#SE really said okay this is fucked up medieval times but we still gotta have pretty boys it's important to our b r a n d
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god they made joshua so fucking pretty in FF16. And clive, and dion.
they're all very pretty but like joshua takes the cake
#Lunney's Ramblings#ff16 spoilers#SE really said okay this is fucked up medieval times but we still gotta have pretty boys it's important to our b r a n d#and they're so right#like i usually don't really care for facial hair but it just w o r k s on clive he's so fucking pretty#and joshua is mr steal yo girl/man without even trying#annabelle could've had the best sons in the world but alas she was infected with evil bitch disease#it has a 100% mortality rate if left untreated for too long#also glad it seems(?) like they didn't kill Dion because the bury your gays trope is very tired and boring#did they kill the other guy he as with though? i kinda fell asleep during ep52 of the let's play and woke up at ep78 lmao
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⭐Alpha Centauri⭐, Part Thirteen
School spirit, right? Thought I’d post a new part for the new semester.
....Yeah, that’s totally why it took this long.
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Naturally, we stuck around in Scape’s office for a while so my bleeding could stop and dry up. I feigned nodding off, closing my eyes and lolling my head down to the side while Ty and Scape were chatting with eachother so they would passively drop me from the conversation, unaware I was still listening.
“So your twin…. Which one is he?”
Chai scoffed. “Calls himself Ezekiel. He’s embarrassed by his real name, ‘Zippy’, ‘cause it makes him sound like a little kid.”
“Are you sure he’s embarrassed by it?”
“Why else would he take a biblical name as a human?”
“It has phonetic parallels, like yours and Alyssa’s. After all, Chialer means to cry…”
“It refers to blubber. Like on a whale.” Chai snapped.
“Blubbering is a synonym for crying, Tyler.”
“And fucking what?!”
There was silence for a minute. It was really eerie—unlike most of Earth, this office was so perfectly soundproofed that, lacking the sound of one’s breathing, it was completely silent. I shivered.
“...You know, radiant atronachs are virtually nonexistent.”
“Thanks a lot to my mom and dad.”
“Cér—” Scape cleared his throat. “...Carrie and Marcus, yes?”
“Yeah, them. Stupid fucking curse they got on all of us because one of them made a swear on the name of Leviathan that they were fuckin’ lying about.”
Scape hummed. “Non, Leviathan n'apprécie pas qu'on se moque de lui..”
My eyes opened at that. “Leviathan what?”
Both did a double-take at me. “Uh…. He doesn’t like being made fun of?” Chai said as if I should’ve known.
Scape waved a hand at her, shaking his head. “Désolé, désolé, I slipped into my native language.”
Now Chai was staring in confusion at Scape right along with me. “...You what? You’ve been talking French this whole time, though?”
I blinked in confusion, looking down at myself. “Uh… Eu pensei que vocês estavam falando em português...?” I murmured, suddenly feeling oddly self-conscious.
Scape looked between us, then chuckled. “Ah, adorable when young demons find out…. Here in Boston, everyone hears us in English,” he said. “It’s a response from Lucifer regarding the Babel incident: while language has and will divide mortal-kind for eternity, demons of Hell will remain able to understand eachother, and mortals them.”
I looked over at Chai, who was now staring at me. “....You’re French?” I said.
“You’re Portu… Portugess…?”
“Brazilian,” I corrected. “...And it’s Portuguese…”
Scape chuckled again. “Here I thought you two were better acquainted than that.”
Chai flushed a bright green—y’know, uranium under the suit and all. “W-we didn’t know about the Babel thing!”
I smirked. “Do you even know what Babel is?”
“Like you do.” she jeered. To be fair, I didn’t.
“The tower to heaven?” Scape mused. “Unsurprising, it’s not well accounted outside of biblical texts. All of humanity convened to build their way to God…” he began. Strangely, when he said a holy word like such, it didn’t bother us. Well, it did, but it didn’t cause a physical response. “God sighed, metaphorically, as they would eventually reach a point in the stratosphere lacking enough air to breathe, rather than reach Heaven. Therefore he scattered the humans, toppled the tower, and scrambled their minds so there would never be a unified ‘single language’ among mortals. Such a thing eliminates individuality, and leads to… Problematic ventures.”
“Huh.” Chai grunted, echoed shortly after by me.
“So what was that about a beast-damned prince of hell cursing your family?” I said at her.
Chai quivered for a moment. “...I’ll get into specifics some other time. Basically, I spent my childhood and teen years wandering a desert because my mom and dad couldn’t be honest with eachother millennia ago.” she explained.
I stared blankly at her, slowly looking at Scape. “.........I’m not the only one who heard that, right?”
“What, did part of that translate into a Brazilian swear word?” Chai teased.
“Portuguese.” I said flatly. “What do you mean wandering a desert?!”
“I mean I’ve had to kill people and predatory animals to survive to adulthood. If you DO reach adulthood as one of my family, Leviathan sends an aspect of itself to try and kill you where its machinations failed.”
“What. The fuck.”
Scape leaned back on the couch, arms behind his neck. “It’s true. I’ve met one of her siblings before- long time ago, but I had the luck to be right in the very place Leviathan dropped her to be ‘tried’ by survival.”
My jaw was agape as I tried to process this. Chai killing things? She was a punk archetype for sure, but BEFORE college age? Fuck, I still got freaked out seeing blood when I was a teen.
“Ooh, her? Do you mean Abby?” Chai said, suddenly looking giddy.
“Abigail, yes. The first to survive that trial if I remember right.”
Chai clapped. “Fuck yeah! That chick was forced to fend off dragons in the medieval times!”
“...You guys are weird,” I mumbled, standing up. “I’m gonna, like…”
“Not leave yet, surely?” Scape said, raising a brow. “Your hand…”
I unwrapped the cloth he’d put around my ‘stab wounds’. Nothing but little black curves marking my hand now, with some discoloration on my skin around them. “I’ll just wear gloves, yeah.”
Scape shrugged, standing up to step over and retrieve the makeshift cast from me. “Fair enough. Just be attentive as usual.”
“Wouldn’t want another angel attacking you~” Chai quipped.
I deadpanned back at her. “Not funny.”
Scape just shook his head, fighting off a smile as I walked out and crammed my hands under the waistband of my skirt. Stupid no-pocket women’s clothes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went somewhere different this time: Monty’s. He was on the fraternity-saturated football team, sure, but he lived in a normal dorm building a couple blocks from mine. Not for a date this time—we’d accepted by now that romance wouldn’t really gel for us—but rather to go for a drive.
“Oh, Alyssa! Wasn’t expecting to see you coming all the way up here,” was his reaction on opening his door.
I snorted. “Yo, jus’ ‘cause I’m like, sloth levels of lazy, doesn’t mean I can’t walk place to place.”
Monty chuckled, fixing his glasses. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t reach your classes if you couldn’t. Anything you wanted?”
“Bit of a tour around the city, maybe,” I said passively, waving my clot-ridden hand. “Wanted to… Y’know, chat a bit, maybe. I’unno.”
Monty sheepishly pointed at my hand. “Uh, how did…”
“Bad tattoo—I mean—Ty cut me with her fingernails. Had the damn things shaped into claws again.”
“Again? Yeesh. I’m guessing that happens often?”
“Nah, she normally has pretty good restraint. She just got kinda… Pissed off.”
“What about?”
I waved my hand dismissively. “I’ll explain it in the car.”
For a card up Mammon’s sleeve, Monty’s car was… a pretty normal four-door sedan. I guess it helped him not stick out too much from the crowds—probably would be the same case for demons if we weren’t too ‘inherently sociopathic’ to be allowed to drive. I got Monty talking a bit about his own business ventures while we were on our way off campus, so I could think a bit about a couple things. Namely the idea of Chialer being some kind of killing machine, yikes.
“...Yeah, the keyfob for my car is, itself, a weapon for self defense. I press the button opposite the key release, it flips out a switchblade.”
“Yikes.”
“Not the most practical for a fight, but it’s good at drawing blood.”
“Great for pentagrams, I’ll bet.”
“Yeah, but then I have to clean the blade. That’s a huge pain.”
“You know from what experience?” I quipped.
Monty rolled his eyes. “I told you, you’re the first demon I’ve knowingly met outside of the Mam’ himself. I just know blood is a bitch and a half to clean, even off linoleum or stainless steel.”
I thought for a moment, then quickly poked his thigh. Monty snorted.
“...Yeah, that too.”
“What else can that thing do then? Some kinda Hell’s Army Knife or something?”
“Damn, that’d be cool to have. Nah though, it’s got a couple nifty features, but nothing too amazing. Switchblade, a precision laser for distracting cats…”
“As if that’s what it’s for.”
“You’d be surprised how many greed demons are feline. Or well… Mammon told me I would be.”
“Yeah, but those’re human toys. Demon toys aren’t shipped if they can’t be used to mutilate someone.”
“...Fair,” Monty said passively, then gulped. “It reflects light through microscopic prisms inside the keyfob so when it actually shoots out, it can burn through a lot of thinner materials with some focus.”
“Oh sweet, so a mini me.”
The car skidded to a more abrupt stop than usual, Monty slamming the brakes for a stoplight as he snickered at that. “You… Shoot lasers?”
“Yeah, I’m like, a moth and all, but my head’s basically a weaponized CRT TV.”
Monty glanced at me, then the light, then me again for a moment before back to the road. “...A TV head? Those’re real popular on the internet lately.”
“Yeah, I noticed. And yes, like that one final boss from that one high-concept RPG.”
Monty snickered again, shaking his head. “I wasn’t thinking that, but okay.”
He drove along in silence. It felt weird moving… Fast-ish? But also really slow, considering. When we were on a main street with the speed-o-meter saying 45, it felt pretty normal to me, but despite this being faster than I would normally move around, it felt sluggish. Suppose I was just distracting myself.
“What’re we driving by M.I.T. for?” I asked. As implied, we were rolling onto the Mitts campus, Monty leisurely driving amidst the various buildings and weaving by cars plastered over with new ‘Dragons’ stickers.
“Game next week, right? I’m probably not gonna be participating, but I gotta be there, so I may’s well see where we’re gonna be headed.”
Traffic started to get congested near the IT’s stadium. I didn’t say anything at first, but I did furrow my brow. “Didja notice they changed the mascot?”
“Nah, not like it’s been beavers for decades or anything.”
“Word is it’s because of a demon of pride.”
Monty zipped forward suddenly, scrambling to slam the brake and pull away to avoid a crash. “Uh…. Yikes? Aren’t they like, the most powerful?”
“Sorta…. Their prince is the devil himself.” I said, crossing my arms and leaning back.
Monty glanced at me before righting himself back onto the street. “Kinda figured…. Has that not been done before or something?”
“Probably has, I’unno. Kicker is, the jackass is my roommate’s brother.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. She was pretty pissed about it earlier today.”
“Lemme guess….”
“Oh yeah, obviously the reason I got cut up.”
Monty drove around by the parking lot for the stadium…. And rolled up to park. “Apparently there’s a pep rally going on…. Explains the traffic and all.”
“What, going into the core of enemy territory for shits and giggles?” I quipped, hesitantly getting up and out of the car.
“Well, maybe a bit of espionage. Really, I’m just caught up on studying, and football practice’s tomorrow.”
I snorted. “Aha. Aha… Yeah, uh, I got outta cheer practice early.”
We both chuckled awkwardly at that, and after a bit of second guessing ourselves (or at least me), made our way into the stadium.
And uh, beast-damn.
The Mitts’ football team was running a workout routine around the field, high-fiving people as they passed by the barriers, and whooping and shouting a ‘go team’ chant. Hundreds of M.I.T. students were convened in the stands, all cramming themselves down in front to get a close-up view of their sportsballers. Monty prodded at one to ask “shouldn’t half of you be in class?”, to which a few people giddily explained that the school was paid off to observe some random holiday that was today. This seemed really over the top, and that was exactly the point.
Leading the newly green-and-gold-clad sports team was their mascot: a golden-scaled dragon with an emeraldesque underbelly, plated on joints with pads that looked more like combat armor, and a ‘jersey’ that had to be a flak jacket painted over.
The sight bothered me in a way. That guy was winding one of the most prestigious places of learning on Earth around his claw, parading around as himself by way of a glorified fursuit. What really concerned me though was the fact it was combat-ready. He was ready to walk that suit into a gunfight, and I did not want to know why.
Then he started shouting along for the team and crowd, too.
“When I say M-I, you say T! Mass in!” “Tech!” “Mass in!” “Tech!”
“Let’s go dragons, let’s go!” “Fire with fire! Raze and blaze!”
A presumable QB tossed a football to Ezekiel, and he ran forward to throw it in a perfect arc to the guy in back. That guy crouched in place, and hurled the thing for the opposite end of the field. Ezekiel wasted no time bolting after it, the wings of his suit furling out and flapping. Too stiff to be real, but that’d have to be expensive as fuck for a costume prop. When he passed the thirty, he dove forward. By the twenty, he was sliding along the slicked astroturf. At the ten, the football landed down into his suit’s oversized paws, and he stopped his penguin slide right at the touchdown line.
The crowd roared, all the cliques shamelessly roaring like dragons as best they could, no matter how bad it sounded or how sick or hoarse they may’ve been. Monty joined in. I stared blankly as Tyler’s twin stood up to dance and twirl around.
“M-I-T! M-I-T!” “M-I-T! M-I-T!”
I sidled next to Monty, looking at his eyes from the side. Practically glazed over. Thinking on my feet, I snuck a hand into his pocket and fished out the keys delicately while he was entranced. After that, I slipped away into the away team’s locker room.
“Ty?”
“Ally? Where the home are you?”
I cupped a hand around the mic on my phone. “Mitts stadium, it’s a shitshow.”
“You think? My brother studies there.”
“No like, seriously, he’s running a pep rally. Running a pep rally.”
“What do you mean by that?” Scape cut in. Chai was still in his office, evidently.
“They’re cheering and chanting with him and all, but like…. Everyone’s glazing over. The shy guys are crowding up in front to shout, the emos and jocks are doing cheesy roars with the rest… Fucking Monty joined in with them.”
“Monty who?” “Robert, Tyler…”
“Is that not possession?”
“Is bandwagoning possession?” Scape retorted.
I furrowed my brow, fiddling with Monty’s keyfob. “Come on, he’s a demon.”
“He’s naturally charismatic.”
“Monty’s on the football team against his!”
“Yeah, that’s bullshit.” Chai said flatly.
“So a supporter of the red sox would have to be possessed to join the cheers?”
I took an agitated breath. “Okay, Ty, so ‘Zippy’’s out there riling everyone up. What would you be doing?”
“Not the best idea…” Scape murmured more distantly.
“I’ll save the ass-kicking for the game. I say give him some kinda warning of what’s to come, but it’s not like you’re gonna get anywhere with your cheer uni-”
I hung up, grinning to myself.
As I pocketed Monty’s key for later, I passively listened to the crowd.
“Bulldogs lie! Dragons fly! Bulldogs lie! Dragons fly!”
It was getting more directed against Boston U. If I caught Monty cheering along with that, he’d be catching my four hands later. But right now? They were reserved for homegirl’s reptilian twin.
“Ay! Ay! Scale-back chump!”
The crowd kept on their chant, ignoring that callout. Boring.
“DRAGONS DIE!”
That shut them up. Everyone turned to the stadium’s away team door. I did a ballerina twirl, putting up two peace signs, two hands to my left hip, posed like an anime protagonist in a triumphant freeze-frame.
“It’s MOTHS that fly!”
Several gasps passed through the crowd like snakes hissing in the bushes. I hopped back, and jogged out directly towards Ezekiel. I may’ve been smaller than him in his suit, but a humanoid moth was no less cartoony than a foam and fiberglass dragon.
The dragon crossed his arms, tilting his head back as I ran up. “Hey, missy, the furry convention’s down in the Fens.”
I got up in his face, crossing my arms right back. My eyes were already hurting from keeping wide open, but I could see him shrink back just a bit. “Yeah, they thought you got lost on your way~” I teased.
“Just who’re you supposed to be, some butterfly fresh out of a toner cartridge explosion?”
I twirled back away, my foot barely missing his stomach. Turned away from him, I struck another pose, showing off my Boston U jersey before going into a dance. “Gimme an S! Gimme a T! Gimme e-l-l A! Stella the moth! Raring to play!”
After a cartwheel, I did a handstand on my two left hands, shaking somewhat but still managing to stick up a heart symbol with my right hands. “Boston U’s star bug! The bug zapper, the astral attacker!”
I dropped back down and did a jump and spin, taking a fighting stance at Zippy as his ball team grouped up behind him, confused. I pointed two fingers at Zippy, nervous someone had noticed my right hands desyncing before. “And the dragons’ waking night-terror!”
Silence filled the air, everyone holding their breath for several moments. Then an uproar of cheers and boos, rabid Mitt supporters verbally fighting to out-enthuse the folks I excited. Obscuring as his mask was, I could feel Zippy glaring at me.
I did a cartwheel back away. “Satur-satur-saturday! Lizard vee’ Saturnian!” I chanted.
“Lizard verse’ Scribonia!” came a single voice. Monty’s, and beast-damnit that correction made me cringe.
I did another cartwheel, then a twirl in place, flupping out my wings to show off the night-sky pattern on them. “M-I-T! Boston U! Moths will slay! Drakes fall through!”
“Moths will slay!” “Drakes will flay!” “M-I-T!” “Go Boston U!” “Hell yeah Stella!” “Get her, Sammy!”
‘Sammy’. How unoriginal. I just smirked, doing another wheel, then another, belting out another cheer with each one. The pep rally turned into a split of spirits, Monty disappearing from the crowd while several people pulled their phones, or already had them out. As I hit the edge of the turf, I made eye contact with Zippy, who had an air of disgust hiding under those fake eyes. I pointed to myself then him.
“Next week, serpent boy! You better practice that crawling on your belly! You’ll need it when I’m done with you!”
“We’ll see about that, micro-mothra! You fly into my flames, you’re gonna get burned!”
I went out to the parking lot, where Monty was frantically patting himself down. I skipped up and dangled his keys out for him. “Sorryyyyy, I got some stabby thoughts about dumbhead mcgee back there. Decided to challenge him to a boxing match instead~”
Monty’s eyes went wide at the sight of me in my real form. “...Holy shit, Alyssa, you look… Wow. Can’t even be mad about the keys…”
I scoffed, dropping the ‘fob on the asphalt at his feet so he’d scramble to pick them back up and unlock his car. “Wooooow, you like some insect more than miss unconventionally attractive hispanic girl? Can’t tell whether to call you racist, superficial, or a furry~” I jeered.
Monty chuckled awkwardly. “Uh, isn’t that your… Actual self though?”
I giggled, pushing him towards the car door as I skipped around to get in the passenger’s seat. “Duh~ What better than having an actual live cryptid come up to rep a university football team?”
“Oh, I thought mothman lived in Virginia?”
I glanced around, before my fur and lower arms retracted, my body morphing to human guise once again. “I mean, you’re not WRONG about mothman, but legit, that was going around Ty and I’s dorm.”
Monty turned away as I changed, probably to be polite, then got to driving out and back to our campus. “Not gonna be that great when the bulldogs show up anyway, though.”
“Oh you’ll see, Monto, I’ve got my methods- and Ty’s gonna owe me grands when we get a new costume and merch in.”
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out. Tyler calling, so I ignored it. I had multiple missed calls from her, Scape, and Nebula all at once… I’d take that as a stunt success.
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