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[yourtomb]

[[Pretty it up later maybe

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[yourtomb]

i. So Flood Me Like Atlantic — Edge of the Grove

[Has there… always been a statue out here, where the Grove gives way to the the trees? Surely not. But that doesn’t change the fact that a suit of armor stands deathly still, silently surveying the grove. A blade, solid black as if cut from obsidian, is plunged into the ground at the moment, while metal clad fingers grip the hilt.

Surely this is a new addition. A trick, perhaps, albeit one that’s been sitting undisturbed. Coated by the freshly falling November snow as it is, this little prank has gone unnoticed for some time. A solid inch of powder lays across the surface of metal, unfazed even by the whisper of wind.

It is, by all means, just a statue. And yet, as if sensing the presence of someone else, a flicker of movement may register. The helmet tilts, ethereal plume shifting with it, as the suit of armor seems to consider its visitor.

Well then. What say you?]

ii. Weather Me to Nothing — Stables

[Silent Salt has not yet made sense of what has happened. He recalled, clear as day, kneeling before the virtue of freedom and pledging his strength to her. And yet, just as quickly as he felt relief flood through him, hope for a future yet unwritten, everything seemed to go wrong.

And now… he is here. He knows he is far from the Barren, but the question of just how far settles uncomfortably in his chest. What of Salt Cellar Cookie, and the knights who had only just found their Lord Commander again? And that was to say nothing of the new duty he had thrust upon himself.

His head swims as he tries to search the town for answers. He sincerely doubts that the stables will have any answers for him, yet he stumbles into them all the same, determined to leave no stone left unturned.

Not an entirely worthless effort, he quickly notes. Though it is devoid of answers, it is not devoid of familiarity. A steed just as stained as he is stares back at him, nickering faintly as they regarded one another.]

Nox Black Salt [His voice feels gritty, fettered by an emotion he dares not name.] I should have known you would find your way to my side, even now.

iii. Wash Away the Blood on my Hands — The Inn

[Pleasantly familiar, yet altogether foreign. That is the only way he can describe the sight of a bountiful feast and smiling faces. He has seen solidarity like this before, amongst his own knights and their beloved people. Yet they had never known comfort like this. Meals had been hard fought and fleeting. Meager as they were, they had sufficed for what they were. But this… This was a display of abundance, one he would have wept over all those millenia ago.

Once more, Silent Salt finds himself gripped by that strange sensation. He is grateful that no one, up until this point, has cast a glance his way. He remains in the corner, watching uncorrupted happiness be passed from hand to hand. Given how low he has fallen, he suspects he should be jealous.

But only warmth seems to flood from his chest as he continues to watch. Given how stricken is, you can hopefully forgive him if he doesn’t respond to any nudging right away. Just give him a minute or two, he’ll come around.]

iv. Don't you wake me up — Wildcard

[You know what to do. Throw something at me. Be gentle with me, this is a very new muse and I’m scared.]

I for the boy

[lovelyredthread]

[ Perhaps the sweet scent that carries on the breeze is enough to tell who the young boy is- the Garden's grip never fully releasing, or perhaps its the tart halo bobbing behind his head, but Pavlova for a moment doesn't seem to recognize Silent Salt as he approached.

He looks just the same as the last time Silent Salt saw him all those centuries ago, though perhaps a touch less cheerful. The boy was squinting hard at Silent Salt, as though studying him-- before noticing the soul jam. When he saw that, a smile seemed to break out, genuine at first, then hardening into a mask of forced calm.

All of the virtues fell after all. His father may be doing better, but pretty much anyone from Earthbread was a bright blinking danger sign. Even so, he flutters over, reaching for the hand not directly supporting the hilt of his sword. ]

Uncle Salt! What are you doing just standing there? You've gotta be cold even with all that armor.

iii inn

[argentry]

[it is a normal night at the inn, and Elder Faerie Cookie has been listening to the sounds of people mingling from upstairs in his room. yes, he probably should eat. he's been in his room studying all afternoon, like he's been hibernating.

but something is nagging at his soul, an earnest tugging or nudging, and he is uncertain as to whether it is apprehension or excitement. it is like his heart is leaping in his chest. he wonders what has happened. he's already seen so much in this world. what if something terrible has happened again?

it is chilly, so he gathers up his robes and shoes and makes his way down the stairs alone to find the feast waiting for him. a party? he does not mind if he partakes!

before he can obtain a plate and some food, something in his gut tells him to turn around and look into the corner. it's strange, like eyes are there. that, in itself, would not be unheard of for this haunted inn. what he does not expect is Silent Salt Cookie to be there, not even a ghost, but fully in the armor.

it is a very good thing that Elder Faerie did not grab food, yet, because he would have dropped the plate in his shock. as it is, he's standing still among the festivities]

--!!

III

[jesterlies]

[There is someone in the feast that taking this with way less weight than Salt, but that's probably to be expected. After all, what's the point of being so virtuous about it if it's just going to get eaten anyway? Why risk leaving some to spoil? But Salt has always been this kind of person, Shadow Milk thinks. Very self-righteous and self-sacrificing, even with his fall. Even now he stands at the edges like a sentinel as if watching for some invisible threat.]

[Shadow Milk likes to think he knows the other Beasts fairly well, but Salt had always been harder for him to read. Rather he seemed very straight forward and upfront, but lately... Ah well. None of that really matters now, right? Right.]

[A plate suddenly floats on by Salt, hovers right in front of him. Shadow Milk leans on his staff, appearing moments later out of the ether.]

To have a plate yourself isn't taking away from anyone else, you know!

[yourtomb]

You.

[Silent Salt's voice comes out as a snarl. He snatches his hand back, away from the searching grip. The hand against the blade, meanwhile, tightens, causing leather and metal alike to groan. Young though the cookie might have appeared, Silent Salt knew all too well what Pavlova was capable of. Even if he knew just how terribly his fellow former virtue could twist minds in the name of her corrupted happiness, he could not simply forgive what had been done against his own home.]

State your business or begone.

[lovelyredthread]

[ He winces just slightly, though he looks... rather confused at the blatant hostility. He expected this to not go well, but not quite like that. ]

Well jeeze, I guess that shows me for being concerned!

[ He crosses his arms, shying away a step but looking... petulant if cautious. ]

I just haven't seen you in the Grove before. Do you even know where you are?

here we fuckin go 😭

[yourtomb]

[Many faces seem to come and go from this gathering. Some leave in frustration, having thrown a hand of colorful cards up in the air, while others stumble out in a juice-addled haze. Others come in late, red in the face from the cold. It leaves him with so much to observe, so many faces to keep track of.

Which is why he does not immediately notice the presence of another. Though something certainly does pull at the back of his mind, that has been the case for some time, hasn't it? Thus he pays it no heed until he has finished observing the newest face to enter from the outdoors.

In the end, he is not sure if he regrets not turning to look sooner, or if he wishes he had kept his eyes away for longer. Like many things — the decisions of White Lily Cookie, the ascension of the new virtues, to name just a scant few — news of Elder Faerie's fate had reached him despite his solitude. He had resigned himself to never seeing his dear friend again, deciding that it was perhaps for the best. Better that Elder Faerie not have to witness his terrible fall anymore than he already has.

And yet... here he is. Here they both are.

Silent Salt takes a step forward, body moving without his permission. When sense returns, he halts his forward momentum, instead tilting his head as he tries to make out what manner of magic could be causing an illusion such as this.]

How is it that you - ?

[yourtomb]

[It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed. From the moment he arrived, he'd felt the threads of Shadow Milk's presence. Cursory investigation of his surroundings had revealed all the evidence he needed to confirm that suspicion — the research hall was an obvious hallmark of the former emissary. Since then, he'd kept a respectable distance from the other Cookie.

Best not to start a fight when there were so many dynamics at play, after all.

That didn't mean he let his guard down. He had been waiting for some time for Shadow Milk to show his hand, to make a move of his own. It was only a matter of time — the jester did seem to wither without adequate attention, after all.

The floating plate is caught with nary a glance. Instead, Silent Salt turns his attention toward Shadow Milk as he appears.]

I do not need it. [Behind the helmet, a single eye swivels in search of a soul without a meal. Finding none, he opts to keep the plate for the time being. Surely someone would be hungry soon enough.] Since when does Deceit care for the well being of others?

[yourtomb]

[With a more respectable distance achieved, Silent Salt's grip eases up. Though he still regards Pavlova with no small amount of suspicion, he can at least be contented with this much.]

You choose now to be concerned? [He doubts the truth in those words, and shakes his head at the thought.] It matters not where I am. I will endure, as I always have.

[jesterlies]

[It was incredibly telling that Salt did not seek him out, after he knew the other was deeply aware of his presence. The Beholders watched him frequently from corners of the Grove. And yet, perhaps it was also telling that Shadow Milk similarly did not make himself just as known! Loudly, and with confetti.]

[There is something Different between them now, though Shadow Milk doesn't know what it is on Salt's end.]

Hm, have you eaten anything at all since you arrived here I wonder! I bet you're shriveling right up! These bodies aren't like our dough from before, after all.

[Or maybe he's just a specter in a suit of armor. He wonders...]

Good question! If I told you the answer, would you even believe me?

[yourtomb]

[There are many advantages to wearing a hunk of metal on ones head. Right now, said advantage was hiding the way he grimaces at Shadow Milk's words. He has learned all too well how different his body has become. There are new needs, grotesque ones, to tend to, while old ones have taken on a new form.

Thankfully, he has already learned his lesson about eating. If a cookie-turned-man in a suit of armor falls down outside of a forest, and no one is around to laugh at him, did it really happen?]

I have eaten. [Plain, barely toasted bread suited him just fine. It was a plentiful enough resource, one he did not set the sharp teeth of guilt to gnawing at his insides.] And now I am content to ensure others do.

[His head tilts, gaze staring down at the other cookie. After a moment, a faint breath — almost close to a snort — leaves him.]

We both know the answer to that.

[argentry]

[Elder Faerie stays stock-still, his eyes fixed upon the moving suit of armor. even now he knows it, even now, he remembers the Beast that came to him covered in crumbs and jam. not his own, no. that was...

his eyes well with tears and he has to stop himself from breaking down in the middle of the feast. already, a few interested pairs of eyes are staring at the both of them, and he desperately wishes he had enough power to disappear, with Silent Salt in tow, so that they could be alone for this reunion.

his dear friend seems surprised. and, why wouldn't he be? Elder Faerie should not be alive. yet, mercifully, he was brought to this world. and, perhaps, even more mercifully, he was given a chance to meet White Lily Cookie again. and this one, too! certainly, Elder Faerie had toyed with the idea that either the Salt of Solidarity or Silent Salt the Beast could be brought here. if he was able to be revived, then the Gods of this world could bring anyone from Earthbread, be they dead or alive]

This world has both horrors and magic even beyond our own.

[his voice is cracked, dry. he steels himself, but it doesn't prevent the tear that rolls down his cheek. he quickly wipes at it]

[lovelyredthread]

Yeah, that'd be why I said it.

[ Not that he expects to be believed. If anyone were going to be wary of Deceit from him from the start, it'd be the other beasts. ]

It does matter. Because we're not on Earthbread now and everything is different. You don't even know what you're enduring or who's here or anything.

[yourtomb]

[Some part of Silent Salt itches to reach out. He cannot say how long this side of him has lain dormant for. He wants to believe it fell into slumber the moment the Salt of Solidarity ceased to be, but he suspects it stretches even further beyond that. Even before he stained himself forevermore, he believed himself to be unworthy of the time and grace that Elder Faerie gave him.

Even still, his chest aches with the need to wipe that single tear away.]

Then whatever horrors I shall face, in this realm, I shall do so without question. Any of it would be worth this gift. [And yet...] Do not weep for me, old friend.

[After all he has done, he does not deserve the tears of one so great. Yet even as he says this, he feels something burn within his own vision. The tightness in his throat also sees fit to return. How troublesome.]

[yourtomb]

How convenient. [He feels his resolve fragment. Metal clanks together as he clenches fingers into fists.] If only you could have mustered that concern centuries ago.

[It is good, though, that he does not lash out. Regardless of what Pavlova Cookie had done to him, he at least seems keen to share information. Though Silent Salt knows better than to trust the minions of the Beasts, he can still file whatever is shared away.]

Then I shall find out. I have managed more with less. As I always have.

[lovelyredthread]

I wasn't allowed outside the Sugarlands, and I certainly didn't see you visit mother's garden. How would you know how I felt?

[ certainly, he was up to no good, and back then he rarely questioned it. But Silent Salt didn't know that, and being treated like some bug under his heel is ruffling the boy's feathers. As though this was somehow his fault.

... sure he feels responsible for not stopping anything, but how would his mother have reacted? He barely got clearance to leave the garden at all after they were unbound as it was. Going against her was just asking to get turned into a statue.

Whatever! He fluffs his feathers, the wings reaching around his shoulders as he crossed his arms ]

You'll get yourself killed or infected by the forest like that. It's not safe in the woods.

[argentry]

[WOW???? put those sweet words away??? Elder Faerie is going to die. again.

he wipes at his other cheek, catching another tear]

Fear not. I weep not for you, but for the god of this world that has allowed me to see you again. I am sorry that you shall have to suffer this fate, though, at the same time, I am glad for it.

[this means that Silent Salt must have been here, too, right? in the past? Elder Faerie can only hope that is the case.

anyway, he's starting to walk, at least, his feet are. they wish to move, wish to get closer. the ache in his heart is much more painful. the idea that this could all be a dream, or not real, is too painful to bear]

[jesterlies]

[They are utterly disgusting, Shadow Milk thinks. They have uses, but ugh, everything else. He grins though, because while he cannot see the grimace, his pause tells him plenty.]

Hm. [He doesn't believe you, or if he's eaten, it was probably hardly anything at all. Perhaps he found hardtack somewhere and has been subsisting off of that!] Very well! Do what you want with the plate, I would just hate to find you depleted and face down in the snow because this finicky human body gave up on you. Embarrassing, if you ask me!

[But that is all he will say on that. For now. Anyway, was that a laugh? Hohoho, it might have been. He seems pleased, though as Salt looks down, it's the Beholder in Shadow Milk's staff that meets his gaze, while Shadow Milk looks forward, gaze focused on nothing. Even human, his appearance is terribly different. Hair short, the eyes all closed. He is beset with dozens of scars, which he boasts proudly with his clothing choices.]

Then you'll just have to wonder forever! Alas!

[yourtomb]

And yet your whispers still managed to taint my home.

[But going around and around like this will get them nowhere. It's clear that Pavlova has information about this place. Centuries of gathering knowledge and observing meant little in this place, in this realm beyond his ken. It is an uncomfortable realization, just as having to work with those who had damned him would surely be.]

Tell me of the woods, then, if you are so concerned.

[yourtomb]

Suffering is not so foreign to me. [Still, a level of tension does manage to weave into his voice. He's managed to glean some information over the last few days, enough to know that there is a threat. That Elder Faerie suspects it could crumble even him however, speaks to just how grave it is.

And thus, he cannot help but worry for Elder Faerie in kind.

For now, his attention turns to the way the other cookie moves. Those steps draw him tantalizingly closer, drawing out an ache from a long dormant part of Silent Salt's own jam. And thus, the way he instinctively takes a step back can only be blamed on that.

He has never been worthy.]

Do not sully yourself. [There is a weight to his voice, a gravity that threatens to cause it to crack. He swallows once.] Not for me.

[argentry]

[oh.

Elder Faerie comes to a halt several steps away, looking so dejected. it is easy to see how sullen the Beast is, even now. Elder Faerie brings his hands up to hold over his stomach, managing to keep the tears at bay, even if he is wounded]

My apologies. I did not mean to make you nervous.

[he would hold him, if he could. but maybe those days are long gone now. perhaps... Silent Salt does not want that]

...But do understand that I care not for what happens to me. I have already departed, and, the moment I am sent away from this world, I will be gone for good.

[yourtomb]

[The insistence only makes him want to pass of the plate more. Unfortunately, no one looks hungry enough for seconds, and there is no way that Silent Salt will be wasting food, of all things. He is left holding it awkwardly to the side, hovering over the heads of many.

You know. Normal things. Just like Shadow Milk's appearance is normal and not at all concerning. As he waited for his own fate to be meted out, he had watched the other Beasts in their attempts to sully those who came after them. Never once had Shadow Milk looked like this. It only proved that whatever creature reigned over this place was truly powerful.

But just how far did that damage go. He suspects that Shadow Milk has been robbed of his sight. All signs indicate as much. Nevertheless, he resorts to the one thing he knows will garner the cookie's attention. He reaches toward the still outstretched plate and steals a small slice of roasted meat between the claws of his gauntlets. It takes some tilting to be able to sneak the bite beneath his helm, but hopefully it will be worth it.

His eyes never leave the Beholder.]

Whether you wish to admit it or not - [Silent Salt speaks only after the small bite has been swallowed. He tries to ignore the way his stomach begins to roil for more. Surely he'd eaten enough earlier.] - you will supply me with information all the same. You would not turn away a powerful ally against whatever forces exist beyond the trees.

[lovelyredthread]

I seriously have no idea what you're talking about. Ugh.

[ But he leaves that issue there and huffs, looking out at the forest. ]

This place, It's called Aldric's Grove. There's an angry god that's taken over the forest here, and he toys with us for fun and revenge. The other gods and guardians around here have been helping protect us, but they can only do so much.

As for what the forest can do... I'm not really sure exactly how it infects people, but Miss Lily was infected by it and it used her to trap us all in a dream realm once. So if it gets ahold of you it can control you. And it gets worse the longer you have it, so going out too deep into the woods without knowing the safe paths is really bad.

[yourtomb]

[Perhaps that had been the wrong choice. Silent Salt does not miss the visceral reaction in Elder Faerie's form. Yet he also does not understand it, either. Centuries, trapped or otherwise, had not been enough to wash away the crumbs and jam that stained him. Even in their precious, shared moments, he had doubted his worthiness.

But surely it was obvious now that he did not deserve such light. Elder Faerie was the wisest cookie he had ever known. Surely even he would agree that things should be left like this. Wounded as he might have been, he would remain untarnished by Silent Salt's own presence.

It doesn't make any sense. And with little to work with in terms of an argument, especially when Elder Faerie seems more concerned with him, he can only choke out.]

I am not nervous. [That much, at least, he can dispel. The rest of what Elder Faerie says, however, manages to shatter any other argument he might have had. Even if he knows that his companion was gone from their home, it is another matter entirely to even consider witnessing such a thing.

He was beginning to understand just how far the cruelty of this realm ran.]

So. This place offers up that which we long for, all for the sake of tearing it away?

[Even the Beasts had not displayed such cruelty toward himself or his subjects.]

[yourtomb]

[Doubt lingers, but he says nothing. As long as Pavlova Cookie seemed willing to comply, he would say nothing. Instead, he tucks the important information that's delivered away in the back of his mind. He would compare it to his own investigation later, and draw his conclusions after that.

At least, that was his intention. Past a certain point, though, the words seem to stop registering. It's a miracle in and of itself that he does not interrupt the smaller cookie.]

Lily - [Relief and dread both well up within him.] Do you refer to White Lily Cookie?