Realistic or Modern Phantom Voices | ellarose & Syntra

[Syntra]

“Come out, come out, little dove,” the demon teased, all too pleased with himself. “I promise, it’s not going to hurt! …too much, anyway. Once I rip all your neural connections apart, you won’t feel anything anymore. And, truly, wouldn’t that be for the best? It’s not like anybody will miss you, my dear. Raoul will mourn for a while, sure, but you know what his reaction will be in the end? Relief, little dove. You’ve always been a burden, and a burden you will remain. Without you there, the poor guy will finally be able to live a normal life. It isn’t him that my friends are hunting, you see? There will be no running, no constant name changes, no nothing. Finally, he shall be free of the curse. Do you not that for him, little dove? C’mon, time to stop fooling yourself into thinking that you’ve ever been more than fodder.”

…which, wow, wow, wow. Fucking pathetic, wasn’t it? The demon who, by the way, hadn’t even had the decency to introduce himself, sounded as if he had stolen some B-tier villain’s script! (Thea would have pointed it out, too, but her mouth was busy not fucking working. Like??? Usually, her tongue was the one muscle that didn’t mind performing on the Olympic level, buuut yeah, times changed and shit, apparently. Instead of behaving like it was supposed to, it betrayed her in favor of the demonic invader! Just you wait, Thea thought. Once this spectacle is over, I’ll show you who is the boss here, bitch. I’ll buy the spiciest chili peppers on the market, just an inch away from being illegal, and torture you till you fucking cry tears of blood! And, no, the fact that tongues didn’t have eyes wasn’t a factor here. Pulling off the… uh, the non-pull-off-able... was kinda Thea’s entire shtick! Once she was done with the organ, it would know who not to cross, and yup, that sexy, sexy menace’s name started with the letter T and ended with A. Guess who it was, huh?)

The sweet, sweet revenge fantasies did please her somewhat, yes, but they didn’t make her tongue any more obedient, nor did they give her more control over the rest of her own body. ‘Not my fucking fingers, bitch,’ Thea threatened, shaking her imaginary fist. ‘I’m gonna need those, you hear me? Like, how am I supposed to find a gf without my fingers?’ Thea the Fingerless would not look good on dating her dating profile, that much was obvious, and yes, the fact that she didn’t really see the need to actually sign up for one of those sites meant nothing. Absolutely nothing! (If anything, her lack of interest in that sort of thing could be interpreted as her having Someone SpecificTM in mind already, and that someone deserved the full gf experience! …theoretically speaking, of course. Haha. Hahaha. Anyway, regardless of the potential gf’s identity, one thing would always remain true-- a shiny beacon of truth in the otherwise grim, grim swamp of lies. And as for that truth? The balanced approach was everything, man. All her life, Thea had been its proponent, so no, she wouldn’t suddenly switch to relying on her fingers or her tongue only! That would be like… like always eating only one half of the apple and then throwing the rest away, or something similarly stupid.)

‘Well, that depends on little dove here, doesn’t it? I suppose we will see how much she truly treasures you, crow,’ he smirked, caressing her right thumb with the blade. (Ouch! Even that tiny, tiny contact was enough to make her bleed, so if he actually meant it? Yeeeeah, he could cut the finger off, no questions asked.) 'But what I wanted to say is, don't hold your breath. Why would anyone sacrifice themselves for someone as insignificant as you, hmm? So that you could continue annoying everyone unlucky enough to live on the same continent? Face it, Thea-- you're nothing. Not even your own mother hesitated before getting rid of you. Isn't it nice, in a way, that you can at least give your life some sort of purpose now? I think that... ah, there she is!' the bastard smirked, and cold dread filled Thea's stomach. No. No, no, no, no!!! Their story couldn't have an anticlimactic-ass ending like that, and-- 'Oh, but it can, crow. It can, and it will. She's sneaky, but not sneaky enough, you see? All this time, you've been but side characters in my story. You've been more interesting than the weaklings who died without struggle, I'll give you that, so I suppose I can pay more attention to you in my autobiography. How would you like to be described?'

Thea had no fucking idea, mostly because she'd never thought of herself in such a weirdly distant wait, but what she did know? That in her book, he demon would be referred to as King Dumbass IV! (The weight of the body on her back? Yeah, not hard to guess what was going on there. Clara! Clara who mirrored her method, and cared enough to not only not run away, but also cosplay a demonic toreador. Just, when had anyone given so many fucks about her? ...it made sense, really, that her heart skipped a few beats, and her cheeks colored scarlet.)

"You think I'm a master braider?" the brunette asked, uncharacteristically shy. "In case you're ever interested, I'm also a master kisser. It doesn't come up that often, though it should, if you ask me. Not to toot my own horn, but yeah. Wanna, uh, have a sample?" The demon receding into the background was probably a bigger deal than she made it out to be, especially given the sheer panic that was radiating off of him, but hey, gotta act while there was an opening. Like, these opportunities didn't just materialize out of thin fucking air, mate. (Her adrenaline levels were just high enough for her to do something this stupid, too, and... well. Clara kinda sorta holding her just felt nice, okay? Something about human warmth being the real drug, blah blah blah. Judge not, lest you be judged yourself!)

 

[ellarose]

In the moments suspended between Clara's action and Thea's reaction, the inside of her head was a mess. Burden. The word weighed as heavily on her shoulders as the definition implied. The demon often blathered on and on, spewing lies to serve his own cause... but some of those things he'd said? They had roots that twisted real deep down inside of her, someplace that hurt. Roots embedded in her heart, probably, that soft spot in her chest where most the hurt tended to stem from. Raoul. Perhaps she'd flung herself headfirst into this supernatural mystery in part to bypass thinking about the massive changes her life was undergoing in such a short span of time and how once again, that change would ripple out and affect him in turn. Again. Again, again, again she would turn into a burden-- and on top of that? She was worried that her panicked words weren't going to cut it. She hadn't had time to think, or plan, and would fail to get through to Thea and then they'd both be doomed because of her and her oh so bright idea to seek this place out--

Clara was caught mid-spiral when she finally heard the sound of Thea's voice. Her friend had taken on a different tone than usual, that was true, but it wasn't a bad different by any means. (You know, especially seeing as it wasn't a demonic different.) No, no, no. There's a safeness to the quiet of it. Rather than let go right away like all the other times, she couldn't help but cling a tighter to her with a sigh of unadulterated relief before letting go. Thank goodness. Immediately thereafter, she wobbled and sunk down to her knees, letting out a breathy laugh, half-hysteric, half-exhausted. Oh. She'd been so scared! Every part of her was wound so tightly with terror that the instant she knew it was safe, all those tight knots loosened and she couldn't quite support her own weight.

"Yeah? It was cute." Clara said matter-of-factly in regards to the braid once she calmed down. Then her brain began skipping a few beats ahead. Soaking wet clothes and hair plus cold weather equalled... getting sick, if she made it out of here alive. Now if she had a warm bed to return to, this wouldn't be that much of an issue. But seeing as their life involved hiding out in a stolen police car until they found something more concrete... ah. She would have to be especially careful. She tilted her head, gathering all of her hair over one shoulder to wring the water from it. Then she froze in her tracks when Thea's next words caught her attention. A master... kisser? Sample!?

Um. Apparently Clara's brain couldn't compute that as efficiently as everything else. It was overheating, much like the blush blooming over her face, on the verge of combusting. Thea suggesting that they kiss once plus Thea suggesting that they kiss twice equalled...? An outside observer might've been able to put it together. Clara, on the other hand-- She doesn't like me like that. She was adamant, her defense mechanisms kicking into high gear. That can't be it. Thea was suggesting that they kiss? Again? But why? They've only just met! Well... technically? (And yeah, they were already on the level that they were putting their lives on the line for each other, but-- but still! A silly little kiss wasn't just a silly little kiss. Especially if said kiss was shared with someone like Thea, who she already cared about... yes, and cared about to the extent that she would risk her life for her. Kissing could overcomplicate everything! With kissing comes attachment and acknowledging more feelings than she knew how to cope with. It introduced that painful, uneven balance where she let herself care too much... only to watch with dismay as the other person to laughed in her face the moment she let her guard down. They like the idea of her, sure. But nothing beyond that. Thea may prove that she's not like all the others, or like anyone else she's ever met for that matter... but that doesn't change the undeniable variable in those instances that Clara herself is not the sort of person that people fall in love with.)

Alarmed, Clara's gaze flickered down to Thea's lips and then away, as if she was afraid she'd get caught staring. When she swallowed, she discovered that her mouth was suspiciously dry. Her heart was fluttering and... ah. So that's how it was. It genuinely wasn't that she didn't want to kiss Thea. In fact, that's sort of-- really-- what scared her about it, you know? And it was all happening so-- so fast and-- Calm down. Get a grip. Once more, she had to remind herself that Thea had to have meant that comment lightly. She was being Thea! Just saying whatever harmless little thought popped into her head. Even if it was a jokingly flirtatious thought. With a cleansing breath of resolution, Clara seized back her composure and realigned her posture.

"Hmmm, I don't know. I still think you should get me dinner first." Clara pursed her lips. A playful glimmer passed through her eyes as she squinted them. Right. This is how she ought to handle these situations from here on out. If she dished it back lightly, surely it wouldn't be such a big deal anymore! Besides... if she and Thea were going to spend the foreseeable future together, she needed to steel herself to these patterns. With the voices, the supernatural nonsense, their real life crisis and this whole mystery? She'd likely break if she had something else to puzzle through on top of it all. That settled, she organized her priorities and looked Thea up and down for injuries. That's when she noticed her finger. "Oh, Thea. You're bleeding."

Clara hesitated to rip her... magicked costume dress? It might have represented a performance she resented, as well as that nefarious ringleader's vision, but clothes were clothes. It was a nice dress, all things considered. "Sorry." She apologized to the fabric, wincing as she tore her sleeve to create a makeshift bandage. Some sacrifices were necessary... especially when you didn't have immediate access to first aid. "All right. Let me see it." She pressed her lips together, all business. "...Speaking of which, how's your arm holding up? He didn't hurt you anywhere else, did he?"

 

[Syntra]

‘Before’ and ‘after’ pics were something Thea had always found kinda stupid, mostly because, all too often, the “””magical transformation”” consisted of the chick in question just discarding her glasses and cutting her hair. Just??? People were aware that it was the same-ass girl, right? Changing tiny details like that didn’t warrant a word as fucking melodramatic as ‘metamorphosis’-- the label should have been reserved for, like, butterflies, and maybe also for aliens who were wearing human skin. (In their case, Thea supposed, putting their costume away wouldn’t really be a change per se, but let’s not be too pedantic, okay? You didn’t need modifications on the molecular level if what was happening was d r a m a t i c as fuck, and Alien-tier shit definitely fit that criterion.) …anyway, despite her general dislike of the concept, Thea would have paid actual money to have those photos taken now. Of whom, you ask? Why, of herself, duh! They would be titled ‘Before the Grand Realization’ and ‘After the Grand Realization.’ Physically, she would of course be the same hottie as ever, though inside? Inside, Big ChangesTM were brewing, and some of that must have carried over into her expression as well.

(Getting Clara dinner first? No shit, man! Just, how could she have been this stupid? Offering kisses before going through all the usual steps was like… like buying a new game, and then complaining that your character started out as level 1. Nope, nope, nope, not how any of this worked! If you wanted all the level fucking 100 benefits, you had to put in the effort, dude. Thea had sorta of been blinded by the fact that literally everyone (read: like three people) had been falling all over themselves just to kiss her feet, but Clara? Clara was different. Clara knew what she wanted, too, and the brunette could respect that. High-tier romance, huh? As in, rose petals, surprise chocolates and shit? Okay, not her usual way of approaching this, but also not unreasonable. Thea Holloway most certainly could deliver, and you could bet your ass that it would blow Clara’s socks off! …also, also, also, man, if she had ever doubted that her friend was open to Something MoreTM, then those doubts fucking evaporated in that very instance. Good! Normally, the brunette might have had certain, hmm, reservations about destroying Clara’s life with her bullshit, but yeah, that ship had kinda sailed already, with the police searching for them and what not. So, instead of crying over spilt milk, they could, like, gather it and pour it into their cereals! …or something. Look, she had never been that good with metaphors.)

“Sure, sure,” Thea beamed. “Just you wait, it will be the most epic dinner that you’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting.” Till she, ha ha, gave her other things to taste! Mindful of Social ConventionsTM, though, the brunette decided to file that joke away for later-- you know, until they were comfy enough with each other to be one hundred percent sure that such comments wouldn’t serve as a basis for a restraining order. Yup, that would be an inglorious end to their… relationship, she guessed? For sure, for sure, a relationship! (….shit, did that make her heart flutter in her chest. How long had it been since she’d used that word unironically, hmmm? Like, for herself, and not for other people? Too long for her to remember, really.) “It will be a concert for your taste buds, or something. Is that how the cool kids speak today?” ‘Cause Thea decidedly was a cool kid, thank you very much! If anything, the stay at the asylum only increased her coolness factor-- like, they could shoot a fucking movie based on her experiences. A movie! How cool was that? Better than owning ten brand name hoodies, or whatever fucked up standard was now being used to measure whether you were worshiping capitalism hard enough. “I’m fine,” Thea waved her hand. “I mean, I got burned, but that was before he hijacked my body, so I guess it doesn’t count. At this point, I’m used to suffering, too. Like, being completely okay would just feel wrong at this point, you feel me? I would get all freaked out because it could only signify that something off the charts terrible is gonna happen. Remember, Clara: when the blow hasn’t come for a while, it means that Fate is just putting on spiked gloves!” And, as if the celestial authorities wanted to confirm that theory, something in the shadowy corner moved. ‘Careful, careful, careful,’ a new voice said. ‘Shadows are webs.’

“Shadows… are webs?” Thea raised her eyebrow, before glancing at Clara. “I see, we are entering the realm of fucking dadaism here.” Surprisingly enough, however, the warning turned out to be much more literal than anticipated. Because, when she tried to get her eyes to focus in the piss-poor lighting? A sticky, shadowy tendril shot up from the darkness, and wrapped itself around her. “Ah, what the actual…” ….fuck, she would have said, but the words died in her fucking throat. A completely normal reaction, wouldn’t you agree? At least to seeing a spider the size of a fucking pony, with a pink carnival mask over its fangs!

“Ah, good, good,” the creature clapped its numerous hands, “finally, someone suitable appears! You wouldn’t believe, young lady, how rude the tourists are there days. A performance here, a carousel there-- nobody is interested in good, old haunted towers anymore, I’m afraid. Can you imagine how much trouble that got me into? For the longest time, I’ve had to feed my own children to Mister Dragon,” she nodded sadly. “Something about it being my responsibility to choose better hunting grounds. Can you believe? Pfft! Anyway, you’re here now, so I guess Suzy will survive. You don’t mind me borrowing your friend for a while, do you?” she winked at Clara. “Well, okay, for the eternity, but that’s almost the same thing. You can have her bones once he’s done with her, though!”

 

[ellarose]

Something in Clara's chest fluttered when Thea beamed at her. Something she cared not to overanalyze for her own peace of mind. Instead, she moved on to the question she could articulate a response to. "Wouldn't know. I was never a cool kid." She supplied with a shrug of her shoulders, blunt and unbothered. People've labeled her with ice queen once upon a time, sure, but no-- never cool. It was a fact and one that she could not care less about. (Hell, she kind of had to acknowledge her social standing by the time she made the decision to scrape by from commission to commission, designing costumes primarily used for theatre productions and larping. And deep down she enjoyed those events. Even if she only ever experienced them vicariously, patching up costumes and applying fantasy make-up. This wasn't to say that people who attended these events weren't cool, either. She's seen her fair share of stunning lady pirates, warriors and knights. It wasn't humanly possible to lay eyes on a woman like that and think that she wasn't cool.) Ugh. Now's not the right time to think about all of this, though. Especially since it was on the verge of giving her an existential crisis. The projects she worked day and night on felt insignificant in a place like this. All those tedious, painstaking details it took to ensure immersion and a successful production were summoned with just a snap of the ringleader's fingers! It was enough to boil any artist's blood, really. "You thrashed a zombie with an axe yesterday." Ah. Was her mouth was dry again, or was that just her? She rubbed the back of her neck, hoping her cheeks weren't turning an obvious shade of red."...I don't think you have to worry about looking uncool."

Ignoring Thea's attempt at waving her off, Clara was gently firm as she took her hand anyway and tied the makeshift bandage around her finger.

"Burns...?" Clara frowned, visibly troubled. These ghosts have no problem making Thea their personal punching bag, do they? She's equipped to treat some cuts and burns, sure, but what if the injuries get worse and worse with time? It's not like they can afford to visit an actual doctor! Setting those concerns aside, she decided it was a better use of her time to think about what was right in front of her. Briefly, she thought back to those dark days of treating cigarette burns and... "There might've been some lotion in the first aid kit. I can also bandage them and--"

Once again, however, the universe decides to point the metaphorical dagger at Thea. Clara, for all extents and purposes, was fed up with it. They've only just reunited! Staying together beyond this point is crucial, if they want to move forward and make it out of here alive. Think of something, Clara! Think, think, think...

"I do mind, on the contrary." Clara said levelly, like a teacher patiently dealing with a toddler. "I understand your plight, Miss Spider, but you may not take my friend." She'd summoned up some decent improv last time, didn't she? Scrambling around for her stake in this situation, once again, wasn't going to cut it. She wasn't a fighter and wouldn't get anywhere pretending that she was. Again... not a cool kid. Not on par with the lady pirates and warriors and knights of the world. Thea, however... hm. "Don't you see? By doing this, you're only prolonging the inevitable. The dragon will become hungry once more and poor little Suzy will be at risk again." She spoke assuredly enough-- but in truth, she was shaking in her metaphorical boots. Knights. Dragons. Might as well put her creativity to good use, right? In order to compete in a world like this, she would have to weave a storyline like a web of her own. "My friend here is a knight and an impressive one at that. If you offered her a weapon, she could eliminate the source of your grief once and for all. Instead you would squander the opportunity and deliver her right to him?" She crossed her arms and shook her head slowly. "Change is scary, I know, but if you perpetuate the cycle like this... there'll be no end in sight for you. Hunger can never be sated completely. He'll demand more and more until he's taken everything from you. I can tell you're a loving mother, Miss Spider... therefore I'm sure you've already considered the long-term risks?" Moment of truth, she supposed. "It doesn't have to be like this. We could help you stop him once and for all if we work as allies."

Ah. That feeling when all your hope for the future rests on striking an alliance with a creepy spider, right? Hahaha... Good grief. Clara could not believe this was her life right now.

 

[Syntra]

Jesus fucking Christ. Couldn't they get, like, five seconds of peace? Every good plot followed the rising action - climax - falling action schematic, but nooo, it seemed that the demon knew literally nothing about how the art of storytelling worked! (Had he been just slightly more competent, he would have given them more time to process their newest trauma-- you know, partially because having one's body stolen was a Big DealTM, but also for the sweet, sweet emotional pay off. Wouldn't it have been better for literally everyone involved? Thea could have gazed into Clara's eyes, Clara could have realized that she had been the love of her life all along, and the demon... well, the demon could have feasted on popcorn in the background, really. 'Ahahaha, now you actually have something precious to lose, mortal worms! I'm going to crush you,' he would have said, and it would have been dramatic and shit. As it was, though? Man, her situation totally lacked the emotional fucking punch! Yeah, yeah, spiders were scary, and under Normal CircumstancesTM, Thea would have probably jumped out of her skin, but let's just say that recent events had, uh, put things into perspective for her. ...it turned out that certain elements were scarier than crazed arachnids, you see? Like the things lurking in her own shitty mind. Yeah, no way was anything external ever going to terrify her again!)

"Back off, pal," Thea recommended to the creature. "Like, my entire life, I've only ever eaten junk food. I'm allergic to broccoli and avocado and all the healthy bullshit in general, sooo I'm pretty sure there's grease in my body instead of blood at this point. You gonna serve that to your boss, huh? Well, don't be surprised when he chops your fucking head off! My whole existence can be classified as biohazard, I'm pretty sure." ...yeah, yeah, she may have been lying, but so fucking what? Thea Holloway and truth had never been an iconic duo, and now, when confronted with the prospect of being eaten by a motherfucking dragon, she felt even less inclined to lean into her goody two shoes tendencies. Nope, nope, nope! She was going to lie so hard it would make any decent polygraph explode, in fact. "Plus, a dragon has tried to eat me once already," well, okay, it had been a lizard and it had bit her finger when she'd tried to catch it as a kid, but hey, close enough, "and it didn't fucking end well for him. I slaughtered the bitch." And by 'slaughtered,' Thea actually meant 'caught it in a jar and released it in the woods,' though these tiny, tiiiiny alterations were covered by the creative license. "So, like, I'm sure that trying to feed me to another dragon would just be bad luck for him. If I don't kill him, then the cholesterol will do it. Mark my fucking words!"

Clara, too, chipped in with her arguments, and the spider appeared... well, confused, if nothing else. "I haven't thought about the long-term," she admitted. "Mainly because tomorrow, Suzy will be an adult and she'll probably try to eat me, but eh, that's life. Honestly, I can't blame her-- I've eaten a fair share of my family as well back in my day." Ooookay, was this dumbass spider trying to one-up her? 'Cause, like, Thea hadn't thought that she could find a family more fucked up than hers, but here they fucking were. "You may be right, I suppose. The employment benefits aren't even that good. Is not being burned alive a benefit, even? God, I have no idea how my life ended up like this. I went to college and everything!" Blah blah blah, how very sad, but the brunette might be able to sympathize with her more readily if she, you know, didn't threaten to feed her to a man-eating monster. Yup, that tended to influence one's empathy supply in pretty drastic ways!

"Alright, Miss Dragon Killer," the spider put her on the ground, "we can try it your way. Kill the old bastard, and I won't have to kill you. Sadly, I don't have any asbestos suits," waaaait, the bitch unironically breathed fire?! "but I'm sure your determination will protect you, or something. Or was it the power of friendship? Honestly, I hope you have some good friends, then." Okay, okay, okay! So, if Thea understood this correctly, she was supposed to a) slaughter a motherfucking dragon, b) slaughter a motherfucking firebreathing dragon, c) slaughter a motherfucking firebreathing dragon without any sort of equipment. Great, just great! Wouldn't accepting her fate as his dinner be a more peaceful way to go, after all...? No way, I haven't cooked that dinner for Clara yet!

"Fine," she rolled her eyes, "but can't I at least get some cool-ass sword? You can't seriously expect me to break his nose with my fists alone, mate. Or like, you can, I guess, but I promise you that you will be severely disappointed."

"Why should I provide one?" the spider narrowed her many eyes in response, as if Thea had just asked her to give her one of her own legs as a gift all of a sudden. "There's a sword in your friend's heart, you know. A giant, dragon-killing sword, in truth. I can see it, as plain as day. She only has to give it to you!"

 

[ellarose]

“Inside my heart. Right. Cool.” Clara repeated, unmoved. Then she immediately pivoted to dismiss it, reassigning her thoughts to pursue a more productive course of action. As willing as she might have seemed to roll with the nonsense in these places, the idea of carrying a sword in her heart was where she had to draw a line in the sand! Her heart wasn't an old storage trunk. And a long, pointy, deadly— did she mention deadly— weapon would not be emerging from her chest. No way. Thea needed a weapon, yes, and they would certainly find one elsewhere! Especially foreseeable in a place such as this, which surely had to be teeming with a treasure trove of props and… she walked to a wooden door at the other end of the room and pressed her hand against it. “Hm. The haunted tower. This was a dark ride, wasn’t it? Maybe one of the leftover animatronics inside has a sword.”

Shivers sprung from her fingers against the door, down her arm, and then through the rest of her. Ah. Clara sincerely loved these kinds of attractions as a little girl. Escapism was taken to a whole new level with the encompassing scenery, sound and lighting... it fascinated her. She never got to experience any of the big expensive parks, but her younger self didn't know any different. Beatrice Sawyer was always that kid who couldn’t stand still in line for the dark rides and— oh. Why did that strike a chord with her? Carousel music, screams, leaves rattling against the pavement. Ice cream? Not to mention that her chest also lurched. It ached and it didn't at the same time. It also felt like warmth and sadness and... it was so unnatural that her brain decided the closest thing to associate it with was pain.

“This isn’t a problem you can think your way out of, nerd! You need to open your heart.” The spider taunted, clicking her… well not her tongue. Because spiders don’t have tongues. Her chelicerae, then? Whatever it was, she did so scoldingly. “I can see it, just as well as I can see that you know exactly what I mean when I talk about life and family. I mean, what a mess! No wonder you've armed that sparkly little heart of yours to the teeth, hm?"

Clara tensed and turned around, ready to cut the spider off with any word that sprung into her mind if she dared to continue down that path.

"I can tell you're struggling, dear. Some of your happiness was stolen from you by Lizzie's mean old squirrel. I can tell." The spider sighed and then perked up again, clapping her numerous hands. "Allow me to help with that!" The flames flickering on the chandeliers overhead changed colors, from orange to deep violets and blues, the door whooshed open and she got a glimpse of a boat floating by. Inside of it she saw her older brother, obviously over-acting his fear for her amusement as a cheap skeleton popped out at them... and herself, who was doubling over with laughter, laughing in a way she'd probably forgotten a long time ago. With a loud clunk, the door shut again and the illusion vanished like smoke. That accompanied another memory within her mind. A boat struck with a giant guillotine as it approached the entrance. But no, that can't have been real. In real life, attractions like that simply didn't exist. That was a death trap, plain and simple. A lawsuit waiting to happen!

"How cute! You have great taste, I might add." The spider commended before continuing. "Your brother was different, wasn't he? He was the only one who didn't try to eat you alive. Remember that." The spider made that clicking noise again. Clara winced, recalling it. The way he'd changed, morphing with that bloodthirsty squirrel, and chased her through a park filled with faceless monsters. Claiming that he wanted to eat her, in fact. "What you saw yesterday wasn't real." It wasn't. Of course it wasn't.

"My, my, my. What a great brother. He must be worried sick about you!" The spider continued on. Clara had trouble standing perfectly still as her heart lurched again and sweat beaded at her brow. "You might be more trouble than you're worth, hm? A burden."

Clara wobbled and then sank to the ground, pressing both of her hands over her chest. It wasn't even that she was taking the spider's words too seriously, although they did pick at her insecurities. No, this physically hurt. Almost like a sword was trying to cut her open from the inside out. Ah. That gruesome imagery didn't do her any favors, either!

"Well! I've done all I can. I'll leave you birds to sort this out." The spider sang, scurrying up the wall. Although she disappeared from sight as she ascended the tower wall to higher floors, her voice continued to echo down. "If the old dragon isn't dead within the hour, I'm going to eat you both! And I don't want to hear any complaints."

'Open your heart,' The voices said, 'Or else.'

"I'm fine. Totally fine. Groovy, even." Clara insisted weakly. She tried climbing back onto her feet, so that she could help Thea find an actual weapon, and stumbled. Her eyes were glassy, unseeing and obviously not fine. Her mind was swathed in a fog as thick as the one that surrounded them when they first entered the park. "Thea... I don't know what to do." The admission rested heavily on her tongue and sank like a stone in her stomach. Thinking of solutions had kind of been her shtick thus far! All she was good for... but under these circumstances? Whether she was having a complete breakdown, whether it was a symptom of panic or exhaustion or simply from this place... her picture perfect composure was beginning to fritter away. "A sword in my heart? What the heck. That's so..." She giggled, sounding weirdly tipsy. "That's so anime."

 

[Syntra]

A sword… in her heart. Cool, why the fuck not! What was next, hmmm? A spear in her soup? A shield in her liver? Liver, at least, struck Thea like the sensible place for a shield-- the poor organ had to get filter waste, after all, and considering most people thought McDonald’s to be a legit choice when it came to securing their meals instead of the biohazard it was, the brunette could only imagine just how hard it worked to keep its dumbass owners alive. The unsung hero of the human history, truly! …maybe she could build a monument to it, once they got this bullshit over with and demons weren’t fucking up their lives every five minutes? Thea herself owed it a lot, and, like, just imagine all those conversations it would spark, man. A random statue of a seemingly random organ, in a completely random location! Of course, of course, she still had to deal with the fact that she didn’t actually know how to make statues, but hey, even Michelangelo had had to start somewhere. So, who could tell she wouldn’t be his hotter, more successful version, huh? Those who stood between Thea Holloway and her ambitions would… uh, escape unscathed, most likely because she didn’t have that many ambitions to begin with. Still, she’d totally succeed if she actually applied herself, and-- oooh, attention, attention, bitch alert! Yup, this distinctly wasn’t a drill.

“A burden?” Thea raised her eyebrow. “I’ll tell you who is the burden here, you eight-legged fuck. Spoiler alert: it’s the one who relies on murdering strangers instead of feeding her own goddamn kids to the monster, like every responsible parent out there!” Aw, shit, that wasn’t right, was it? Even so, being right was a social construct and honestly, the brunette couldn’t say she cared too much about superficial stuff like that. In her heart of hearts, she knew that everything that had ever fallen from her lips was the pure, unfiltered truth, and that was what truly mattered here. “Besides, biting the bullet for someone is the entire goddamn point of being family. Like, those are supposed to be the people who take care of you when you vomit all over yourself, or who cover for you when it turns out you had to kill your classmate in a life-or-death duel.”

‘A very relatable situation, I’m sure,’ the demon smirked. ‘Must have had an adventurous childhood, huh, crow?’

‘Fuck off. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little hijacking act, mate!’ Thea frowned. Yeah, yeah, superpowers were cool and everything, but her Saturday morning cartoons had not depicted them being paid for with her fucking agency. Which, nope, nope, nope! Why would you even strive to be cool when you, yourself, were unable to appreciate your own coolness? So that others would think you were cool? Pfft, no, thank you. Thea recognized a scam when she saw one, alright, and right now, the warning bells in her head were ringing so vehemently you could consider it a whole damn symphony!

“Anyway, it’s stupid to suggest that her brother isn’t glad to be doing these things for her. Like, this is free fucking country, y’know? There’s no ball and chain attached to his leg. Had it actually bothered him, you soulless bitch, then he would have left her at some survival horror looking orphanage years ago!” Just, spiders, man. Thea had never liked them-- the creepy crawliness factor was one thing, but what truly drove her up the wall was just how smart they thought they were. ‘Ooooh, look at me and my fancy traps! Unlike all the fuckers in the animal kingdom, I don’t have to work for my food. I’ll just sit here, wait, and sooner or later, my dinner will come to me on its own!’ It was the same smug selfishness that motivated her words directed to Clara, Thea could tell, and man, was that fucked up. “And, like, before you insult literally anyone, check yourself in the mirror, okay? I mean, it takes some pretty unwarranted confidence to talk shit about literally anyone when even a pile of radioactive waste looks more appealing than you.” Blah blah blah, more nonsense, blah blah blah, open your heart. Yeah, sure, shit like that worked in this way, Thea was sure! Except that not, you sociopathic-ass monster. The whole opening your heart shtick? The brunette wasn’t exactly what you’d call a mom friend, but even she knew that such things required… well, hot cocoa, probably, and a year’s supply of Kleenex, and also someone you actually trusted. Which, not to presume too much here, but Clara’s ‘people to trust’ list most likely didn’t include monsters who threatened to eat her friends! That would have been, uh, unorthodox.

So, the interrogation process went about as well as one might expect, and Clara? Clara was straight up losing it, man. (Her heart clenched in her chest, more painfully than she expected it to. Seeing her like this… it just wasn’t right, okay? Clara shouldn’t fucking have to feel guilty because she couldn’t follow some esoteric instruction an arachnid had pulled out of its ugly, hairy ass.) “Look, it’ll be fine,” Thea began, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m not gonna like, dissect you just to pull a fucking sword out of your chest. Although, technically, I guess that would be vivisection? Unless I killed you first, which I’m, by the way, not doing. Anyway, if it makes you feel better,” she shrugged, “I also don’t know what to do. I don’t really care, either. A solution will appear eventually, I’m sure. If you want to, you can try ‘opening your heart’,” Thea made air quotes in her fingers, “but if it doesn’t work out, then it’ll still be okay. No pressure, really. I mean, what does a spider know about dragon slaying? Fuck all, otherwise she would have killed the monster already. Nah, I wouldn’t take her advice here. And even if there is a sword in your heart, I kinda doubt it’s the only eligible weapon! Not to understate your importance, but like, dragons were killed in the pre-Clara era, weren’t they? I guess I will just have to find something sharp enough. …or,” she shot a careful glance in Clara’s direction, “I can, dunno, share something personal to help you with that whole opening up thing. Do we even have anything to lose, hmm?”

 

[ellarose]

Through all of this mess, Thea was truly nothing short of extraordinary. Snapping back at the spider with the vigor of a firecracker, wielding that confident, bantery logic that came so naturally to her. Whatever fraction of Clara's composure that remained was struck with silent awe of her. (...Sure, a few of her friend's words might have called for a double-take or two. Or three. In some cases, maybe even four. Like killing a classmate in a life-or-death duel? What? By now, however, Clara no longer felt like a total stranger to Thea's, ah, particularly creative anecdotes. Soon enough, even she would be able to let them roll on by completely unfazed. She was quick enough on the uptake to understand that it would save valuable time to apply a suspension of disbelief in these circumstances, toss her tendencies to overthink out the window. Perhaps she would even start nodding along in support of Thea's outlandish, brazen points before their adversaries to lend to her air of credibility. If that was what her position as a partner of crime demanded from her, then... so be it, right?) Does the confession that she also has no idea what to do make her feel any better? No. Of course not! Because they needed a solid plan if they were going to make it out of this alive, damn it! Unless a rain of deus ex machina was forecasted to fall down upon them from the heavens in a matter of minutes, it did nothing to reassure her that everything was going to be all right. Ah. The... the warmth of Thea's hand pressed on her shoulder, however? Well, that was a start. Feeling all too tightly wound, some of the knots begin to loosen their strain beneath the comfort of her touch.

Breathe, Clara. Deep breaths. Clara coached herself through the panic with her usual mantra. Deep, deliberate breaths helped nurture cognitive functions and creativity. It wasn't the kind of task most people wrote at the top of their to-do lists, but it was always the first step. And it was easier now that Thea was anchoring her to reality.

“It's not just the spider. The voices are saying it, too. 'Open your heart. Or else.' It's a threat.” Clara ground her teeth together as another tight bud of pain unfurled, blossoming out in her chest. With her hands over her heart, she gazed meaningfully at Thea’s arm which she had taken care to bandage the night before. Unable to find the key, she suggested that they break the lock with the axe… her ‘plan’ to find an alternative method inside caused Thea to get hurt. Now her grand ‘plan’ to investigate this place was blowing up in their faces. Her failure to perform would get them incinerated by a dragon or, you know, eaten by a giant spider. Guilt-laden, her eyes flickered away again, misty and unfocused. Frantically, her heart pumped itself into a panic again. "There aren't any circumstances where 'or else' wouldn't be classified as a threat. Or else what...?"

The voices had no answer. Clara surmised that if she didn't open her heart that something else would do it for her. Namely, whatever was attempting to break her open from the inside. The cruelest, most nefarious of her fears conjured bloody imagery to accompany this thought, slamming her with another tidal wave of lightheadedness. Open her heart, huh. The question was how? Thump went Clara's heart. “If I can’t do it, there're going to be consequences. Like before.” Thump, thump, thump. Or else, or else, or else.

I won't stop unless you tell me to. That's all you need to do, girl. Speak up and I'll stop!

Clara flinched to avoid the impact of a fist that wasn't even there. Oh, joy. Did the flashbacks have to make their rounds now? It's in the past. She thought resolutely, recovering. He's not here. Can't be. The only one in front of her right now was Thea. Thea, who technically had every right to be angry with her. Thea who... wasn't. Not even slightly. Instead, she was extending a hand and offering to open her own heart first. Like soft rays of sunlight piercing through a sky blanketed with gloomy rainclouds. Sharing? Was that really what it would take?

"...Okay." Clara agreed reluctantly, fighting the overwhelming nausea as she rose to her feet. She clung to the wall to find her balance and nodded towards the door she'd approached earlier. "We can walk and talk at the same time... we should try to find another sword. If I can't do it, I want to make sure you have at least some means of defending yourself." She narrowed her eyes. "We may not have much to lose, but I don't want that demon to win." The faintest spark lit her eyes, a glimmer of gratitude for what Thea was offering to do to help her out. "If I die here, I want you to clobber him."

 

[Syntra]

"Fuck the voices, man," Thea rolled her eyes. "Like, what the hell? That's the equivalent of saying something like 'relax, bitch, or I'm gonna kick your teeth in.' I mean, it's kinda hard to relax with that threat hanging over your head, isn't it? Almost as if they were setting you up to fail. Have no fear, though! It's literally impossible to fail with someone as awesome as me by your side. I will shield you from all the... uh, failure particles. Yup," Thea nodded sagely, "it's a little known cause of failure, but the most damning one. Too much failure particles in the air these days, man-- they make people choose shit majors like English, too. Would you believe?" Yeah, yeah, she may have been rambling, but so fucking what? As far as coping mechanisms went, this one was actually pretty tame. Better than, say, channeling your rage and focusing it into one concentrated death beam! And after all her recent experiences, you could bet your ass that she believed in their existence, thank you very much. "It probably is a threat," Thea conceded, "buuut in order to do anything to you, they'll have to get through me first. Which, good fucking luck! In addition to being a master escapist, I also happen to be a master survivalist. Yet another thing to add on my CV, I guess. You think I could be a professional stuntwoman? Seems like I'm destined to almost die at every step, so cashing in on that would be the natural development."

"Also, fuck consequences. As if we need those! Have you ever heard anyone say: 'dude, this world would be so much worse without consequences?' I haven't, and I sure as fuck don't think that's a coincidence. Shit like that should stay where it belongs-- in theoretical physics, that is." Blah blah blah, more words. The concentration of actual meanings per utterance was even lower than it usually tended to be in all Thea-authored speeches, but sometimes, it just wasn't about that, you know? Sometimes, it was about providing Distracting ContentTM, and allowing your companion to unwind a bit. (If it annoyed her, then too bad, though annoyed!Clara was still better than sad!Clara. From time to time, you just had to take one for the team, and Thea was more than happy to paint a target on her own back if it helped her friend just a little bit. ...friend, right. For now! They were definitely moving along the 'future gfs' trajectory now, though, which... which made her feel weirdly giddy, to be honest. Like a kid who knew that there were presents waiting for them under the Christmas tree, really, except that unwrapping them before the morning came was forbidden. In a way, wasn't the anticipation what made everything feel that much better? That much more special? Yup, that was right, so she was gonna savor it here as well!)

"First of all," Thea pursed her lips, "you won't die. I forbid you to do that, Clara Loveless, so don't even think about it. And second of all, I'm gonna clobber him no matter what, so I can promise that comfortably. You know what, though? I need it to feel epic, so when the time comes, I want you to sing something. Like, my personal soundtrack. I've always been a fan of boss fight music, you feel me? It would help me get into that, hmm," she snapped her fingers, "unbeatable mood. To this day, I maintain that I dropped out of my college course because there was no soundtrack to make it feel as if the stakes were really high." Well, that, and also because she herself had been far too high to function, but in the grand scheme of things, that was just a small, meaningless detail.

As they spoke, Thea chose a random direction and started walking forward, looking for anything that might serve as a weapon. Hmm, hmm. The torch, maybe? Nah, it seemed naive to want to fight a motherfucking dragon, fire made flesh, with a fire that was less potent by definition. Wouldn't that be like trying to shoot a bazooka with a glock? "Okay, okay," Thea smiled sweetly, "opening up, version 1.0: childhood dreams! Everyone loves to talk about those, for some reason. Don't you think it's weird, though? Kinda like digging up a corpse of your beloved grandfather and being like: 'man, I wish he was here!' Except that, in this case, it's more of a: 'man, I wish I was someone else.' Anyway, as a kid, I wanted to be a surgeon. I guess I wanted to cut people up, but then I discovered this shit actually takes a lot of work. What about you? Wait, wait, wait, let me guess!" Thea cast a quizzical gaze at her companion, before rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "A florist. You look like someone who would be good with flowers, I guess. Oooor a baker? I bet your strawberry cakes would be just dreamy."

 

[ellarose]

Stepping carefully along the walkway, Clara followed Thea's lead in a noiseless, subdued state of nonplus. Her mind was teeming with words and attempting to catch up in the wake of everything that was just unleashed on her. Failure particles, concentrated death beams, master survivalist, consequences are unnecessary and belong in theoretical physics, all ending with the fact that she was under strict instructions not to die. Right. Got it? Wow. Um, so, how did... how did so many words...? How could they all come from one person in such a short amount of--? Ah, perhaps she'll never understand how Thea found the willpower to express herself at the rapid fire pace a machine gun would be envious of. What, did their capabilities for speech get switched around as children or something? Like... Clara somehow lost all of her words while Thea absorbed them? Whatever it was, she supposed it had the unforeseen benefit of making them a nice fit. In terms of, you know... being teammates! Friends. She was not getting carried away here, all right? That said, Clara was perfectly content in her role as a listener. Especially if it meant the pressure of needing to come up with something to say was alleviated from her own shoulders.

'Open your heart. Or else.' Clara groaned internally. And Thea was doing such an admirable job of distracting her, too! The voices, however, weren't going to let her forget about her problems anytime soon. And-- wait. Did she just say something about singing?

"...Sing? Me?" Clara asked incredulously, her face warming at the prospect. "Well, I do understand and respect the need for incidental music." And how could she not? Try falling in love with the world of musical theatre. Even she would occasionally catch herself thinking that in a rose-colored, romantic world, anyone would be capable of pouring their true feelings into a musical ballad. Songs that put all those unspoken thoughts succinctly into words. In reality, the closest she ever got was when she hummed along softly to her favorite songs. "Normally I would say no without hesitation. But this is demon-slaying we're talking about, so..." Brow furrowing, she ultimately decided to humor her. "I don't know, Thea. I'll see what I can do... but if you're expecting anything beyond the level of a sea shanty from me, you'll be sorely disappointed."

While the concept of singing for anyone other than her dog to hear was admittedly terrifying, so was the concept of watching Thea attempting to fight these mysterious forces of pure demonic energy that circled around them like vultures. Yet there was also something hopeful about the idea of them surviving long enough to go toe to toe with the demon himself. If that were to actually happen, then maybe she could set her reservations aside.

"Oh. Wow." Clara scrunched her nose subtly at Thea's admission of wanting to... cut people up? Coming from anyone other than Thea, she might have been genuinely worried. But this was Thea. And Thea, for all extents and purposes, was safe. Probably the only safe person in her world right now. It was fine as long as she wasn't cutting her up, you know? Which... 'Open your heart.' Childhood dreams ought to have been innocuous enough, but, ah, this information was considerably difficult to stomach when she considered her current predicament. "Not a heart surgeon, perchance?" She asked wryly, wincing as another surge of pain rose up in her chest.

"Don't get me wrong... venus fly traps are pretty cute and all, but I... no." Clara blinked hard against the pain, struggling to focus. Normally she might've simply humored Thea's guesses, told her she was right about everything... if they weren't in this exact situation. Geez. She'll have to be honest, won't she? About everything. Because, duh, opening her heart implied that she had to be sincere. "And I can't be trusted in the kitchen. For reasons. Strawberry cakes are my favorite, though." Better than pie, that was for certain.

"I guess I aspired to live in another world altogether?" Clara confessed with a shrug. As silly as it sounded, fantasizing by inserting herself into the lost princess narrative became a comfort for her. Sure, in some small part it was the extravagance she longed for. The pretty dresses, the shoes, the silky hair... and all the comforts life in a castle would have to offer compared to that shabby old trailer she lived in. But it was always went deeper than that. Like maybe someplace far away she had a family who missed her, who would love her the right way if she could only find her way home to them. Ugh. She was not disclosing that part! It was too... pathetic. "I understood that was impossible, mind you, so I did what any reasonable girl would do and searched for the next best thing." She brushed her thumb over a fake coffin as they walked by it, drawing a line in the dust that accumulated there. The pattern beneath their feet resembled cobblestone and the torches on the wall flickered in the darkness, subtly lighting their path forward. "...Coincidentally, I found it at a cheap Disneyland knockoff place. I got, uh, weirdly invested in animatronics and theme park attractions. I wanted to design them." She hesitated. "Maybe it's not quite so improbable after all. Now that we know about these ghostly planes..."

'Deep down you knew, dove. You knew that I could grant your wish. That's why you came here, why you put yourself within my reach.' The demon slid in, his voice oddly hypnotic. 'When reality is too cruel to face, you want nothing more than to escape. I can give that to you. With me, your ideal, imaginary world will be born with just the snap of your fingers! You've already seen for yourself, the possibilities...'

"Well? I really tried." Clara shook him off, speaking aloud to the voices instead. (The demon could expect the silent treatment for the foreseeable future-- especially after that stunt he pulled with Thea!) She frowned and pressed her hands over her aching chest. Still no sword. "What more do you want from me?" Between herself and Thea, dust trickled down in a thin trail from the ceiling... and the ground shook. Then it stopped, leaving them in a moment of eerie silence. Clara tilted her head and cast a wary glance at Thea. "...W-we might be running out of time. Any other ideas?"

 

[Syntra]

“Right!” Thea nodded enthusiastically, happy that she had found a kindred soul. “Music makes everything feel that much more epic, man. Like, I’ve always wondered what kind of songs they’ll choose for my funeral, and I’m sorta bummed that I’ll never find out. Yeah, yeah, I know that you can prepare a list beforehand, but a) that doesn’t feel authentic, b) nobody will fucking guarantee that they’ll actually use the list. I guess you’d have to pull a Tom Sawyer, or… hmm… you think we’ll return as ghosts as well?” That could actually be pretty funny, now that she thought of it. In her ghostly form, Thea could finally pull off that which had eluded her in life-- namely, earning YouTube fame! Bullying some dumbass monster hunter wannabe should be more than enough to garner some attention, and then… then she could, uhhh, pull some “””prophecies””” out of her ass and troll the fuck out of everyone. Man oh man, was there even enough popcorn in the world for a scenario in which she convinced the humanity that the zombie apocalypse was coming next year? The state of the popcorn industry was a mystery to Thea Holloway, but she sure as hell intended to find out.

‘A lovely ambition, crow, but that’s not how you will be spending the eternity. Your soul will be shredded to pieces, you know? Your pathetic friends only stayed behind because you failed to join them, so don’t think that death will be your get out of jail free card.’

‘Hmmm… is it just me, or do you just a little bit salty?’ Thea smirked inwardly. ‘Return to whatever hole that you crawled out of, you pathetic-ass stalker. Spoiler alert: that’s now how you impress a lady!’

“Anyway,” she beamed at Clara, “I’m sure that your soundtrack will be great. I mean, it’ll be done by you. Impress me enough and I may, uhhh…” Do what? Throw her bra at her? That did seem like a stereotypical FangirlTM thing to her, except that it also didn’t really strike her as peak romance. More like peak restraining order fuel, amirite? And Thea wanted to do this right, god fucking dammit! (You know, for the variety. Most of the things in her life she’d fucked up irrevocably, so why not actually try for once? Eternal failure and the smell of cigarette smoke may have been cool when you were still in highschool, but boy, did it get old. Who knew that being a ~tortured soul~ actually sucked ass? Lord Byron hadn’t fucking mentioned it in his countless tirades, but he certainly should have-- the bastard was lucky that he was dead, really, otherwise she would have robbed him in the court. Just, false advertising was a fucking blight on this earth!) “…I’ll do something, okay,” the brunette finally settled on. “And I won’t tell you what, ‘cause I actually want to think it through instead of blurting out the first thing that comes to my mind. Didn’t expect that, huh? Checkmate, Clara!” Yup, romance/10 for sure. Had it been just slightly less embarrassing, Thea would have patted her own shoulder! …then Clara mentioned heart surgeons, though, and her breath hitched in her chest. (Wow, did her own heart need surgery? ‘Cause skipping that many beats did not feel normal, dammit.) “I, um, I guess not? Heart surgeons are too OP. Like, I'd steal everyone's spotlight and I kinda do that already, so I don't think it would be fair towards the rest of the world." Ha, smooth! Why hadn't she become a politician, again? Running your mouth for a living and pretending to be the only thing preventing the society from devolving into total fucking chaos sounded fun! ...too bad that someone would actually have to vote for her, ugh. Couldn't she, like, challenge one of the old fucks to a duel and let the gods decide? Trial by combat, anyone? No? No. Siiigh.

"Ah ha! I knew it would be something artsy," she announced triumphantly, as if it was some big gotcha moment. "I can't picture you sitting in some fucking cubicle and trying to, I dunno, sell two divorces for the price of one." ....oookay, so apparently Thea had some interesting ideas regarding how divorces worked, but let's ignore that, shall we? "I feel you on the state of the world, though. 0/10, nice graphics, but shit story. Anyway, have you ever felt as if what you're seeing isn't real? Real real, I mean? I'm not sure whether this is a side effect of us being involved in this..." the brunette waved her hand, "...in this demon-flavored nightmare, but I've always kinda felt disconnected from everything. As in, that couldn't be all there was to life. Waking up every day, paying your bills, and then dying because your waiter accidentally put a cyanide pill into your fucking soup just didn't seem enough to me, okay? I think that I was always waiting for something more exciting to happen, though I sure as fuck did not expect this."

The time marched on, though, and Clara demanded more questions. Ah, jeez! Why the hell hadn't she prepared an FAQ-like list in advance, huh? "Okay, okay, okay! Let's skip right to the Important Stuff, then. Wanna tell me about your first love? And, uh, your dream gf." ...what? Clara was meant to open her heart, so maybe this was the route to success! And if not, then Thea could at least congratulate herself for obtaining such sweet, sweet intel.

 

[ellarose]

"Two for the..." Clara trailed off, as if she'd decided partway to do the rest of the math in her head instead of talking herself through it. Gradually, her expression changed from perplexed to the calm neutral of acceptance. "Like for twins who marry twins?" She shrugged, half-serious and half-amused. Sure, she could be inclined to let every silly notion that came out of Thea's mouth go without further comment... but where was the fun in that? It made a creative brain teaser to try and come up with an equally strange, real-world situation in which her off-the-walls logic applied! (Ah. That was nerdy, wasn't it? Painfully so.) Then the subject shifts and... well, of course she related to that. She related the same way she could relate to the sensation of glimpsing into ghost hell and hearing voices in her head. "...Yeah, actually." She agreed. Then she went as far as to admit her personal truth in that flat, unaffected manner that kept her from investing any discernible, 'real feelings' in the conversation. "Except I always expected... you know, death." It sounded an awful lot like she was being sarcastic when she said it like that, but that, in no uncertain terms, was precisely how she felt. She hadn't been lying when she saw the branding on her back as though it was an expiration date.

Thea, though. She didn't strike Clara as the sort of woman who would lie down and die quietly. And if life was even remotely fair, there really would be something more out there waiting for someone like her! She had a personality that shined in the spotlight rather than shying away from it... as well as the ability to effortlessly wield an axe and a charming smile alike-- hah, wait, what? Um. The point was, she deserved to travel the open road, the sea and skies, to strike out on that grand, story-book adventure. Not to hide in fear for the rest of her life because she'd been branded for sacrifice as a child by some shady organization! And yeah, there was something so admirable, so charming-- wait, what? Ahem. Something admirable about the way she beamed and rambled cheerfully on when she really ought to be worrying about her upcoming fight with a freaking dragon. Instead she was busy helping her figure her own conundrum out... trying to make her feel better, really.

And perhaps Clara's perspective had shifted quite a bit since then. Now she was challenging the demon in her head with a boldness that only continued to surprise her, she refused to give up for even a second-- even when exhaustion threatened to bring her to her knees. And to think that only yesterday, she'd thought she was a goner in the cemetery! Honestly... not to sound morbid or anything, but she would have been if not for Thea. Thea, who took her hand and pulled her into motion after she'd stopped dead in her tracks like a deer in headlights. That's an apt way to put it, really. She'd been standing still for so, so long. Now, not even a day since they met, she was running, even flying, and...

"Then again..." Clara softened, her quiet voice quieter than usual. "That was before I met you."

Clara's heart lurched once again, as if something just shifted, and her vision doubled with the impact. That certainly did something. She slowed her pace and put her hand to the wall to steady herself.

Probably a good thing she'd taken measures to keep her balance, too, considering the next topic of conversation. Love?

Damn it.

Clara's ears turned a curious shade of pink. Thea was really going for the heart here, wasn't she? (...Well, of course she was. Wasn't that the whole point? Still. That didn't mean that she had to like it!) This wasn't going to work. Talking about her wasn't going to do her any favors. Why? Because it never had. Besides, was it even love she felt back then? It's difficult to discern what shape her own emotions had taken when they'd been sculpted by the sloppy hands of someone who didn't care. Like a toddler experimenting with clay, twisting and shredding and wringing until... No. It wasn't love. It was a tiny bud of fondness that withered on the vine. And she was of the opinion that dredging up that part of her past was unnecessary. It wouldn't provide the gateway to whatever cinematic scene they needed for a sword to appear.

"I've never been in lo..." Clara began, braced and all steel... until the ground shook again.

"No more hiding." It was the cryptic voice from her nightmare the night before. But, um, the distinct difference this time was that it wasn't locked inside her head. Because the voices in her head usually didn't react to her scenery by, you know, reverberating off the walls. Clara glimpsed behind just in time to see a shadowy monster dragging itself towards them. The only visible features it had were bright white teeth and bright white claws. "No more hiding." That sharp smile quirked up in a chilling grin. She realized it was going to lunge for Thea. Thea who had already been cut and choked and burned and-- no, not this time.

"Thea!" Clara was aware of the searing pain before she was fully aware that she had just used all of her strength to push Thea out of harm's way. The claws tore through her flesh and it burned unlike anything else... and yet that warmth also attributed to the pride welling in her chest as she hit the ground. Because Thea was the reason why she could spring into motion like this in the first place, why wanted to fight for the first time in her life, and... and she was able to do something useful, you know? She liked to think she could be more than a burden. More than someone whose plans went awry at every turn--

The claws had cut three large gashes into Clara's back that extended to her forearm, leaving whatever fabric covered her up back there in shreds. She couldn't see for herself how deep they were... but at that moment, it didn't matter a single bit. First and foremost, Thea needed some way to defend herself now, and... oh. Hovering over her chest was the hazy hilt which appeared to shimmer and change colors depending on which angle you looked at it. A magic sword. In her heart. Wow. It really was... very anime, wasn't it? "Thea, look." All Thea would have to do is pull and the rest of it should come out, right? The prospect made her rather dizzy, but... the sooner she took it out, the better. She might just make herself sick otherwise. "Go on. Take it."

 

[Syntra]

Ah, death. Cool, cool, that wasn't macabre at all! Then again, Thea supposed, 'macabre' was the ideal fucking adjective to describe the life of someone who had been kidnapped as a kid, branded as a sacrifice and turned into... what, exactly? Demon food in waiting? Shit, yeah, not a good mental image at all. Still, what about the power of... uh, was it positive thinking? All the self-help books promoted that, sure, except that positive fucking thinking had never helped her when she'd been stuck in that hellhole, either. 'Oooo, ~reconceptualize~ everything, Thea! Brainwashing is good, actually, because at least you'll have a clean brain, and hygiene is fucking important.' ...yeah, not how it worked, sadly. So, did she blame Clara for being a bit of a Debbie Downer? Nope, not at all! Hearing her say that she expected death in such a casual manner felt wrong, though, kinda like putting your shoes on backwards, and Thea-- oh. Oh, alright. Well, it seemed that someone here had a greater influence on a certain cute blonde than she'd previously thought! (Hint: her name totally began with T, not D, and she also happened to be the most handsome zombie-slayer around.) "That's..." mindblowing, awesome, showstopping, totally life-changing, "good to hear," the brunette finally settled on, not wanting to spook her not-yet-gf. "I mean, living is fun, or it can be, unless some mental health institution decides to fuck you up. Do not recommend, by the way. Like, fucking wire in your eye might be more pleasant than that!" Yeah, yeah, that probably depended on a) how deeply it got stuck, b) how gently it got inserted, c) how barbed it was, but still.

"Never, huh? I don't believe you, Clara Loveless," Thea smirked. "I mean, with a mouth like that, you couldn't have--" The rest of the analysis would remain denied to the world, however, because a few crucial developments happened at once. And, what were they? Development #1: the motherfucking dragon decided to show up, because why the hell not. Clara and Thea, having a nice conversation? Oh ho ho, obviously, the universe couldn't have that! It just had to roll its ~dice of misfortune~ and interrupt their Pleasant TimeTM with a literal abomination from the humanity's darkest nightmares. (Still, none of that really rattled Thea. In a strange way, danger got old, you know? When you watched the same horror movie for weeks, the fear factor diminished in time, and instead of being besides itself with worry, your brain was like 'well, duh, of fucking course that that was going to happen.' Patterns were just buzzkill, man! And now it turned out that the same thing applied to, you know, her actual life.) So, yeah, despite the dragon showing up much earlier than either of them had expected, the brunette was fine, mostly. The thing that really fucked with her, though? Development #2, aka Clara. Clara fucking getting hurt, on her behalf. (Like??? Who had asked her to play the hero, huh? Thea was supposed to be the knight in shiny armor here, with a cool-ass sword in her hand, and-- ah, shit. There was a time and place for everything, man, and tears were not good for one's coordination!)

"What the hell," she whispered, ostentatiously ignoring the winged monster. "Haven't I expressly forbidden you to die, Clara? And now... now you're going to..." Nope, nope, nope, Thea wasn't going to say it! Like, what if all those stupid superstitions had a point? What if she jinxed her, or something? The chance of that bullshit actually being true was rather low, but not 0%, and so she would not risk it. Nuh uh, gambling with her not-gf's life was a serious no-no! (The dragon roared in the background, though, as if to remind her that it was still there, and sent a wave of fire in her direction. Whoopsie! Her dodging it was partially a lucky coincidence, Thea knew.) "Okay, I'm gonna take the sword. Hang on, Clara-- after I'm done with the oversized lizard, I'll fucking beat your wounds as well. I'll... I'll challenge them to a duel if I have to, 'cause I won't let them take you away from me!" ...the problem with the sword, though? Under her touch, the colorful shimmers died, and turned to a dim, dim shade of black.

"Ha!" the dragon laughed. "I knew you never stood a chance. The girl failed to open her heart, so that nifty sword you got? Useless. You are just meat for me to fill my stomach with, really. What is it like, hm?"

Not great, Thea had to admit, but only cowards ever gave up in the face of adversity! (Well, cowards, and also people who actually had viable escape routes at their disposal, which were groups that she distinctly did not belong to. Because, leaving Clara behind? Nah, mate! Sooner than that, Thea would have cut off her own hand.) "Not sure, to be honest. Let me ask you something else, though-- what is it like, knowing that you're going to be killed by your own fucking dinner? I mean, I can occasionally be pathetic as well, but this is a new low." Blah blah blah, so Clara hadn't really opened her heart. Honestly, how was that supposed to be terrifying? Clara was still alive, you see, and the dragon had just provided a cool manual on how to unlock the sword's powers. Thank god for villainous speeches, really!

"My first love," Thea shouted, deciding to lead by example, "was called Mina. I confessed to her in front of the whole fucking class and she laughed at me. Mercilessly. I composed a whole-ass poem for her and everything, and yet! Clearly, she had some seriously shit taste-- the poem ruled, my dude. I bet that it will rival Sappho's fragments one day."

 

[ellarose]

"I’m not going to… going to die. I still need to try your cooking, right?" Clara insisted languidly. She was especially lightheaded after the sword was taken and struggled to focus on what Thea was saying. Even as she strained to listen, it was difficult to make any sense of her words. What is she even talking about? A duel? The softest hint of a smile touched her lips at the prospect. Attempting to visualize the whole scenario she'd just described brought cartoonish images to mind. It was nostalgic, in a way. Charmingly so. Charmingly so? Why does that word keep-- "Aren’t you supposed to treat wounds, not beat them?" What? The rhyming between Thea’s solution and what ought to have been perceived as a natural solution in this situation was sort of funny. Or, uh, perhaps she’s becoming a teeny bit loopy because of the blood loss.

'There, there. Go to sleep, little dove, and it’ll all be over soon. We've prepared a nice dream for you to live in.' The demon coaxed.

'You mean nightmare. No, thank you.' Clara corrected, like a teacher wielding a red pen mercilessly over an essay. Whenever things went wrong (as they often did) her solution in solution-less circumstances were often to ignore her problems altogether and take a nap. So long as her sleep was dreamless, it was a convenient way to escape her life for a little while. Carrying all those things she never said was hard, thankless work, so... of course on some level she was exhausted. It was such a deep rooted exhaustion that hours upon hours of sleep couldn't cure it. It did help to ebb the symptoms. Now was not the time for a nap, however. She assured herself that she wasn't going to succumb, not even to the demon's most melodic tone of voice.

'Ah, there's the dove I know. I feared I let you live long enough to be corrupted by crow's... vulgar tendencies. You should see the inside of that head of hers! Every other word it's something new. Astonishing, really. But you...' The demon tsked like a disappointed parent. 'Swearing doesn't suit you.'

Instead of dignifying him with another response, Clara blinked sleepily and fought to keep her eyes open. At this point, her standing theory that the demon interjected in times of crisis specifically to distract her from matters of grave importance was proven time and time again. The rumbling of the dragon’s heavy footfalls vibrated against her ear and cheek. Though they forewarned danger, they did a decent job of keeping her anchored firmly to this plane of existence. Thea was her main incentive to stay awake and present. Thea who still had a comeback even when she was seemingly backed into a corner, who still believed in her even after she'd been informed that she...

I failed. Failed to open her heart, therefore rendering the sword useless. And Thea... Thea would be in immediate danger unless she could figure this out. Frustration coiled in tight knots inside of her alongside the various aches and pains. Seriously? This was rigged, wasn't it? They were doomed. For Clara, it wasn't just a measly step forward for her to confide in someone, to speak her mind properly. Opening up for her was like leaping off a boulder into the ocean, or perhaps the equivalent of skydiving. What more do you want from me? No amount of connecting the dots between the shadows, the changing colors, the illusions, the spiders and dragons and attractions was going to get them out of this one. Whatever this was, it had to come from her. But what if she didn't have it in her?

The story of her first love... was that really what it was going to take? A snapshot of a single moment flashed through her mind alongside the thought, a single piece of a puzzle long forgotten. Herself and Thea in the woods, dirtied and ragged, clasping each others hands tightly. Alongside this, she fleetingly recalled the way she had felt when she caught Lizzie with her hands around Thea's throat all those years ago, the burst of emotion that propelled her to tackle her away. Clara's head throbbed. Their past together was still far beyond her reach, so far that she couldn't tell whether... now Thea was mentioning someone named Mina and-- ah. It sounded horrifying, to be laughed at in front of an entire class. How was it that she could talk about that so dauntlessly? Where had she found that sort of courage? But she was doing it for her, to make it easier for her, and...

"Her... her name was Ivy." Clara genuinely tried to follow Thea's example, arching her neck to hide her face, forehead touching the floor. Recalling that lipstick red smile, the clouds of smoke... this wasn't opening her heart, was it? This was the equivalent of opening old wounds and pouring salt on them. Even still, this was rapidly becoming a matter of life and death. And maybe the fact that it hurt meant something, right? Maybe there was some significance in the fact that she struggled. Therefore she attempted to persist. "She was beautiful." Bitter as she was to pay her any sincere compliments now, it was the truth. At this point, however, her beauty was the only positive thing she had going for her after she shed her disguise. Ivy was understanding, effortlessly cool, witty and so easy to be around... until she wasn't. "And conniving." That was putting it lightly. She curled up with a sharp inhale, pressing her voice into something thick and deadpan. "...I don't know what else to say. She played with me until she got bored." And then crushed her heart with her stupid, edgy platform shoes. Clara wasn't sure whether the worst part was that she had fallen for the act, or if it was that Ivy had set out to hurt her intentionally. Either way, at least she finally said something? The question was whether or not it would be enough to appease the sword.

And hopefully it would be enough... because the dragon was rearing back in preparation to strike again.

 

[Syntra]

“Treating wounds means beating them, Clara,” Thea rolled her eyes. “Obviously, the reverse must be true as well. This is, like, basic logic. Don’t be such a child.” Because there was nothing, nothing in that couldn’t be solved by a little bit of violence-- it was the holy grail of problem solving, the one true panacea in a world full of… uhhh, overly specialized antibiotics. Yep, yep! Just give her an axe, or the Excalibur, maybe, and watch the enemy go down in fucking flames. (Nooo, this wasn’t just her holding onto a false sense of control, why do you ask? Thinking you could literally bash your problem’s skull in was a sign of healthy emotional development, Thea was sure. Like, at least she wasn’t about to turn the weapon against herself! Externalization was the way to go, baby-- 11 out of 10 therapists agreed, really. Besides, all the bogus self-help books stressed the importance of being proactive, and you could hardly find a better example of pro-activeness than, you know, literally slaughtering everything in your way.)

“Ivy,” brunette repeated, wondering privately what the girl might have been like. (Of course, only for research purposes. Thea Holloway was never jealous, and especially not of a ghost of a past fling-- like, haha, that would have been fucking pathetic, right? And since she was too cool to be pathetic, this explanation obviously went out of the window. Nuh uh. What drove her here was… ah, her wanting to know what Clara might have seen in her! That absolutely was a valid strategy when it came to capturing the attention of pretty girls, you know. Not that Thea was going to build an entire new personality around this… this Ivy, but knowing more about her could be helpful, for reasons! For reasons that were Good and JustifiedTM, even if she couldn’t exactly figure out why. Just, trust in her instincts, man.) Beautiful, huh. Well, okay, no problem here-- like, it wasn’t really socially acceptable to say that, but Thea did, in fact, own a mirror, and thus knew she was pretty damn attractive herself. A random-ass chick sure as fuck couldn’t compete with her! …especially not one who also seemed to be a textbook example of a bitch, mind you. “Wow, that sucks,” she said, with her usual tact. “Why the fuck would you play with a girl? As in, there are gameboys and stuff for that. Playstations and switches and shit, too-- like, we live in the golden era of gaming, my dude. No reason to be like this.”

‘The golden era of gaming?’ the demon asked, his voice shaking with badly suppressed laughter. ‘Very comforting, I imagine. Honestly, it’s not a mystery why so many seem to dislike you, crow. I’m a demon, and yet I am aghast at your lack of people skills!’ And that, honestly, might have hit the bullseye, a little bit, because Thea flushed.

‘Well, at least I try! Like, I don’t think a literal demon from hell can judge me re: what boundary-crossing and what isn’t. I didn’t even invite you into my fucking head, for starters!’

The good news, however? The mention of Ivy’s name might have behaved like a spell, because the sword lit up, complete with colorful sparkles and shit. “This really is very anime,” Thea chuckled, admiring the blade for a bit. “You think you can get a body glitter that would emulate this exact effect at Walmart?” ‘Cause it was cool, cool, cool! Just imagine walking down the street, sunlight in your hair and rainbow on your skin, and-- ooookay, better to pay attention to the motherfucking dragon for now. Since, uh, the creature lunged at her! (Thea hadn’t taken Dragon Slaying 101, though she imagined that you generally did not want to be hit by something like that. Like, the brain was kinda good at making analogies, you see? And seeing the monsters rushing towards her eerily reminded her of a fucking truck, running at full speed. Alrighty, then, time to dodge! Unless… hmm, hmm. Thea did have a sword now, didn’t she? A sword that Clara had pulled out of her own goddamn heart, and the last time she’d checked, swords were for killing, not dodging. Like, maybe the dragon would eventually get tired of her dancing around and commit suicide, but the brunette didn’t really want to bet her life on that! …or even five dollars, really. The odds honestly seemed pretty fucking poor.)

So, yeah, she did step aside, but in such a way that it allowed her to stay reasonably close. And, as the dragon moved forward, driven by the momentum? Thea put her sword in its way, right in the direction of its belly! Needless to say, it worked out… sorta. The sword ran through the scales like hot knife through butter, covering her in blood and other liquids that she did not want to think about, but the other thing that happened? A cloud of darkness escaped from the wound, darker than anthracite. Uh oh. Double uh oh, actually, because it took the shape of a woman!

“Psh psh psh,” she giggled, in a way that made Thea’s skin fucking crawl. (Alert, alert: supernatural bullshittery was afoot. This was not a drill, in case you still played the doubting Thomas!) “Dreams are just cotton candy, girl. Pointless filler. You think you can beat a dragon without confronting the ugliness inside, hmm? Shallow, shallow, shallow!” As if to confirm her words, the blade withered in her hand, and the whole world was suddenly drowning in darkness. Confronting the ugliness? What the fucking fuck? The dragon wasn’t (hadn’t been?) exactly a beauty queen, so why… ah. Ah, okay, this was some A-grade metaphoric nonsense, wasn’t it? (Too bad, then, that the chick had given her a pretty big hint.) “Hey, Clara, what’s your worst fear? I’m afraid of, uh, deep water, and doctors, and also of ending up totally alone because of people finding out that I secretly suck!”

 

[ellarose]

Galvanized by Thea's reaction, Clara finally glanced up at her when the sword manifested. Brilliant and sparkling, like stars on a black velvet sky. Oh. Wow. It was pretty... and very anime indeed. And it came from her? No way. Witnessing a weapon she probably would have dreamed up as a little girl manifest in reality-- or whatever these ghostly landscapes could officially be classified as-- was breathtaking. She thought the magic that fueled all of those fantasies she'd had as a kid would've lost their shine by now. The most exciting part of all of this, however, was also perhaps the simplest part. Thea mentioning make-up sent her heart all aflutter and a bit embarrassingly, Clara blushed fiercely with the temptation to tell her that she could give her a spiffy fantasy make-over... you know, if that was actually something she was into. (And no, she wasn't blushing because she already looked quite the spitting image of a magical warrior princess or anything. Pfft. Okay maybe a little.) Clara was already considering which colors she might use to best accentuate her features. The mental image of leaning in close to apply her eye shadow and lip tint flashed through her mind and... No, no, no. She'd done make-up for plenty of girls in the past. No need to make it a thing! Who was making it a thing? Certainly not her. Ah. With her looks, Thea could easily pull off so many different themes, too! With her rather androgynous appeal, she could pull off approaches both beautiful and handsome. An earth fairy or perhaps a mystic knight, or... Geez Louise. A fire-breathing dragon was in the vicinity-- now was not the time for this! It was just that the idea that her new friend might appreciate what she could do with a palette and a couple of brushes made her toes curl unconsciously.

Clara's chest seized up when Thea approached the dragon and eased when she slashed it through. Whew. Was it getting hot in here, or was it just her?

When the sword withered away, Clara deflated. To try so valiantly to open up and watch the recompense for her efforts dissipate after one hit was quite disheartening. Ugh, disheartening. No pun intended. Maybe she should've seen that one coming. The sword was inside of her heart, wasn't it? If anything, it was an accurate reflection of just how quickly her faith in magic had faded. She curled her limbs around a growing pang in her chest and closed her eyes tightly. Ugliness? Oh, come on now. Why was this bizarre world trying to wring absolutely everything out of her, anyway? Weren't there more important things to be focusing on? Like finding and communicating with the child who died here, as well as how they needed to go about bringing them to rest?

Clara couldn’t bring herself to answer Thea’s question. There was a certain point where the universe pushed too hard, where she didn't have the strength to stand again. The shadows suffocated her, the harsh familiarity of helplessness closing in. Instead of making any genuine progress, this 'dragon' was going to rip away everything she held close to her chest-- probably only to later humiliate and destroy her with it.

“I raised you better than that.” A gravelly voice said. "Go on and answer her."

Clara’s heart dropped. If she couldn't speak before, now she couldn't breathe. A familiar silhouette accompanied the familiar voice, swathed in shadows that disguised most of his features. He stalked imposingly towards her. Closer than he had any right to be. Talk about horror-movie level parents, hm? Why was he here?

“Not going to say anything, are you?” Her papa's voice sounded exactly like she remembered it. Shell shocked, she stared pointedly at the floor to avoid looking at him. Although she hated to move and agitate her wounds, she made a herculean attempt to push herself upright so she could crawl as far away from him— it— as far she could possibly get. “Of course you’re not.” His low laugh grated on her ears. "You don't got your brother or that dumb book of yours... what're you gonna do now?"

Clara lunged to her feet and sprinted towards Thea, taking her hand unhesitatingly to pull her along. Nope. She thought. Nope, nope, nope. Not today, satan. She was out! She was officially done. And she'd have kept running, too, if she hadn't led them through the darkness and knee-deep into cold, murky water. What...? A stream? Sure, why not. They were both afraid of water and she'd already drowned once today. Once was quite enough for her, thank you very much. Going any further could mean going deeper and...

'Lightning strikes!' The voice sang. 'Change prevails.'

Clara knew she was trembling with fear. She knew, but she didn't possess the courage to release Thea's hand to prevent her from knowing about it. Contrarily, she clung tightly to her, afraid to get separated, afraid to be left alone with him. It was... embarrassing. Just how had everything had gone so impossibly wrong? "...Sorry." Her breath shuddered, her voice barely a whisper, "Sorry." She repeated, shutting her eyes. About time she admitted the obvious out loud, wasn't it? "I shouldn't have suggested that we come here. I don't know what I was thinking." They were definitely going to die here and it was all her fault. Sweat beaded at her brow and her wounds reminded her of their existence with an eruption of pain. She swayed, on the verge of crashing into the water.

 

[Syntra]

Uh oh. Yep, you heard her-- uh fucking oh. (It wasn't that Thea blamed Clara for not being able to deliver, of course. Like, not everyone was her, you see? Regretfully and shamefully so, because a world full of Theas would have also been a world full of concentrated fucking awesomeness, but yeah, she had learned the hard way that not everyone rolled the way she did. Revealing your innermost weaknesses to a person that you'd only known for, like, five seconds? Let me tell you, that wasn't most people's favorite trope! ...to their detriment, mind you, 'cause the thing they failed to realize? That naming your fear, i.e. giving it a tangible form, made it easier to squish it, like the annoying mosquito it was. Instead of it hanging over you like... like a shapeless cloud of depression, it turned into SomethingTM! And, yeah, that SomethingTM could have been horrible, akin to a fucking zombie chasing you down the local cemetery, but, and that was an important but, you could also chop its head off with a badass-looking axe! A good trade off, as far as the brunette was concerned. ...better than letting fear fucking squeeze oxygen out of your lungs, at least.)

Still, that was the type of knowledge you kinda had to earn for yourself. It came with experience, not with sanctimonious lessons, and like, far be it from her to play the mentor role, okay? Mentors had to have their shit together, which even Thea could admit wasn't really her case. (Her priorities? Absolutely in order, thank you very much, except that the rest of the society didn't seem to agree. Their loss, of course! Conforming was for basic bitches, however, and so she had set out on a personal crusade to prove that she had been right all along, but till they were forced to accept the truth? Thea couldn't in good conscience consider herself to be an Accomplished Woman, or shit like that. Nope, nope, nope! Gotta earn your accolades first, man.)

Anyway, it would be nice if Clara could open her eyes, like, yesterday, because the monster her mind had conjured up? Jesus Christ, what a fucking asshole! ('I raised you better than that?' I? Aw, fuck, just hearing that bullshit made her blood boil. Like, maybe he lived in some alternative reality where 'upbringing' was secretly synonymous with 'beating the shit out of your kid whenever they dared to express having an actual personality,' but surprise, surprise, bitch! That wasn't the reality that Thea inhabited, thank you very much. ...most normal people didn't, either, and for once, the brunette found herself in agreement with the mainstream. See how far he'd pushed her, huh? This was, uh, basically the equivalent of an Ice-type Pokemon admitting that fire could be nice!)

"Oh no, no, no, you ugly bastard," she shouted, "don't even fucking go there! Don't you dare to claim any credit here. If anything, Clara raised herself, and she did a damn good job of it." Automatically, her hands wrapped around her waist, the shrivelled sword forgotten. No point in clinging to it when there was a very real risk of Clara slipping and drowning, was there? (Without her, it was fucking game over, man. Fin, nada, nothing. Saving her own ass while losing her would have been like, dunno, salvaging only one shoe from a dumpster fire, and who would like to be a single shoe clown? Not Thea, that was for sure!) "It's fine," the brunette reassured her. "We won't fucking die here. Not to embrace my inner control freak here, but I forbid it, remember? The bastard isn't even real!" He seemed real enough, Thea was going to give him that, except that parents generally did not have the ability to emerge out of nothingness and, like, haunt their adult children. Just, nope! Mother Nature hadn't given them that ability, and thank Darwin for that small fucking mercy.

"Her bro may not be here," Thea stared at the man defiantly, despite him towering over her, "but I am."

'So, so high!' a voice whispered. 'Higher than hope, higher than what you can reach.'

"You hear me?" she repeated, her voice a thunder. "I'm fucking here and I'm not afraid of someone who hasn't even grasped the basics of grammar, bitch." The stream behind them rushed forward, to some unseen goal, and that only made her clutch Clara tighter. Like, what if her companion got spooked and fell into the water? Nuh uh, Thea was gonna minimize near-death experiences where she could! "Come and get me if you can," she taunted, her arm still wrapped securely around her friend. (In a way, it felt... right? Cheesy as it was, maybe it was always supposed to lead to this-- you know, to another she and her versus the world moment.) "You're not gonna, though, are you? 'Cause your cowardly ass can't deal with the fact I'm not fucking six. Well, what is it? Am I right or not?" ...if she was, then he couldn't do it, due to the usual smoke and mirrors shit. And, if he could? Well, dealing with him would probably still be better than, say, battling zombies, demonic ring masters, and now also dragons, apparently. Wow, was their repertoire growing ever more diverse!

 

[ellarose]

"Clara? You goin' by Clara now?" A low chuckle rumbled in time with the shivers careening down Clara's spine. "I see how it is."

Clara hid her face against Thea's shoulder. If she was judged for it, then quite frankly, she wasn't even sure whether or not she cared anymore. Because as far as she was concerned, the ship where she'd agonized over confessing her worst fears had set sail by now. How was she meant to hide when they materialized right in front of them? That and she was too gutted to care. Her thoughts scattered in horror, her throat was jammed with terror, and there was nothing she could say or do to push him away as he crept closer. Any hope of escaping from this nightmare with a shred of her dignity frayed like soft linen. Her only remaining goal? To scrap together at least a semblance of composure together, strictly to get out of this alive. And Thea was certainly someone she could rely on in that department. 'We won't fucking die here!' She felt warm against her, held steady in every possible way. Her embrace offered her the safe sensation she received when she snuggled in between the sheets and pressed her head to her pillow to go to sleep at night. (Perhaps while listening to one of her favorite playlists, to add that cherry on top.) Never before had she ever gleaned such a feeling from another person. Honestly, the only one who had come this close was Raoul. But even then, whatever she and Thea shared was distinctly different. For reasons. Reasons which would remain unspecified while the inside of her head contained a tornado of incoherent chaos. Whatever those reasons were, they made her heart skip and her toes curl in the water. 'The bastard isn't even real!' Thea said and Clara began to stir, if only partway.

"That so? How well do you really know her, missy? Not enough, I'd wager." His voice barged in again, pushing her back down a few inches on her steep climb to recovery. "Don't you think she took it suspiciously well when you told her you killed a woman? There's a reason for that. Oughta be cautious of her. Good people just don't act like that. Nah. Whoever stole my Beatrice away replaced her with a mute little she-devil from hell." The stream pushed harder against their calves and... noticing the way Thea's arms tightened instinctively in response? Well, it did things to her all right. Enough to at least partly distract her from the insult. It used to frighten her. Now, though, standing at a reasonable distance away from that past did she understand just how delusional he sounded. A storm was gathering, carried in her voice and whipping in the wind around them. She, too, got the feeling that it was leading towards something.

Clara noticed a bright light blazing in her peripheral and her eyes widened slightly when she realized that they were flaming papers. They rained down like comets, emerging from the expanse of darkness above their heads. Up close, she discovered they were pages of her old sketchbook. Each one was slathered with drawings and scribbled stories-- containing the pre-teen angst and romantic notions she might have cringed to look back on as an adult. And maybe she would have, if it was kept lovingly in a storage box for her later perusal. Still intact, in other words. Given that it didn't even exist anymore, it did nothing but fill her with a distinctly melancholic feeling. She remembered the urge to scream rising and dying in her throat, the way she'd stretched to reach with all of her might as he tore it up above her head. Then he struck the match. After burning her fingers in her attempt to salvage it, she had to accept the reality and give up. Now they were burning up all around them, shriveling away as they touched down on the surface of the water.

A younger Clara had watched in agony as those pages were reduced to ashes. The fact that she was catching glimpses of them now...

'The bastard isn't even real!' Thea's words resonated once more, putting another crack in that makeshift shield she attempted to hold up. Oh. That was true, wasn't it? He wasn't any bit as real as those pages were. They were memories, figments of her past. (A byproduct of this place that was stolen from her mind. In the end, it wasn't him. It wasn't, no matter how convincing he may have sounded.) And they couldn't hurt her. Or rather, they shouldn't be able to hurt her. Not physically, anyway. In this place, however, what should and shouldn't be possible hardly mattered at all. Still. Clara felt halfway inclined to smack herself. How had she fallen so hard for these tricks?

"My gun can deal with the fact that you're not six, you punk." Gun? Click. Well, great. He held a gun now, nonchalantly waving it to and fro as he spoke. Because of course it was leading to this. Of course it was. (Flashes reeled through her mind. The rabbit plush that recorded audio when she pressed the paw, the rising volume of his threats, the gun she discovered and finally the shot. The blood.) In retrospect, her horror upon hearing his voice again was completely justified, considering the last time she interacted directly her papa was... "Let's see if you have anything to say after I shoot your friend, Clara." But that was the past and it didn't matter now. Now, what was more important was--

Clara reciprocated, holding Thea just as tightly.

"No." Clara finally bit back. The power that one word held must have been great. Then there was a loud 'snaaap' and she flinched, thinking he'd pulled the trigger-- until she noticed it was instead a great, bright zigzag of lightning crackling down. From the place where the earth had broken apart beneath it, a stony, spiral staircase groaned like something ancient and tired as it emerged. Rising up, up, up to who knows where. Rain poured down at this instant as well, causing the stream to rise even higher. "You heard her. We're not going to die here." She swallowed hard, noticing the water was creeping up her thighs now. "Th--Thea, I think we need to climb."

 

[Syntra]

…well. Getting a sneak peek into her not-yet-gf’s traumatic past wasn’t exactly what Thea had expected from her dragon-slaying adventure, but here they fucking were. Woo hoo! And, by that, she actually meant ‘uh oh.’ Man oh man, wasn’t this awkward? Like, fucking awkward? Clara, whose second name might as well have been Miss Secretive, likely didn’t want her to witness this-- obviously, Thea wasn’t in her head, but she just had this HunchTM. All the patterns so far had supported the conclusion, at least! So, pray tell, what scenario was likely to unfold now, with the proverbial cat out of the bag? Clara realizing that sharing was caring and her knowing about her scumbag dad changed literally nothing, or her companion pulling away because ‘oh nooo, my pride’? Not to rain on anyone’s (mostly her) parade, but to the brunette, option a) seemed like the probable development here. Just, you couldn’t force people into these situations, y’know? That would be like, uhhh… like holding someone at gunpoint just because they didn’t want to donate to charity. As in, helloooo? The act being voluntarily was the entire fucking point here, and you could bet your ass it would come back to bite you if you violated the standard protocol. So, in other words, shit was fucked because Clara’s nightmare dad had no real concept of privacy! Aw, sheesh. How dense did you have to be to be in order to miss the point so hard? …and how pointlessly cruel, really, to make Clara lean on her like that. Clara, to whom physical touch was usually some kind of poison! Needless to say, no, her friend did not need to share what she’d gone through with that pathetic excuse for a father-- Thea could imagine, and quite vividly at that.)

Ah, awesome! Yet another proof that the fucker wasn’t real, served right on a silver platter. Even if Clara’s dad had somehow found out about their little trip and, like, teleported there, he still wouldn’t have known the details about her shanking the bitch, right? Sure, sure, he could have watched the news, but he wouldn’t have witnessed Clara’s reaction to it, or any of the personal details. Ah ha! Thwarted yet again, by Thea’s superior observational skills. Sherlock Holmes should stand aside, really, ‘cause his fucking era had ended. “Yeah?” the brunette raised her eyebrow. “You think I am gonna be nitpicky about what constitutes being a good fucking person? Me, the actual murderer? You’re barking up the wrong fucking tree, pal.” Like, even if his ~implicationy implications~ were indeed true and not some bullshit manipulation, then so fucking what? Thea sure as hell wasn’t going to clutch her pearls over the murder of… well, someone who had deserved it, probably. (Society in general just needed to chill out, you know? Not every life was sacred, and pretending otherwise was the equivalent of claiming that ~all people were beautiful~. Don’t get her wrong, Thea could see where the misconception had come from-- way back, in the Dangerous and Dark TimesTM, when smallpox had still been able to eradicate entire villages, people really had been a rare resource. These days, though? Healthcare was advanced enough to save pretty much anyone who was worth saving, which meant that they could switch to quality > quantity! Blah blah blah, something about ethics having to develop with the times.)

“Plus, sometimes, killing a bitch is the best thing you can do,” Thea shrugged. “Public service, really, even if the cowards will never admit it. And, surprise, surprise, I believe that Clara chose wisely!” Coming from this guy? Yeah, let’s just say that what should have sown discord among them came off as praise, actually. (Anyone who unironically used words like she-devil, especially in reference to their own damn children, was not to be trusted. Thea herself had learned that lesson ages ago, when… well. That wasn’t important now, was it? Hahaha.) “For sure, let’s get out of here,” the brunette nodded, unwilling to see whether ghost!guns worked as well as regular guns. “Stupid fucking ghosts with stupid fucking grudges,” she muttered, hoping to distract Clara from… everything, really. Her day had been shit enough even without daddy turning up, and that visit must have turned the shittiness levels up to fucking eleven. “Why is it always like this? Why can they never return to say hi to their favorite people and bring them some heavenly chocolates? When I die,” she grabbed a protrusion, only to pull herself up, “I will return each year to give random people random gifts. Well, that, and to see whether the videogames have recovered. Is it just me, or are they really getting more and more uninspired each fucking year? Like, I may just be wearing nostalgia goggles here, but...”

…but, but, but. What was it that she’d meant to say, again? It was kinda hard to remember, really, considering the fact that they emerged in what looked like an enchanted fucking forest, straight out of some Disney movie. Weren’t they, uh, supposed to be indoors? No? Okay, no. Never fucking mind. “I wanna say I’m shocked, but that would be a goddamn lie. I mean, whoever this kid was, it’s obvious that their mind worked like random numbers generator.” The validity of that statement was confirmed immediately, too, when a golden fish peeked out of the nearby pond, her eyes large and unexpressive. “Ugh, there are two of you? Fine, fine. Don’t think that means you’ll get more wishes out of me, though. Nope, nope! Quite the contrary. The two of you get… one and a half wish each, I think. Yes, yes, that, and no more. What will it be, then? Hurry up, I don’t have the whole day for you!”

 

[ellarose]

Clara scaled the stairs silently. Not because she didn't want to speak (although in her case, it would be a fair assessment to say that this was at least partially true at all times) mainly, it was because the horrific gashes on her back stung and pulsed whenever she dared to move a muscle. Only five steps upward and she was already gasping for breath. Expending her precious air on words would only make her ascension all the more unpleasant. She wouldn't stop climbing for the pain, not even after she slipped on the rain-slicked steps and cut her hand. Why would she slow down, after all, when a monster tailor-fit to her worst fears remained at the bottom? When the water continued to rise? No, she would get the heck out of there first and suffer for the consequences for pushing herself later. Nothing would distract her from escaping that mess. Not even Thea's voice. She understood well enough that her friend was talking (as usual, really) but she wasn't really hearing her. The cadence of her voice created a solacing effect, regardless of the specific words that were being said. Really. Thea could ramble at length about something as boring as, say, automobile radiators and lull her into a state of moderate contentment in this wild world. Had she picked up on that at some point? Was this some unspoken effort to make her feel better? The idea of being taken care of in that way was...

Approaching the top, Clara caught the end of Thea's anecdote involving nostalgia goggles... and the rest faded as the breathtaking scenery took focus. Or perhaps in all actuality, instead of outright fading, Thea had simply quieted upon catching sight of it. Which, yeah, that was relatable. Together they were speechless, if only for a moment. Random numbers generator or not, the forest was beautiful. If they had the fortune of peaceful context, Clara would have loved to explore it further. It would have been perfectly quaint to wear a pretty sundress and pack a picnic lunch. She could laze in the grass for hours and wait quietly to see if any animals passed by. A blue bird, a rabbit, or-- well, she was going to include the squirrels and their cute, bushy little tails, too. However, her squirrel-related trauma from yesterday was still a trifle too fresh for the mental image to constitute anything other than a wince. An animal showed up not a moment later, as if the thought itself had conjured it. Only it spoke and came from the nearby pond and was... not at all what she expected. A wish fish?

Random numbers generator indeed. Spiders, wish-granting fish... was there a pattern here that she just wasn't seeing? Maybe there was some obscure fairytale, myth or fable it was derived from?

Either way, having a bit of nonsense to focus on may have been a blessing in disguise. Clara was just about ready to pass out and thinking about-- certain things-- did nothing to improve her condition. They only weighed her down. With a deep sigh, she lowered herself to the grass by the pond to get a closer look. Ah. How wonderful it was to sit! Her shoulders sank with relief the instant her body recognized that it was getting a much-needed break. That didn't mean she could let her guard down. Oh no, she knew never to let her guard down in a place like this. She gathered her thoughts and readjusted her posture, all business.

"I suppose you have rules." Clara cut in cooly, automatically touching her hand to Thea's forearm as if reaching for the pause button on her music player. (Although it'd be awfully naive of her to believe that might stop Thea Holloway. All she could do was hope, really.) Her new friend was courageous, charming, and-- ah-- admirably creative. She was also impulsive. Not that that was a bad thing! Clearly, living life with a certain spontaneity had given her excellent reflexes and adaptability to rely on whenever she was in a pinch. But wishes are inherently tricky things. Thea could wish for anything from a capybara to gliding by on roller-skates to an infinite dish of ice cream... or you know, perhaps break the laws of physics for fun. Clarifying the rules was an absolute necessity before either of them said a word! If she could take some sort of precautionary measures to ebb the chaos even a little, that would be spectacular. "No wishing for more wishes, no raising the dead. That kind of thing."

"...Do your wishes have any severe consequences or side effects we should know about?" Sometimes characters in stories wished to heal their friend's wounds, for example and another character would fall and break their tailbone at the same time to balance the universe out. Sometimes a character simply wished for something they would later come to regret and use their third wish to, well, wish away whatever they had wished previously. There were too many unknown variables here for her to make an educated decision here! Asking to have their wounds healed would be ideal. Clara doesn't know how much longer she can go on like this, bleeding down her back without any means to tend to her wounds. Seeing that Thea's burns and injuries were healed as well would be another weight lifted from her shoulders. Hm... using their wishes to obtain vital information could also be nice. Still. She only had one and a half wishes. There were three between the two of them, three potential advantages they could gain moving forward in this place. She glanced curiously at Thea. "Why don't we decide on our half-wishes first? I suppose we both need to agree on what to wish for in that case." Alright, moment of truth. She had to know where her friend's thoughts were at. "What do you think, Thea?"

 

[Syntra]

Yay, free wishes! In the words of the immortal Gordon Ramsay: 'Finally, some good fucking food.' In a way, Thea kinda considered it to be reparations for all the bullshit they'd gone through-- obviously, they deserved a fucking break, and short of them receiving free massage coupons, this was the best compensation ever. In fact, she could - and that was a galaxy-sized thought - wish for free massage coupons! (But, hmm, hmm. Wouldn't it be a waste of a wish? Massages, as awesome as they were, could also be acquired through... uh, less than supernatural means. This was a fucking golden fish, straight out of that fairy tale! Asking it for something mundane would have been, like, the equivalent of going to a five-star restaurant and choosing to dine on butter. And, really, who would want to be that butter-chugging fool? Not Thea Holloway, that was for certain!) "Wait, wait, wait," she pursed her lips when Clara asked for her ~clarifications~. "Don't give the fish any ideas, my dude. Do you want restrictions? Like, I don't get why you'd speak those into existence."

"Uhhh... you are aware that they would have existed regardless of her question, right?" the fish pointed out.

"Well, not in my world," Thea folded her arms on her chest. "I'm pretty sure the customer protection laws would agree with me, too. You cannot make anyone sign a deal without making all the conditions clear, pal, and, newsflash! Contracts can also be spoken in this day and age. Therefore, you failing to clarify everything that needs to be clarified would be, yup, you guessed it, your fault. Any lawyer would rip you into fucking shreds, really."

Exasperated, the fish let out a few angry bubbles. "Yeah? Well, my cousin is a shark and I bet that he would be the one to rip you into shreds, young lady."

"Okay, from the biological standpoint, that seems pretty fucking unlikely to--"

"Biology schmiology," the fish frowned. "I'm a talking fish, in case you haven't noticed. But, yes, Clara, since you are asking, there are restrictions. I just won't tell you what they are, because I don't feel like it. If you happen to ask me for one of those, I'll simply do the opposite of what you want. There, are you happy, Thea?" Which, of fucking course that she wasn't! In a weird way, however, the development also soothed her-- mostly because, yeah, bitch-ass supernaturals trying to get them involved in shady deals sounded a lot more on brand for their little adventure so far. Anything else just seemed like a fucking trap, y'know? Not that this wasn't trap, but this one was more obvious, with the metallic spikes gleaming in the sunlight. In other words, none of that wolf in sheep's clothing bullshit!

"See, Clara, I knew that trying to find out more would get us in trouble," Thea nodded sagely, as if she hadn't caused the catastrophe in the first place. Nope, the fish blowing up on them had been a total fucking coincidence! Nothing to see here, ladies and gentlemen. "Anyway, I still think we should take advantage. You don't come across golden fish every day, I think. Well, not unless you work in an aquarium? But I kinda doubt they have the ones that grant wishes in there, too. I mean, had that been true, they would have gotten better jobs. Not throwing any shade here, though yeah."

But, okay, okay, okay. What should they wish for, then? According to the Intergalactic Laws of Fairness, each of them owning one half of the wish should translate into it benefiting them equally, and... well, let's say that Thea didn't really think that that would be easy to achieve. Like, Clara seemed like the serious sort, didn't she? So, something told her she wouldn't exactly appreciate it being spent on a trip into the unexplored depths of the universe, or stuff like that. Big sigh. "I mean, I guess that asking for our injuries to be healed would be the obvious step? Except that it may be on the fish's shitlist, and the opposite of healing is... well, I got bad news for you, Clara, but I think that would be killing us." Yeah, not really what you'd call a reassuring prospect! Fucking hell, this was getting more complicated by the second-- like one of those riddles that were meant to test your understanding of propositional logic, really. (The most tragic thing about it? That the brunette had always s u c k e d at those. Like, fuck off with your semantic traps, would you? Nobody aside from sadistic professors cared, anyway! ...well, sadistic professors and sadistic quasi-demonic entities, as it turned out, but those were basically the same thing.)

"So," Thea narrowed her eyes, "I guess that we should be strategic with our wording. Sneaky. Super, super sneaky." Yep, the cogs in her brain were turning visibly, so much that you could see the steam rising from her ears! ...and, as always, the results were glorious. "Say, Clara," she smirked, "if you were to ask the fish to kill our demon for us, how would you do it in a way that would prevent us from being fucked over if it, uh, backfired?" 'Cause that was the direction they should follow, none of that hippie healer-y shit. Their wounds sucked, Thea wasn't going to deny that, but the human body came with a nifty auto-regenerative system-- in time, it would repair itself on its own and everything would be just peachy. The demon, though? Well, he wouldn't have the decency to just drop dead, the brunette suspected!

 

[ellarose]

Clara sighed. Thea might have just met her match in this fish. Both of them simultaneously made her want to drop her face into her hands, lie down on the ground and give up all hope. (Okay, that may have been a dramatic interpretation of her exhaustion, but still. Between having a gun pointed at her head, leaving her home-- and essentially her whole life behind-- at least for the foreseeable future, her crippling anxiety of being unsure of where Spooks was, jumping through fiery hoops, almost drowning, having her back slashed open and her past pried into? Wouldn't it be fair to say that she was having a terrible day?) Anyway, Thea's attitude wasn't going to do them any favors. And if the fish really was in a hurry like it said, wouldn't it be far more efficient to tell them the restrictions instead of making them play the guessing game? She might have pointed that out... but considering sharks were a subject of conversation she wasn't inclined to continue, she strategically decided to keep her mouth shut. Although she was curious about how exactly their family tree worked as well. Was the fish's cousin adopted, perhaps? As sentient creatures capable of speech, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume they had such systems in place. And the bonnethead shark in particular is known to eat copious amounts of seagrass. Veganism was a valid choice! Between a shark and a fish, it was the equivalent of encountering romantic vampires in fiction that fell for their prey and went on those strict non-human diets. You know, until the narrative decided it was time for them to go on a (temporary, strictly temporary) evil rampage, because danger and bloodlust was supposed to be sexy or something.

Ah, there she goes. This wasn't worth thinking about anymore, was it? Nope. Moving on, then!

"It's going to backfire." Clara countered dispassionately, tilting her head. Not that the prospect of banishing the demon in their heads for good didn't tempt her. That'd be a convenient way to solve their problems, sure, but it was also way too easy. What, did Thea think they were going to cleverly figure out the wording and then wham-bam-kaboom, kill a demon? (A demon who seemingly didn't have a physical form to kill on their plane of existence, for that matter?) Besides, if her theory was correct, then this fish must be a couple of tiers beneath the demon on the supernatural hierarchy. "Earlier, the ringleader called you..." Her eyes shifted as she searched for the correct wording. "Excuse me. He called the demon possessed version of you 'master'. The probability that the fish sees him the same way is high enough that I wouldn't count on getting any leverage out of that one."

'Learning your place, dove?' The demon chuckled in her head. She ignored him.

"Killing the demon would pose the same risk that healing our wounds would. If the opposite happens, he may get some sort of advantage. Besides, we don't know how or if he can be killed." Clara shook her head. She had to be getting through here. Stick in the mud or not, getting too ambitious with their wishes here might get them both killed. "It's too risky." Her head throbbed. "Way too risky."

Was the golden fish a distraction? Dazzle them with the concept of wishes and advantages when, in reality, there was something else they needed to be focusing on? Mustering her strength, she pulled herself to her feet and began wandering around the general vicinity. She examined the stones by the pond and the trees as if she might find another clue there.

"To smite our demon, I'm afraid we'll have to do it the hard way." Clara narrowed her eyes with thought. "We could use it to meet with the ghost here. If we ask to be taken as close as we can get to the child here, the opposite would take us as far away as possible. Meaning, most likely, the entrance. Somehow, I'm assuming that our wishes won't expand beyond the boundaries of this place. So we won't end up halfway across the world or anything. Or in the middle of the ocean." She sighed. "Or, ah, we could use it for information that won't change the status quo. We could ask for the ghost's name, perhaps, or more details on what we ought to be doing next.” She pursed her own lips, then. "You think that's boring, don't you?"

 

[Syntra]

Pffft, Clara and her """logic""". Why the hell did she have to a) drag that cursed concept into everything, b) be always right? Like, yeah, Thea knew that she had a point, but that was what made her so mad in the first place! (Just, problems had no business being this fucking annoying, man. They were like... like spider webs, sticking to your hands no matter how hard you tried to get rid of them, and that shit? That shit wasn't cool. In fact, the brunette would argue that it was the very opposite of cool-- as in, did they not know that they wouldn't earn anyone's respect by being this clingy? Any self-respecting individual would, you know, just leave when they realized they weren't wanted! ...demons and self-respect didn't go well together, however, as it turned out. The combo was about as harmonious as fish and ice-cream, which, nope, nope, nope! Even a certified crazy like Thea knew that you, uh... shouldn't feed ice-cream to fish? Or fish to ice-cream, come to think of it, and you especially shouldn't break the natural laws by making fish-flavored ice-cream. Certain taboos were in place for a reason, thank you very much!)

"Yeah," Thea admitted, not even trying to obscure the truth from her not-quite-gf. Why should she? Lies were poison to trust, and if the demon's pitiful attempts to drive a wedge between them had taught her anything, it was that they shouldn't provide convenient openings for him. "Like, sure, it is boring. If there was a National Bureau of Boredom, this sure as hell would earn the official stamp of approval! Doesn't mean that it's wrong, though. Porridge is boring, though it's, like, nutritious and shit. Sometimes, boring is good."

'Pffft,' the demon laughed, the sound of it resonating in her ears endlessly. 'What is this, crow? I thought you were supposed to be the cool one, and instead you're reduced to... to this. Have all those dirty thoughts stained your mind as well? I have always figured it isn't quite as literal, but you never know with humans! Maybe thinking like this really can turn your brain into sewage.'

'Fuck off,' Thea recommended to him, her cheeks only a little redder than usual. 'I'm not gonna listen to armchair psychology bullshit from someone who unironically thinks that murdering kids is a swell goal to pursue.'

"What I wanted to say is, sure, okay, let's ask for info. The opposite of info is not getting info, which can't be that fucking bad, now can it? Like, I don't have it now and I'm relatively fine." Being stuck in a nightmarish location full of supernatural fucks that were out for their blood? Why, to Thea, that wasn't even notable anymore! It almost felt like an afterthought-- a small, unpleasant part of life, akin to the ever-present risk of your day being ruined by sudden downpour. (Well, fine, not exactly akin to that, as downpour didn't tend to want to rip your soul to shreds, but still! You could only go so far with metaphors, my dude.)

"Alright, let's just... ask the fish," Thea shrugged, unimpressed but resigned to her fate. (She'd still have a wish of her own, right? Right? Something totally epic to shake things up with, not basic recon work, and... oooh, wait, wait, wait! What if she, like, used it to get Clara a surprise gift? Her not-gf had been right in that these things could easily bite them in the ass, so yup, maybe asking for Important ShitTM wouldn't be the wisest move out there. Her personal crusade to convince Clara that romance wasn't fucking dead, on the other hand? Low risk, and yet 10/10 in terms of investment return! Ahhh, Thea could congratulate herself for yet another groundbreaking plan, it seemed.) "Fine, fish. Our shared wish is that we... uh, want to meet the kid who is responsible for this. Can you do that, or is the task too grand for your stunted reptilian brain?"

"I'm not a reptilian," the fish pursed its lips, somehow, despite it not technically being anatomically possible. "Truly, the state of public education is horrifying to me! To think that you are supposed to be the future of this country... no, no, I won't even think about it. Don't need to get more wrinkles. Do you know how hard it is to find a plastic surgeon who would agree to work underwater, hmm? Anyway, sure, I can bring you to Ian. Or Ian to you? Doesn't matter, I think." The creature raised its fins, only to clap mightily-- once, twice, thrice, and, bizarrely enough? To Thea's ears, it sounded like a gong more than anything else, really. (A black gong, wrapped in a ghostly shroud. And, no, the brunette didn't know what that meant, actually, so stop wasting your breath on pointless questions already. It was just a VibeTM, and like a good narrator, Thea didn't want to keep it secret!)

...bubbles appeared on the surface, then. At the beginning, there were few of them, but they danced, and whirled, and soon enough? Soon enough, there were so many of them that they resembled lace on a drowned bride's dress, or... uh, something similarly morbid. Honestly, Thea didn't even know where that one had come from! There was no time to trace its origins, though, because a boy's head emerged from the pond, his hair green like kelp and his eyes... uh, missing. Wow, okay. Creepy much?

"Why did you have to come up with such a boring wish?" the boy complained. "Ah, it's you, Bea. Well, I guess that explains everything, then! Still, I think it's awfully rude of you-- I made an amusement park for you and everything and you can't even spare a morsel of fun in exchange. How is that fair? Do you have any idea how lonely I've been, hmm? Because you had the audacity to abandon me, and grow up as well!" he pointed an accusatory finger in their general direction, a deep scowl on his lips. "I thought we all agreed that grown-ups were traitors. Is that not true anymore? What else has changed?!"

 

[ellarose]

"...Ian?" Clara mused aloud, as if saying his name might spark one of her long forgotten memories. She stared intently at the water, nothing coming to mind as it fizzed and bubbled and he finally emerged. Her chest tightened at the sight of him, but unlike with Lizzie's body, she refused to avert her eyes. Don't look away. She dared herself. All along she knew there were other children involved, besides themselves and Lizzie. That this place existed was even more proof of that fact. But seeing Ian himself truly puts it into perspective, just how despicable the people pursuing them are. How ruthless, how heartless. They were part of the reason why she chose to abandon her life to run off with Thea in the first place. They knew her name, her location, and on her own they would have snapped her up. Without Thea, she never would have had the gall to attack an officer or steal off in one of their cars. They would have come to her door with a trap. Abiding all the rules, she would have stepped right into it. She never would have escaped. Yeah... she meant what she said earlier, that Thea had changed everything. On her own she was as good as dead. And as far as she was concerned, she was going to lose that life either way. This one was different and, admittedly, scary as hell with it's unpredictability, but at least it was something. Anyway. As deep as her thoughts went, her expression screwed up and resembled a miffed kitten when he called her boring. Compared to porridge of all things and now this? 'That explains everything'-- what was that supposed to mean? Well, sorry that she was trying to use a little common sense to keep them from getting killed!

"I think you're mistaken. An amusement park, by definition, has to be amusing somehow. And neither of us are particularly amused by all this." Clara said, thankfully not sounding quite as offended as she felt. "Instead you nearly crashed our car, exploited us for free labor and--"

"Nerd." Ian didn't have eyes. But Clara suspected that if he had them, he would have rolled them just then. She was tempted to roll her own eyes in response, but held it together. Because she was an adult and wouldn't let this child get under her skin. "You were always such a nerd. With those big words." A beat and then his hand emerged from the water with a big splash as he pointed at Thea, "And she burned my tent down!"

Well, all right. Fine. Nerd wasn't a horrible insult, not nearly as horrible as boring was. In fact, Clara openly acknowledged that she was a nerd. And if Ian here thought he was going to fluster her with that one, he was sorely mistaken.

"Ahem. Technically, the demon burned your tent down. And fine, yes. I'm a boring nerd. But look at it this way. If you were that lonely, then maybe you should be happier that we used our first wish to bring you here. Isn't that better than torturing us from a distance? You get to insult me to my face." Clara blinked when Ian's face doubled. She realized, then, that it wasn't because this place was throwing the usual wackiness at them. It was just a byproduct of her own exhaustion and probably blood loss. Ah, this wasn't good. Pressing against a nearby tree, she sunk back down into the grass. She waved her hand dismissively, then, with an air of acceptance. "...By all means, get it all out of your system if you think it's fun." Maybe he hated her for some reason beyond her comprehension. Maybe that's why he tried to drown her, why he dug into her past and threw salt at her wounds.

"You're being dramatic." Ian sounded a little uncomfortable.

"I'm exhausted." Clara replied matter-of-factly. Exhausted enough that it might just bring her on the verge of tears, honestly. But she hasn't cried yet and won't start now. She sighed. "We've grown up. But we're here now. We can help you, if you let us. Like we helped Lizzie." Then she thought of how Thea calmed Lizzie down with her silver bracelet. Ah. It really was a nice gesture and it had made Lizzie so happy. Well. She might regret this later, especially if Ian specifically hates her guts, but she might as well try! A peace offering might turn this whole thing around. "Like I said earlier, that was just our first wish. I still have mine. Is there anything that you want?"

 

[Syntra]

Wow, wow, wow! Thea had always sorta assumed that Clara could have a commanding presence if she put her mind to it, but… wow, again. What a surge of energy! Okay, two questions: was it just her, or a) did her not-gf really resemble one of those strict elementary school teachers, and b) was the aforementioned association weirdly hot, actually? (The brunette had never really understood all those guys who claimed to be ~confused~ around their teachers-- like, people who unironically worshiped math just couldn’t be attractive, man. There had to be some sort of law against that! Could you even imagine how those dates might go? ‘Oh hello there, hottie. Your eyes are as beautiful as the countless stars in the sky!’ ‘Well, actually, according to the Scientific MethodTM, we can count the number of stars pretty accurately these. If you look at the equation that I have written down here, you can easily grasp that…’ In other words, nope, nope, nope! Sometimes, Thea did suffer from bouts of self-hatred, but they had never been quite as intense, thank you very much. …the power balance was kinda appealing, though. With the boring parts excluded, Thea could, hehe, imagine Clara ~punishing~ her for not doing her homework or some shit, and… Focus! she reprimanded herself. Yeah, yeah, fantasies were all fine and dandy, especially when reality simply didn’t want to deliver, but something told her that dwelling in her Lalaland might not have been the smartest choice with this… this Ian guy around. Sigh.)

“Don’t be so rude, Ian,” she rolled her eyes. “You’d be boring, too, if you had to spend all of your energy on not fucking dying.” Aw, shit, no, that’s not what she wanted to hear! “Not that Clara is boring, of course,” Thea waved her hand and chuckled nervously. “That was just a… a hypothetical example. The most hypothetical-est example of them all.” Was that a word? Probably not, at least according to those who brought human sacrifices to the altar of Proper EnglishTM, but thankfully, Thea had more personality than that. Instead of just following blindly, she aimed to become a leader in her own right, and invent her own words! Was there a better way to leave your footprints in the make-up of history? Nope, Thea didn’t think so. “In fact, you can disregard it. It’s too fucking divorced from reality, my dude.”

“Ah, Thea,” Ian nodded, his expression unreadable. “That explains everything, too.”

“Hey, what do you mean by that? I dunno what’s going on, but I can recognize slander when it’s beinf directed at me.”

‘Hmm, can you?’ the demon chuckled. ‘Ah, crow, how naïve you are! If only you knew what dove really thinks about you…’

‘Does that never get old for you? These pathetic supervillain-tier speeches, I mean?’ One would have said that he’d get bored of it eventually, but nooo, apparently it was fun to do the same things over and over while expecting different fucking results. Wasn’t that the textbook definition of madness, hmm? ‘Madness’ seemed to be their new normal, though, so in a weird way, this actually kind of checked out.

“What I want?” Ian eyed her suspiciously, as much as someone without actual eyes could do that. (Where were they? Somehow, Thea doubted that he had forgotten them on his bedside table-- more than likely, the bastards had cut them out so they could eat them with their caviar, or something similarly well-adjusted. Or like, was that supposed to be some sick sort of symbolism? ‘The guy knows nothing, so let’s show to the world just how blind he is!’) “What I want, Bea, is something that I can never have. I mean, even a boring nerd like you must be aware of that. You may guess three times what it is!”

“Uhh, you wanna live?” Thea tried her luck. “Also, stop insulting her. We’re actually fucking trying to help, you know? And teenage angst is distinctly not helpful.”

“Well, unlike someone here, I’m stuck being a teen!” Ian exploded. “Really, you’ve always been about as sensitive as the average steak knife, Thea. Good to see that something hasn’t changed, at the very least. Also, no, you’re wrong! I don’t want to live, dummy. I’d have to grow up, and then I’d turn as disgusting as you are. Bleurgh, to think that your own body can betray you like that!” …excuse her? Growing up was the one thing Thea had done properly, with her great figure and great hair and great… everything, really! Clearly, envy was making him say those things.

“But, seeing as you are hopeless, I’ll tell you what I want. I wanna taste booze,” the guy said, shamelessly. (For that, at least, Thea could must up some kind of grudging respect for him-- directness may not have ruled the world, but it fucking should have!)

“Booze?” she repeated, in disbelief. “Well, then just go get some? Technically, you’re a minor, I guess, but I don’t think anyone will judge you here. Like, I don’t think the law covers corpses of minors, too.”

“Well, I’d think so, too,” Ian snapped, her voice suddenly thunderous, “but the fish refuses to provide it!”

“Someone has to think of this young man’s development here,” the fish waved her fins indignantly. “He won’t do it, so obviously, I have to step in. And before you ask, no, I won’t help you with the alcohol! I just know that you’d pour it down his throat.”