn't be proposing to her right now! The fact that she even considered it is laughable. 'Vain faerie' isn't even her type. The pirate admitted as much the night they met. Pfft. Get real, Letts. You've seen one too many romantic movies. That's all. Ha! She... really ought to laugh at herself for this.) ...Proposal or not, that doesn't deprive Juno's words of their meaning. She didn't have to promise all of that. She did it anyway on her behalf. The faerie's white eyes flicker, revealing that she's thinking deeply about this just as transparently as the butterflies fluttering in her chest implies that she's feeling it.

There is a lot to unpack about this. 'Did she just admit that she'd die to protect me?' The scale of that admission is... unfathomable. All Lettie can do is wonder whether or not they're in too deep now. (Well, she's always been in too deep. Now she's going to drag Juno down with her. Because if she stakes this much care on her safety already...) And the worst part is that she can't even warn her she's making a huge mistake by allowing herself to care so damned much about the safety of a faerie who is marked. Fuck.

Deep breath, Letts. Take it one step at a time. Lettie pushes it all down, knowing that they have a mission to do. A mission that is bigger than the both of them right now. She can set it all aside, leave it for her future self to worry about. They both seem to be in agreement about this, saying nothing more on the subject as they turn to face the heart. Juno starts them off and Lettie doesn't feel the pull-- not right away. (Even with everything that's just been promised, there's still a tug of worry in her chest that Juno will venture too far on her own... but before these tugs of worry can strengthen to a yank of panic, she feels her magic being tugged at instead. Juno is relying on her now, just like she said she would.) Squeezing her hand to offer encouragement (and thanks), she closes her eyes and opens herself to it. The pounding of the world's heart gradually even rises to a volume that exceeds her own, which indicates to her that they must be doing something right. It bolsters her with an energy so tangible it radiates off her flickering, glitching skin in sparks.

Lettie opens her eyes again when Juno tells her it's her cue. Noticing the glyphs activating all around them, she offers a confident nod. "I'm good." Focusing on them, she absorbs some of the light the sources offer and becomes a force of pure magic. (More magic than faerie, really, when her form is so phantasmic.) It travels through her veins, gives her a rush. While this state is temporary, it provides her with endless opportunities as long as she uses her time wisely. One by one, she draws the glyphs in front of her to activate them.

The first grants them light. The second clears the water of any remnants of that purplish nightmare ick. The third accompanies a heartbeat that begins to vibrate the grains of sand they stand on, as colors flood the once empty cavern with flourishing aquatic plants-- swaying seagrass, forests of kelp, scroll algae and patches of glowing coral. (Lettie cannot say for sure if this is happening around them in real time-- because it's all moving much too fast, beyond anything she's capable of. Maybe they're getting glimpses of the future in store for this world with these glyphs engraving themselves in their world's heart?) The heart pumps faster and louder and the changes become more drastic. The next few glyphs give life to schools of fish, then a few passing mermaids, and then finally the goddess herself. (For a mermaid, she looks serene and levelheaded. Her dark, curly hair floats like an expansive night sky around her head.) She gently takes their orb in her gigantic hands when Lettie finishes drawing the final glyph, smiles at them, and then...

Whoosh. Everything goes dark again and they're blown backward by some unseen force. Lettie feels her connection snap and clenches Juno's hand tightly. What happened? Did we-- did we fuck it up?

Coming to, Lettie finds she's not on top of Juno this time. They're lying side by side, their fingers still interlocked. She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes with her free hand before peering ahead to see what happened. Her heart drops when she sees a sculpture of the goddess they saw just seconds before resting before them... curiously, she's in the same pose they saw her in. But instead of holding them in their orb, she holds the heart of the world in the palm of her hand instead. Is this right after all? It glows brightly, surrounded by a protective chain of all the glyphs she just cast. Then they whirl in a circle, before combining and shining a colossal glyph at them.

"This must be it..." Lettie breathes. Well, duh. Could it make itself any more obvious at this point? (It's about as subtle as that fireworks show spelling out her name for Juno. Pfft.) She's running low on magic, if the two remaining butterflies in her chest is any indicator, but she's got to have enough to see this through. They've come this far. "Okay. Okay, just a little more. I'm still good. We got this."

Lettie brings herself to stand and shuts her eyes tightly. The glyph was so bright that it's engraved in blazing, white-hot light through her eyelids. She squeezes Juno's hand once more as she begins to trace it with large, sweeping arcs of her arm. There. The faerie opens her eyes to peek and see what it does from there.

The glyph then shrinks down and becomes... the cube? It wears the glyph she just traced like a badge on the side that's facing them. Then, gradually, the shape grows outward. Then it morphs, taking on a physical form of its own. Before long it shapes itself into none other than another fucking cube. Now two cubes now float before them. Um. What. No, actually, to quote a certain pirate-- what the fuck!?

"Juno..." Lettie wheezes out, completely mystified. This is too fucking much. She squints at the two cubes before turning her head to look at Juno to see if she also thinks this is batshit. She's got to, right? Because what they just saw-- "Juno. Did cubey just give birth!?"

Blip!

 

[starboob]

Worry is written over the pirate’s brow. There’s nothing she can do to protect Olette. Even if that had been her oath only minutes ago, this is officially out of her control. (She hates it. She can’t breathe.) She counts the butterflies in the faerie’s chest, counting each one down like it’s her own life at stake. (It is. What the fuck is she going to do without Olette? Months ago she wanted her dead; wished she had thrown her over the side of Lady’s railing; she thought the faerie was the worst thing to ever happen to her; but then, without her permission or knowledge, her heart started to change. Her feelings towards Olette morphed from hatred to genuine care. Maybe it happened when their souls were laid bare; when they saw more than they were supposed to and she realized that the faerie is a person. Their worlds are the difference between night and day and yet she saw some of herself in those glimpses she was never supposed to see––the ones she has pretended she never saw. She supposes it doesn’t matter when this change occurred, because it’s not like Juno is truly looking to go back. Maybe, weeks ago, if she knew of some magic fix to turn off her heart, she would jump for the switch, but as it is? If presented with that magic switch, she wouldn’t do anything. It’s this care in her heart that’s going to protect Olette, at least where she’s able to.) It fucking pains her that she can’t do anything now. That she has to trust that asshole of a cube that this mission won’t kill her faerie; maybe she does have a sneaking fear that the cube will burn her up and replace her with some other faerie. Clearly, other faeries exist but Juno doesn’t want another faerie. She wants Olette. Only Olette. Should she die, she’ll let the worlds burn. (Okay, no… If it’s important to Olette that Cerise is remembered, then she’ll continue without her. But she won’t be the same necromancer knowing each faerie who is paired with her is doomed to be ash and dust. Even then, she’ll still commit each faerie’s name to memory so that none are forgotten regardless of whatever flower they leave behind. She thinks that Olette would want that.)

Juno tenses, preparing for the worst as two butterflies remain in her chest. She squeezes her hand and commits to the memory the shape and feel of her small hand in hers. ‘Please, please don’t do this.’ But she doesn’t say that, because to speak that would be to betray that she trusts Olette and, as terrifying as it is, she trusts her. She has to. She’s all she has.

Still, the pirate closes her eyes as the faerie draws the final glyph, worried her sparking, glitching skin is an omen, a precursor to her burning up. She doesn’t actually open her eyes until Olette says her name and, rather than look over at whatever’s capturing her attention, she just stares at her companion instead. ‘She did it. Of course.’ When she’s fully convinced that the faerie is not going to become a handful of dust, she looks over at the glyph––or what should have been a glyph (honestly, Juno missed a lot of the prior changes, being so consumed with her worry and pre-gaming agony). Instead she only sees two cubes in the statue’s outstretched hand. “What the fuck? I thought QB was a boooy––”

blip!

The world swirls around them in purifying white light, burning through to the backs of Juno’s eyes (as per usual) but she doesn’t find herself so annoyed this time, knowing that it means they’re most likely done with that nightmare planet. Not that that means that they're safe. Knowing that asshole cube (and now there are possibly two assholes ruling their future), they might end up in the literal jaws of an upset beast.

But, no. When they land, there’s a soft cushion under Juno and Olette soon follows, landing directly on top of her. She doesn’t push her off, she rarely does these days, and instead goes to rub the flash away from her eyes so that she can see where they are. The air around them is suspiciously calm and the world, quiet––this does make Juno think there is an imminent danger to come, but when she blinks her eyes open, she finds first that they are in her study; then when she peers out the large circular window at the opposite end of the room, she notes that they’re back at that weird starry world, the one that used to be metallic. The two assholes are nowhere to be seen and when Juno continues looking around the mess of her study, she notes that she’s not landed on some large pillow but a couch? A pink velvet couch, at that. ‘Oh for the love of––’

Marjorie, with her usual air of nonchalance, waltzes into the room with a tray piled with white, soft looking cylinders (marshmallows), two steaming mugs, and a tall kettle. She sets the tray down on the desk, carelessly shoving away some of Juno’s illegible notes and beams over at the two. “Oh my, aren’t you two just so adorable! You are going to give all of my bones cavities from how sweet you're being.”

“Marjo––”

“The maestro and the magistrate,” the skeleton prattles on, happily ignoring the captain’s obvious annoyance. “Applaud your efforts! The magistrate still needs some time to fully recover, but my oh my are you two on your way. How splendid. Anywho, they have pooled together their resources and have gifted Ms. Olette this lovely couch, to go with her chair, and you, captain, will find your reward tucked away in your room. It’s for your, ah, secret hobby.” She winks (somehow), making the hobby (cooking) sound far more suggestive than it actually is.

Juno silently debates the pros and cons of ashing the skeleton and, as always, decides against it. (The captain is too fond of her, even if she won’t admit it.)

“You two be good. Don’t cause too much trouble and try to rest. The maestro has informed Abigail who informed Philip who informed Inez who informed me to tell you that you have roughly thirty-seven hours and forty-two minutes to recuperate. Ciao!” The skeleton wiggles her fingers under her chin by way of waving and leaves the pair alone. Somehow, shutting the door behind her feels suggestive.

“What the fuck did she just call us?” No, the pirate still doesn’t know whatever language that is. (She is still convinced that Olette once insulted her by calling her a “capiche.”) She scowls at the door, as if that might silently communicate a, “Fuck you,” to Marjorie (who would not care). Satisfied, she turns to look at Olette, her gaze softening. She thinks to touch her shoulder, push her white locks from her face, tip up her chin to get a good look at her and ultimately hesitates, then chooses to do nothing. She’s already been weird enough today and she’s not even sure how much of this she can blame on exhaustion. (Did she really make a sacred oath? Fuck.) “Are you okay? I-I didn’t take too much did I?”

Feeling uncomfortable with being so close to Olette, the pirate sits up, finally, and goes over to the desk to inspect the tray. Both mugs are metallic and one is shaped like a skull and the other is shaped like a tree stump with a few three-dimensional butterflies on it. It’s obvious whose mug is whose. Juno takes the one with the butterflies on it and picks up one of the cylinders. She confirms that it’s soft and immediately squishes it until it flattens and starts to split apart. It’s sticky, too, she notes. She sets it down on the tray, deciding not to try it just yet (she wants to see what Olette does) and then sniffs the molten brown beverage in her mug (the one that reminds her of the faerie, duh). The scent is familiar and reminds her of that edible currency from the candy world, so she has no qualms about accepting this; though she doesn’t drink just yet as she doesn’t want to risk hurting her most important muscle.

She blows on the steaming liquid and then cautiously takes a sip, feeling the zing of flavor light up her tongue. It's definitely similar to that candy currency and helps her relax some, but it won't be long before memories from earlier come flooding back to her. And she doesn't really want to be dwelling on all that. Not now, not ever. So she reaches into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulls out the brown liquor she keeps stored there. First she takes a long pull, then she dumps an unknown quantity into her mug––enough that it cools the beverage down and the alcohol's smell overpowers the sweet stuff. Satisfied, she settles back onto the couch and sips at her drink, then gestures to the desk. "Help yourself. I need something to make me forget all that fuckin' nonsense." Well, maybe not all of it. Feeling like she knew Olette since she was a kid was nice, she'll admit, but maybe she does want to forget that, because it's not real. And she desperately wishes it had been, for some reason.

 

[ellarose]

And with the image of cubey straight up multiplying emblazoned in her head, they're swept out from the bottom of the ocean and dropped somewhere else. (So that's it, then? They did everything they needed to do?) Lettie lands on Juno, just as she has so many times before, and she doesn't open her eyes right away. She's spent and isn't sure if she wants to see what cubey has in store for them next. She swears, if they're in some monster's den on Desdemonia she's going to-- ugh, put up with it, she guesses. Because that's what she's had to do to get this far. Doesn't mean that she'll like it, though. Her days of playing dumb and filing her nails in the corner are long gone. The fact that Juno isn't reacting by shoving her off-- at the very least not to dive into any kind of fight-- tells her that there's nothing to worry about in their immediate future. So she keeps her closed and sinks gently against her with an exhale. (It's like hitting the snooze button on her usual instincts to get off of the pirate. Five more minutes.) From this point forward, all of her coherent thoughts are gradually replaced with 'abs'. (Abs that those fish bitches will not be doing shots off of because they're occupied, thank you very much. Heh. The faerie hums softly with that triumphant, mischievous little thought.) As long as the pirate's not inclined to shove her off, she's content to stay here for as long as--

Then Marjorie calls them adorable and Lettie puckers her lips, feeling she's been caught, and finally gives their surroundings a peek. We're not alone. They're in Juno's study. Begrudgingly, she peels herself off of Juno and flops over to the side, expecting the familiar embrace of the floor only to instead land on the... pink velvet couch? Her pink velvet couch? Sweet! The skeleton proceeds to mention something about the pirate's 'secret hobby'. Huh? "Secret hobby?" The faerie mouthes noiselessly to Marjorie, eager for a bit of gossip. Lettie's eyebrows lift as neither Juno or the skeleton offer any more clues as to what this 'secret hobby' is before the practicalities of how much time they'll have to rest are laid out. The skeleton excuses herself so quickly that there is no room for follow up questions. (Did she do that on purpose? The way she shuts the door seems to imply...) Now she is left to wonder about the secret hobby and the implications... ah, fill her head with some interesting images, to say the least. The faerie's cheeks turn pink. (Without the magic swirling around her, thankfully this means that only her cheeks turn pink.) She's too preoccupied with her thoughts to inform Juno that the word 'ciao' is not, in fact, an insult.

Lettie fixes her posture up a bit, as if her thoughts are plainly on display based on just that when Juno turns to her. 'I'm totally not thinking any suggestive thoughts about you or your secret hobby, Juju. What are you talking about!?' She only manages to meet her gaze when the pirate softens and asks her if she's all right. (This is gradually becoming their new normal, but every time still feels like the first time with the way it sends her heart into a frenzy. She actually gives a shit about me.) She softens a bit in turn. "Mhm, I'm okay." With a sigh, she drops and drapes herself silkily across (her!) couch like a cute throw blanket, unleashing a little groan. (The faerie is so short that the entire length of her body does not take up the whole couch, leaving a conveniently Juno-sized space.) In the theatric pose she's in, she manages to hide half of her face in the crook of her arm. "...Still okay, mind you. Just peachy. A bit tired. Sometimes a situation calls for some dramatic lounging is all." (Oh, stars. What is she even saying anymore?) "You should try it sometime."

Watching Juno approach the tray that Marjorie left for them, Lettie allows her gaze to linger when she knows she won't get caught staring. (She seems to be okay, too. She's on her feet after all. But she could still use some proper rest while they have the opportunity.) The pirate's attention is focused pretty firmly on the marshmallow. 'What's on her mind? Is she reflecting on everything that just...' Juno proceeds to crush the marshmallow for no apparent reason before setting it back down on the tray. Um. What? Lettie bites into her cheek to keep herself from smiling. Pffft. That's so like Juno. Normally she might have raised a fuss about how it's impolite to touch food only to put it back like that, but she doesn't have the energy for it. It's fine. It's just them, anyway. Lazily, she lets all of her thoughts go as she preoccupies herself with simply watching Juno-- blowing on her drink, tasting it, and then proceeding to mix it with liquor from her cabinet. (Everything she does looks so cute, for some reason. Maybe it's the butterfly mug.) She perks up when the pirate offers some to her.

"...Juno, you're a fucking genius. Dramatic lounging and alcohol are an impeccable combination." Lettie nods approvingly and shapes an 'ok' symbol with her fingers as she pushes herself up onto her feet. (As much as she wants to continue lounging, she's only getting up now because there's alcohol involved.) Everything they just went through wasn't nonsense... and yet somehow, the absurd amount that they went through contributes to exactly what makes it nonsense. It was too much and she finds herself agreeing with Juno here. They need something to take the edge off, stat. Taking the skull mug (and secretly smiling to herself, remembering that Juno willingly took the one with the butterflies) she fixes her own drink up with a suitable amount of liquor before plunking the uncrushed marshmallow inside. Unlike Juno, she's too eager to let it cool down and takes a sip that burns her mouth. "Ow. Shit." She takes another little sip regardless, sighing. "Shit." The second curse sounds more pleased than irritated. Mm, cocoa. It's been so long. Too long. She considered ordering some at the diner, but opted for the milkshake instead. (It was decorated with cute plastic spiders... so how could she not? It was a perfectly reasonable choice.)

The faerie returns to the couch, deciding to sit upright this time with the warm drink between her hands. (Normally she might have used a glyph to keep her drink steady and within reach in order to lounge... but she doesn't even have the magic to give herself a decent outfit right now. Who knows what kind of view her lounging will give Juno when she's only wearing this night shirt? She already lounged, she realizes a second too late, and blushes at the idea that she might have already been careless in this regard.) "The couch is nice and all..." Lettie frowns and tugs at the shirt's collar with her free hand. "But cubey really should've got me more clothes. Especially if I'm gonna have to start dropping my glamours all the time." She knows she will from this point onward. As light as she's treating this right now, there's a very real possibility that she would've been vaporized into faerie dust back there if she'd kept her glamours intact. The faerie will do what she has to do, of course, but... "I don't suppose you have any hair dye on board?" Probably not. If Juno had some aboard Lady, Lettie probably would have found it by then. Now she's touching her hair, pouting her lips. "I never wanted to resort to that, all the chemicals and shit, but... desperate times, you know?"

Lettie takes a long sip of her drink. The alcohol still hasn't hit her yet, so she takes another. Then another one.

"Never mind. I sound like an idiot. It doesn't matter." Lettie breathes out a self-deprecating laugh. It really doesn't. Compared to the scale of... all of this, what are a little faerie's insecurities? "At least those gold fucking stars disappeared. They were ugly as sin. Cubey has no fashion sense." (Probably because it is a cube and doesn't need to wear clothes.) The liquor is starting to hit her now-- thank the stars above-- and she decides it's fine time for a change of subject! She pokes her elbow into Juno's side instead, grinning a touch more playfully now. "Hey, hey. You gonna tell me about your secret hobby?" Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she gathers herself up onto her knees to sit taller, swiveling sideways to face the pirate and point imperiously at her nose. "I'm letting you sit on my couch, so you gotta answer my question! That's the rules, Juju."

 

[starboob]

There’s a faerie shaped spot of warmth missing from Juno’s chest. She’s trying not to think about it, but it’s lingering in the back of her mind as she sips on the beverage that she decides she likes––but maybe that’s just because of the dash (copious amount) of alcohol she poured into her mug before settling down on Olette’s pink velvet couch. Still, no matter how warm the drink (alcohol) makes her, it doesn’t get rid of the imprint her companion left. ‘Would it be weird to…’ She doesn’t even allow herself to finish that thought before deciding that, yes, it would be very weird to ask Olette if she’d like to lay on her chest. It would be extremely fucking weird to explain that it had been comforting or to even admit that when they almost fell asleep like that earlier she hadn’t been scared of her dreams. Nope, she's not fucking going there.

She stares into her mug, her cheeks a pleasant shade of pink and definitely not because of her thoughts. It’s the alcohol (no), it’s totally the alcohol (it’s not). She looks up briefly to watch the faerie place a cylinder in her mug and tilts her head to the side. “Oh.” She blinks and leans over to reach for the crushed one (tall as she is, she really only has to lean over from her seat to grab it) and gives it another sniff; then she tentatively sticks her tongue out to confirm that it’s not made of acid, recalling that Olette likes acid for some bizarre reason. (Maybe it has something to do with her faerie powers?) Confirming that it’s sweet, she schloops the squishy cloud into her mouth and then reaches for another one that is sitting on the tray to plop into her mug. She likes these cylinders.

As she chews on one, she bobs her head, listening to the faerie talk about clothes and hair dye. “You can have some of my stuff." Immediately, her cheeks redden when she realizes what her mouth has just said (because obviously Juno didn’t say it, just her mouth), and she doesn’t take it back. In fact, her mouth keeps talking. “I know it'll be big, but it’s at least a start? I think Marjorie’s got a sewing kit somewhere on board––she’s always mending shit without my permission.” Though she sounds annoyed, the pirate is grateful for that, she just doesn’t know how to properly express that sentiment without a shield of irritation. Then, without prompting, she sets her mug on the floor and shrugs off her coat and outer shirt, gently draping them across the faerie’s bare legs. This leaves her in what had been a black t-shirt, but at some point it seems she cut off the sleeves. (She doesn’t remember doing this, but she doesn’t question it either. She probably did this herself at some point.) She picks the mug back up and pretends she hasn’t just give Olette the literal clothes off her back.

And since she obviously hasn't just done something very weird, she continues on like nothing has happened. “I think white’s a nice color on you. I mean,” she takes another large gulp of her drink to distract herself, “any color looks good on you.” She doesn’t remember insulting the faerie’s green hair choice, but if she did, she’d probably rescind the statement because she can't imagine Olette Lycanthropy-ata looking awful under any circumstance. Besides, Juno probably only said that to get under her skin, having figured out her vanity. “Not that I think you care what I think,” she clarifies, taking another swig. “Just, like, saying it to say it. To put it out there.” ‘Shut up, shut up, shut up!’ She does not, in fact, shut up. She continues on to say, “Anyone would have to be fucking lying if they said you don't look good.” Even if that is objectively true, it doesn’t mean she has to be the one to say it! As if her opinion matters. Like, sure they have agreed that they don’t want each other to die but that doesn’t automatically mean they need to be spilling every little thought they have about each other! For fuck’s sake, what has gotten into her? (Alcohol and sleep deprivation.)

At least she doesn’t need to think about that much longer when Olette brings up her secret hobby and the toll for sitting on her pink couch. Juno thinks to point out the fact that she’s pretty much been using up all of her supplies since day one––mechanic or not, she’s running a high fucking tab––but thinks better of it, not wanting to make it seem as though she’s not welcome on Lady. She very much is and if the captain had any sense that the faerie wants to stay or that she might even consider it, she’d offer in a heartbeat. Easy. She downs the rest of her hot brown stuff and then fills her mug a quarter full of liquor; she even adds in some cylinders since she saw Olette do it and has deduced that they are for beverages, like ice cubes.

“My secret hobby...” she drawls out, feeling the tension unknot from her shoulders as the alcohol catches up to her all at once. “Is a fucking hobby that’s a secret. It’s a hobby of secrets. Secret hobby. Hobby secrets, you know how it is. I only do it when I know you’re not around.” Then she slides off of the couch and onto the floor. “Now I don’t owe you shit,” she grins, dropping her head back onto the seat cushion and looking up and over at Olette through a drunken gaze. Her lips, incidentally, are quite close to her knee and the idle thought that she could kiss it comes to mind. She almost acts on the urge, but then reminds herself that they aren’t girlfriends. They just pretended once and it felt nice, she guesses. But they aren’t even close, no matter how it felt earlier. She barely knows Olette when she thinks about it—though she supposes that if her life were broken into two pieces, a before the cube and after, then she has known the faerie for the entirety of after. In that, she sorta has known Olette her entire life.

She continues to look up at the faerie and then narrows her gaze. “I think I woulda remembered knowing someone so sparkly my entire life. It’d be hard to forget a face like yours.” Later she might feel embarrassed about what she’s saying, but for now it feels like the most natural thing in the world to flirt with Olette. “Powerful faerie like you as a–a friend, I never woulda had any trouble growing up. Say, are we friends?” She can’t figure that out and it kills her to not know. “I-I wouldn’t mind being friends.” She doesn’t dare think about what it’d mean to admit she might want more, but this feels like an appropriate level for them to be at. “If we’re friends, I’ll punch anyone in the face who says you’re too sparkly. Or too anything. Nah, anyone who messes with you gets a date with my fists. Pow-pow.” She punches the air, effectively sloshing the last bit of her drink all over herself, but she doesn’t seem to mind or notice. “I almost punted that kid who pulled your wing on that weird candy obsessed planet. Woulda sent him to the moon, the little idiot. It’s not hard to know you don’t touch a lady’s wing. You told me that, you know. 'Member?”

“S-sorry for that, by the way. I was a fucking asshole before we were friends. But had we been friends as kids, I woulda kicked that long chicken’s ass.” She means the goose. “Then I woulda kicked that little demon’s ass, too. Yeah, she was pure evil. See, that’s why I think we should be friends. I can help you kick asses and shit. I mean, you’re already a beast but sometimes it’s nice knowing you got someone else to kick ass for you.” She rubs the back of her neck thoughtfully and closes one eye shut as she stares at a spider skittering around on the ceiling. (If that fucker gets too close, she’s squishing it. Spiders do not belong anywhere fucking near her. Especially not on her fucking face. Fuck face spiders specifically.) “You’re cool, Olette. I didn’t think so before. I thought you were a little skyward raver with your raver magic. Also I’ve decided that if we ever die, and that's a major fucking if, then we have to die at the exact same time. Promise me.” She then flips around rather suddenly, getting up, and puts her hands on either side of Olette so that she's leaning over her and staring down at her. “I've also decided that you owe me a question. For denting my ship––you still haven’t fixed that, so I get a question to make up for it. When’d you learn how to fix ships? And what’s glyph hacking ‘bout? I ‘member that weird teacher I never saw saying something about it.” By that she's trying to reference the first nightmare planet they ever visited without trying to call too much attention to the fact that she saw shit she wasn't supposed to see. She obviously didn't see anything. (Also, damn, have Olette’s eyes always been this pretty? It’s like staring into two peaceful pools, like an oasis or something. Damn, damn, damn.)

 

[ellarose]

Excitedly, Lettie sits up taller and her eyes sparkle like stars when Juno begins to breach the subject of her 'secret hobby'. The faerie bounces hyperactively in time with the chorus of 'what is it, what is it, what is it' in her head... only for those stars in her eyes to crash and burn into nothing more than dust when the pirate starts to give her a total non-answer with a load of nonsense about secret hobby-hobby secrets before sliding off her couch and onto the floor with that cheeky grin. The faerie's cheeks briefly fill with air before she puffs it all out with a twisty little pout. No fair! "Aw, boo. C'mon Juju!" She downs the rest of her drink in one go, setting the mug on the floor before dramatically draping herself across her couch like the wounded, fair maiden she is. "I just wanna learn more about you! Is that really sush a crime?" She slurs innocuously, throwing her arms out. Then she distractedly raises one of her legs in the air (for a moment forgetting Juno that rested her jacket there to cover her up) and said jacket falls on her face with an unceremonious plop. Oof. Where'd that come from? "I'm a nice faerie. I wouldn't judge." Her voice comes out muffled through the fabric. It's fucking true, too! There is evidence to support her statement, considering her only other close friend is that vampire wannabe Ravan. A total dork. And she loves him anyway. (Juno has never met Ravan. And yet at the same time she totally has. She knows!) Lettie gathers the jacket (it smells like Juno) into her arms like she's hugging it and sits herself upright again to peer down at her. Then she grins playfully and pinches her fingers as if she's holding something very small between them. "Well, okay. Maybe I'd laugh a little bit? Maybe. Depends on what the secret hobby slash hobby secret is. But I won't hate. I swear it. Unless it involves mermaids. Those fucking fish bitches..."

Ugh. Like that one that more or less called Lettie a creep back there. Green and ghoulish. But Juno said she likes every color on her. (Except for green, because it resembles snot. Even if the shade she went for was earthier than that-- she put those flowers in her braids to pull the look together and everything-- she still doesn't want to risk anyone thinking of snot when they look at her. Gross!) It... doesn't sound like the pirate's lying when she tells her these things, either. (What possessed her to say any of that in the first place? Why?) The faerie grips the jacket tighter. 'Anyone would have to be fucking lying if they said you don't look good.' Little does Juno know, she is calling a ton of people a liar by saying that. (Including her, sometimes.) But she put that thought out there, to put it out there, and the faerie cares more than Juno seems to think she cares. Juno's opinion means more than many of the people who she would be implicating as liars in this scenario. And the biggest liar of them all, well... she's not even around anymore.

Lettie beams and theatrically frames her face in her hands like the masterpiece it is when Juno goes on to compliment her sparkly, memorable face. (Yeah, she goes from zero to a hundred real quick. What of it?) It's time to snap out of this funk and act like herself again! Funk is so not her genre. Then the pirate proceeds to call her powerful and the faerie is about to ask if she's trying to distract her from the secret hobby with these compliments (because it's totally working) until she actually succeeds in distracting her from it by asking if they're friends. That's a question. (It sure is, Letts, it sure is.) A question that seems to have a fairly simple answer when posed to her with alcohol in her system.

"It's nice to have friends. We can be friends." Lettie nods her head knowingly, like she's an expert on this subject. If Juno wants to be friends then it's pretty simple from there, because of course the faerie wants to be friends. It seems like the most natural thing in the world after everything they went through. After being childhood friends (in another life that might not have been real) and then everything else, too. In a way, it really is as simple and innocent as two kids deciding to be friends on the playground. "But my closest friends call me Lettie. It's my nickname. Like Juju is your nickname. So you gots to remember that." She taps her temple.

"Wow-wow." Lettie says after Juno does her 'pow-pows', holding her cheeks in the palms of her hands as she gazes at the pirate and snorts into a little fit of good natured giggles. (Juno is so funny. And cute. Who could've known that the pirate could be so funny and cute?) She's used to guys and gals at bars who talk themselves up around her, going over all the ways that they'd help her out of a bind... but all of that bravado felt like it was just there to get the satisfaction of her swooning over them with her fake goo-goo eyes, stroking their egos. It's different here. When Juno says she'll punch someone in the face to defend her sparkly-ness, she believes her. (Because she's owned up to this with actions by defending her in the past. Punching that shadow creep before it could so much as scrape her with that freaky claw.) "Well, it's a good thing you didn't send him to the moon. He's just a little kid, so he gets a pass... just has to learn some manners is all. Don't go punting children to the moon for me, Juju. Just inform them politely..." Lettie furrows her brow and does her best Juno impression. "'You don't fucking touch a lady's wings!' Like that." She smiles brightly. "Pretty good, right? See, that's you being polite, because I only said fuck once."

Lettie's grinning lips purse thoughtfully when Juno goes on to apologize. She listens silently, then, only quietly supplying a "Goose." when the pirate mentions the 'long chicken' comment. (She's not sure which she hates most. Geese or mermaids. Once the faerie might have included Juno in this lineup-- but now, she doesn't exist even remotely near that same category in her mind. Things are different now. Instead of threatening to punch her, she's threatening to punch anyone (including children) for her.) "We're a team, so we can kick ass together. Like... like a gang! If we include the skellies, we could totally be a gang. Have you ever wanted to be in a gang, Juno? I could make us matching jackets and everything." She looks down at Juno's jacket in her lap, already envisioning all the ways that she might bedazzle it. The faerie snorts again when Juno calls her cool, giving her bicep a harmless little smack. She leaves her hand there for a moment longer, because... muscle. "You're cool, Juju. I mean, have you seen how buff you are? And you can heal bones, too. You're, like, the coolest person I know."

Lettie falls completely silent when Juno gets up and leans over her. Her heart pounds as she imagines the pirate closing the distance, pressing so close that she can feel the heat off of her, maybe bringing her lips down to her earlobe (does Juno think pointy ears are weird?), then maybe her neck before traveling lower... her cheeks burn a brighter pink in time with her rampant fantasies. They only truly halt when she processes what the pirate said just then.

"Also I’ve decided that if we ever die, and that's a major fucking if, then we have to die at the exact same time. Promise me." The faerie swallows hard. (That's not something she can promise.) She flaps one of the sleeves of Juno's coat towards her playfully, trying to bounce back with a teasing smile. "Geez! Don't be so morbid, Juno. As long as we're smart about all this, we're not gonna die." She brings her lips to the side skeptically, then. "That's two questions. And you didn't even answer mine about your secret hobby, hobby secret." Come to think of it, Juno never would have asked her questions about her life before. The fact that she's showing an interest now is... kinda nice. As long as they don't brush against anything that's going to fucking leash her, that is.

"Fixing ships was my secret hobby for a while. I got into it after I found this old abandoned ship in the Star Grove. No one else knew about it but me... and I dunno. It was pretty dope and I thought it'd be fun to fix it up. I was a kid then, y'know, and why does a kid do anything?" Lettie shrugs. (To escape.) It's basically the truth. The innocent part of the truth. The naive and hopeful beginning. She can't dive too deep into it, though, because the risk of striking something she's not supposed to strike is there. Delving that deep means unpacking a bunch of shit she doesn't want to talk about, anyway. Whatever. What she's given should probably suffice. "I was already into working on motorcycles at that point. It was an odd job I picked up along the way. Knew somebody with a workshop, needed some extra cash. It's a long story. But yeah, that's where it all started."

To prevent any follow up questions, Lettie quickly bops Juno on the nose with the tip of her forefinger. "Your turn, cupcake! I might've dented the ship, but you didn't catch me. Then you threw me in a prison cell... and then a closet. So now I get a question." If they start negotiating like this, they'll probably keep up this back and forth up forever. Somehow, though, she doesn't really mind. Now that they're talking, she decides she likes talking to Juno. (The spider on the ceiling falls, landing on the other end of Lettie's pink couch. It crawls slowly towards them.) "I still want to know your secret hobby! And if not that, then tell me some other secret. Something you've never told anybody else."

 

[starboob]

“Well,” Juno scratches her chin thoughtfully as she slumps over onto the couch. At first she elects to just sit next to Olette, but then goes to lay down after a few seconds at a full stretch; this involves draping her legs over her lap no less, sandwiching her in place. (The couch is definitely too small for the pirate to be doing this, but that doesn’t seem to occur to her. Or, if it does, then this is just the pirate’s slick way of trying to get close to the faerie under the guise being too drunk to notice.) “It could involve mermaids, but after all that shit earlier… Gross. Evil fish bitches probably don’t taste good.” She nods resolutely and then props herself up onto her elbows so that she can look at Olette’s face. Her pretty, pretty face full of sparkles. She begins to count them. ‘One, two, three…’

She loses count after about twenty sparkles, in part because she’s drunk and in part because Olette accepts her offer for friendship. Her lips stretch wide into a smile, fully beaming at the faerie and not at all feeling like a fucking dweeb for getting so excited over having a new friend. (Her first friend in what feels like ages, because the Duchess surely never counted as a friend. They might have been friendly, but their relationship had always been transactional and at the surface.) The grin widens when Ole… (hmm) Olette tells her about her nickname––almost like extending a challenge to the pirate that she might join the ranks of “closest friends” if she proves herself. At least, that’s how she interprets it as she doesn’t think they’re close friends just yet––they just agreed on being regular friends and Juno doesn’t think you can skip steps. Or… are there even rules? She doesn’t remember, honestly. (Also, why does “Lettie” sound familiar to her? She can’t place it, but she swears she’s heard it a few times before. More than a few times even.) “Juju isn’t my nickname,” she frowns, confused. No one other than the faerie (Lettie?) calls her that, so it can’t be a real nickname. It used to bother her, but she’s grown to associate it with Ole… Lettie (?) so she doesn’t mind. It’s cute coming from her. Sort of makes her feel like she can be more than just a big scary pirate with how cute it is. “I don’t have any nicknames––well other than, like, runt but I don’t like that one.” She says this so casually that it’s hard to tell that the name has always bothered her. To be honest, she had forgotten about it entirely until recently; it’s been so long since she’s been a runt. “Don’t call me that. That-that wouldn’t be a friend thing to say. Juju is fine, I guess, but only you can call me that. Anyone else even tries, I’m punching their lights out.”

“Your me impression could use some work.” She says, poking Olette’s cheek playfully. (Yeah, Lettie feels too weird. She just doesn’t think that was an invitation and she doesn’t want to ruin the delicate thing that they have.) “Try lowering your voice a little more––like you spent your teens smoking way too much carb.” Juno may or may not have spent her teens smoking too much carb. “And never assume I’m gonna be polite just ‘cause they’re fuckin’ kids. Pfft, swears are essential vocab to anyone on the ground.” It’s like armor and dropping the swears is like letting someone in… so it’s interesting that Juno has been swearing significantly less around certain faeries. Hmm.

Juno nearly stops breathing when Olette smacks her bicep, letting her hand linger there. Again, she’s disappointed when the hand drops, leaving her with another imprint of the faerie on her body. She’s tempted to grab her hand and put it back where it belongs, but decides it would be way too weird. They only just became friends. She can’t make this weird too soon. Olette doesn’t know her like that. (And she wants her to. Desperately she wants to be known by her.) “I, uh,” she stammers, trying to remember the question. “I mean, I kinda have been in ones already. There was the one with…” She trails off, knitting her brows together as a stone grows in her throat. She decides not to fill in the name, because it’s obvious. Olette knows him and about this. “Then a bit later, I was in another. I dunno if the one in prison counts and I’m kinda in one now, being a pirate ‘n all. But I’m not wearing a fuckin’ matching jacket. Not if it’s pink or sparkly. That’s your thing, not mine. I gotta look tough so no one fuckin’ messes with me––so no one even thinks about messing with me.”

She doesn’t know how to address the comment that she’s the coolest person Olette knows and so she doesn’t. Especially since it’s contingent on her knowing how to heal bones and Juno has never thought that’s cool. For reasons.

“Okay, fine, we’ll just skip the dying part altogether,” she agrees, figuring that’s what the faerie meant and not even questioning the grim nature of her request. It’s not so weird to think about death when one has been steeped in it her entire life. But she doesn’t really want to think about her life when the faerie is giving her a glimpse into hers––something about star groves and ships. “So you’ve always been a genius? That’s cool,” she nods, unable to express how impressed she is beyond that––like, just deciding to fix up a ship? Then becoming a fucking master at it? Juno could never. The thought never even occurred to her and there was plenty of old machinery on the ground to tinker with, but tinkering never was really on anyone’s minds. Well, she can think of a few kids who were into it but they didn’t make it that far. Ugh, there go her thoughts, being all morbid again.

The bop to her nose eases her some and her easy grin returns, focusing on Olette. “Need I remind you that you threw me back into that closet?” She lifts a brow, but lets it slide. She’s past being mad about that. (And she did sort of forget about it in the flurry of everything else that happened.) “The secret hobby is staying a secret, buttercup.” (What.) She clears her throat and mulls over the actual question, not even considering blowing this one off. There’s so much she hasn’t told anyone that it’s not like she has a short list of things she might offer. She could say, ‘Well, I basically killed my best friend.’ She could say, ‘I fucking ruined the one good relationship I had.’ She could say, ‘I don’t actually like the Duchess. Never have.’ She could say, ‘I didn’t mean to explode all those people.’

“I don’t like fighting,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. (The spider marches along the top of the backrest.) Juno pushes herself to sit upright, removing her legs from over Olette, as a sense of restlessness takes over. (The spider stops, rushes back a few paces and then stills.) “I’m just on edge all the time and it feels like that’s the only way out. Otherwise I’m just like a cornered beast or something. And, like, I’m gonna bite. I have to. That’s how you get out; how-how you escape that feeling.” She rubs her palms over her knees, staring fixedly at the ground. “I mean, I’ll still do it. I’ll still fight for you––anyone who fucking makes fun of you is getting it and I’ll protect you like I promised, because it’s how I protect people. Or how I try to.” She wrings her hands together. “I don’t want you to think different of me just ‘cause you know this now. This doesn’t change anything. I’m still gonna punch fuckers in the face when they threaten us. I’m never gonna stop. I can’t.” Especially not with the Duchess as an enemy. “Just who I am at this point and I’ve made my peace with that.”

“But enough about me, you owe me for nearly getting us killed by dawdling with Clay,” she musters a grin, trying to steamroll over everything she’s just said. It’s not important. Getting to know Olette, however, is. “What’s your favorite memory?” Their lives have been hard, she knows this, and knows that this is a bold question because of that. But Olette also asked her a bold question, so she’s not breaking any rules. Besides, for as shitty as everything may have been, she knows it also couldn’t’ve been all bad. Even she has a few precious good memories.

 

[ellarose]

Lettie decides that she wants to keep on finding ways to make Juno smile if she's going to smile like this. (It's a good thing she's sitting down, because her knees are jellied at the sight of those dimples. It might also have something to do with the weight of Juno's legs resting across her lap... but it's mostly the smile. Probably seventy-five percent if she's going to get mathematical about it.) An unashamed happiness that the pirate doesn't usually show shines right through and it's a dazzling look on her. Sure she's a badass pirate and all-- this doesn't change that-- but the faerie firmly believes that this is a look that suits her. (Very much in the same way that the color pink and five-inch stiletto heels suit her.) It brings out her eyes, the apples of her cheeks, the shape of her lips... lips that might be nice to kiss. Oh. Lettie is drunk and she kisses girls when she's drunk. That's what it is, right? (But if the girl from that bar from forever ago was there with them, she'd still want to kiss Juno over her. She'd want to kiss Juno. Specifically. Ah! Stop, stop stop, stop. They literally just became friends. Leaning in right now would be totally careless. And leaning in only to get pushed away would hurt some type of way that she's not equipped to analyze right now.) Instead, she determinedly resolves to follow what Juno's lips are saying from here on out. The faerie flutters her wings and clasps her hands together joyfully when Juno confirms that only she can call her Juju. (She's not sure if she'd ever be able to stop, it's too familiar now, so it's a good thing she's not shutting it down.) She does set her boundaries about 'runt'-- but she would never in a million years think to call her that anyway. (Juno might mask it well, but Lettie knows more than she should about the source of all that hurt.) "Well, if anyone other than me calls you Juju--" She pauses, narrowing her eyes and popping her own fists out. "Or runt, I'll beat them up! 'Cause we're friends and I'm gonna fight for you, too."

When Juno pokes her cheek, it's like pressing a button that turns the faerie's face (and her wings) a soft pink. If Lettie had magic to spare right now, she'd totally dig into her pocket dimensional purse for her notebook and pen to write notes on how to do a killer Juno impression. Seems like she'll just have to try and remember. (She wonders how much she's actually going to remember. If she got to pick and choose her memories, she'd rather prioritize the memory of Juno's smile. Just thinking about it again has her melting like the gay little faerie she is against the sofa.) "Like..." She tries in a low voice that isn't quite low enough, sticking her lower lip out. She's not sure if the ideal is within her vocal range. "Like this?" She puffs her cheeks out (only slightly) when Juno insists she will not be polite with children. The faerie knows better, though, because those kids on candy world totally warmed up to the pirate-- what with the way they were hanging off of her by the end of the night. And not a single one of them got punted to the moon.

Nice going, Letts. Lettie wants nothing more than to smooth her hands over Juno's troubled brow when she touches on... well, they both know. She didn't mean to bring all of that back. (Juno mentions other gangs that she finds herself naturally curious about-- but she decides to be tactful about what subject she touches on.) When Juno touches on the concept of matching jackets, she clings to it like a lifeline. "Pfft, pink is hardcore! I love pink." (She says this as if it's a secret.) "Besides, isn't it like the ultimate test? You know you're extra tough if you can make pink look tough. Wearing pink wouldn't change the fact that you're fucking ripped." The faerie nods sagely, holding up Juno's jacket in front of her to study it like a spreadsheet. "But fine, fine. I could make the jackets reflect everybody's personalities. Yours could be black with spikes and studs and shit. Now we just need to come up with a name."

"Oh, oh!" Abigail opens the door suddenly. Lettie leans over and squints to get a better look at the doorway. It looks like a few of the skellies are piled up outside, as if they're standing there to listen in on their conversation. A score board stands behind them. (That damned score board again. What's it for? And who's winning now?) "Might I suggest: 'The Maestro and The Homies'?" Behind her, Phillip is frantically waving his arms and directing the other skeletons to run for it before plucking up the score board and running himself.

"No way in hell. We are not calling ourselves that." Lettie frowns and furrows her brow confusedly. What is even...

"Abigail!" Marjorie tugs the headless skeleton out of the room. "We were just passing by captain, Ms. Olette! Don't mind us." She waves her hand at them to carry on before closing the door behind them. Well. Okay then.

Lettie glances at Juno for a moment before resolving to carry on as if that didn't just happen. The skellies are just being the skellies. She snorts when Juno mentions her putting her back in the closet. "...Yeah, that's right. But technically it was Phillip who put you in the closet." She giggles, thinking of the night she had. She lifts her drink and raises it to her lips, frowning when she realizes she's all out. "Your crew really knows how to party. You should join us sometime, Juju!"

Buttercup? Lettie pouts when Juno proceeds to avoid the subject of her secret hobby. However, her expression gradually softens as Juno goes on to reveal a secret. A serious secret, one with meaning, and the faerie physically feels the weight of it in her chest. 'I don't like fighting.' Before it might have come as more of a shock... as it is right now, though, she finds herself wanting to smooth her hands over Juno's brow again. (Would it ease beneath her fingertips, or would she flinch back? Lettie hugs the jacket to her chest instead.) Juno fights anyway. That's the hand she's been dealt in this life-- she had to become a fighter to survive. Once again, the faerie's in a position where she knows more than she should about all of this. (And she can understand more than she'd like to admit. Her fight for survival might take a completely different form, but... she's tired, too. It takes everything she has just to get up in the morning most days when she feels like a lost cause. Because what if it's all for nothing? But she hasn't been able to stop, either, because if she does-- well, that's just giving up. Plain and simple.)

Lettie hesitates and then gently settles her hand on top of Juno's. It's warm. (Friends do this, right?) She doesn't have to say anything, she knows, but-- "Maybe... maybe someday you won't have to fight." She whispers back. (That's what it is. Juno doesn't want to fight-- she has to because there's no other option. Just like her.) "There are so many other worlds out there. I bet cubey would let you live wherever you want when our mission is complete. You could go somewhere peaceful." And preferably somewhere where she'll be able to get at least eight hours of sleep each night. That'd really set Lettie's mind at ease. (What is life after the mission's completion for her, anyway...? Will she even live to see it?) She closes her eyes and sinks back against the sofa, trying to paint her own ideal (unattainable) future. Laying in the grass, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the breeze. It's comforting to imagine a future like that for Juno, at least. "Like out in the mountains or something. You just have to make sure you don't lick the trees."

"A favorite memory, hmm." Lettie muses thoughtfully, tipping her head back and curling her fingers over Juno's. (Too many of them involve her. And she can't talk about her.) So she digs deeper than that, way back into her childhood memories where she won't snag against any forbidden topics. Some are innocent enough, but might open up gateways to conversations she'll have to avoid. It's not that she doesn't want to share. It's just that she can't. She doesn't want to draw the wrath of the golden noose again after learning her lesson one too many times. (This is always how it starts and she knows better than to test it.) "Well, there was this one time I got to go to a festival. There's a bunch of food and music and dancing and stuff. And it's a good excuse to get dressed up, so I looked super cute that day. I mean, I always look cute. But especially then. Got to wear flowers in my hair and everything." She coughs awkwardly. (Is she being tacky? She did look cute, so it's worth mentioning. Besides, it's part of the story!) "Anyway... I didn't get to do that kind of stuff a lot as a kid. I was always getting chased around by guys with cameras. So I was real excited about it, you know... until sure enough, those bastards turned up to ruin my fun. My friend Ravan gave me his cloak to wear as a disguise and we snuck away from the festival. I exploded the cameras with bomberflies, we stole some food, and ran off to the floating parks." Lettie isn't really sure how to describe them to someone who has never been there-- but ultimately decides the name explains enough. "We had the place to ourselves that day. Nobody was up there 'cause of the festival. So we ate our snacks and, uh, made this game of throwing ourselves off the side of the world. We'd see how far we could fall before we got scared and flew back up. It was a total rush! I'd never done anything like that before." She grins mischievously. "...And I won the challenge, of course. Don't tell him I told you this, but Ravan was kind of a wimp back then."

Lettie purses her lips, then. "...I didn't look so cute anymore after all that. My hair and outfit were seriously so messy. But for a while, that didn't matter. I forgot all about it and it was nice." She tilts her head. "To be honest, living on Lady kinda reminds me of the rush I got back then." It's nice, too. Has she ever admitted that out loud before? Before she can think about it much more, she blinks when she feels a ticklish sensation brushing her skin. That's when she notices a sweet little spider running over her hand (which is still sitting on top of Juno's) and smiles.

"Aw! Hello there, little friend--"

 

[starboob]

An earlier version of Juno might have balked at the idea that the faerie, or anyone, would ever be able to fight on her behalf––as if she, captain fucking Juno, needs anyone to fight for her. Now, however? It’s nice. It’s comforting to know that someone’s got her. It might still take her a while to fully embrace the concept, she might still fight like she’s the only one who gives a shit about her life, but there’s a subtle change, perhaps the equivalent of the first drop of rain that waters a seed. It’s not much and, still, someday the garden will bloom and she’ll accept that there is a faerie who will fight for her. (At least until she leaves, because they always leave and this is especially obvious with Olette, a faerie from another world. But why think of that? They’re having a good time and she won’t be the one to ruin it. With alcohol as her comfort blanket, she can save her worries for tomorrow. Besides, there's a faerie who she owes her full attention while she still has her.)

A faerie who can definitely make pink look badass. Especially with those knives she wears on her feet. There’s something about her aesthetic that, paired with an appropriate glare or a severe enough case of resting bitch face, would certainly make Juno think twice before approaching her. Honestly, had Olette not been knocked out when they met, there might have been room for her to intimidate the pirate. (Though Juno, past and present, will never ever admit to that out loud.) “Yeah, but pink makes me look ridiculous. It, uh,” she scratches her chin, her lower lip jutting out just slightly as she thinks of a phrase she’s heard Olette use before. “Washes me out.” She absolutely has no idea what that means, but she knows, from context, that one does not want to be washed out by their clothes. (Clothes can’t wash anything, though...) “Maybe they could be bone spikes, too? Then I could manipulate them and use them to ram into monsters and stuff.” Her eyes flash at the thought of extra protection.

Though the excitement burns to annoyance when Abigail pops in to offer the worst name suggestion in history. (She’s so fucking stupid. This is why Abigail is in charge of nothing on the ship. Long ago Juno assigned her the task of counting all the clouds in the sky and to never report on her findings until she knew with absolute certainty she had them all counted. That mostly keeps her out of the captain's hair.) Juno doesn’t even notice the scoreboard behind all of the skeletons and she suspects that Marjorie is lying about them all just passing by. She just doesn’t know why she doubts this, but she isn’t particularly interested in knowing what her boneheaded crew is up to. They're a bunch of fools. (And they're her fools.)

She would much rather spend her time trying to figure out what’s going on inside of Olette’s pretty little head. There’s so much that the pirate doesn’t know about her companion her friend and she wants to know as much as she can learn. (It might hurt her later. It could leave a gaping faerie shaped hole in her heart later, but she can’t help her indulgent self who hasn’t known anyone in years. Who hasn’t even let herself be known to anyone in years.) Her gaze softens when the faerie suggests that maybe someday she won’t have to fight. It seems like a flight of fantasy, but maybe she can entertain the thought because Olette is saying it and she wants to believe anything she says. “You really think so? I… I don’t know if I want to go back to Desdemonia,” she admits. Honestly, she wants to tell the faerie she doesn’t want to be on any world where she isn’t but… but that would be weird, wouldn’t it? Sure, they’re friends but maybe they aren’t the kind of friends who say stuff like that. “Some of those trees smell really good. It’s not my fault. You’re gonna have to teach me everything if you’re not gonna be there to save me from evil trees.” ‘But I want you to be there. Join me?’

The pirate leans forward, absently flipping her hand over so that their hands are palm to palm. She squeezes Olette’s hand. (She imagines what it’d be like to press her face into the crook of her neck and just rest there, nose against her pulse.) Her eyes skirt over the faerie, imagining how she looked that day––with the flowers in her hair and a cute outfit on. “What color was your hair that day?” she asks, not realizing she’s spoken out loud, but she does want to know. ‘Tell me everything.’ She wants to picture exactly in her mind what Olette looked like on a day she was happy. (What does her happy look like?) “I bet you still looked cute after. Maybe even cuter,” she continues, earnestly. If there’s one thing she knows about the faerie, it’s that she always looks good. Not even being disheveled could stop her from looking like a beauty queen. It’s so frustrating. Juno would hate it if she didn’t enjoy staring at her so much.

Then time stands still when Olette admits that being on Lady feels similar to that day. All the implications race through her mind at once and she almost blurts out, ‘Then stay.’ And it’s not embarrassment or anxiety that silences her, but noticing that eight-legged freak walking over the faerie’s hand. Her faerie's hand. The pirate glowers at it, raising her free hand and clapping it swiftly over Olette’s with a smack, paired with a squelch. “Dis-fucking-gusting,” she slurs, curling her lip as she feels the slight against the goddess writhe between their hands. “I fucking hate spiders.”

However her triumph over the bug is short lived when she belatedly realizes that her friend had called that bug a friend (for some reason). ‘Oh, fuck.’ Fear grips her, causing her eyes to widen. 'I fucked up.' Trying to remedy this before it becomes a thing and Olette dumps her homicidal ass, she grasps onto the fresh threads of death in an attempt to raise the "friend." Sparks, like from before, start shooting out from her hand (this is not a typical effect) and before her mouth can even shape the first syllable of her catch-phrase, she’s startled by the feeling of something bristly, burning, and eight legged moving under her palm. Juno doesn’t want to look, but her curiosity is too great and when she lifts her hand? There’s a glowing spider whose eight legs are snapping and bending back into place. Their eight eyes blaze yellow with fury and their pincer ooze something evil (at least Juno thinks so). “Uhh…” How did she fuck up the most basic necromantic practice?

 

[ellarose]

"It was blonde." Lettie answers, idly twirling her hair with her free hand when Juno asks what color it was that day. (It is really sweet, the way she says it like she genuinely wants to know. It's not like she's just humoring her with the obligatory back-and-forth she'd have to endure back home with her coworkers. Maybe they're working together now, but talking like this has never been part of it all 'till now. Because now they're friends. She's interested in her now, enough to remember her name and ask these questions about her hair of all things. Maybe it'll be nice, to be remembered by Juno, even if someday... hm. The idea that someday she won't be around to protect Juno from licking the trees makes her unexplainably sad.) "It was always blonde back then." She admits with a wry smile. Blonde, just like mother's. Light as it is now, but with the color of dazzling spun gold instead of spider's silk. The little (littler) faerie she used to be loved looking like a miniature version of her mother back then. But mother always loved it more-- as did all the articles comparing them-- and Lettie mostly just liked to see mother dearest happy. (Though she learned the hard way that just 'pretty' wasn't enough.) "Didn't really change things up the way I do now until I was a teenager." Then she met Lina and the last thing she wanted to do was make mother happy. Everything changed. Now it's never blonde. Never, never, never. She doesn't want to see her mother's face when she stares at her reflection. When she catches so much as a trace she becomes overwhelmed with the desire to cover all the mirrors with her bed sheets.

The faerie flips the strand of hair she was playing with over her shoulder. An endless source of torment, her hair. Now she'll never decide on any one shade, never stay in one place for too long. She changes her hair more frequently than cubey sends them off to new worlds. (At one point she stopped waiting for the day where she truly, truly likes what she sees in the mirror enough to decide what feels the most like her and settle. Her front is that she isn't any one color-- she's all of them. The whole damned rainbow. But in all actuality...) Geez! Why is she bumming herself out now? Oof, I really need another drink...

'I bet you still looked cute after. Maybe even cuter.' Lettie's lips pout out, as if this is something to argue over, but when she looks at Juno she glimpses an openness from her that says she isn't teasing or being even remotely mean spirited and... yeah, it touches her some type of way. (Just what the heck is going on around here...?) It's like when she told her that the color white suits her with the same conviction she might claim she's captain fucking Juno, or that the Lady Vengeance is a legend. (Which she is.) She resolves that Juno simply has bad taste in faeries. But that bad taste means that she likes her and the ghoul she is beneath all the glamour, and-- ahhh! How is she supposed to process this? But that's exactly why living here is the equivalent of throwing herself off the side of the world without a care. She's not going to get chewed out over her hair of all things while she fights for her life. She can drop her glamour around Juno, who hasn't been even remotely shitty to her when it comes to her natural look. And, yes... sometimes she recalls the very first time, the first flash of terror she's ever seen on the pirate's face when confronted with her nightmare eyes. But it's not like that anymore. At some point, the way she looked at her changed. Maybe she can't define exactly what changed, or why, and it's not like she can read Juno's mind... but it's good, she thinks. (It's like her life gets to matter more than her appearance... and there are only so few people in the worlds who genuinely make her feel this way.) In a way everything between them has changed since that first night. It becomes all the more apparent, the way they're talking about it now.

Maybe someday they'll talk about the untimely death of this spider the same way. Right now, though, Lettie's heart clenches as Juno crushes her brand new friend with a smack. (Their 'friendship' only lasted a total of two seconds before tragedy struck, but still!) "Juju, no!" There's something in her that reaches out, lurches and-- oh.

There's a strange sort of pull that goes beyond a feeling in her chest, a snapping spark generated in the space between the pirate and the faerie. Something created by them, presumably, unless the spider that just got smushed just happened to be some type of supernatural entity. Is the tingling she's feeling the magic or the spider? Or both? (Lettie almost expects the cube to float down and inform them that they've just killed the god of this world, who came to them to deliver a message in the noble form of a spider. Like sure, maaaaybe she's an itsy bitsy bit drunk. But maybe she's also super fucking used to bizarre shit like this happening on the regular.) The volatile sparks dancing around the spider's twitching, regenerating legs match the faerie's wings in color beat for beat, with gradient of starry yellows that fade into midnight blues. What is this? The pulling sensation comes from Juno's side, remnants of magic clinging to her own like threads and interweaving with them. Could this be a side effect of Juno opening her mind to her before? (The faerie can't be too mad, realizing that the pirate's first instinct was to try and bring the spider back.) A bluish hue radiates off of the spider and-- yeah. It pulses through her, she vaguely senses the spider the same way she sensed the mermaids. It's similar, if not the same. Juno must've used her necromancy in a completely different way than she did with the mermaids to generate this effect. "Wow. Did we just..." The electric jolt of an instant death, shaking her to her core. This rage...

This little fellow is full of rage. So much that it hardly fits inside the arachnid's small body, emanating in waves and taking up some space in the faerie's chest. Uh oh. They might have a problem if nothing is done about this soon-- especially judging by the way they froth with venom. (The spider is susceptible to becoming drunk with power in this form, there's no telling whether or not that venom will eat holes through anything it touches. Her pink couch or, say, flesh.)

That anger she's sensing is (understandably) directed at Juno. Lettie relates, as a faerie who has been angry with Juno on multiple occasions. (Less lately, sure, but it's relatable all the same.) Ah. The spider wants to melt her face. (Lettie can think of better things she would like to do when it comes to the pirate's face. Most of which involving those kissable lips--) She waves these thoughts away before they can develop into full fledged fantasies and carry her off too far. No way, little friend. You're not melting my pirate.

"Now, now. Come here, it's all right." Lettie soothes the spider in a voice that a (good) mother might use to console her child. She opens her palm to it and the spider quickly accepts the unspoken invitation, skittering on reanimated legs to crawl right onto her. Undeterred and unafraid, she holds it up to her face as if she means to tell it a secret. It's up to her to vouch for the pirate and play peacemaker. "Juno used to piss me off, too. But she's pretty okay once you get to know her!" The spider's pincers twitch and it makes a gurgling noise, as if it means to argue with her. "I know she killed you-- like for a second-- but we totally brought you back! ... Uh. Somehow. Whatever just happened, you've got a pretty sick exoskeleton now. I'm sure you'll be the life of the party with your new raver glow." Do spiders on robot-workshop world throw parties? (Knowing there's a world where aquatic creatures can fly, it isn't nearly as ridiculous as it sounds. That and spiders are great fun at parties on Avangeline, too.) Whether this is the case or not, the spider takes it for the compliment it is and turns an appealing shade of pink. (Her wings do the same.) How cute!

Honestly, she didn't think there were any living creatures inhabiting this planet with the exception of the robots. There's something in her that's eager to see what else she and Juno are capable of together after seeing these results. (Could they build an army of undead spiders? Because that sounds badass. Obviously she doesn't want to go on a spider crushing rampage on purpose or anything as heartless as that-- but what if they could draw on the energy of dead spiders that are already dead?) Like-- what the fresh hell is this? The spider is sort of an honorary skellie-- but intrinsically different, because she's involved in this process in a way she isn't with the skellies. This is something that's theirs and that's pretty cool. (Just as she considers this, the view outside their window changes from the starry landscape to a peaceful forest full of tall trees.) The faerie tilts her head at this change. Well, she's eager... but they're fresh off that mission and need to chill a sec. For now, she resolves to pay attention to her new friend-- who is notably fond of her already.

Lettie smiles and strokes the spider's fuzzy back with the pad of her forefinger. The rage she senses fizzles out to mild irritation as the spider crawls down her arm and finds a suitable perch on her shoulder. They make another noise and once again, she understands what they are trying to say. (That and more. She sees snippets of the spider's short life, crawling across the ceiling and taking an immense liking to her new couch. It's not that she hears a voice, not really, but she gets it.)

"Juju, you need to apologize to Velvet for calling her dis-fucking-gusting." Lettie nods sagely at the spider's terms and purses her lips. If the spider could make the same expression it probably would try to match the faerie, the same way that their pinkish colors match. "She'll melt Lady with her demon venom otherwise and we don't want that." Then she leans back and hums contemplatively. "...We were holding hands, weren't we?" She pokes Juno's hand and a tingling like electricity sizzles over her fingertip. "I don't know what just happened-- but our magic totally linked up again. How'd it feel on your end?"

 

[starboob]

At this point nothing should surprise Juno. It should be a long dead response from her system ever since she found out that faeries are fucking real. If that hadn’t turned off the response, then it should have been turned off when she had been stolen from Desdemonia and plopped onto other worlds. Yet somehow, even with all the bullshit her life has become––like discovering dead gods, infected planets, and being told that she now shoulders the burden of responsibility for reviving the worlds (alongside Olette)––weirdness still manages to challenge her expectations for what should and should not be possible.

To say the least, Juno’s fucking shocked. Maybe the alcohol in her blood contributes to her dumb look of surprise, but honestly the second she lifted her hand, she sobered up some. She rubs her fists into her eyes to make sure that what she’s seeing is real and when the apparition doesn’t disappear with a bruising rub? She accepts that, somehow, they transformed the spider–– this is beyond reanimation. Reanimation doesn’t change a creature’s color or give it personality––zombies she’s raised in the past have almost always been more like puppets. Alive and bending to the will of the necromancer. Most of necromancy is about being a puppeteer in that sense. This, however? This isn’t straight necromancy. (This explains why Juno alone would never be able to properly revive the fallen gods. Her own physical limitations aside, were Juno to revive a fallen god on her own they would be shadows of their former selves. So, yes, she quickly connects that her and Olette’s magic has fused together once again. Though this time without their knowledge or intention. It just happened.)

Juno scoots away from Olette and the demonic spider, sensing evil energy wafting off its revived form. (Well, she might also be hurt that her friend only thinks she’s “pretty okay” after all this time. Maybe she’s reading too deeply into that comment, but the pirate’s always been sensitive underneath her hardened exterior and these little comments do needle against her.) The pirate curls her lip watching the faerie pet the demon like it’s a pet. No way in fucking Hell is Juno going to let that thing live on––

“You want me to what to who?” Juno doesn’t really remember the last time she apologized. Actually, she does, because she apologized to the faerie only minutes ago for her goddess awful behavior when they first met. But that had been well fucking earned over the course of months (or a week? Juno really doesn’t know what timeline she’s part of anymore) and now Olette expects her to apologize to Velma? As fucking if.

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, looking up and away like a stuck up little kid. But when she peers over at Olette and notices that she’s serious (and gets a sense that the demon is as well), she uncrosses her arms and mutters out a half-hearted, “Sorry for fucking telling the truth and that it hurt your feelings, Velma.” That’s pretty good, right? That’s gotta be enough because that stupid fucking eight-legged abomination/insult to the goddess has not earned her respect enough to get a fucking apology. Besides, the pirate isn’t sorry for calling it dis-fucking-gusting. It’s fucking true! Doesn’t matter if that stupid little spider is pink or blue or whatever color it chooses, it’s fucking unnatural.

She grabs the liquor from the desk and takes a pull before setting the bottle on the floor between herself and Olette. At this point, Juno notices that the scenery has changed outside and gets up from the couch to look out the window. “Hmm?” She asks, turning to half look back at her friend (who thinks she’s only pretty okay). “Yeah, guess we were.” She flexes her hand, remembering her warmth on her skin and how she desired to kiss her hand. (She still does, but now she definitely knows the faerie doesn’t want that. That’s fine. She’s a star and Juno’s a rotten pirate. They don’t mesh even if the thought excites her. ‘Gotta crush that before it crushes me. We’re just friends.’) “I dunno, I wasn’t really paying attention. I thought I was just pulling on threads, but it felt, uh, tinglier.” She closes one eye and tries to pull up the memory. It’s grainy, because the pirate doesn’t make a habit of remembering too much, but she does vaguely recall the way Olette’s finger zinged against her skin when she poked her hand a moment ago. Absently, she smooths over the area. “It wasn’t exactly the same as giving that mermaid goddess a boost, but it wasn’t entirely different either. Sorta adjacent. It wasn’t like a normal revival, that’s for sure. Felt like I was giving Velma something, which is different than a usual revival where I just give the corpse a jolt and connect it to myself. Velma doesn’t feel connected to me, not really.” She shrugs and yanks on the latch to the window; it swivels open at the midpoint.

“I’m gonna go lick those trees.” Juno grins to herself after making this announcement. The pirate then begins to crawl out of the window, sticking one leg through the opening first, then, once she has a firm grip on the sill, maneuvers the rest of her body out, letting herself hang there for a moment before letting go. It should be noted that the study is at least three stories up from the ground. This is not something Juno really thought about before dropping, but she somehow knows she won’t get hurt. And her bet pays off when a cloud materializes to catch her, before gently dropping her on the ground. “I’m fine!” She shouts from the ground, giggling to herself. “That was fun.”

Dazedly, the pirate stalks off into the forest. No, she doesn’t intend to actually lick the trees (well, if they smell good she might be tempted), she just wants to get out of the study and the new scenery is interesting enough. Plus, the study was starting to feel cramped with Olette being there, existing as the attractive little faerie that she is.

Maybe it’s being drunk, maybe it’s that she knows she’s changed since her first experience in a forest (where she carelessly chopped through the brush), but the forest feels different. Then, when the faerie joins her (she’s both happy and distraught over this), the forest somehow feels more intense. There’s a pulse she can feel. Something she’s never felt before, and she wonders if something changed between them and their magic when she let the faerie in and when the faerie gave her a boost. Is this just leftover from that? Or something else? Either way, it pulls Juno to hug a tree and rub her face against the bark. (She’s drunk. This is totally because she’s drunk.) It feels like the tree is breathing? (She doesn’t know a lot about trees so of course she doesn’t know that they technically do breathe and, on some planets, there are forests big enough to be referred to as the “lungs of the planet.”) She mutters incoherently against the tree and, on occasion, asks Olette a question about the greenery. 'She's so smart.'

At another point of her aimless wandering, she observes a very weird bug inching across a tree branch. It’s green and worm-looking, but definitely not a worm. (Olette tells her it’s not a worm. This is the only reason she makes this distinction.) Her eyes shine watching this little cat-or-pillar move with determination; she even gasps a few times watching it find a good spot on the branch to hang upside down from. When she grows bored of watching the cat-or-pillar wiggle around, she moves on to other things. (If she comes back to the cat-or-pillar, she will absolutely freak out seeing the chrysalis form around it.)

Every now and again, she looks over at Olette and watches her. She tries to picture her with blonde hair, but maybe her imagination isn’t that good because she can’t picture it. Blonde doesn’t seem like her. Too plain. (White isn’t plain, however. There’s character in it––at least the pirate thinks so.) It’s almost like when she saw Olette turn her eyes brown. That hadn’t felt like her either. If Juno thinks about it long enough (and she is spending a lot of time on this thought, for some fucking reason), aside from white, she likes the faerie with blue hair and green eyes. She can’t quite place why.

The pair drift closer and closer until they’re exploring the forest together, rather than exploring it next to each other. Olette offers her some berries and, for the first time, Juno accepts them. Some of them are tart, but not like those acid candies that she likes, and others are sweeter. She likes those ones more and will nudge Olette whenever she wants more.

As they explore, they stumble upon the corpse of a fuzzy striped bug with a fat body and wings that should not be able to support it. Juno gives Olette a questioning look and promises that this will be the only experiment they run––but there seems to be a silent acknowledgement that they’ll be way too curious to stop if they’re successful a second time. (Even so, Juno doesn’t get a sense that either of them will let the other go too far. They like each other too much to let the other burn up. And, besides, she's already sworn to not abandon Olette like that so she won't.)

They cup their hands over the corpse and, just as with Velma, sparks emit from their joined hands. This time, Juno focuses on what she feels, noticing at first the familiar pull of strings only, but there’s also something else underneath that. Her brow knits together as she tries to figure this out, eventually recognizing that they’re not just filling the hollow shell with the necromancer’s will but drawing back the bug’s (bumble-b’s) essence––and more than just calling on the spirit, which Juno has never been good with (so she assumes this is more Olette than herself), they're giving it a zap of something else. Something she doesn’t know how to identify, but she figures it’s from Olette, because when they lift their hands to see if it worked? The fine fuzzy yellow stripe on the bumbler’s back turns iridescent and flickers through different shades of color until it matches Olette’s and Velma’s hue. The bumbly's wings buzz and it flies up, looking between Olette and Juno curiously. It then goes to nuzzle against the necromancer's cheek and then faerie's. "We did it," she whispers, her eyes widening. “Olette… Just one more? Please?”

 

[ellarose]

Lettie crosses her arms over her chest, a mirror image of Juno herself in stubbornness as she gives her 'apology' to Velm-- Velvet. It is an apology, but it's not a very good one. Stars, it's terrible. (Knowing the pirate, though, it's probably the only one she's going to coax out of her. Before it was different... she apologized without prompting before. That one sounded like she meant it. And it meant something in turn. She doesn't observe Juno like prey who is trying to outsmart a trap laid out for her by the universe anymore-- now it's out of a curious desire to get to know her better as a teammate and friend. The apology is all the more touching because she didn't ask for it. Juno did that all on her own. She has already proven her intent over and over with actions, but it gives the reassurance that extra oomph to hear it vocalized... ah. It's a side of the pirate that she could get used to, really. She can be surprisingly sweet.) Anyway! Of course the faerie is going to speak up on behalf of her eight-legged-friend, but she gets the sense that Juno won't say anything she doesn't mean. Velvet is not accepting this, however, and so she puts her all into giving the spider the best tiny pets she could possibly offer.

Rather than attempt to say anything more about the apology, Lettie listens to Juno's side of whatever it was they just did with no small amount of curiosity. She leans forward on the couch as she does so, nearly crash-landing on her face. She elevates herself with the frantic flapping of her wings before that can happen. (Geez! Her face is unbruised for a change and she'd like to keep it that way for as long as she can. She wishes Juno would sit closer to her again... but maybe she's still wary of Velma-- Velvet. Velvet.) Obviously this close call is a call that calls for another drink, so the faerie reaches for the bottle that the pirate set down between them and takes a swig. "Add-jacent!" She is taking this seriously. It's just that that word sounds like the funniest word she's ever heard right now. (Ranks right up there with finagling.) With a slow nod, she believes herself to look like a wizened professor while nodding her head with understanding. (In reality she looks like a faerie who is about to fall on her face again.) "I see, I see. I felt tingly, too."

Lettie blinks through a haze as Juno approaches the window, slightly amused and not at all registering what is happening right in front of her. What is she doing? It's when one of her legs is hoisted over the side and she announces that she's going to lick the trees that the faerie springs into action. "Wait, no--!" She flies forward, her fingers barely grazing the pirate's arm before she's plummeting down beyond her reach. "Juno!" (Down, down, down like--) The memory flashes through her mind and her heart sinks like an anchor in her chest, a heavy fucking anchor, and she drifts back down and collapses against the window frame when it does. (Too much, too soon, after... after...) She squeezes her eyes shut. She can't breathe. (Not again, not again, not again.) Then Juno announces that she's fine a moment later and it unlocks whatever kept her locked up, allowing her to breathe again. The faerie holds a thumbs up over her head and sinks out of view from the window and back into the study, curling into a little ball. It's fine. It's fine, she's fine. She just needs a sec to unwind.

"Fuck." The faerie presses the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. She wants to cry but she won't, because it's stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. (What's stupid? The pirate, for jumping out the fucking window? Or her, maybe-- probably, for getting so attached that she already feels like this at the thought of losing her--) Velvet climbs up her leg and settles down on her knees. When Lettie opens her eyes, she sees that she's blue now. (...Do her feelings affect Velvet in some type of way, too? It does seem like it goes both ways.) Whew, shit. She needs to go and make sure Juno doesn't lick any trees. Who knows how far she's gotten by now?

"Don't let it get you down, Velvet. People were only telling me the truth when they told me I had nightmare eyes. Because I do." The faerie pretends this is about the botched apology, widening her eyes to show them off as they flash for an instant. "But some people think that creepy is cute, I guess." Like Juno, when she told her that white suited her. Well, she didn't explicitly say she was cute or anything. But it had that effect. She gently places the spider on top of her head before crawling over to the bottle and taking yet another drink. "And I think you're a-fucking-dorable!"

"You are talking... to a spider." That's when fucking cubey scares the everloving shit out of her, beaming in right in front of her.

"And you're a cube. Fuck off, cubey!" Lettie closes her eyes and takes another long drink, intending on ignoring the cube before cubey confiscates the bottle and blips her into the forest.

Lettie sighs and flies in languid zig-zags as she catches up to Juno. She keeps close, but also maintains a slight distance from above. Like a guardian angel, supplying answers to her questions and making sure that the pirate doesn't lick any trees. (Hugging them is allowed, though. And it's very cute. There are a lot of little things Juno does that are cute-- like her fascination with the caterpillar lighting her storm cloud eyes up with childlike wonder. (It's refreshing to see that expression on her, knowing those eyes saw too much too soon and had to grow up too fast.) Wait until she hears that caterpillars become butterflies! The faerie has a feeling it's going to blow her mind.) Gliding around, surrounded by nature (and Juno's cuteness), her spirits naturally begin to lift skyward as she soaks in the energy all around her. Eventually she even recharges enough to glamour herself back up. While she considers green, she settles for a green that's a touch more blue than green to ensure it doesn't resemble snot. Inspired by the flowers, she turns her eyes a hydrangea blue-violet. Then finally, she goes for a traditional styled dress to pay homage to the forest-- a flowing skirt with embroidered branches, flowers and bluebirds. (Letting the high she's feeling carry her along, she doesn't bother trying multiple outfits or checking over her look in a mirror to give it the official stamp of approval. She feels good about it and that's all that matters.)

When Lettie gathers berries, she considers how fun it would be to go to an orchard together-- she could pick the roundest apples from the highest branches and bring them down for Juno to try. Because now she's actually trying them (in front of her, that is-- she did notice when some of them went missing back then when the pirate had to take some as a last resort) and not suspecting that she's secretly trying to poison her like before. It's fun to watch her expressions every time she tries a new one and makes a note of the ones she likes more than others. (Knowing what the pirate thinks of ketchup, she can't help but wonder what her opinions on applesauce would be... maybe she'd like it with a pinch of cinnamon?)

By the time they start discovering bugs, Lettie is recharged enough to confidently give it another try. Restoring Velvet didn't take too much out of her-- so she knows she can handle round two with the bumblebee. Then round three with a cricket, round four with an abandoned fly in a spider's web, round five with a couple of beetles on the underside of a leaf (they learn that they can raise multiple insects at once with this one) and so on. Lettie informs Juno of the names of every insect they raise from the dead, even if she knows that they're going to get turned into something completely different when she refers to them later. The symphony of insect noises that follow them through the forest swells louder and louder as more of them join their exploration party-- with the chirping of the crickets, the buzzing of the bees, the hum of beating wings on the damselflies and and butterflies. They both check in on each other frequently and just as frequently insist they're still doing fine-- buzzing like the bumblys with excitement to try another one.

As it gets darker and the sky fills with stars, Lettie excitedly points out a few fireflies that seem to join their group as honorary living members. (The other insects glow a lot like fireflies in this form, illuminating their path long after the sun has gone down.) The forest is so lovely at night. Lettie likes the way the raver glow emanating off of her and the bugs mingles with the silvery moonlight, painting Juno in all kinds of mysterious colors that suit her. She looks so cool...

Eventually, they come full circle after reviving another spider. (Lettie is particularly excited about the prospect of raising a friend for Velvet, who has come to enjoy resting on her head like a crown.) They don't exceed their limits, not in a serious way, but they gradually sink to the ground and chat until they can't hold their heads up anymore. Lettie traces constellations with her finger and tries to explain the stars to Juno until all her words devolve into mushy gibberish... and they completely pass out.

Bird chirp with the morning light, but Lettie doesn't wake yet. She rolls over in her sleep when the sun burns against her eyelids and a few insects scatter to move out of the way as she collides with Juno, who is sleeping right next to her. Automatically, she latches onto her arm like she would her pillow and unknowingly nuzzles her face against the pirate's shoulder. "Killer..." She mumbles in her sleep. "Watch out. The killer... is coming..." The faerie sighs, troubled, and her brow furrows. "The killer... no, not bumblys, Juju. The killer..." The horde of glowing insects around them rustle and scatter all around them, seemingly unnerved by the faerie's dream. "Killer bees... there's a difference." She makes a buzzing noise and clutches Juno even tighter, her expression twisting even more as she fears for their lives in this dream of imaginary killer bees. "...Run."

 

[starboob]

The rest of their evening and night passes in an excited blur of carefully reviving dead bugs and charging them with a mixture of necromancy and raver magic, turning them back into themselves, but also giving them a boost of something extra. Olette tells her the names of the bugs, but honestly? Juno has a hard time remembering all of them, and not because her memory is shit when it comes to these things. She’s admittedly too focused staring at her lips and the shapes her mouth makes as she pronounces the words. Hers is a voice she'd like to listen to forever, if forever would ever allow.

Each time their hands touch, there’s an electric zing that makes her heart sing and she’s not convinced that it's from their magic alone. After a certain point, she can’t even blame it on being drunk (but she might still try to blame it on being tired). The pirate even agrees to the last spider mostly so that she can touch Olette’s hand one last time before the night ends, and she desperately tries to keep the night alive, keeping her tired eyes open for as long as she can because she’s scared that once it ends, it’ll be over. But she knows that’s not true either. They won’t go back to how things were––not entirely. Juno might still get on the faerie’s nerves and Olette still might annoy the pirate, but it won’t be the same as before, because they’re friends now. They care about each other now.

Even so, she doesn’t want to sleep. She’s not even scared of her nightmares, it just occurs to her that she’d like to hang out with Olette for her whole life. Or, as much of it as they have let. It feels like sleep will only waste the precious time they have left together. But she knows the faerie wants her to rest; she remembers how concerned she had been after the mermaids and how she had begged her to sleep even before that. She won't resist it tonight, but she just doesn't want to sleep until she absolutely has to. (On the surface, this isn't unusual for the pirate. It's only different now because her reasons for wanting to stay awake are entirely faerie-centric. Olette-centric, if one wants to get technical about it. She can't let a second with her go to waste.)

Olette tells her about the stars, but Juno doesn’t really follow. (They’re just dots…) She mostly just looks at the faerie, lit up by their swarm of demonic bugs, the flame bugs, the moon, and her own raver magic. ‘She’s breathtaking.’ As she fights with her eyes to keep them open, to enjoy more eyefuls of Olette, she eventually can only nod, grin, and grunt along to her companion. Anything else is just too much effort. Sleep is imminent, she knows this, so she tries to muster the last of strength to mutter, “I wish… known you… sooner.”

The nightmares come for Juno with their usual bite and claws, but every time she wakes up, she searches for the faerie next to her and upon seeing her, falls promptly back to sleep knowing she's not dust; that it was only in her head. This happens a few times throughout the night, but eventually her brain must accept that Olette is safe because the nightmares shift into dreams, replaying their time in the forest. They’re kids this time. They're happy or at least having a good day. Juno lobs handfuls of crushed berries at Olette, getting them stuck in her white hair. She laughs in a good natured way; Olette gets revenge. They roll down hills, wrestling. They race through the fields, laughing. They do all the things two kids are supposed to do, because in this dream they’re the two kids who should have had this experience.

The dream shifts, however. (Even in her dreams, happiness can't be forever.) Olette’s white eyes go wide, her wings light up like spooky kaleidoscopes, and she points behind Juno. Her lip quivers before she's able to breathe out, “The killer.” When Juno turns, there’s a mash-up of the Shrike and that weird amorphous entity hurtling towards them––

Juno jolts awake, her stormy eyes electric as they snap open. Sweat is cool against her hairline from those last moments of her dream, her heartbeat quick, but while the greenery matches what she has just seen, the air doesn't feel cold and tense. It's warm. The chirpers are singing and she slowly remembers that she is safe, because the faerie should be around here somewhere. 'Where's...?'

A smile pulls at her lips when she notices something (someone) clinging to her. She’d know her shape anywhere and it’s the feeling of her that makes her stomach flip and her heart leap. She peers down at the faerie pressed into her shoulder, her gaze softening considerably upon seeing her. (She could stare at her all day.) The pirate doesn’t dare move or wake her, not wanting to ruin this. Her fingers graze over Olette’s shoulder. She brushes some colored hair out her face, brows stitching together as she observes the upset look on her face. She hears her mutterings and lifts a brow, her heart skipping a beat when she says her name. Though the rest completely perplexes and simultaneously amuses her. (Killer bumblys? Sounds beyond fake.) ‘Should I––’

Click!
Brrzzz.

Juno’s attention snaps up and she jumps back into the tree behind them, startled by the sight of Abigail holding the cube up like a camera. A black square with a white border falls out of the cube and seesaws down towards the pair, but before Juno can grab it, Abigail beats her to it. She snatches the square and clutches it to her chest, spinning while she jumps up and down. “Twelve points for the captain! I’m winning!”

“No,” the cube says (???), floating out of the skeleton’s hands. “That is only four points. Olette still leads by a half tally, putting Marjorie in the top spot for taking the prized rib.”

Juno rubs her eyes in disbelief. ‘The cube talks? Like, talk-talks?’ She looks down at Olette to see if she’s been roused by this, but makes no effort to disturb her beyond that. She turns her attention back to the skeleton and cube as they go back and forth about the points––whatever that means. (Privately, Juno makes sure to reprimand her crew for gambling. She doesn’t need those bozos waltzing around with jaw crowns and rib daggers again.)

“The captain is winning in my heartless solar plexus.”

“Yes, of course, darling,” the cube nods. (‘Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.’) Then it turns to look at Juno. “Howdy doo, captain. The bags under your eyes look significantly less severe than before.

"At Ms. Marjorie’s behest, I am informing you that you have twenty-four hours and twenty-two minutes before our next departure. You will not need your… demon swarm for the next world, but I do encourage you to work on your apologies. Dinner is at seven sharp.”

"The magistrate will be there! She wants to style you both," Abigail grins (somehow). "She says you two dress like you walked out of a dumpster fire, hehe. She is a riot. You'll love her!"

Before Juno can open her mouth Abigail is waving and the cube blinks them both away. “What the fuck…” she whispers, about to look down at Olette but then Velma (no) and Daphne (definitely not) catch her attention first, followed by the rest of the swarm. “What the fuck,” she repeats, eyes widening as she looks at the blinking demonic bug army they must have raised last night while drunk and exhausted (and sleep deprived, in Juno’s case). Hundreds of creepy eyes all just stare at the duo, expectant; some snap their pincers, others wriggle their antennas. Juno scoots closer to Olette, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I thought we only brought back, like, twelve. Shit. Fuck.”

The pirate finally looks at the faerie, still not moving away from her, still not swatting her hand away, still remaining close to her. (Is this allowed? Are they still friends or was that only a drunken deal?) After a beat, and deciding to ignore the thousand eyed problem in front of them, she asks, “Were you dreaming about me?” She wishes she didn't sound hopeful about it, but she is. (She also wishes she hadn't asked that but it's out there and she can't take it back.)

 

[ellarose]

The faint buzzing of the swarm rises to a crescendo and Lettie realizes it's too late. She and Juno argued so much over the existence of killer bees (Juju claims they're fake) that the swarm of them has now caught up-- she tugs on her pirate's arm and points at them. See!? (Even if they're about to die to a thousand stings, she wants Juno to admit that she's right before that happens.) However, following the motion of her hand, another swarm of bugs that glow like she does rise with her finger like a conductor for a dueling orchestra. They create an illuminated insect cocoon around them, protecting them from the bees. The pinks and magentas of their bodies lit up all around them remind her of the pretty cherry blossom lantern bar back home... and then, suddenly, they're in that bar. Pink flower petals hit the ground and turn to dust that leaves a trail of blood splatters when they do. A jolt of fear hits her like a punch to the gut when she realizes they're in Avangeline and squeezes Juno's arm tighter to be sure that she's still standing beside her. No, not yet. It's worse than that forest, than being surrounded by killer bees. I don't want to go back home yet. It's not even her home anymore.

Click! Bzzzt. Click, click! One by one, the insects (their insects) burn out like lightbulbs over their heads, the world flashes and fades darker and darker. Lettie pulls Juno's arm, feeling that they need to get out of there, and look up to find that the pirate (her pirate) has turned into a statue. (Lettie's pretty sure her heart turns to stone in the same second... and it's breaking. While it does, cracks begin to travel outward from the scar on her face and she shatters into pieces, leaving the faerie on her own.) Unable to support her weight anymore, she falls on her knees-- trying to collect the pieces, cutting her hands while trying to put her back together. She can see the reaper coming for her, but she can't move. She can't just leave her there. (If they die, they should die at the same time. That's what Juno said. The faerie kind of expected to go first, but...) You can't escape, Olette.

It flashes forward, flickering and closing in on Lettie. It gusts her with hot breath and spears her through with sharp teeth.

Lettie's leg jerks out, bringing her back into herself and the world comes rushing back into focus. The soft breath of the forest wind, the chirping of the birds... the cube. Fucking cube. "...four points. Olette still leads by a half tally, putting Marjorie in the top spot for taking the prized rib.” The fucking cube who insist that she's winning. She's not sure what she's winning at, exactly, but she's glad. Allowing her eyes to flutter shut again, she stills from her shivering and takes a breath to compose herself. It wasn't real. The faerie snaps her eyes open again and they frantically dart around to make sure that Juno's still there nonetheless. (She should be, it was a dream-- only a nightmare-- but still.) Then she sees her standing there and she allows herself to melt with all encompassing relief against the forest floor. The cube also greets the captain, solidifying her reassurance. Thank the fucking stars.

Covered in a mixture of cold sweat and morning dew, Lettie shivers again and groggily brings herself to sit up against a tree with a groan. She's drenched, all gooseflesh (ugh, horrible word), tangled hair and certainly feels like she walked out of a dumpster fire when Abigail claims they were judged that way by the 'magistrate'. She's not offended by that assessment-- as she did look like garbage. However! She is greatly, greatly offended that it presumes she styled herself that way on purpose-- so much that cubey's baby thinks it needs to style her.

Lettie's tired brain struggles to compose a speech about just how insulting she thinks this assessment is and before long, her chance to speak on her behalf passes her by as the cube whisks them all away. Coward. She'll have to ask the cube how it feels to be a new mother when she next sees it. Perhaps that's a question she should also be asking herself, though, when she notices what Juno is 'what the fucking' (twice) about. She blinks once. Then twice. The insect army blinks once and then twice back at her. Oh. "That is a lot of bugs." Yeah. That it is. She thought they only raised, like, twelve! And Juno echoes the sentiment, word for word. (Oopsie? Alcohol and magic is never a good mix. Well, it's a blast in the moment, but then sometimes she'll wake up to find out she raised a whole army. Okay, so maybe this exact version of events has never happened before? Yeah, no, never like this. But her point still stands.) No wonder her dream took a buggy and deadly turn! These dead bugs and their memories probably got all mashed up in her. She can feel them in little ripples and waves inside of her now and she wonders if there's a way to, uh, turn that off somehow. Has this ever been done before? Is there a manual for it? Shit. The chaos is all fun and games until she has to deal with the repercussions in the aftermath. "There's Velvet, of course, and Delphine..." The faerie struggles to remember the names of those she knows she named-- like the spiders. The others are sort of a blur, though. Fuck. "Fuck."

Warming up now that they're close, Lettie leans in closer in response to Juno scooting in towards her. She simply reciprocates without words or thoughts, as if it's the most natural thing in the world to stay close to Juno. The pirate's hand on her shoulder reminds her that she's still there with her, it keeps her grounded in the present moment and not in some nightmare world where everything is horrible and tragic. (While they've still got this, she needs to appreciate it. She's not about to go making it weird... she'll just stay still, let it happen. If the pirate wants to hold onto her shoulder, then she's going to let her. Because it's nice.) Her hand is warm, softer than stone in spite of the callouses from fighting her whole life, and Lettie likes it settled on her shoulder better than any number of sparkly accessories. Were you dreaming about me?

Lettie blushes from ear to ear, her freckles sparkling with the contrast. What!? How did she-- Now, not only do her pink wings give her away, but their entire demon insect army blushes pink as well. "Why... why do you ask?" When her initial surprise fades, though, so does the pink. It sweeps across the insects into an ocean of blue. "You were there." Her throat clicks when she swallows, remembering the way she shattered. The reaper, the golden noose. "It just... I don't remember it very well." The faerie frowns, at a loss. Geez. That was fucking terrible lie and she knows it, and Juno probably remembers it, as the color of the bugs gives her away. "Or-- I, fine-- I do. But I don't want to. Everything went wrong. I think I'm still getting..." She swirls her hands towards their bugs. "Uh, vibes from the bugs? And there are so many of them now. They've all died in some way... and I don't know how to turn it off. Guess it's something we'll have to figure out."

If this were any other situation, the faerie's not certain if she would have said anything about the nightmare and just kept it all to herself. But since they worked together to raise this army, she wonders whether or not Juno might be able to help her 'turn it off' somehow, since she... uh... helped her 'turn it on'. (This brings to mind the image of them turning each other on and Lettie along with the bug army blushes pink again.) Lettie realizes that she cannot but this sentiment into words now that she's given herself these unhelpful mental images. Fuck. She looks at Juno as if she might have the answers, then, only to get lost in really looking at her while remembering what the cube had to say. The bags under her eyes really do look significantly less severe and she softens a bit at this.

"Hey, looks like you finally got some sleep." Lettie says, poking Juno's hand. (A little zing shoots through her finger yet again when she does this, bringing back snippets of memories of the night before.) "I used to love taking naps on flower petals, or out in the sun. I'm always wishing I could run off into the forest when I get really tired... there's just something about it..."

The faerie turns pink again. There she goes, opening up again. Since when is she speaking all the little thoughts that come into her head? (They did agree to be friends... that memory accompanies the memory of Juno's beaming smile, which she's held onto with so much importance as if to be certain it'll never fade.) From there, she tries to remember what the cube and skellies were talking about before in attempt to change the subject before this can get too weird. (Or even weirder than it already is? And yet at the same time, this situation feels normal. It's totally contradictory and she doesn't know how to make sense of it yet.) That's when she gasps randomly and snaps up onto her feet. Oh. Oh, it's on. Now she's a faerie on a mission.

"Juju, there isn't any time to waste! We need to get ready for dinner!" It's still the morning. Lettie paces regardless, visibly fretting as she looks down at her dress. It's pretty, yes, but also all wrinkled, dirty and damp from their night in the forest. Her hair is in desperate need of brushing and styling and of course she needs to fix her make up. "I need to show up looking totally bomb tonight so that pretentious cubey 2.0 doesn't think I'm a walking dumpster fire." She puffs her cheeks, which are now blushing with rage. "Ugh, I'm so insulted! Does it think I looked like that on purpose? We risked our lives for that fucking cube-- it could stand to be a little more gracious. Cubey really needs to teach their baby some manners."

Lettie determinedly turns to Juno, then. "This is very important, Juno. My reputation as the most stylish soul on Lady is at stake." Then she does a mischievous little shimmy as she moves back in towards the pirate, batting her blue-violet eyes and tugging playfully at her arm. "...I could style you, too. If you want. We could even coordinate our outfits! What do you think?"

 

[starboob]

Her ears burn hotly as she waits for a response, entirely unsure of what she wants to hear and frightened that Olette might outright laugh in her face for thinking that she, a rotten pirate, would ever occupy an inch of space in her brain. ‘Why the fuck did you ask that? Why the fuck couldn’t you keep that to yourself? You’re so fucking stupid.’ Despite her self-reprimands she doesn’t tear her eyes away from the faerie and doesn’t even try to tamp down the hopeful look in those storm clouds. Maybe because she’s stuck counting her sparkles again? They seem brighter under her blush and, lucky for her, the pirate doesn’t immediately put together the reason for her sudden pink hue. She only registers that the faerie looks obnoxiously cute––even if her dress is all wrinkled and she looks disheveled from her slumber. (As if Juno cares about any of that.)

When she realizes that her hand is still lingering on Olette’s shoulder and that Olette hasn’t yet pulled herself away, she seizes up. ‘This is definitely fucking weird. Quit fucking touching her.’ She drops her hand, missing their connection already. Ugh, she knows that while she’s grabbed the faerie before without being rejected, that those moments had also been surrounded by stress and action. It made sense. Grabbing onto her now and holding her like a lifeline is just… is just weird. They’re friends. They don’t need to be all touchy-feely. ‘Olette is just being polite, probably.’ (Though even she recognizes that doesn’t make sense when they’ve always been brutally honest with each other––from calling each other stupid to insulting what they wear. If the faerie hadn’t wanted her hand there, she would have made it known.) She grabs onto her stupidly buff arm, awkwardly, just trying to keep her hands busy while Olette fumbles with a response.

A response that is an obvious lie, too. The pirate knows she shouldn’t care, but she’d be lying if she said she weren’t hurt over this. Friends don't lie to each other. They shouldn't, at least. (Does she only get honesty when she's hated?) Though there is some odd satisfaction in knowing she’s lying about this, of all things, and so she clings to that.

She raises her scarred brow, amused, as the faerie pushes out excuses before getting to the truth. ‘She… cares.’ Though this is an established truth at this point, it still sends a shock through her system each and every time it’s confirmed, as if the minutes or days that pass between each admission might erase its veracity. “You talk in your sleep,” she explains with a shrug, her tone light and casual. ‘It’s cute.’ “And you might’ve said… Nah, you totally muttered my name while talking about killer bumbles. You’ve got a fuckin’ imagination, I gotta say.” There’s just no way those fuzzy fellas could be homicidal––even if she knows they have stingers, Olette said they don’t kill and they don’t hurt that much. She’s pretty sure she remembers her saying that stinging actually kills the bumbly herself, which doesn’t make any sense to Juno but Olette is smart so she doesn’t question it. (Okay, she does, but not to her face.)

“That’s interesting.” She looks over at their swarm, noting how their color mirrors that of Olette’s wings. She pulls in her lower lip as she considers this, her eyes narrowing in contemplation. “Guess they imprinted on you instead of me.” What? Is Juno going to explain this? Nope, because the faerie is a genius and she’s not going to magic-splain what she probably already knows. She completely misses the implication that Olette doesn’t actually understand what’s going on with her when she mentions that they’ll have to figure this out.

The pirate blushes when the faerie points out that she looks rested. She’s not sure why she blushes in response to the obvious, but maybe it’s because she knows part of that reason has to do with Olette, with the assurance that she was safely sleeping next to her each time she woke with a start, with the dream of them as kids together. There’s also the zing when she pokes her hand, reminding her of how nice it had been to hold it throughout most of last night. “Y-yeah," her voice cracks. "I mean, I was pretty fucking tired from all that shit yesterday soo…” she trails off rubbing the back of her neck, looking away from the faerie.

“Fuck, how small were you?” Her gaze snaps back over to Olette after she mentions sleeping on flower petals––like, Juno might not know much about plants and shit, she only just learned they don’t like being chopped down, but she’s pretty sure that flowers are tiny. Even with the memory from yesterday, she had assumed that that had been a bastardized version of events and that the faerie had never been doll-sized. “I, uh…” Her cheeks redden, worrying that she’s majorly offended her new friend. “Being small is fine. I used to be small.” Now her face is positively on fire. She groans internally and tilts her head up to hide her embarrassment. ‘Why the fuck did I have to bring that up? She knows you as stupidly buff. Don’t fucking ruin your image by reminding her you used to be a fuckin' runt!’

Hiding her face in her hands, she half listens to Olette’s newest concerns, grateful that they don’t need to be talking about her former life as a fucking shrimp. (Look, there’s nothing wrong with being small––Olette’s fucking tiny and she’s still fucking badass. It’s just that, for Juno, being small was a torture that was constantly exploited. …Was it like that for Olette? Is it like that for her?) She ignores those thoughts and focuses on dinner, even if they haven’t even eaten fucking breakfast. “You look fuckin’ fine––why do you care about a fucking cube’s opinion? Those little shits don’t even have eyes. They probably think fucking spheres are attractive. There's no fucking way they know how to appreciate you properly.” Fuck. Was that her outside voice? That was totally her outside voice. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She’s dead. She’s screwed. She’s totally fucked up their friendship and made it fucking weird with her inner-dweeb. (Even if that vampire dork is proof Olette is probably okay with dweebs, Juno doesn’t want her thinking she’s a dweeb. For reasons. It would be terrible for morale if her partner thought she was stuck working with a dweeb. Yeah, that’s totally it.)

When the faerie tugs on her arm, the pirate drops her hands and looks down at her friend and gulps when she bats her eyes. (They are friends, right? They have to be if she wants them to have coordinated outfits.) “Oh.” She looks down at her own clothes, not seeing anything particularly wrong with them. They cover her, so they function as clothes as far as she’s concerned. The holes in her shirt and pants aren't a big deal to her, nor are her scuffed boots. She really only thinks she needs to shower in order to make herself presentable for the evening, but the faerie seems to have some sort of vision for them. “Um, okay. Sure.” Why Juno agrees is a complete mystery, but she does and she doesn’t take it back. (Spoiler: it's because she’s a homo pirate.) She just skirts her gaze to the side and gestures back towards the ship so they can prepare––even if dinner is fucking hours from now and, again, they still haven’t eaten breakfast.

As they walk back, Juno plucks some berries from the bushes, somewhat remembering what Olette taught her yesterday. To be extra cautious, she shows the faerie the ones she’s grabbed for poison control before she pops them in her mouth. (She debates mashing some and throwing them at her, like in her dream, but decides against it even if they’re probably going to shower anyway. The Olette in her dreams didn’t like it and this one probably won’t appreciate it either. She doesn’t want to ruin what they have.) She sighs as she eats the berries, wishing she were eating crispy bread (toast) instead, and wonders what the mashed berries might be like on a slice of crispy bread (toast). This is definitely a taste experiment she will have to try out when she's certain her friend is asleep.

They make it back to the ship, demon swarm in tow, and head to the pirate’s room since she’s the one with an actual wardrobe. Once there she flops backwards onto the bed so that her head is hanging off of it. “I’m not going to wear anything fucking pink. That’s your color,” she reminds. “Don't put me in any fucking color, actually. I like black. And don’t put me in anything with frills, I fucking hate that shit.” She tosses a berry into the air and catches it in her mouth. “I’ll veto anything that makes me look like a fucking dweeb, too. I want to look fucking badass, like I could break those stupid cubes if they try anything funny."

 

[ellarose]

"You like black!? I never would've guessed, Juju. Shit." Lettie trills with a playful gasp, as if this is the hottest goss of the century all while she flips one-by-one through the sea of black coats hanging up in Juno's wardrobe. Silently, she wonders how many of these Juno has taken off of corpses. Then she decides it's probably better not to wonder about that. She selects one that speaks to her and drapes it over her arm as she continues to explore deeper into the wardrobe. "Hm... if we're going to coordinate, I'm gonna need you to settle on at least one color. Black and whatever color I want my hair to be tonight. Like if I go for pink, you should wear a pink bandana tied around your arm. Or maybe some embroidered pink skulls on your collar! I promise, just a pinch of color-- even pink-- will be very effective and won't eliminate your badass factor." She gets distracted then by one of the white tops hanging up. It's silky to the touch and on the hanger, it's on buttoned down to the last three buttons. She imagines Juno with a classy shirt buttoned down real low like that and swallows hard. Damn. Her imagination takes it a step further, rolling up the sleeves to reveal those stupidly buff arms and... she imagines her wearing that, using a husky voice to tell her that the cubes can't appreciate her like she can and-- (Shit, shit, shit. Who's giving the Juju in her imagination the right to be so damned smooth? But it's all rooted in things she's heard in reality, so it's not all that far-fetched if she really thinks about it.) There seems to be a brief mental struggle warring in her head before she bites her lip and decisively takes that shirt from the hanger. "Oooh, this one's sexy." She sings the rest under her breath. "Sexy, sexy..."

The faerie spins around with the bundle of clothes tucked in her arms, her smiling eyes flickering with mingled mischief and amusement. "Catch!" Before her fantasies can fill themselves in with even more detail at the image of Juno's lounging form draped across the bed, she happily tosses the bundle over the pirate like a blanket and then dusts her hands together to commend herself on a job well done.

"We're gonna need some models in here." Lettie nods decisively. She glides over to the door so that she can search for some nearby skellies to help them out. Turns out she doesn't have to look much further than the door to find them gathered just outside with that scoreboard again. Two of them frantically start turning the scoreboard around so she can't see what it's all about (is she still winning?) before Phillip outright picks it up and makes a run for it with booming footsteps. The faerie arches a brow, deciding her outfit preparations take priority, and then yanks Marjorie and Inez inside by their wrists. (Abigail works too closely with the cube and might be compromised.) "Come on, you two."

Lettie brings the two skeletons in to the front of the room and puts her hand to her chin as she examines them. There aren't too many difference between the two skeletons, with the exception of their eye-glows, so it doesn't really matter one way or the other. "Okay. Inez, you're going to be Juno. Marjorie, you get to be me!"

"Perfect. I dabbled in modeling before I was a cowboy." Inez proclaims confidently and graces them all with a dramatic pose to back her statement up with. "I would be doing your scowls justice right now, captain, if I had the muscle and skin to act with. Do I get to swing the captain's bone whip around, too?"

"No." Lettie insists, pursing her lips as she collects the assortment of clothes she picked out. "No. This isn't going to be like our dinner with the Duchess." She hopes, anyway. (Even if being fake girlfriends was kind of--) Briefly, the faerie remembers the eyes the Duchess made at Juno and the way she spoke about their time together and a twinge of something rises up in her chest. She's gotta look stunning tonight. There really is no other option. "Unless cubey's baby insults me. Then I can't make any promises. All hell might break loose if that happens."

Inez laughs with an ominous 'heh, heh' as she undoubtedly remembers the way she completely obliterated the Duchess's mansion. Marjorie sets a tray she'd been carrying in her free hand down on the nightstand. It contains two steamy mugs from the night before-- the skull and the trunk with the butterflies. (One of their demon butterflies lands on the handle of the butterfly mug, as if to join friends. Lettie feels the twinge of disappointment it feels when it realizes it's perch is both very hot and it's new 'friends' are made of glass. Bummer.)

"Coffee this time, if either of you would care for some." Marjorie supplies before delightedly clasping her hands together. "Captain, are you taking an interest in Ms. Olette's hobbies? How delightful!"

Lettie pushes the bundles she selected for herself and Juno into the skeleton's arms and asks them to get dressed. As they do so, she does a backward hop to collapse next to Juno on the bed, grinning like a kid as the mattress does a little bounce with her weight. (The faerie now feels relatively confident she won't be unceremoniously tossed from the bed as she'd been before.) She glances at the coffee cups and then at Juno, remembering how much of it she drank at the diner. "...You can have both cups, Juju. I don't like coffee unless it's more sugar than coffee." The faerie swings her legs up into the air and points her toes to stretch them out before allowing all of her limbs to flop back down with a sigh. She'd probably feel at ease in this rare, peaceful moment if her heart wasn't racing with the knowledge that the pirate is right next to her. So close that their arms nearly brush, creating a sort of tension in the air. If she rolls over just a little to the side, she'd end up pressed against her and... ahhh! She needs to talk about something. Anything. "So you like your coffee just like you like your colors, huh? Black as a starless night, that is." Lettie rolls around so she's lying on her stomach instead of her back, propping her chin up in the palms of her hands, crossing her legs and idly kicking them behind her. She angles her head to look at Juno instead of the skeletons, squinting her eyes slightly like a color detective. "But you've gotta have a favorite color other than black." Her brow furrows a little deeper as she begins to take the matter more seriously. "Wait. Don't tell me, don't tell me! Let me guess first."

Lettie hums thoughtfully and looks around Juno's room as if she might discover some hints hiding within. However, there's nothing there to give her an indication. Everything around them is white, or black, neutral or steely. "Juju's favorite color..." It's definitely not pink. That one's so obvious it's not even in the running. Juno mentioned green reminding her of snot, so that's probably out too. She did like those orange wrapped peanut butter candies-- but that was obviously more about the taste than the color itself. Deepening that orange to red-- red could be plausible. A lot of people who like black also tend to like reds or purples, because they go well with that gothic aesthetic. (...Like Ravan.) But there's more to Juno than just wanting to look like a badass. She's got some secret depths, the faerie thinks, so her favorite color might be something totally unexpected. That only leaves a few left. Hmmm. Oh yeah, for sure! She's totally hit gold here. Well, not the color gold, because she doesn't think it's gold... but still! She's pretty sure she's got a solid guess here.

"Blue! It's gotta be blue." Lettie grins excitedly, freckles sparkling across her cheeks. The faerie taps her forefinger to her temple. She's got this one for sure. "Are you amazed? I've been paying attention all this time, Juno. It's totally blue. Am I right?"

From Lettie's peripheral, she notices the skeletons are changed in their outfits and sits up. (Marjorie's the one who's going to need more work-- currently wearing one of the long nightshirts and a belt-- it'll take more glamours to turn that into a pretty evening gown.) "We weren't exactly given a dress code for tonight, were we...?" She hops up from the bed, bringing her lips to the side. Probably because that pretentious cube wants to style them itself. Geez. Well-- the joke will be on it when they walk in all slow-mo action movie style, looking absolutely stunning! The faerie decides to start with Inez, undoing the shirt's buttons the way she wants them and arranging the coat collar just so. "Hm..." She glyphs the shirt so that it's blue instead of white and then glyphs her hair into that same shade. Then she steps aside to give Juno a gander at the outfit she put together. There's not a lot to change, really, except for the color of the shirt. (Though she might give her a cool belt or some embellishments on her coat as her own outfit starts coming together.) "See? If you wear a blue shirt under your coat, it only peeks out a little bit. Your silhouette is going to look very badass in this-- not that you need much help with your stupidly buff arms-- and it's not too far outside of your comfort zone." She winks, hoping to send the message that she's on Juno's team and she can trust her as a stylist. "And it's your favorite color!" Again, it has to be blue. She's a faerie with a vision here and she's confident that the pirate will look killer in this. "What do you think?"

Lettie skips towards Marjorie, then, and begins workshopping her dress for the evening with far more complex glamours. Her tongue sticks out from the corner of her mouth as her concentration levels start to rise. "This might take a while..." The faerie warns. Her stomach grumbles and she ignores it. (They're going to eat later, anyway, and the cube tends to make sure that they don't outright starve.) "You can go do something else for a bit if you get bored, Juju. But I'm gonna want your opinion later!"

 

[starboob]

"Blue! It's gotta be blue. Are you amazed? I've been paying attention all this time, Juno. It's totally blue. Am I right?"

Juno, who has been avoiding looking over at the faerie once it registers that she could easily roll over and end up on top of her, makes the mistake of turning her head to look at Olette. With the way they’re positioned, the faerie is beaming down at her and her smile is like a ray of sun cast through a window. It lights up face and makes her cheeks glitter like a lake. She finds herself lost in that look, for a single moment forgetting that she’s captain fucking Juno. There’s also something devastating about the way that she looks at her––but it’s a good kind of devastation, if there is such a thing. It’s the kind that isn’t about ruination, but transformation, change, the promise of something entirely new. (Does she embrace it or does she fear it? That is to be determined.)

Blue.

Blue, like the color of her hair that fateful day they first met.
Blue, like the breathtaking aquatic sky they second visited.
Blue, like the berries she once introduced her to.
Blue, like the moonlight bathing her last night.

Blue, a permanent reminder of Olette’s expression right now.
Blue, this moment.
Blue, just the way she wants to remember her.
Blue, the color she wouldn’t mind drowning in if it's the memory of the faerie.

Blue, blue, blue.

In an instant, it’s no longer just a color to Juno. How can it be, with Olette looking at her like that? It’s not such a bad color, she realizes.

“Yeah,” she agrees in a whisper. Inez and Marjorie both exchange looks in the background, but don’t say anything. “It is blue.” The pirate sits up, her eyes following Olette as she changes the white silk shirt to her favorite color and Juno doesn’t protest like she had convinced herself she would.

Since her own outfit is settled and they still have hours until the dinner itself, Juno grabs the black silk robe from the knob on her bed frame and heads into the attached bathroom to shower. But the second she’s away from the faerie, a wave of doubt washes over her. The hot water might wash away all the grime and ick clinging to her skin, swirling it down the drain until the water runs clear, but it doesn’t do anything to erase her cuts or scrapes or bruises. It does nothing to get rid of the scars littering her body. This has never mattered to the pirate before––scars aren’t exactly rare on Desdemonia––and her scars are a symbol of her survival, a battle against nature won. She’s proud of them, on some level, but… Only some people can pull off scars, she remembers Olette saying, and the pirate can’t see that applying to her, when hers aren’t some fancy aesthetic placed lovingly and with care on her skin. Each one is haphazard and deep, telling stories she’d rather forget. There’s survival in them, yes, but no glory, nothing pretty. Juno can’t figure out why she finds herself caring so much about this, about Olette caring what she looks like, but maybe it’s because she knows, with certainty, that she’s going to judge her. She’s vain. If the entire show she’s trying to put on for a fucking cube isn’t proof of that enough, then all the times she’s caught Olette checking herself out in any reflective surface should be evidence enough. (Seconds after nearly getting killed, she turned a knife into a fucking mirror for crying out loud!) Though Juno wishes she weren’t even thinking about this and getting all twisted over it, there’s no denying that the thought that the faerie, the pretty fucking faerie with all her sparkles and shine, might find her hideous does grate on her.( She comes from a world that’s fucking beautiful and Juno comes from one that distinctly isn’t; she’s a product of that ugly world whether she likes it or not and there’s no way Olette would want to stick with someone like a beast. Her beastly nature is only convenient while they’re fighting tooth and nail for their lives. Yeah, she cares about her now, but will she always? What would her pretty little friends think of their friend hanging out with someone like Juno? It’s easy to be friends now when there’s no other choice, but there has to be a limit to this. ‘Why care about this? She’s going to stick with her pretty life and I’m going to… who fucking cares.’)

When she finishes her shower, she’s glad that the mirror is too fogged for her to see her mangy appearance. She quickly pulls on a pair of briefs and then covers herself with the robe as best she can before she steps out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. She doesn’t check on Olette’s progress and feels too embarrassed with herself to even look at her as she darts out of the room, scattering a bunch of skeletons in the process. (She doesn’t notice the scoreboard, yet again.)

The pirate finds herself in the kitchen, a place that has become a source of comfort and relaxation for her. At first, she just stares at the empty counter and is soon tempted to turn on her heel and head back into the bedroom––for safety reasons––but remembers the faerie’s growling stomach. She can't return empty handed. Though in no mood to cook (what could she even cook for someone who probably feasts on decadence?), she pulls out some items from the stocked fridge and pantry. Rather messily, she throws some white and orange cubes (cheese), slices of thin salty meats (deli meats), plain wafers (crackers), and juice orbs (grapes) all onto a platter and brings it back to the bedroom.

Once there, she sets it down on the desk, snaps, and points towards it. “Eat. Dinner’s still hours away and food helps with, uh, thinking or something.” She shrugs and turns to walk towards the bed, but before she can flop over and stew in her self-loathing, Inez tosses the outfit she had been wearing at the pirate.

“It is your turn to play the role of captain Juno,” (“I am captain fucking Juno.”) “It’s really not good for my skin to be scowling this much.” (“You don’t have fucking skin––you even admitted that!”) “Anyway, show Ms. Olette the look she curated just for you! Though I know I make a better captain Juno and it is impossible to compete with a decorated actress slash model slash cowboy slash astronaut etcetera, etcetera, she does deserve to see her muse in her design, heh heh.” The skeleton then jumps on to the bed, laying on her front with her hands tucked under her chin while she kicks her feet behind her. “Go on, captain! Show us what the goddess gave you.”

Juno’s cheeks erupt into flames and she isn’t sure whether she wants to throttle Inez or disintegrate from embarrassment. She covers her face, groans, then starts towards the bathroom––

“Sorry, captain! I have to use the little skellie’s room.” Marjorie cuts ahead of the pirate and locks herself in the bathroom before she can protest and point out the fact that she doesn’t have a fucking bladder. From inside Marjorie says, “Don’t get old, captain. Your bladder just really gets away from you.”

‘What the fuck.’ The pirate shakes her head and doesn’t even try to fight it. Her crew is fucking weird and she’s given up on trying to understand them. Still, she’s not going to basically get naked in front of Olette––they aren’t those kinds of friends and she doesn’t want to scare her with her scars––so she decides on changing in a different room. Only to find that when tries to open the door, she can’t open it. She jangles on the doorknob and shoulders it a few times, but it doesn’t budge. “What the fuck.”

“Oh, no…” Inez sighs, feigning surprise. “Guess you’ll just have to change in here. It’s fine! Nothing we all haven’t seen in the mirror––not that Ms. Olette would ever try to steal a glance at your powerful form. No way, hehe.”

Juno shoots Olette a pleading look––one that apologizes for the skeletons’ collective behavior and another that does ask her to not look. She gives herself as much privacy as she can manage by turning her back towards the faerie and opens the robe, slipping into the pants first. Then she grabs the blue shirt (it really is a pleasant shade) and tries to shimmy it on without dropping the robe, but, during her maneuvering, the robe falls before she can get her other arm through the second sleeve. This briefly reveals the pirate’s bouldered back and the scars lining it; some appear to be from claws, other from blades along with a couple from burns. She hurriedly pulls her arm through the sleeve and begins buttoning up the shirt; she remembers when the Duchess gave her this shirt and how she insisted it looked better with only the last three buttons fastened. She also recalls that that is how Olette had it styled on Inez, but looking down at that scar from the blast she took beating the shit out of the shadow, she decides to button it to her throat. This is, admittedly, odd for Juno as she does usually wear her shirts unbuttoned after the Duchess gave her that advice, but she just…

“Tsk.” Inez shakes her head disapprovingly and hops off the bed towards the captain. “No, no––that is not how I modeled this look. This is why I’m the better captain Juno.” The skeleton sighs, now standing in front of Juno, and begins fixing her outfit. Juno tries to stop her, but Inez bats her hands away. “Nope. You are the least cheetah-licious member of this crew and I am pulling rank.” The pirate has no idea what to say to that (what does that even fucking mean?) and, in her stunned state, Inez takes full advantage by undoing the buttons down to the pirate’s mid-abdomen and then begins fixing her sleeve. “Ms. Olette.” The skeleton spins the pirate around to face her. Like this, at least half her abs are showing and Inez has rolled and pushed up the sleeves enough that her biceps are poking out. “What do you think? The jacket was marvelous on me––but I can pull anything off––doesn’t she just look so dashing without it? Just look at these,” the skeleton pokes Juno’s bicep. “It’s a crime to carry concealed weapons.” She then lifts up the captain’s arms and goads her into flexing. “C’mon, show Ms. Olette your stupidly buff arms. You know she likes them.”

Juno, again too stunned to process what’s happening, does exactly that. She flexes for Lettie Olette.

 

[ellarose]

"Yes! Knew it!" Lettie giggles, punctuating her joy by pumping a celebratory fist in the air. This is an answer that has come with months of careful observation, after all. Of course she would guess Juno's favorite color after everything they'd been through together! (Well, okay. There is a tiny part of her that doubted just how close she was actually going to get. She considers it a big accomplishment, though, that she was able to guess it correctly. Juno's willingness to admit that she guessed correctly from behind that part of her that insists that black is the only color she will ever wear also makes her happy. It's nice to learn things about her that no one else knows. Like, she bets the Duchess doesn't know her favorite color.) Rocking from her her heels to her toes, her mind races ahead as she considers an array of different blue looks for herself in order to compliment the outfit she picked out for the pirate. Something that Juno might like... what kind of dress will Juno like...? The pirate has already left the room, so there's no way to sneak glances at her to gauge her reaction. Drat. (...And she's, uh, dressing up to impress cubey's baby. Right! That's what she's doing this for. She totally has to redeem herself! Totally.)

The faerie begins to workshop the shirt and belt on Marjorie into something that's at least dress-shaped to get herself started. Lettie starts with a simple slip and makes changes and adjustments from there. Solid or patterns? Hm. Going for sparkles might mean the return of the 'disco tits' nickname. No, that'd be too much. And what about the material? Should she go for spaghetti straps, halter, or sleeveless? (Knowing Juju, the pirate might be out of her coat by the end of the night after lending it to her anyway. Um. It's not like she's strategically designing a dress where she leaves the possibility where she might get cold or anything, but...) She bites her lip as she adjusts the glyph to try a corset for the top half, similar to the style she chose that candy-currency world. (Juno tends to stare most when she wears something that hugs her curves. Understandable, considering she'd also stared some type of way at the Duchess-- who, yes, looked annoyingly sexy, too-- but she doesn't want to model her look after the Duchess... because she is Olette Lycoris Radiata and she doesn't have to copy the freaking Duchess to be stunning, damn it!) Thoughts of the Duchess often accompany those wonderings whether or not Juno regrets her decision to choose her at all... but those fears aren't really quite so prominent anymore when she considers the entirety of the day before.

Juno, getting down on one knee. Lettie, thinking that if she spontaneously proposed that she'd say yes. The faerie touches her hand to her cheek and blushes, recalling how gentle her touch had been while cupping her face in the palm of her hand. Captain 'I'm not soft for anyone' Juno cares about her. And the whole 'I'm not soft for anyone' front is just that. A front. Because the pirate is totally soft if everything that happened yesterday is any indicator. The way she chuckled softly while softly removing that spiky ball of bones from her hair, beaming at her softly with those dimples in her cheeks. Lettie knows better than to say anything at all. But Juno being secretly soft in some capacity doesn't make her any less of a badass. In fact, it makes her even more of one to the faerie. (She doesn't at all notice Inez waving a hand in front of her face as she recaps everything they experienced together in her head.) Snapping out of it slightly, somewhat registering the movement, she nods hurriedly. "Oh, yeah. Good idea, Inez. Go get the gym mirror!" She says dazedly, shaking her head and determinedly schooling her expression into one of focus as she plants her hands on her hips. (Not that Inez had said anything about the gym mirror.) "I think I'll be more decisive if I can see myself in these dresses. Even if you are doing a brilliant job of being me, Marjorie." Marjorie strikes another dramatic pose and Lettie nods approvingly. Such a queen. "Seriously, lady. You're stunning!"

"...Oh, no. I was actually going to suggest we practice some romantic poses while I'm dressed as captain Juno. You know you want to!" Inez pops the collar of the silky blue shirt slyly, thrusting her ribcage forward as if to puff out her chest and Lettie's blush intensifies. (If a skeleton could wink, she knows that Inez would be winking right now.) "Inez!" The faerie shrieks quietly, grabbing a pillow from the bed and lobbing it at the skeleton, who snickers as it hits her in the face. She tosses it back and then turns, flippantly waving a hand over her head. "Okay, okay. Gym mirror it is."

"You think she'd mind if I, uh..." Lettie scrubs her hands over her face before nodding towards the bathroom, noting from the open door that Juno finished her shower and has since left the room to go somewhere else. (Hopefully she didn't hear Inez's 'romantic poses' comment on her way out. Ugh, that skeleton! This is exactly why she needs to ask Marjorie's opinion on these sorts of things-- she's never sure whether she can always take Inez or Abigail's advice.) Normally she would have strode right into Juno's personal bathroom as if she owned the place... but now, she finds she's no longer going to relish being a nuisance in that way. She doesn't want to sour this. (This. What even is 'this'? Lettie doesn't have a definition for it, but... she likes what 'this' is.) Marjorie makes an ok symbol with her skeletal hand and the faerie hurries in to take a shower. Can't be modeling her outfit while she's fucking disgusting, after all. (She's been in the ocean and had a mermaid's mouth all over her leg. Gross.)

Lettie doesn't dare to face her reflection in the mirror and heads directly for the shower. She sighs contentedly as the water falls over her, humming as she washes the gunk of salt and grime from her hair (it doesn't occur to her in the moment that she hasn't sung in the shower since she was home-- with the ghost in her sink around to give unexpected feedback that often scared her witless) and when she's all finished, she rubs a cute heart shape in the fogged up mirror to see her reflection as she combs the tangles from her long hair. It was long before and has grown even longer since first arriving on the ship, practically waist-length since she's had no time to cut it. She wonders if Juno would prefer it longer or shorter? Can't go too short, though, because it always has a way of making her look like a kid with her height and physique. Besides, there are one too many hairstyles she'd have to part with if she cut her hair too drastically. (Geez, she was such a mess back there and she aches to remember it. At least now there's a sort of satisfaction that comes over her as she smooths out all of her creases, working her way back up and seeing improvements with each effort that she makes to rectify the situation. It'll be worth it if she can get Juno to stare at her-- um. If she proves to cubey's baby that she is a stylish faerie! Because that's what this is all about.) She observes a bruise near her jaw, touching it gently with her fingertips and pulling back when it aches. You've got your work cut out for you, Letts. Piling her hair up on her head in a messy bun, she glyphs it to reflect Juno's favorite color (blue, obviously!) before covering herself up in a towel. Last but not least, she takes her bracelet from the counter-- the one constant of her ever-changing wardrobe-- and fastens it securely around her wrist. Her fingertips linger there a moment longer, tracing it. Lina. Lina's favorite color was blue, too. Although she liked a radioactive variety. She envisions Juno's favorite blue being softer. Like the sky on a clear blue morning more so than the loud neon of Avangeline's bustling night life. (The comparison seems apt. Juno does remind her a little of Lina in the way that they're (...and were, in Lina's case) both reckless, bold, and a couple of badasses. But there are plenty of differences between the two, too. 'They probably would have gotten along well.' Then, with a half-smile, 'They would have gotten into so much trouble.') Before the memories of their childhood that never was can catch up with her again, the faerie puts on a brave face and pads out of the bathroom to discover the gym mirror she requested.

Juno walks in again before she can prepare herself. Lettie turns as she snaps and sets the tray of food down on the desk, gliding over to investigate the platter. She tries and fails to ignore the sexy way Juno's wet hair sticks around her face-- as well as the fact that she's in nothing but a robe. (Never mind the fact that she's currently in nothing but a towel.) Whew. (Might not be hungry but she sure as hell is thirsty.) Is it just her, or is she experiencing serious deja vu here? "Thanks." To distract herself, she stuffs a cheese cube into her mouth and doesn't realize just how hungry she is until she swallows. (And damn is it nice to eat food that tastes like food. She's still bitter that cubey didn't come through for her back when she was forcing herself to eat that horrid roast wasp. Their demon swarm buzzes uneasily as she considers this... she hopes it doesn't come to that ever again. She's not sure if she could force herself to eat any of their demon bugs now that she's been bonded to them. Which she, uh, still needs to figure out.) She eats another cube (of the cheese variety) as Inez suggests that Juno try on the outfit she picked out.

Lettie chews slowly and registers that she's watching Inez and Marjorie both orchestrate a situation where Juno is left having to get changed in the room with her. Oh. (...Wait a sec. Are they doing this on purpose!?) Catching the pleading look that Juno shoots her way, the faerie gulps down her cheese and obliges with a nod, turning around to give her privacy. (While turned around, knowing what must be happening right behind her, she holds her reddening face in her hands. If that 'romantic poses' comment wasn't enough, now they skellies are playing pranks like this! And Marjorie's in on it, too.) She can make out bits of Inez's lecture about how Juno styled the buttons of her shirt and still isn't sure if it's okay for her to turn around. There's the temptation to sneak a look for sure, but another part of her is much too mortified at the possibility of getting caught. It'd be like admitting something she's not sure she's even ready to admit to herself.

It's only after Lettie hears her name that she turns around again and-- wow. (She almost drops her towel in shock and has to clutch it tightly so it doesn't slip.) It's magnetic, the way her attention is drawn to the pirate's abs, which are out on display with the way she (and Inez) initially styled the shirt. Abs. Finding her mouth has gone dry, she quickly snaps her chin up and tries to make it appear that she's assessing the outfit as a whole and not outright ogling what's barely hiding underneath. "Yes, yes of course." Lettie says, unsure of exactly what she's agreeing to-- but if it has to do with the way Juno looks right now, then yes. (Wow. She's a stunner in that shirt.) Except, uh, maybe she ought to check to make sure she's not agreeing to anything outright preposterous? Inez being Inez, she can't be too sure what the skeleton might have asked. (For all she knows, it could have had something to do with romantic poses again. But if she's posing next to Juno herself, say pressed up against her chest like she's on the cover of one of those spicy romance novels-- unfastening the remaining buttons, pushing the sleeves aside altogether-- ah-- no! No. Back up, Letts. That's not what you're doing here! They're not even attending this dinner as fake girlfriends, for star's sake.) Then she wheezes quietly. "Um. Wait, what was the-- could you repeat the question?"

Juno is flexing now and the red in Lettie's cheeks burns fiercer as she watches, entranced. It turns their swarm pink and red like an array of floating valentine hearts. "Dashing. Yeah." (Flexing just for her. Well, her and the multitude of undead insect eyes in the room with them. But the point is-- it's not for any mermaids, the Duchess, or ladies at a bar on a distant world. It's for her.) Or, uh, technically for Inez? But Inez made the request on her behalf. Because she likes her stupidly buff--

"The jacket, Ms. Olette. I think she looks better without it, don't you?" Inez repeats. The skeleton doesn't have eyebrows, but the suggestive eyebrow-wag makes itself apparent in her tone of voice regardless. Fuck. (Lettie had some kind of plan involving the jacket, she thinks, but she can't remember what it is because her gay faerie brain is preoccupied with muscles.)

"Either way is good I think. Both is good." Lettie's not sure what she's doing with her mouth right now, but she sure is making sounds with it. She glances up at Juno, uncharacteristically shy. "You can decide whether you want to wear the jacket or not." She nods and then looks down at herself again. "...And I'm still in a towel. Of course."

The faerie glides to the bathroom door, knocking frantically to get Marjorie's attention. "Hey! I need to get changed, too."

"I need a little more time, Ms. Olette! Surely you can change outside?"

"Marjorie." Lettie puffs her cheeks. "You're wearing my dress."

Once that's sorted out, Lettie manages to slip into the bathroom to change into her own outfit. Using the bathroom mirror (even though Inez went to the effort of bringing the gym mirror into the room) she takes nearly an hour deciding on which outfit she wants to walk out in. She settles for a black dress with diamond-shaped cuts in the sides for her stomach to peek out, experimenting with a few different blue patterns before ultimately deciding to keep it simple. Can't go wrong with the little black dress. It's a classic. (No sparkle, since her wings and cheeks already sparkle enough... and if Juno thinks the sparkle is excessive, then she doesn't need to overdo it with her outfit. Make up won't cover her freckles. I hope she doesn't think pointy ears are weird.) The faerie has a little fun with her heels, adorning them with decorative blue butterfly wings. This is only half the battle since she also needs to style her hair and fix her make up. She's extra attentive because she has a pirate to-- a point to prove.

This is all an endeavor without her setup at home (it always is) but Lettie finally manages to come up with something she deems satisfactory. (Especially the ambitious half up flower-braid style she goes for her hair.) Heh. She'd like to dare cubey 2.0 to try and make fun of her now!

When Lettie steps out of the bathroom, she's pretty sure that everyone has (rightfully) checked out by then considering how much time she took. (It has to have been more than an hour at least.) She approaches the gym mirror and does a little spin, assessing her look in its entirety. "Juju, come over here." (It's not that she wants to practice romantic poses with her or anything. It's just that...) "Let's make sure that we still match." Right! That's very important. Her toes curl in her shoes with anticipation. What will she think? Will she say anything?

 

[starboob]

Lettie? Why the fuck had she almost thought to refer to her as Lettie? Like, for starters she only revealed that nickname while they were drunk––just like she only agreed to being friends while drunk––and, even if all of that still stands (Juno still isn’t totally, completely, and one hundred percent sure about that), she specifically said that only her closest friends call her that; meaning that vampire dork and electric blue faerie from a youth that was never theirs. Not Juno, the homicidal pirate.

However, it’s hard for the pirate to remain too in her head when she notices that the faerie is standing in front of her in nothing but a towel. She swears that her heart nearly gives out then and there. A strained, barely audible noise comes from her throat and she can feel Inez taunting her with her stupid little eye glow. She drops her flex and elbows the skeleton in retaliation for her meddling, on the verge of hissing something at her, but then she remembers that Olette is right there and she doesn't particularly want her thinking that she is needlessly cruel. (Even if they are just bones, her friend (she’s pretty sure) seems to care a lot about the feelings of things that don’t really have feelings.) She already regrets the elbow now that she remembers this.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the remorse disappears from Juno when she finally gets over her own hang-ups and notices the way that Olette is staring at her. Her eyes aren’t filled with horror upon seeing the gross scar on her chest. They’re filled with something, but that something is a mystery to Juno. (Well, no. That’s not true. She knows this look very well having been on the receiving end of it plenty of times with plenty of other women––most of whom have long forgotten names and faces. It’s just that she’s scared to name it when it’s coming from Olette, because what if she’s wrong? What if, on her fancy ass planet, this look is just… a casual look or something? That planet seems extra enough, from her brief glimpses, that it could very well be the case! Although some part of her knows she’s doing some wild mental gymnastics to deny the obvious.) The way their demon bugs start to flicker like red and pink club lights should also clue Juno into what might be going on in the faerie’s mind, but this too is something she chooses to remain ignorant of. Even the demure look she gives should tell the pirate everything, and still she can’t accept the facts in front of her. (Uninvited, her mind fills with images of throwing Olette onto the mattress, climbing on top of her… She wonders if she’d give her that same look.)

With the faerie back in the bathroom, she grabs the coat and pulls it over herself like armor––though not armor for herself, armor to protect the world (her faerie) from seeing more of her. She stands in front of the gym mirror (not even questioning why it’s been moved), scrutinizing herself. Her eyes narrow as she looks over her face, pushing her hair back to look at her scar before letting her shaggy mop of wet hair fall back in her face, indiscriminately trying to cover her scar with it.

“Are you sure, captain?” Marjorie chimes from directly behind Juno, causing the captain to jump. (She totally forgot about the fucking skeletons.) “I think you look so handsome when your hair is pushed out of your face.”

“Oh, joy,” she replies sarcastically. “Like I’m trying to impress an old bones like you.”

“So you’re trying to impress someone, hmm?” Inez butts in, communicating her brow waggles despite being brow-less. It’s somehow worse like this. “I think Ms. Olette rather likes your face. Here, let auntie Marjie and the former queen of the Skyward Palace help style you!”

After that, the pirate isn’t given much of a choice as her mutinous crew pulls her back towards the bed, sitting her down, to mess with her hair. Juno has no clue why she’s letting them do this or where they even got this audacity, but here she is, worrying over how she looks and letting fucking skeletons fix her up. It’s probably just because she doesn’t want to look like a complete toad standing next to Olette, who is probably spun from starlight. She’s going to look so goddamn good and Juno didn’t even get a clear look at whatever outfit she had been styling for herself. Honestly, she could wear a shapeless sack and probably make it look chic. Meanwhile, Juno knows she won't even compare. (Again, she’s never really cared about this stuff before and while she knows her looks have never come in the way of finding a woman for the evening, it’s just so different being Olette’s arm candy. The fucking Duchess has never even made Juno this fucking nervous and she’s a certified fox––but the Duchess is from Desdemonia. The standards are fucking different.)

It doesn’t take the skeletons long to fix her hair and they ultimately settle on pushing it back and giving it a slight pomp at the front. Juno doesn’t bother looking in the mirror, knowing already what she will see and that she won’t like it––no matter how much the bones insist she looks dashing, handsome, or princely––no matter how they pointedly gossip about the way Olette looked at the captain. She doesn’t hear it over her own comparisons and reminders of how different they are. ‘We can only be friends. That’s fine. Better friends than nothing at all.’ It’ll kill her to want more and not get it or want more and have it taken from her at the end of all of this anyway. It’s just better this way to settle.

By the time the faerie makes her entrance, Juno is hunched over on the bed with her fists clasped together near her mouth in contemplation. Her leg has been bouncing this entire time as knots tighten in her stomach. ‘This was a terrible idea. This isn’t me.’ The pirate’s scared to look up and over at Olette, knowing she’s going to like what she sees far too much. Far more than she should. Far more than is good for her.

But her avoidance cannot be forever, because the faerie has a petty challenge to win and Juno’s somehow become a part of it. Naturally, she wants to see how they compare. (That’s not at all what she said, but it’s somehow what Juno hears.) She rubs her hands over her face, careful to not mess up her hair, which Inez and Marjorie both have insisted she not ruin, and rises from the bed. She keeps her face covered this entire time, maybe trying to avoid the inevitable, but when she finally drops her hands…

Her mind goes blank.

There’s a full ninety seconds where Juno doesn’t speak or move––her heart might have stopped beating entirely and she sure as Hell isn’t breathing. Her face doesn’t betray what she’s thinking; it can’t, because she’s not thinking anything at all. She’s just staring. Ogling. It’s a good thing she’s only staring at Olette through her reflection because a direct hit might end captain Juno on the spot. (She dies at this moment. All hope for keeping the faerie at arms length die, because she wants nothing more than to fold herself over and over until she’s the right shape for her. Until she’s enough for her.)

She somehow remembers how to walk again, or maybe she’s being pulled by the force of gravity itself, a planet to her star, and finds herself standing slightly behind Olette. She still refuses to look at herself in the mirror, but she’s fine only looking at Olette.

“Say something, captain,” Marjorie or maybe Inez goads.

“Blue’s my favorite color.” (“Something else, captain dingus!”) Juno, despite being starstruck, manages to flip whoever said that the bird from behind her. “This… uh… That cube…” Words, words, words!! What are they and what do they even mean!? Juno is lost in a sea of helpless noises because she can’t think while looking at Olette and she can’t bring herself to look away. She's doomed. “Magnets.” (This is just like the "shit bananas" comment all over again.) Talking shouldn’t be this hard! Olette is just a person, a very pretty person, but still a person and she didn’t have any issues talking to her last night. Then again, she hadn’t been all done up like this last night and while she's always pretty, this really is next level.

If the pirate's cheeks weren't already burning before the sound of the two skeletons chortling reaches her, she’s pretty sure that now her face has noticeably raised the temperature of the room. She turns away from the mirror, effectively tearing her gaze from the faerie, and glares at the two skeletons, snapping her eyes over to the door to get them to leave. They pointedly shut the door behind them as they do so, giggling like a pair of school girls with the hottest gossip. Juno pretends she doesn’t notice and turns back to Olette, deciding to not say a word for fear of sounding like a fucking dweeb.

With the room cleared, she allows the faerie to make a few final touches to her outfit––this mostly involves letting her adjust the collar of her shirt and jacket the way she deems is best, fixing the color of the shirt to make sure that it matches her hair perfectly, and then offering a bandana to go around her arm. The bandana is really the only thing that Juno seems to have input on as she moves it from her arm to wrist. She refuses to say why she wants it this way, and refuses to wear it anywhere else. (The truth is, she knows she’s bound to lose the jacket at some point this evening––she has a habit of giving them to the faerie, to the point she’ll soon be out of coats if she keeps this up––and she wants to make sure she keeps the bandana. It's her favorite color, is all.)

Even after their outfits are settled, there are still a couple more hours until dinner. This is unsurprising since Olette had been insistent on an early start, so Juno quietly suggests they take a walk to kill time (she does this by silently nudging her to follow her). She still remains rather quiet and she’s still unable to take her eyes off of the faerie––so much so that the faerie has to stop her from straight up walking into trees or bushes. (Their demon swarm follows them, providing a buzzing ambiance behind them.) Dressed up like this, it's hard to not imagine this like a date––even if Juno is convinced that Olette will never view her in such a light. Still, it's nice to pretend in the privacy of her mind. It's harmless, too. (It feels so pathetic to be so helpless like this and yet the pirate cannot stop herself. Olette looks so damn beautiful and she wants her, bad. More than that, she wants to continue caring for her because she's so fucking precious and deserves the worlds. ...Juno is going to get hurt, but she can't protect herself being this close to a shining, burning star. The choice has been made against her will and all she can hope for is a gentle let down, when it eventually comes out that her feelings have exceeded that of being just friends.)

After a while, she manages to ask Olette a few questions, having rehearsed them in her head several times. She asks about her hair and how she got it to look like a flower; she asks about her second favorite color, since she already knows her first favorite color is pink; she asks about her favorite foods, her favorite world they’ve visited, her favorite, her favorite, her favorite. Each question adds a year to her sentence, digs her further into a grave, but she doesn’t mind. It’s easier to forget about her concerns when Olette is gliding right next to her. She mostly asks about the easy things, because she doesn’t know how to go deeper and it’s just nice to talk to her, though she’d much rather just listen to her talk. She wonders what topics might really get the faerie going without a care and just as she’s trying to think of something deeper, Abigail and the cube find them.

Abigail rings the cube like a dinner bell and announces, “Bone apple teeth!”

The pirate gives up on supplying her catchphrase and settles for rolling her eyes as the landscape changes around them. Rather than being teleported back into the ship, however, they remain in the forest and a long table made from woven tree roots pushes itself up from the ground, complete with matching chairs. In a show of bursting ocean bubbles, a food spread materializes along the length of the table––there are muscles, bright red lobster tails, crabs, prawns, grilled tentacles, several different kinds of crispy cooked fish, rice dishes, pasta dishes, all of it seafood themed––it’s a lot for just two people and Juno recognizes nothing. Well, except for the tentacles and she's not sure she wants to eat those; or maybe she does, as belated revenge.

Before they are seated, a light beams down at the head of the table and a second cube (the baby cube?) descends from the sky in a shower of glittering bubbles. Juno isn’t sure if this is her imagination or not, but she swears she can hear an angelic choir singing in the background. "Welcome, my dumpster fire saviors. Your shirts look presentable."

 

[ellarose]

Your shirts look presentable. Your shirts look presentable. Yourshirtslookpresentable!?

The afternoon had been going so pleasantly until then, too. Lettie's vision blazes red as she proceeds to send bomberfly after bomberfly at cubey's tasteless baby, exploding it and all the worlds until they're nothing but a sad little pile of ashes. (The cost is high, but at least the faerie avenges herself. The end.) Okay, no, it obviously didn't go down like that, but she does preoccupy herself with the fantasy to keep herself from doing something she might actually regret later, biting her glossy lip so hard it nearly bleeds. I'm gonna throttle it. She thinks, finding that her inner voice sounds a lot like her pirate impressions in this moment. I'm gonna fucking throttle that fucking cube. What the fuck does it think it is, anyway? Appearing in those extra, sparkly bubbles? (Never mind the fact that she is an extra and sparkly faerie. An extra sparkly faerie if you will.) Fine, she'll give the fucking sparkles a pass-- but highlighting its own entrance with a choir? That is clearly taking it over the top!

"This isn't a shirt." Lettie gestures down at her carefully curated outfit. The faerie knows with absolute certainty that she looks more than good. She's a total knockout! If she didn't already believe it herself, then Juno's reaction told her everything she needed to know. It told her everything. (Because Juno's reaction is everything. Whenever she thinks back on it, her heart flutters more fervently than any of the butterflies living in her chest. With the pirate's hair pushed out of her face, she could see her eyes so clearly, see they way they looked at her, and-- oh stars. Ahem. Like the pirate said, cubes just don't know how to appreciate her. They probably think spheres are attractive.) Like, it's truly saying something that she had to save the pirate from trees (yet again) because she was so distracted with watching her as they walked. (Well, Juju walked and she glided. Same difference.) It'd been so nice, too, before they were interrupted and brought here. Because more than just looking at her, Juno is showing more interest in getting to know her, following her lead since that morning by asking about her favorite things. Now she knows that her second favorite color is violet, that she likes having breakfast foods for dinner, and that she liked the candy-currency world best so far because she was able to have breakfast foods for dinner. (And, uh... she'd even admitted, however shyly, that it was because it'd been nice to just sit and chat. Just like they were doing right that moment.) "But I guess I can't expect a cube who was literally born yesterday to know the difference!"

"I am more than a millennium older than you, Olette Lycoris Radiata." Cubey 2.0 says disaffectedly, turning an elaborate ballerina spin as the remaining bubbles burst into sparkles that rain down around it like glitzy party confetti. "And like the splendiferous merfolk I serve, I can see through your shallow fairfolk trickery. You are wearing a shirt."

The cube takes this point a step further, somehow shutting down her glamour for a split second to reveal what's underneath all the magic-- the shirt, the white hair and eyes. Lettie takes a sharp, horrified breath when she realizes this (she really might explode everything at this rate) before it shimmers and quickly rearranges itself back into her painstakingly created outfit. A bright red of embarrassment singes her cheeks and the faerie shifts uncomfortably, caught somewhere between wanting to actually throttle cubey 2.0 and wanting to disappear altogether. This has gone somewhere beyond just a petty exchange now, reaching deeper beneath the surface. I'm not shallow. One part of her thinks while the other confirms, Yes, I am. I'm the worst. She was raised on make up and illusions, on tricking the world into believing she was anything other than what she was. Shallow or not, associating the fairfolk with petty trickery is such a shitty stereotype-- even if the world they live in forces them to embrace it in order to survive.

"Splendiferous?" Lettie scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest as if to put a shield between herself and this cube's illusion-breaking gaze. Of course an asshole of this scale would be an ally of the fucking fish bitches. Of course! "It's like you went looking in the dictionary for the most pretentious word you could find." Yeah and it's seriously pissing her off! Resentment builds inside of her the more she thinks about it. "...I don't consider it trickery, by the way. Some clothes are made out of fabric and some are made out of magic. It's not like I-- I mean, everyone already knows what I actually look like." She laughs as if that might make that admission easier. (It doesn't.) "Who am I going to fool?"

"Yourself, perhaps?" The mer-cube supplies with the indifference of a god. Lettie blinks once. Twice. The insects swarm do the same, their buzzing becoming some type of ominous as the faerie's rage builds. This cube has chosen violence.

"...Okay, that's it." Lettie steeples her fingers, pressing hard as if all of her rage sits in her fingertips, before lunging for one of the platters on the table. She grabs one of the fried tentacles in a fist and chucks it at the cube. The little bastard floats down so it flies right over it and hits a tree instead. It sighs as it continues to dodge this way, up, down, right, and left as the faerie continues flinging the copious amounts of tentacles at it. None of them hit their mark and they start to pile up on the ground. (Inez and Marjorie appear but just as quickly disappear, walking backwards the moment they catch sight of the chaos.) "Fuck you! I thought this was supposed to be a dinner, not some kind of psychoanalysis!" She snaps, stabbing a tentacle towards the cube as if to use it like a sword. Unfortunately for her, it flops in a limp and unthreatening way. "I think you're the real dumpster fire. For instance, what's up with this theme? Seafood in a forest? It clashes just like fur with a bikini, you know. Like, are you hot or are you cold? It doesn't make any sense!"

"As I thought. It seems you must endure more training if you wish to survive your mission..." Cubey 2.0 twists as if to shake their head like a disappointed mentor. (Or a pretentious asshole sounds more accurate.) The tentacle in Lettie's hand suddenly glows, growing more tiny tentacles and turns into some kind of freakish tentacle hand that grabs ahold of her wrist. ("Ew, gross!") The tentacles she threw start gathering together on the ground to create a freakish monster. Seriously. What the fuck...!? The hand gripping her wrist attaches itself to the monster. It proceeds to dangle her in the air like a doll before effortlessly tossing her so she crashes across the length of the long dinner table and slips off on unceremoniously on the other side. "By confronting your weaknesses."

Lettie flutters her wings to help pull herself slightly upright, struggling to pull herself upright as she blinks stars and grains of rice from her eyelashes. Bringing a hand to her throbbing head, she cringes when she feels a slimy piece of pasta and shrimp in it. Ew, ew, ew! (After all that hard work, too.) She finds herself torn between exploding everything and lying on the ground to give up altogether. She's a mess, covered in all the food she just crashed through. The monster comprised of fried tentacles grows more tentacles outward, elongating until it towers over them like a colossal giant. Before the tentacle thing can reach for her again, though, a wall of furious demon insects stands tall in its path to block it. The forest gradually flickers and fades away, leaving a steely world comprised of a bunch of cubes like the one they played that game show in. Another shitty hero test? If that's the case, then she'd have really preferred they go for karaoke again...

"You are incredibly short, Olette, but your fuse is even shorter." The cube continues to mock her from above. Fucking hell. She hates it so much. A screen appears on the wall and begins playing footage, very much like the screens from the game show before played reels of scenes taken from other worlds. (And with time to truly reflect on the existence of said footage... yeah, it's fucking weird.) "...You guys are creeps." Lettie informs them all (the cubes and robots, that is) with a huff.

"Oh boo-fucking-hoo, did we offend your fragile sensibilities? So what if women are fighting for their survival now!? Hell yeah we are! That's what we deserve!" The footage shows Lettie flipping that volcano sky deity the bird. (She did look pretty hot back then, with her darker red hair and black adventuring outfit. It's not her usual style but she likes to think she pulled it off. Juno is wearing pink, because she had gotten pissed at her and turned her armor pink. The opposite of now, where Juno's willingly in an outfit she chose with her preferences and favorite color in mind.) "Get with the times, gramps! I can't wait to see the look on your face when two women break into Dominia and kick your ass! Women are beautiful and deserve so much better than smoky trash deities like you!" It flips over to them on Desdemonia, going up against Ripir. "How dare you fuck with Lady!?" The Lettie of the past proceeds to fearlessly taunt foes that are about a hundred times her size. It's strange watching it unfold now that she's not in the moment herself-- the way she goes after the cube in spite of the danger and the strained way that Juno tells her to leave the cube before she makes a total disaster of herself and falls into a hole.

"You both have this problem. And you will need to learn to think before you act and speak, because we will be sending you back to help the 'trash deity' before their world falls to ruination." Cubey 2.0 continues to explain. The footage turns to static before playing the scene of all of them free-falling towards the pit of lava waiting for them below with her bug of a feather following in a rage. "You both would have perished on that world had the maestro not saved your asses." The bastard cube continues to show them scenes of when the cube saved them from dying at the last moment. "Seriously, you two would have died a very long time ago. You need to get it together."

Lettie gasps as some of the squares that make up the floor open up, including the one underneath her, revealing scattered pits of lava. (She quickly flies into the air to avoid falling in, watching as the cubes scatter and build themselves up into an obstacle course around them. The other dishes turn into an array of haphazard, horrific sea monsters. One resembles a pasta yeti that wears... none other than a fucking fur bikini. The cube has obviously done this specifically to piss her off.) "This seems more like a physical challenge to me!" Lettie frowns. This isn't putting any of their conversational skills to the test! It's so nonsensical that it's basically on par for the cubes, though. She flies over to Juno, their demon swarm following dutifully behind her. "Whatever. I kinda feel like beating the shit out of everything. What do you think?" She's puffing her cheeks, clearly annoyed about the state she's in. "We need to avenge my outfit, Juju!"

 

[starboob]

Olette Lycoris Radiata. Olette Lycoris Radiata. Olette Lycoris Radiata.

Juno barely registers that the second cube has insulted the outfits that Olette Lycoris Radiata has put together for them as she frantically tries to commit to memory her impossible to remember last name. In fact, the pirate looks pinched in her deep pensive state as she repeats the name to herself over and over again, fearing that if she stops thinking of it for even a second, she will forget it and revert back to something like Olette Lycan-cherish-radio. ‘Fuck. Wait. No, don’t think of that. Olette Licorise Radiata. Olette Licorise Radiata. Olette Licorise Radiata.’ (She’s failing already and doesn’t even know it. But, to be fair to the pirate, she’s also simultaneously trying to commit to memory all of the new facts she’s learned about the faerie; she’s especially stuck on trying to figure out what “breakfast food” entails. She just barely remembers Olette eating something squishy and soft looking on the candy planet, but what the fuck were those soft squishies? She hadn’t thought to sample it because, back then, she’d been rather suspicious of foods outside of fries. She was so fucking stupid! Now this is biting her in the ass and––fuck, she needs to go back to thinking about Olette’s name.)

‘Olette Lycoris Ramboto.’ She continues her repetitions, completely ignorant to the faerie’s rising rage, barely even noticing that the cube has dissed her and crossed a line by taking away her illusions. (Juno does notice it, absently, but she doesn’t really think anything of it because she likes her natural look and she likes her whether she’s in tatters or glitzed out.) Most impressive is that she entirely misses the food fight, only really noting that Olette looks cute when she’s angry––something she’s always known, but it’s different when that anger is not directed at her.

Juno only truly notices that something is up when the faerie––her faerie––is tossed down the length of the table by some freakish tentacle fuck. (Impressive considering the last tentacle fuck she fought had been so garish she previously thought nothing else could compare, but there really are no words to describe this one that is made of their dinner.)

“Hey––!!” Juno snaps, snapping out of her mental Olette Lick-curious Randomia study session. Her hands roll into fists, ready to fight and defend her faerie, as she has so many times before, but those demonic bugs intervene before she can. She blinks, stupefied. “Well…” That is certainly useful and, at the same time, makes the homicidal pirate wonder if she is of any use to the faerie anymore. (She wants to be more than that to her of course, she just doesn’t know how so she’s still resorting to old tactics.)

There’s not even time for her to turn and direct herself towards the source of this chaos (the second little asshole) as the world flickers faster than she can react, revealing its true cube nature. (She’s willing to bet they’ll both agree that cubes are the worst fucking shape.) Her brows raise when one of the steely walls transforms into a screen, playing back highlights from their (mis)adventures with a focus on Olette’s temper. ‘Huh… She’s hot.’ Still, while this compilation of Olette’s hottest moments is entirely captivating, the pirate is also painfully reminded of all of those near losses. While she hadn’t cared much in the beginning that Olette might die, and she even recalls being disappointed when the faerie would come out victorious, sitting on top of a pile of her enemies, seeing it all over again only causes anguish to swirl in her stomach. She really could have fucking lost Olette to monsters like Ripir.

She hates to admit it, but second cube is right; both or one of them would have died long ago without the first cube intervening. While a past Juno might not have minded, that Juno doesn’t exist anymore and she’s not sure what she would do without her faerie. She figures that the cube would just find another faerie to annoy her, but she doesn’t want to be annoyed by anyone unless her name is Olette Lickeris Randita. She’s earned that exclusive privilege. And they promised each other they wouldn’t die.

The duplicated asshole then goes on to point out that Juno has this same problem and while she’s inclined to argue, she doesn’t want a replay of all the times she punched monsters, gods, guardians, and sharks in the face. No need to highlight her flaws; they’re already on display as it is. But this reminder does enough to have her reconsider her strategies, especially with the sacred oath she made. She meant every fucking word of it; she’s got to do better to protect her faerie.

Juno reluctantly nods in agreement with the assessment. Of course, her solidarity with the second cube only lasts so long as it then chooses violence and disappears the panels beneath her feet, forcing her to skip backwards so that she doesn't fall into a pit of lava. She shoots the thing a glare then rolls her eyes as it also turns the rest of their dinner into weird inedible beasts. (She used to suspect that food was trying to kill her, but this really takes that fear to the next level.) Her stomach growls, annoyed.

“You want to…” She trails off and looks between the faerie and the various food challengers. While Juno would ordinarily be happy to punch things in the face, she can’t help thinking that this is not the way to go given that the second cube has literally just called them both out on having a short fuse. The pirate captain suspects there’s more to this obstacle course than the monsters in front of them. (The question now is does Juno want to be the voice of reason? So far, she’s been the punch of reason behind many of their near death experiences and, again, she doesn’t want a playback reel to prove that. Besides, lately she’s also been reminded that she wasn’t always so feisty. She couldn’t be as a fucking runt.)

The pirate shakes her head and reaches to thread her fingers through Olette’s hair, removing the remaining pieces of cooked sea creatures and strands of pasta from her hair. She finishes by de-puffing her cheeks between her palms, effectively cradling her face. “No––I mean, yeah. Fuck yeah, I’ll always fight for you,” even if she sort of missed the specific insults hurled at her faerie, she will unquestioningly use her fists on Olette’s behalf. She established that when she punched the shit out of that shadow fucker for trying to touch her wings. “But that piece of shit 2.0 literally just fucking said we need to think before we fucking punch faces and talk shit and, fuck, I love breaking rules, but I’m just fucking hungry right now. We’ve hardly eaten all day,” she complains, sounding surprisingly childish. It’s amusing coming from the pirate. “Let’s just see what that pasta fucker wants.”

With some of the panels missing from the floor, Juno has to hop over some of the pits of lava to get over to the pasta man. Once she’s close enough to talk, but far enough away to rear a punch if needed, she calls out to the thing. “Hey! What the fuck do you want?” This is the pirate being diplomatic and she thinks she’s doing a good fucking job considering she’s only used one “fuck” (so far). Olette said that’s polite.

The pasta monster, being made of pasta, doesn’t articulate what it wants and immediately thrusts its arm out to shoot bullets of pointy tubes (penne) at her; being that the bullets are made of pasta, they just thwap against the pirate’s chest. Still, just because it doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean that the pirate’s patience isn’t being tested. She raises a brow and then stares at the monster, unimpressed. “I haven’t even punched you in the face yet! You’re fucking cheating! You’re supposed to, I dunno,” she shrugs, “say what you want. Use your fucking words because I’m using fucking mi––ack!” The beast successfully shoots a piece directly down Juno’s throat, causing her to gasp and choke before she hocks it out of her mouth back at the pasta man, pointing her finger accusingly. “You’re on thin fucking ice, bitch.”

The thing scoffs and rolls its shrimps. (Eyes. It has shrimps for eyes.) Then it lunges for Juno, going to tackle her but the pirate steps to the side to avoid the offense to nature. “Alright, punk,” she seethes, her patience wearing thinner and thinner by the second. “I’ve fucking had it. I am not dying by pasta!” With that declaration the pirate fishes through her bag of bones for a molar, enchants it, and then hurls it over at the monster. Once lodged inside of its pasta body, Juno closes her fist, causing the molar to burst into a giant ball of spikes, exploding pasta and shrimp bits everywhere. (Olette may recognize this prank from the days when they used to prank each other.) The pirate laughs, “Take that motherfucker! You don’t get to mess with captain fucking Juno and fucking live to tell the tale, you wet noodle––”

More panels start to fall around Juno’s feet, trapping her on an island with lava on all sides. Then the world around them flashes to bright red. “What the fuck!?”

“Have you considered spicing up your catch phrase arsenal? I have a feeling I am going to get so bored hearing that.” The second cube sighs from above. “Congratulations on your miserable failure. Clearly, Finnigan was fishing for a compliment on her fur bikini outfit and you exploded her. Though I should not be surprised since your first response to seeing a pretty woman is to try and kill her.” The cube plays back a reel from her first meeting with Olette where she almost had her tossed overboard. Heat creeps up the pirate’s neck and she avoids the faerie’s eye.

She clears her throat. “I fucking asked Phineas,” (“Finnigan.”) “Fibbian what the fuck she wanted and she shot tubes at me and didn’t stop fucking attacking me! She fucking started it and she didn’t use her fucking words. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Die?”

“First of all,” the original asshole chimes in from the sidelines. “Language, captain. Cursing is very rude and will not help with your negotiations. Secondly, penne,” (“What the fuck was it shooting!?”) “is not deadly. You would have been fine. You need to work on your reactions––not everything is trying to kill you. For example, snowballs,” cue the clip from ice world, “are not deadly. Neither are cleverly placed buckets of water.” Cue another clip. “Or turning your entire crew and ship pink.” Yep, another clip. “Or stealing your bombs.” This clip is actually from a few hours ago when Olette had been fixing up her outfit. Juno immediately looks down at her belt, somewhat impressed this time rather than being irritated. 'What the fuck...'

“Alright,” the second cube claps (somehow). “Let’s start again! Remember, nerds, the point of this exercise is to practice your thinking.” The red light then switches off, returning the cube world back to its stark metallicness. With Juno still stuck on her island, she can only watch as a rice strongman with armor made of clams charges towards her faerie.