Chapter 22: Curse
redspah
the gay agenda
- Location
- Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Chapter 22: Curse
For the longest time, Sue could only stare at the despairing heap.
Her rational decision-making kept urging her to get out of here and ask someone less crippled for help with… whatever this being was. After all, as acutely as she could feel their sorrow, there was still the possibility of all this being a trap of some sort, of this creature trying to lure her in closer.
And right beside it, the equally likely possibility of them being genuinely sad because their costume broke. Why they would disguise themselves as Comet, Sue didn't know. But what she did know, with utter certainty, was that her heart was firmly in favor of comforting them.
Step aside, brain.
With a nervous shake, the Forest Guardian sat down on the rough sand of the playground, within arm's reach of the obscured stranger. Whatever they were, they seemed to have sensed her joining them, growing still in anticipation. It didn't help Sue's nerves any, but by then, she was too set in her path to pay any attention to them.
"Hey... you," Sue said. She felt a tinge of confusion join the sloshing despair beneath the off-white rag, letting her know they had at least heard her. Her words weren't doing her any more favors here than with anyone else in Moonview, but by that point, Sue knew full well that it wasn't the important part.
All that mattered was that she was here.
Her hand shook as she lowered it onto the small mound, doubts growing by the moment. Even beside the absurd possibility of it being a trap, them reacting badly to an unexpected touch could end similarly badly, even without any underlying ill intent. Maybe they hated being touched, maybe they were poisonous, maybe they'd run away the instant she made contact.
Many awful possibilities, none of which mattered—Sue wanted to help them, help someone, and that's what she'd do. She felt the hidden creature freeze as she laid her hand on top of their disguised body, the immediate sensations... oddly pleasant. They were warm, like a living being, and very soft, downright squishy, underneath the rugged canvas.
Regardless of how they looked or didn't look, her touch had a marked effect on them. She felt their sadness ease out with her every breath, the gentle movements of her petting hand working away at their anxious bind. The shift was gradual, but once Sue had noticed it, she only redoubled her affection—shakes turned to gentle pets and one hand was joined by another; anything to help calm them down more. "There, there, I'm here," she whispered, leaning in closer. "I'm he—"
As unexpectedly pleasant as their interaction was so far, the sight off to the side threatened to ruin it all in an instant.
A pitch-black tentacle, tipped with three claw-like extensions, was creeping out from under the rag. Her heart hammered and mind screamed for her to do what she should've done in the first place and run; the sudden situation left her paralyzed—and then, the blackness wrapped itself around her hand.
It felt... really nice.
Their arm was similarly warm to the rest of their hidden body, and just as soft. To the best of Sue's ability to make out, it was also much more amorphous than it looked, the black tissue striking her as more of a gel than an actual well-defined limb. They may have anxiously frozen once Sue had lifted her other hand, but relaxed even further once she gently grabbed their tentacle, fingers brushing along its soft surface.
Little hidden... slime creature?
As small as they were physically, Sue could only estimate their mental age. They sure didn't feel adult; the immense swing of emotions between being provided and starved of attention made that clear. Most likely a child, but anything beyond that was impossible to determine.
Suppose taking a peek under the rag could help?
Now that their disguise had been entirely blown, there shouldn't have been any issue with discarding the rest of it. And, whatever they might've looked like underneath, it sure beat the well-worn, stained rag that currently comprised the entirety of their appearance.
Just had to take it off. "Everything's good, little one," Sue beamed, grabbing the dirtied piece of fabric. "Lemme take that thing off, the scare's over—"
...
...
Sue's eyes stared at the pitch-black blob, and the blob stared back.
The more she tried to focus on it, the less she could think at all. Its dimensions were entirely off; it was simultaneously too small and too large to be real. The impossible stimuli filled Sue with vertigo as her mind locked up while trying to process it, left unable to even keep her balance or breathe—
The next thing Sue knew, the hidden creature had scooted away in terror, and her lungs were on fire.
She doubled over and gasped, breaking into painful coughs once she'd come to. Her head spun like she'd spent the last few minutes in a blender; her chest hurt like she'd been starved of oxygen—she couldn't even maintain her balance, arms shaking as she sat back up.
As overwhelming and terrifying as those sensations were, they weren't entirely unfamiliar. Sue's eyes went wide as she remembered feeling this exact indescribable sensation a few days ago, right here at the playground, even if nowhere near as intense. She was walking over with Comet in her arms, and then she saw—
She saw—
She saw them.
"Th-that was you, wasn't it?" she mumbled out in between panting. Their distorted squeak, muffled further by the rag covering them, finished snapping Sue back to awareness, the situation finally clicking together.
She'd looked at their real body, her brain blue-screened, and now they were freaking out in—in fear.
Oh, no.
She scrambled over beside them, putting on the calmest voice she had as she reassured them, "Hey, hey, it's all good." To her relief, her touch immediately deflated much of their panic—and then some, the bulk of their obscured body scooting towards her and pressing itself into her side.
As if wanting to be as close as possible.
The resumed routine of one hand petting the top of their disguise and the other holding their tentacle calmed the stranger down, together with Sue. Whatever the hell had caused... that when she looked at their body thankfully didn't extend to their limbs, their blackness safely non-mind-melting. The more she thought about it, the sadder the entire situation became, especially once she'd connected the dots leading up to now.
They saw her carrying Comet. They put together this costume to look like him, joined the other kids, and then it all fell apart, anyway. The question of 'but why a costume like Comet specifically' was answered as soon as she'd asked it, the realization forcing a couple of tears down her cheeks.
"It's because I was holding Comet, wasn't it?" Sue whimpered, the hand holding their tentacle growing that much shakier. "Holding him while you... were alone."
She still had zero idea just what the hell this creature was, but in that moment, Sue wanted nothing more than to keep them company for as long as they needed to. Hell, if they really were a child like she'd suspected them to be, it'd make it all even sadder, as they would obviously be looking for protection. For a home, for a family, everything the little ones in the two villages had rightfully taken for granted.
Her sniffs were heard right away, adding worried confusion to the stranger's whirlpool of emotions. An extra sized dose of affection eased them out as Sue chewed through what she was to do now.
The worries about whether this was an actual child, about who would take care of them if so. The very acute concern of 'just what do I do to keep them from melting the brains of all of Moonview with their appearance'. And the equally baffling question of what were they, even? A mountain sized fort of confusion in her head, and exactly nothing for answers.
Sundance would've known what to do...
The thought stung deeply, making Sue physically flinch. It was as true as it was profoundly unhelpful, especially now. Sundance wasn't around at the moment; she couldn't approach her for advice, but it didn't matter. The little one still needed her help, and she'd do everything in her power to provide.
And the very first step in that process was figuring out how to move them safely. For that, knowing their... composition would help a lot. That word felt so, so wrong referring to a person, but with their body shape feeling so undefined, it was the most applicable one Sue could think of.
Looking under the cover was a bad idea—she was sure of that much—but what about reaching in there instead? Slowly, Sue withdrew one hand and moved it down to the nearest edge of their protective rag. At the count of three, she reached in, bracing herself for whatever might happen.
It felt... just as nice.
Sue's hand was surrounded by the same soft warmth that comprised the lil' one's tentacle, but this time from all around. It reminded her of putty, but with none of the associated sliminess—and alive, somehow. As much as her movement had startled them, making them shift and flow under the cover, they soon calmed back down as Sue continued to hold their tentacle and shower them with affection without the rag in the way.
Them being amorphous wasn't much help when it came to moving them around, though. Sue grew steadily distraught at not coming up with anything before an idea clicked into place. A tremendously stupid idea—the kind the little slime creature would've been angry to hear if they could read her thoughts—but it was the only one she had, making it the best one by walk-over.
Why not... scoop them up?
They clearly weren't leaking through the canvas, so there was no concern of them potentially spilling out while she carried them around. She wouldn't need to bring anything else, since she could just carry them in the rag they were hiding under. The entire dumb idea could've gone wrong in a dozen different ways, at least half of them leaving the lil' one exposed in the middle of Moonview, their curse applying to everyone around,
But overall, she was just about ready to give it a shot.
Giving them a heads-up would help a lot, though. As would... asking them about all this.
While Sue's mind tried to avoid kicking herself down too hard for not thinking to link up with them sooner, her brain was in the middle of alleviating that exact concern, repeating her little ritual. She grit her teeth as the injury on her front fin flared up, but ultimately persevered, trying to banish the built-up aching with deep breaths once done.
It was time to finally greet them. "H-hey there, little one. My name is Sue," she smiled.
Silence.
Sue blinked at the absence of any response—not beyond the emotion of curiosity, that is. Her connection was spotty, sure, but there was no way it'd entirely block out their communication. She supposed emotions could work to convey their intent in a pinch, but something less ambiguous would've been appreciated.
The hidden being felt... really spaced out, now that she could sense them closer.
Let's lay the idea out and see how they react. "I want to move you over to everyone else. Would it be alright with you if I carried you in your... disguise?"
She had no more luck than before, especially not with their reaction being this ambiguous. Clinging to her could mean many things as a response to this specific question, not helping her any, and forcing her to go through with her idea first, and ask for forgiveness afterwards.
Fuck's sake.
Still, Sue wanted to run the steps by them first, even if just for herself. If they understood any of it, great, but either way, it'd help her a lot to have the entire plan laid out in her mind. "I'm gonna f-fold the edges of the rag underneath you. Then I'll close my eyes, flip you around, and tie the corners together. Is that alright?"
Once more, there were no words, only calmness. As much of a confirmation as she was gonna get.
Wasting no more time, she went through her steps, shaking throughout. She kept an unerring focus on the little one's emotions all along, sighing in relief whenever a larger movement had them only grow a bit confused. Edges folded, now the potentially nasty part.
Sue didn't expect them to be so light.
As terrified as they got by her staring at them directly earlier, they noticed her eyes being closed this time, remaining only slightly unnerved as their disguise kept moving underneath them. Sue's hands blindly felt around their pudding-like body until she found the corners of their rag, the motions that followed determined and shaky. One knot, second knot, time to open her eyes—and hope they wouldn't immediately fall out.
To Sue's utmost surprise, her plan worked. A small bundle rested on the sand beside her, the being inside confused more than anything else. A couple of dark tendrils were reaching out through whichever openings there were, but the bulk of their body remained contained. Behold, a baby in a bag.
Getting up from the ground without a crutch, while possible, turned out to be a struggle in its own right—especially once she had to apply any leverage on her still-injured leg. Teeth were gritted and grunts were mumbled, but eventually Sue got up entirely on her own, the bundle in her hand. Singular hand.
It only then really hit her just how small the stranger was. They weren't quite baseball-sized, but they were close, making Sue think of a large orange. With how magical everything and everyone here was, there was no reason they had to constrain themselves to any biologically feasible body sizes, of course, but the realization still took her aback.
Just a lil' bagful of a baby.
With the aforementioned magical weirdness in mind, Sue sure didn't expect Astra to be taken aback by the stranger, either. To her immediate relief, the dragon's surprise wasn't laced with any underlying terror and faded soon after she'd sat down beside her. Joy was even less skittish—she spotted the ominous, clawed limb reaching out from Sue's bag, but it had only barely slowed her down in her dash toward her big friend's lap.
And as Joy did, seeing Sue's affection towards the bagful of stranger, she attempted to pet them herself.
Sadly, the pitch-black being didn't react well to that, immediately withdrawing all the way into their bag and startling Joy. Sue didn't want either of them to feel bad, and while being held close to her front wasn't a cure for anything, it still helped both of them out a lot.
A part of the Forest Guardian considered getting up right away and trying to talk to... someone about all this. The uncertainty about who was even the correct person to go over all this with, as well as the desire to not overwhelm the lil' stranger, made her remain in her seat for now—just in time for stuff to start happening elsewhere around the clearing.
A loud, sing-song whistle perked Sue's and Joy's heads alike, making them lean in unison from behind Astra towards the source of the sound. Sue only faintly recognized the blue cloud bird and had no idea whatsoever about their name, but each time she'd seen them before, they were looking over the Moonview's youth—as was the case here.
Regardless of whether they were singing or speaking, their vocalizations sounded just as nice. Sue's attempt to fish out some of the very few words she knew of Moonview's language proved entirely fruitless, annoying her more than usual by the virtue of just how impossible this language was starting to feel. The way the little ones over in Newmoon each said their words differently made it clear that there was a lot of flexibility in pronunciation, but this went beyond that.
For a good while, the bird's noises were just a single, continuous whistle, with only very few other sounds getting mixed in once they started talking to the leafy mantis. Were these brief pauses, sing-song trills, and barely audible pops supposed to be a part of this language? Were they just how that species naturally sang? Sue neither knew nor had any way to gain that information at the moment, frustrating her further. And, as if to spite her even more, the cloud bird soon noticed their group too.
Having to watch over Joy a few days back let Sue know acutely just how much undue, negative attention the toothy girl received. With that memory still raw in her recollection, she was of half a mind to act obnoxious towards the bird for leering at the harmless child hugging her front—but then, she realized that the cloud bird wasn't staring at Joy.
They were staring at her.
They were afraid of her.
Her sixth sense wasted no time in pointing these facts out for all they were worth. It felt dreadful, even more so once Sue saw the actions that followed, their cloud-like wings gently urging gathered tykes towards a spot further away from her. Was it something she'd done? Or… or was it being seen with a night kin? The realization made Sue shift her glare down at the grass in front of her as a sludge of anger and sorrow churned in her mind.
What's your fucking problem!? Why are you so scared of bloody Ginger!?
An attempt to distract herself from that unpleasant topic by looking around the clearing some more found nothing more than further fuel for her anxious mind. The pink scorpion bat hadn't gone anywhere, now chatting with the half-plant, half-insect Splitleaf. Despite this being the mantis' duty as a caretaker, Sue was still pissed off at her for comforting the bat with Joy being so afraid of them.
And they'd never apologize, because why would they!? Joy was a savage freak of nature who should be ostracized; the night kin were savage freaks of nature who should be ostracized; the little one in the bag probably fell into that category, too. Of course, they'd only find suffering and misery in this fucking place—
Sue was hyperventilating by the time she'd finally noticed Joy's tighter embrace, delivered after the girl's attempts to catch her attention had failed. Her spiral of anger left her body shaking, the rumble of blood rushing through her head eclipsing all other sound.
More likely than not, she had this entire situation wrong. She'd just misheard, mis-sensed, or misjudged, and she was well aware of that. None of those realizations really helped at the moment, that's for sure, especially not with the well-being of so many people she cared for being left to the whims of the masses.
Even despite her hug snapping Sue out of the worst of her steadily creeping fury, Joy wasn't done yet—not while her friend remained so upset about something. With a scramble, a grab, and a pointing of her hand, she communicated the need to Astra in spite of the ever-present language barrier—and the dragon knew exactly what to do.
Sue wished Astra's embrace was enough.
In any other situation, the affection, the awareness that someone was there for her, would've been deeply calming. But not this time. If anything, it only made it worse, considering the chief source of her anger was something Astra had no idea about, and which Sue couldn't easily tell her about because of the language barrier. It all felt... dull.
Guess it was up to her to calm down on her own. Sue slunk her head as she took deep breaths, the movement of air through her body gradually airing out some of the burning, sticky anger. If there was anything Sue knew about that particular emotion, though, it was that it was very easy for it to intensify again on a complete whim. She had to continue, keep going until it was all gone—much easier said than done.
Though... maybe there was something she could try besides breathing.
Desperately trying to focus on anything but the source of her unpleasant emotions, Sue thought back to Solstice, teaching her how to link to others. She focused on the ever-important step of tuning out others' emotions so as not to get overwhelmed, growing easier and easier to perform with every attempt—and wondered if it would work on her, too.
As easy as it was to use her left arm to push away the surrounding feelings, Sue had a hard time thinking of how she'd do so internally. Suppose she could try to press her hand into herself? Placing it on her chest wasn't an option, for obvious reasons, which left a spot further down her torso. Hand on her stomach, anger on her mind. Deep inhale, and—
Release.
Sue's eyes shot wide open as she went through her plan, the psychically enhanced exhale getting rid of... everything. The fiery indignation, the underlying sorrow, the immense concern for the amorphous child still sitting on her lap—nothing remained but a slightly chilly, soothing peace.
She had Calmed her Mind.
With that sudden shift also came the conscious realization that no fewer than two friends were in the middle of dispensing affection towards her, both of them very concerned. The mental numbness didn't let Sue reciprocate with her own worry, but she could still try returning their affection in kind as her body relaxed. "I'm okay now, don't worry," she reassured, her voice unnaturally flat—but still undeniably her.
With one hand navigating to hold Joy close and the other quickly checking up on the still nameless stranger, the scene had returned to how it was before. The toothy tyke was glad, Astra was relieved, and the goopy lil' one had fallen asleep at some point. Not a whole lot was happening—a fine opportunity to investigate something odd she'd sensed in the middle of that entire process.
Sue reached down to feel along the side of her torso, her expression entirely flat throughout. One by one, the pointed tip of her finger brushed along her ribs, feeling like they were just a millimeter or two under the skin's surface. One, two...
...sixteen, seventeen.
Almost all the way down to her hips.
Inspired by that discovery, Sue soon shifted her attention towards the other parts of her body, making the most of her disgust-proof altered mental state. Seven pairs of teeth, three incisors, and four molars filled a noticeably smaller mouth. The rest of her skull felt largely the same, aside from the spikes on the sides of her head.
She already knew that they tingled the same area of her brain that her old human ears used to tingle, and that her actual ears were somewhere around that area. The link between the spikes and human ears went further still, with the spikes similarly made of cartilage, bending easily and painlessly.
Thinness of her legs raised an interesting question of their internal anatomy. Without skipping a beat, Sue set out to find out for herself, brushing the pleats of her skin dress aside and bending the limb as much as she could.
…
Why is there a second bend a few inches off the ground?
Why is it bending the wrong way?
How come I only now noticed it?
Any disgust Sue might've had at the revelation was forcibly dulled out by the coolness filling her mind, but good Duck, did it almost push through, anyway.
Sue either didn't remember enough about or really wasn't about to test most of the rest of her anatomy. There was, of course, the horn-shaped elephant in the room right through her torso that begged to be investigated further. She remembered it being painful to the touch on her first day here and now was as good of an opportunity as any to check if that still held true—yes, it did.
Just like everything else in the moment, her pain was heavily dulled, letting her continue. An attempt to press on her horn from the side accomplished two things. One, it let Sue know that despite the forced calmness in her mind, the pain could still make her cry, even if the tears would then flow down an entirely flat expression. And two, it soothed her worries about that extremity being in any way brittle.
It was both deeply embedded in her torso, much like its appearance suggested, and very stiff, not giving even slightly under her touch. The more she felt it around, the more it made her think of a bone going straight across her body with something red covering it, its texture similar to chalk.
Before Sue's further efforts in bodily exploration could bring even more suffering onto herself, a loud call from further into the clearing caught her attention. Joy was ahead of her this time, running out towards the hissed sound before immediately freezing once she'd spotted something, afraid. It only took moments until she was back beside her friend, wetness in her eyes threatening to match Sue's.
The once-human wasn't the only one that noticed, of course. Astra's loud question had the metal girl sigh as she tried laying down on Sue's lap, front head facing away from the other kids. As opposed to Sue's mental freeze-induced idleness, though, the dragon could do something about the messy situation.
What exactly beyond getting up and walking over, Sue had no idea—but at least she was left with a better view of the scene afterwards.
She might've struggled to recall their names, but she distinctively remembered seeing both the green-cream snake and the floating white puffball with an attached head around the farm area. The former was carrying a small pile of green, spiky fruits in their tiny arms and long, leafy vines, handing out the treats to anyone who came—and that indeed included the pink bat whose sight had shot down Joy's hopes of grabbing a snack.
Right as they were about to hand the last fruit out, though, Astra's low voice caught their attention. The reptile conversation thankfully didn't last too long, its gist swiftly transferred. Both to the partially-plant snake, sending them slithering straight towards Sue with a green treat in their arms, and to the more-than-partially-asshole bat, making them reel in place and huddle away from the once-human's group.
Works for me.
Sue didn't expect a snake to be this emotive. Instead of stirring Joy out of her attempted grumpy nap, they joined her, resting their head on Sue's leg right beside the toothy girl, to the Forest Guardian's mixed reaction—if it hadn't been muted out, at least. Further committing to cheering Joy up, the snake pretended to pull the fruit out of thin air, smiling wider at Joy's harsh but genuine giggle. They then used a pair of vines to toss and juggle the treat to the tyke's amusement, her laughter growing louder each time the newcomer threw their gift even further into the air.
And then, right as they were about to launch it all the way up above the treetops, they sneakily moved it into Joy's arms, and gave her front head a couple of pats while at it. Joy's response remained untranslated, and it was clear enough that not even the snake was entirely confident about what they'd just heard. Thinking back, though, it sounded awfully similar to something else Sue had heard her say a few days back at the feast—"Th-thank you."
Both she and the grass snake got it at around the same moment, the latter squeaking in elation at the realization. Their hug might've been very brief, but it did wonders in cheering the metal girl up the rest of the way, leaving her eagerly waving them away once they'd rejoined the other kids. Sue's response was appropriately subdued, but that didn't make it any less appreciated.
Someone really enjoys having her maw pet.
Having intervened to help the little one under her watch, Astra soon returned to her previous spot, just out of the recently installed swing's trajectory. A light aftershock went through most of the clearing after she'd sat down—or rather collapsed—in her spot, but barely anyone was perturbed by it.
Except for the light green spider now on Astra's lap, looking around in confusion.
Despite the self-imposed mental restraints, Sue felt her mind shudder at the sight, a glance upwards revealing the string they had been hanging from just a few feet away from her. Figures they'd be confused about why they were on the ground all of a sudden.
Meanwhile, Joy was undertaking her own grand quest, one of opening this fruit she'd been given and getting to the oh-so-sweet insides. As hard as she'd tried, she couldn't quite pry it open with just her hands, making her grumble quietly. Of course, she had a much more effective tool for prying stuff open, but having someone hold it for her would be a lot of help.
*tap tap*
The sensation snapped Sue away from taking in every detail of the smiley-faced spider. Instead, she saw Joy not just handing, but outright shoving the treat she'd been given into her hand, its large spikes poking her slightly. Once she'd grabbed the berry, the little one got to the next step of her plan right away.
*c-crack!*
In what felt like a split second, Joy went from having her friend hold the green treat to biting down on it with the very side of her maw. The firm, green shell stood absolutely no chance against the metal teeth, the smallest bit of force almost snapping the fruit in half entirely. Glad as the toothy tyke was that her idea worked out, she knew that nobody would want to eat something that's been in her back mouth. As swiftly as she'd cracked the fruit's shell, she moved her maw away while turning to face the now punctured fruit, some fresh juice dripping from her maw's fangs.
It was only when Joy grabbed the fruit from her friend's hand and started prying it apart, did Sue's brain unstuck itself following the way-too-fast sequence of events. She might've been incapable of feeling much at the moment, but goodness did all this in such a quick succession push her limits—
*hissss-click-click*
Fear pounded away at Sue's quickly faltering mental block as she turned to face the source of the sound. Her heart only barely avoided leaping out of her chest at seeing the red spider that had almost taken her life, with her conscious mind having to hurriedly remind her crumbling composure that she'd met him before, with Solstice's aid no less. He was even wearing the same hat as on that day, the element of familiarity helping Sue a lot. Unfortunately, it did little considering the lack of a translation, but little was more than nothing.
As Sue felt emotions return to her body, one drop of fear at a time, both Dewdrop and what was presumably his offspring waved towards her from beside Astra's spot. Her arms shook as she returned the gesture, and her smile was only barely recognizable between the mental muzzle on her mind and the already present anxiety.
Before Sue's decidedly off expression could draw too much attention, though, Joy chimed in with snacks for everyone.
As annoying as her short size was, forcing her to constantly run around Sue, Joy didn't let it get to her. One by one, she handed the pieces of the green fruit she'd helped crack to everyone gathered—her two guardians, Dewdrop, their offspring, herself—heck, even the sleeping one got a piece left for them. Astra had to eat it shortly afterwards because of the juices staining the already dirty canvas, but it was the intent that mattered—and Joy's intent was immaculate.
Sue barely had the words for the creamy yellow flesh she bit into. 'Sweet' didn't cut it, 'saccharine' came short. Each little nibble cloyed her mouth with some of the most distilled sugariness she'd ever had. Not even actual candy was this sweet, and this thing had apparently grown on a plant!
Now the question is: Is this fruit actually good for you, or does sweet equal sinfully unhealthy for you in this world too?
Yet another intense sensation joining in on the mix eroded whatever remained of her forced calmness. Bliss on her tongue, spooks around her, disappointment at herself for still being afraid of Dewdrop despite having literally talked with him just a couple of days ago.
Concern for the amorphous little one, still asleep.
She supposed this was the best time for them to get a move on and start asking people around. Or get actual food for them that wasn't the sensation of 'sweet' manifested into a plant.
Can they even eat solid food?
...
How do they even eat?
The questions had no answers, but just airing them out to herself let Sue free some more of her brain space towards more productive topics. She might not have known almost anything about the little one, but someone in the village would, that much she was certain of. Just had to get up, much easier now that the spider family had taken their leave, and head out of the playground—oh, piss off.
Sue's stone-like expression cracked into one of distrust and animosity upon seeing the pink bat approach them. Her hand reached to hold Joy closer, the gesture inadvertently catching the lil' one's attention and making her spot the flying scorpion. A frightful squeak, a tight embrace—everything Sue had worried would happen, was.
As the Forest Guardian kept petting the top of her little friend's maw, the two beings trailing behind the bat kept encouraging them. Sue wasn't entirely trustful of Splitleaf, considering she saw her dispense affection towards the lil' pink shit only recently, but the same couldn't be said for the incredibly pleasant grassy serpent. Each time the pink bat faltered or slowed down, one of the two would encourage them to keep going, all the way until the three were at Sue's feet, Joy now hiding away from the bat's gaze.
Despite their best attempts to push on, the scorpion couldn't deny the mix of Joy's obvious distress and the Forest Guardian's scowl being... demoralizing, to put it lightly. They wanted to fly out of there; wanted to be literally anywhere but here; they had no idea how they'd accomplish what they were here for with Joy's fear and her friend's hostility—
They didn't know, but Splitleaf had a hunch.
Sue's eyebrow lifted from its stern position as the leafy mantis turned to chat to Astra, of all people. Whatever the topic was, it made the dragon look between the approaching group, Sue, and Joy, earlier confusion steadily thawing. She couldn't translate, and with Sue's uncertain appearance, she doubted if the handicapped Forest Guardian could either.
All of which left a... more direct approach. The dragon's reassurance got Joy to start unwinding from the creeping fear. Her eyes opened wider, little by little, as whichever words of encouragement that she understood did their magic. Sue could acutely tell that even despite Astra's best efforts, the effect wasn't all that massive, and Joy was still afraid.
Frankly, all she wanted was to tell that bat to fuck off in no uncertain terms—which was clear enough for Astra to know she'd have to intervene that way, too. As soft as the dragon was, her being able to casually pry Sue's arm away from holding Joy was a grave reminder of her strength. Her grasp was downright dainty, and yet, Sue couldn't get it to budge in the slightest no matter how hard she'd tried.
And so; Joy was left to let go of her friend and face her fear.
Her fear, on the other hand... reached a single pincer toward her.
The scene remained at an impasse for a solid while as the pink bat chittered something out. Their words were unsure, even slightly fearful, but, to the best of Sue's ability to tell, genuine. By her third attempt at wrangling her arm out of Astra's grasp, the realization of what was going on finally clicked into place. It sent her train of ever-angrier thought careening into the distance as her body unwound, her softening gaze glancing down at Joy.
I wonder if she's even aware that this is an apology.
Almost as if by magic, the moment Sue stopped straining, Astra let her arm go. Instead of keeping the toothy tyke away from her earlier harasser, Sue did her best to comfort her, her freed limb petting along her head and maw alike—including over the by-now barely visible scratch.
No matter how much Sue encouraged her, though, Joy remained rooted in place, her gaze glued to the floor. The once-human couldn't accept her apology for her, of course, but what she could do was help with translation. Or at least, she could've if she didn't feel so drained following her accidental self-calming. Despite her attempts to focus and wrangle her aura into shape, it either slipped from her grasp or proved too painful on her injury to keep going.
Sue kept her reactions down to not alert the others, but the atmosphere as a whole only kept growing darker. Splitleaf, in particular, grew somber over all of this, hanging her head low. It took so long just to make the bat get over their fear and shame enough to apologize, and now Joy was too scared, too confused, or both. In a way, it was a lesson in its own right, one about not all apologies getting accepted.
'I'm sorry' is no magic, after all.
Before the leafy mantis could turn that insight into a well-defined lesson in her head, the other side finally made a step forward. And another, and then a third. Joy was still too skittish to look directly up at the bat, but with Sue's reassurance, she kept inching closer. Grabbing the Forest Guardian's petting hand by one finger and holding it tight did wonders for her psyche, too.
Nobody else dared move as Joy made it through the last couple of paces. Her hand reached around blindly as she kept looking away, eventually brushing past the pink pincer and grabbing it as firmly as she could. Not much happened for the next few moments, both parties waiting for the other to do something while Sue contorted herself to let the lil' one keep holding her hand.
It was up to Splitleaf to intervene. Again. With a mostly unseen eye roll, she approached the most awkward instance of hand-holding in history and shook the two kids' hands. The motion made Joy's gaze finally snap over, her eyes locking with the bat. Stressful as it was for both of them, they knew they shouldn't be looking away if they wanted an apology to truly happen—and even despite her limited grasp of a situation, Joy did want that.
She didn't want people to be mean to her, but neither did she want them to be scared of her. Or for her to be scared of anyone else, as long as she knew she wouldn't be mistreated again...
Subdued as most of the apology was, though, Astra's loud cheer brought some more life into the scene. Both the leafy snake and Splitleaf broke into a quiet chuckle as Joy let go, and the two withdrew their hands. And then, shortly after, the toothy tyke released her grip of Sue's hand, letting her properly move again—and pull the brave girl into the tightest hug she could manage, pride dripping from her every gesture.
She did it; Joy managed it on her own, without even needing a translation. It was such immense progress from the first time they met, Sue could hardly believe it. A wide, dumb grin refused to wash from her face as she held the lil' one in her arms, rocking her side to side while Joy tried her absolute hardest to return even a slice of that hug.
"I'm so proud of you..." Sue beamed, tearing up just a bit. This was more than just being happy, so much more; her heart was clear enough about that. She wasn't just glad, but intensely proud of Joy, ecstatic at her reassurance and presence having helped her overcome her fears. It felt right, so incredibly right; she wanted to be here by Joy's side as she grew through thick and thin. Be her guardian, be her support, be someone she can trust and rely on no matter what, forever—
...
...
Forever.
The cursed quagmire of contradictions and despair that surrounded the subject of her return to Earth stopped Sue's euphoria instantly. The shift from a tight, firm embrace to Sue's entire body growing stiff was clear enough for Joy to sense too, a confused squeak only driving the unpleasant feelings further under her skin.
Why is this so FUCKING HARD!?
Sue gently lowered Joy down onto the grass before the tempest of emotions under her head could grow any further. As comforting as the metal girl's presence was for her and vice versa, Sue knew she needed to get out of here, now. "I-I'm sorry, Joy," she whimpered, looking away. "Just... n-need to get some fresh air. Take care Joy, t-take care Astra..."
She could feel their shared concern as she picked herself off the ground with the dragon's help. She had no idea how to soothe it, for them and herself alike—especially not now. All she could think of was getting away, and that's what she did soon after, one hand carefully holding the bundle with the stranger inside it as the other shakily waved at the pair.
She didn't even have it in her to look back at them as she departed the clearing. Before she could even take a step out of it, though, a well familiar sound caught her attention—one she knew would only bring her comfort. "H-hey, Spark," she greeted, exhausted.
Psychic or not yet one, the fiery kit recognized the gloom in her friend's voice all the same, her expression growing uncertain. Sue was incapable of responding beyond just shaking her head—despite that, she reassured, "It's fine."
It's not.
Right as Sue was about to leave for real, with or without Spark following her, another familiar sight brought a modicum of reassurance. She'd only seen this butterfly a few times and one was while she was panicking at everything and everyone, but seeing someone she recognized still made her feel better.
Doubly so, with the brown caterpillar in their arms immediately wiggling at seeing her. Their parent noticed, turning towards them and giving them a wave of their tiny hands and a couple exaggerated flaps of their almost pure white wings. Sue's brain jump-started itself just in time to connect the purple-bodied insect to a name Basil had told her a couple days back, Birch, before the insect in question flew off straight into the treeline after dropping his child off.
Guess whatever he does, it's way outside of Moonview. Figures, that's how I ran into him.
Warm nudge on her leg, and then another. Spark was right.
It was time to go.
Finding someone who could feasibly know something about the little one inside the bag turned out to be... difficult. Sue's mental list wasn't particularly long: Willow, Solstice, maybe the living bouquet, Orchid, too. Willow wasn't at their clinic, she'd rather bite on a brick than try talking to the plant-like medic after her outburst at Northeast earlier, and Solstice... yeah, no.
Left with nothing for answers, Sue decided to play it safe. Whatever this little one was, they ate something. Probably. They didn't have teeth, or other defined body parts for that matter, so they most likely couldn't eat solid food. It was time for soup, regardless of how little Sue herself cared for it most of the time.
With no idea of which cook around the clearing specialized in which meals, Sue was only left with the fallback option of Poppy and Hazel's stall. She really, really didn't care for seeing the latter again, and hoped to ducking Duck she'd at least leave her alone this time. And if not...
...
She'd probably just get angry again or something. What else was she to do?
Thankfully, the first impression of Hazel had the ghost not wanting to interact with her any more than the other way around. The spooky prankster let out a long groan before withdrawing further into the kitchen, leaving the fairy cook to handle orders this time. A part of Sue worried about Poppy being just as hostile towards her, but fortunately her reactions didn't extend beyond a mild unease at the whole messy situation.
Sue sure wasn't feeling like miming a meal right now, which left linking up with her. Her horn didn't like the idea, but was outvoted 1-0. Focus her mind, tune out emotions, reach out with her aura, aaaaaaand linked—just need to insert dial-up noises somewhere in there.
Doing the entire routine with one hand occupied by a bundle of snoozing something made it all feel even more awkward than usual, that's for sure.
"...you good?" Poppy asked, eyebrow creeping upwards by the moment.
Right, gotta talk.
"Yes, yes, I'm good. I wanted to grab some soup for... them," Sue answered, accentuating her request by pointing directly at the sleeping bundle.
Poppy had no idea what she was even looking at, leaning over the counter and squinting at the... thing. "Hon, is bag," she explained, deadpan.
Sue groaned. "No, it's not a bag. There's something, someone inside it. They're there, you can feel it, just don't try looking at them." She was uncertain about handing over the bag for the fairy to inspect in person, but figured that if it would stop any more stupid questions, it was worth it. Probably.
She really hoped so.
With more hesitation than she would admit, Sue carefully placed the grapefruit-sized bundle on the pantry's counter. Poppy might've initially thought that the Forest Guardian had gone bonkers, but it didn't take long for her to realize that Sue was telling the truth. The inside of the bundle was warm, amorphous, and judging by the bag's condition, not wet. "Darn. They soup?" Poppy asked, intrigued.
Sue was deeply uncertain about how to interpret the question. She opted to answer both interpretations, covering her bases at the cost of making her look even dumber than she already was. "They're not soup, and I don't know if they eat soup. I figure that if they eat anything, it's soup or juice, but I'm not sure—"
Hazel's gruff comment cut Sue off before she could finish making a dumbass of herself, catching everyone but her by surprise. After a couple of stunned moments, Spark woofed a question out loud, and then another, with Hazel answering both of them with an unusual seriousness and intent. Even without an impossibly large smile, the ghost's expression was still incredibly attention catching with her humongous red eyes.
Sue was just glad it wasn't focused on her this time, at least.
With Spark having asked her questions, Poppy followed soon after, letting Sue get a glimpse into what was even going on—"How ghost? Warm. Is."
...hold on, what?
Hazel's answer was slightly more elaborate this time as she pointed at the bag and then at herself. Despite her best efforts, neither Spark nor Poppy were entirely convinced. "Can walk walls?" the cook asked. "Bag?"
A short, gruff response, the associated emotions the equivalent of a dismissive shrug. A longer, much firmer comment followed soon after, one that had Hazel stare up at Sue directly. Unnerving as the sight was, though, Sue could tell that it wasn't accompanied by hostility or even mischief, not this time. Instead, curiosity and… hope.
"Okay, okay," Poppy nodded at her partner before turning to Sue, "Hazel say bag ghost. No eat."
Sue blinked dumbfounded, trying to make sense of the translated words as she picked the bundle of lil' one up again. "B-but they're warm, and they're filling it up, and—"
Poppy shook her head. "Hazel say important not. Ghost."
Suppose if there was any being who'd know for sure it'd be a fellow ghost, but... it was still so hard to comprehend. How could this of all beings be a ghost? Was their ghost-ness related to their brain-melting curse when looked at? How did Hazel know with certainty? Why did they feel so young—
*whiiiiiiiiIIIISTLE!*
The loud sound was followed by the sensation of an even louder aura approaching fast, soothing in its familiarity. Before Sue could even finish turning around, she was scooped into the air and held firmly by Lilly's leafy arms as the plant girl's mischief bloomed into glee. She took a moment to finish reeling after the sudden emotion swing before embracing all she could reach with her free arm, the dancer's jubilant whistle warming her heart even more. "I-I'm so happy to see you too, Lilly!"
Lilly's realization that Sue couldn't understand her clicked audibly into place, making her look around in search of anyone who could help. Or at least, that's what Sue assumed, interrupting Lilly with a couple pats to catch her attention before shaking her head. Before doing anything else, though, thanks were in order. "Th-thank you for your help, Poppy!" she smiled at the cook—and sighed, a little pesky part of her that wanted to remain fair speaking up. "And pass my thanks to Hazel, too..."
With the last of the thanks being passed out, Sue could disconnect from Poppy and link up with Lilly, the dancer finding her friend's psychic antics ticklish. One, two, push past the growing pain, and let's talk. "H-hey Lilly."
"Sue!" Lilly squeaked, holding her that bit tighter. "Happy you have. Much, much. Yesterday... scary. Scary, scary..."
'Scary' was one good word to describe the entire mess that had transpired yesterday. Awful as it had been, though, it was in the past, and the past was the last thing Sue wanted to think about, especially when Lilly was in the middle of carrying her around.
Doubly so once Lilly's admission began to melt through her joy, revealing everything that lurked under the surface. Anxiety about what had happened during the chaotic mess of yesterday, stress from work, and especially Root. Loathing about not having been able to intervene when she'd spotted Sue next to the Pale Lady's shrine.
Self-consciousness about just being a dumb, stilted farmhand.
"It was, yeah. Could we take a seat there?" Sue asked, worried.
Lilly got to walking right away, simultaneously too sad and too concerned about possibly injuring Sue to bound towards the bench like she'd usually do. The former factor kept growing ever larger, Lilly's impeccable poise waning with her every step.
The very instant Sue's backside had touched that bench, she pulled her
Sue wouldn't want it any other way. "I'm here Lilly, I'm here, it's okay," she reassured. "Everything's going to be alright." Regardless of how little Sue believed in that last point, she sure wanted Lilly to believe in it.
"Thank, thank, *sniff*. Not know what happen. Very stupid," Lilly whimpered.
Sue could tell the plant girl was referring to herself with the last couple of words. All it did was redouble her efforts, the little one still in her hand, as she raised her voice—"You're not stupid, Lilly! You're wonderful. I-I genuinely loved the time we spent together."
The plant girl trembled at the outpouring of reassurance, doubly so when it was further enhanced by Spark nuzzling her from her other side. "True?" she asked, uncertain.
"Yes, really! You're charming, and kind, and funny! Why would I be lying?" Sue insisted.
Framing the question like that made Lilly flinch, and Sue only try harder still to comfort her. Still, the dancer wanted to be truthful. Her body language shrunk and trembled as she spoke up, eyes closing in embarrassment. "Because stupid. Farmhand. Confused yesterday. Know much not. Just farmhand. Talk bad."
The framing of her helping at the farms as a negative thing made Sue think back to yesterday, to how Root had spoken of Lilly right before Sue left Moonview—
...
And considering just how that very priest had treated her later that day, there was a definite link between the two. In most other circumstances, it would've been enough to get Sue incensed all over again, but her own anger didn't matter right now. Lilly came first, and she needed all the reassurance Sue had in her.
"You're not stupid, Lilly, I really mean it," Sue insisted, calming her voice down. "Yesterday was a mess for everyone. I saw a lot of it and I'm still confused about just what had happened. You help feed everyone here, and that's a wonderful thing to be doing! You talk differently than most, sure, but that's not a bad thing. I..." Sue trailed off, flinching and persevering through some of her earlier emotions. "I really like you like this. You're amazing like this. I—I want to get to know you better like this."
Before the plant girl could do anything else, Sue shifted her hug until Lilly's head rested on her chest, right beside her horn. The Forest Guardian felt everything inside the dancer's mind in vivid clarity—her doubts, her fears, her ever-raw insecurities, all of them soothed by the moment. Despair gave way to uncertainty, and then, bit by bit, to her usual confidence.
As she opened her eyes, Lilly saw the impact yesterday had left on her
By its own, the bag in the Forest Guardian's hand would've been scarcely interesting—but the several small, black tentacles reaching out from it made it go from mundane to alarming in an instant. Lilly had almost swatted the possible threat away before Sue undid her hug and brought the bundle in front of herself, immediately speaking up afterwards—"I'll tell you what happened in a moment, Lilly. This... bag, there's someone inside it. A little ghost, I think."
Spark's woofs had confusion and worry dripping from them at the sight, but Sue continued. "I don't know who, or even what, they are. I know they look scary, but they're just alone, scared, and very little. Whoever they are, whatever they are..." she trailed off as they all watched a black tentacle slowly wrap itself around Sue's wrist, shaking as it clung to their guardian. "They need me. I want to be here for them."
To say Lilly was taken aback was an understatement of the century. The bag, the creature within it, their weird appearance—she had no idea what was up with them, her insecurity aggravated by not knowing yet another important thing. Whatever was happening, though, Sue was convinced. Sue wanted to help them. And Lilly...
With a shaky motion, the leafy dancer reached her hand over towards the bundle, pressing its flat side into it and feeling the warmth radiating from the inside.
...wanted to be here for Sue. "Want help," she reassured, leaning closer into the bundle. "Know how not. But want."
A few stray tears forced their way past Sue's eyelids as she slid as close to Lilly as possible, the dancer's free hand holding her close. They watched as the little one wrapped their tentacle around Lilly's arm, the palpable warmth making her lean in closer.
"Thank you s-so much, Lilly. We'll figure it out, I-I'm sure of it. As to what had happened..." Sue shuddered, going over the events in her mind as she lowered her ghost-holding hand down onto her lap, letting Spark take a couple sniffs of the stranger.
"Let's start from the beginning, then..."
And now, the final sticker now that it's no longer a spoiler:
If you're confused about the species of the characters and want them spoiled, I've set up a page listing the species of all the featured characters in each chapter!
If you want to discuss the story, I've set up a Discord server for it! (and my other writings)
Also check out my other story, From the Vast, my series of shorts, The Alarm Goes Off at Six, and a one-off short, Victory Lap!
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