Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Minute was fucked. He had been for a while now. The stupid fighting pit that bought him at auction was thorough in his captivity. Minute had been with them for just over a month, trying in vain to escape their barbaric facility.

A fighting ring. All Minute's life he had been running, not a second to breathe, and he was to die in a fucking fighting ring.

Rude, offensive, utterly dull way to die in Minute’s mind.

They had been thwarting his escape attempts at every opportunity wasted. They warned him each time was his last chance, but he wasn’t willing to go down on their terms. But in doing so, he had pissed off just about everyone working at the godforsaken hell pit.

Well, maybe his escape attempts wouldn’t be as upsetting if Minute gave a good fight in the ring, but really, he was not here to entertain. He was no dog to be pointed at an opponent. He was good, too good for the things thrown at him.

Minute had to make the ultimate choice too many times already, fighting people who did not want to be there but were as desperate to live as him. Minute had killed more in his life than any one person should.

Minute’s fights were anticlimactic and dull. He hit to kill—quick, effective, unstoppable—and no matter how big an opponent they put him against, he was as belligerent as a sledgehammer and as graceful as a swan.

In essence, he was dull and killed all their good crowds real quick.

So Minute was pissing off too many of the wrong people, and he was not heeling when ordered. He was a nuisance to them without bringing any income.

There was a shipment from a different trader, not a trafficking ring as Minute had been bought from, but an 'exotic collector'—demons, rare, dangerous, and untethered demons.

A trio from the snatches he heard. All boys. One was shipped to high command’s personal zoo, an exotic nursery full of sorry sods who were there to entertain guests. One was to be fighting in the ring, as they all were. And one was feral—young, useless to the cause.

From what Minute heard, he was being chucked in solitary confinement. No one was meant to get out of solitary. It was another word for death pit, really, and the demon down there was going to be the punishment.

even scared Minute didn’t have a choice. He needed to get out, so only two days after the demons were delivered and divided up, he tried to escape again. He was so close—a slit window, he just needed to climb up and slip through, and he would be out on the home stretch. Freedom.

But a meaty hand grabbed his ankle and tugged him down to the cold, dirty stone. A boot was slammed into his stomach, and an electric taser jammed into his ribs. Minute was used to the dull burn, but still, he retched.

"This is the last time I’ll be dealing with you," the slow guard said, his voice sour and pissed. "I’m gonna be glad to see the back of ya." And with that, he dragged Minute away from freedom and towards the pit.

Minute fought for his life, for his chance at freedom, but every time he struggled, the taser was applied, and he was shocked harshly. They were going to solitary. To the pit no one came out of. Minute was internally panicking. Externally panicking. Panicking. He didn’t know what to do. He was going to die. He was going to die, and he was going to die on their fucking terms.

The door opened, and Minute vowed he was not dying quietly. They may be setting the terms, but he was not being watched. This was real. This was a real death. Minute was going down fighting. Fuck this guy. Fuck this plan. Minute was going to fucking kill that demon.

"One way down," the grabby guard almost laughed as he chucked Minute down. It was a sharp drop into the pit no one was meant to get out of. He fell gracelessly, but when he hit the bottom, he quickly righted himself and faced the monster.

It stood tall. It hissed. Its hair stuck straight up. Its eyes burned a bright yellow like stars. Horns sprouted out of its head as sharp black claws flashed in the dull light.

Minute had faced many foes. He had seen a demon from afar, but he had never expected, wanted, or thought he would be forced to fight one face-to-face, close range. They were known to have powerful magical abilities, strength that never faltered, swords that returned to their hands, fire, ice, water—anything to keep them alive. He dreaded to think what this one had, but Minute couldn’t wait.

He inspected their stance. He was going down fighting, after all. But as he stood still, the demon didn’t approach. Didn’t do anything but continue to hiss menacingly. Maybe it was waiting for him to approach so it could lash out like an ambush spider. Minute was not willing to find out.

He would strike first.

He grabbed it by the horn and jammed an elbow in the rib, kicking the feet out. Minute flipped the actually quite small form over onto its back. Not letting up for a second, he followed them down and jammed his knee into its chest, pinning the struggling figure as he looped both hands in a tight grip and pinned them above the head.

It could not be that easy. But Minute stared. The beast, the great creature of legend, the monster in the pit, was under him. Its entire throat now tilted in a signal of submission. The hisses had stopped, replaced with a high trill, and its eyes were huge—no longer like yellow stars, more like eclipsed suns, the pupil blown wide.

The demon, the monster he had resigned to kill him, was submitting to Minute, letting him do as he pleased.

"What the fuck?" he asked aloud to alleviate some of the confusion, vocalising his muddled thoughts.

And the thing—it perked up.

"You talk?" it asked and then swiftly went back to the soft trill.

Minute, in his surprise, shoved his knee back into its chest.

Okay, so not feral. Very much not feral. Talking demon on the floor.

Minute gave the monster another look, a closer look, one that really dug into their skin and inspected their face. Because when it was submitting, not flashing claws or growling menacingly, there wasn’t much to go by. Minute would almost say they looked normal... just a person with extra bits, like any other hybrid.

"What are you?" Minute asked, confused, and the look he got back was two parts incredulous, one part humorous.

"A demon," they answered, and Minute dug his knee in deeper.

"What are your powers?" he asked next, and the way they froze—he hadn’t even noticed those subtle vibrations, the gentle, relaxing, soothing, submissive chitter—until it stopped. Silence prevailed. And then they said—

"I'm really smart."

It came out more a question than anything, and wow, they were a bad liar.

"Nope. Lying. Try again," he ordered, and they sighed shallowly.

"Not all demons have powers!" they protested weakly, and Minute sighed. Factually incorrect. Some demons didn’t know their powers, though. Usually the young ones, or when a power was very specific. He knew of one demon that could dodge crossbolts—only crossbolts—and didn’t know that power until they had an entire firing squad miss.

"You don’t know them. Cool," he said dismissively. They looked offended but went back to chittering when Minute gave them a sharp look. This type of power was a little intoxicating, if Minute was being honest.

"So why were you acting all crazy?"

He meant when he entered the pit, but the demon took it as—

"Mapicc told me to so I didn't get shoved in the pit," he said, and Minute frowned.

"Why?" he asked.

"I can't fight."

He didn't seem ashamed, but he also didn't look proud, like he was resigned to this as a fact. "He didn’t wanna deal with me as well, so Poafa talked them into making me a killing machine." He then bit his lip. He was still presenting his throat to Minute, but his eyes were no longer little eclipsed suns. "The hope was no one would get chucked."

Minute growled at him, and the strange demon looked away. Carefully, Minute got off him, and the second he was no longer pinned, the demon darted out from under him and into a random corner, where he tucked in on himself.

Minute frowned but let him be.

o0O0o

They mostly stay on their sides of the room. Minute isn't sure how they decided whose side was whose. The demon didn't seem content. But he was pressed so tightly into the wall. It must be some kind of defence mechanism. Minute was never good at people.

He realised he hadn't introduced himself, nor had he learned the demon's name. But before he could break their long-settled silence, a sound came from an upper latch—a gravelly shake and then a clatter as a package of food came down, followed by a bottle of water.

Minute stared. A slab of raw meat and a block of bread. He looked at it. The water was in the bottle to the side. He picked up the food, inspecting it closely. They really had sent just a slab of raw meat. No cutlery, no way to wipe the blood. Just meat.

Minute looked over to the demon, who was still tucked into the corner, but this time his eyes were fixed on the far corner, not looking anywhere close to Minute. He wondered for a second, and then it hit.

The demon was scared of him. Didn't want to provoke him.

For how much he knew about fighting demons, Minute had no idea if they had a culture of pack or lone survival. He also had no idea how their social hierarchy worked or literally anything about anything but their powers and how they killed with them.

He was not inclined to get closer, but after he learned he could beat the demon in combat, Minute felt reassured. Reassured enough to try being a little bit reckless.

Minute stands up, and the way the demon tilts his head in clear submission is so fucking weird, but Minute was committed. He was going to share food with this fucker and get their name. He marched over, and they pressed close to the wall. He stood over them and was given no reaction. The meat was dripping blood on the floor, and the bread was just there.

With no reaction given, Minute does the only reasonable thing—grabs the demon by the neck, eliciting a startled tightening in posture and a flinch, and turns him to face Minute.

The way he blinks and stays still tells Minute the stranger was shit scared. He was half impressed he hadn’t pissed himself, really.

Minute forcefully splits the meat and half the bread. He then sat down with half his body facing the demon and ate his share, not looking.

The demon took a long time to get up the bravery to try eating, but when Minute didn’t react, he scarfed down the food real fast.

They eat and are okay after. Then Minute turns to the demon.

"I'm Minute," he introduces. He does not give his full name, but the demon blinks, and after a beat, they introduce themselves.

"I'm Jepex."

Awkward and stilted, but now he had a name. And now he could relax. And Jepex didn’t look like he was going to immediately murder Minute, which was nice.

o0O0o

Jepex was shy for all of five minutes. Minute had settled into his corner, but it seemed upon realising Minute wasn’t going to immediately eat him, Jepex got bold.

It started innocuous enough, really—so subtle he wouldn’t notice if not for the sinking feeling in his chest he had elected to ignore.

Jepex asked questions—how long Minute had been in the fighting ring, what the fighting ring was, how long Jepex had been in the fighting ring basement, whether he had seen the other demons delivered with Jepex. He peppered questions into the numb silence like little surprises, and Minute had answered fine enough.

But Jepex didn’t stop asking questions. Where he was from—Minute had not answered that one. What he would be doing if he wasn’t in the facility—Minute had not answered that one either. Innocent things like what his favourite colour was, and less innocent like how he would like to be killed.

Minute was getting more and more exasperated by the guy, and then he seemed to just get worse.

Jepex had a lot of energy, it seemed. Jepex liked to run. He had been mindful to give Minute a reasonable berth, but their cell was only so big—five foot by seven foot—and Jepex would run around at least ten times an hour, just bouncing from wall to wall like a wild animal. It was manic and weird, and Minute would just watch him with curiosity as he did so.

It was clear that Jepex was bored as shit when he began a new game. Alongside the occasional question and the rushing around, he would sit close to Minute, which was odd to begin with, but rather unsubtly, he would inch closer to him.

Minute tried not to let it get to him, but Jepex seemed intent on messing with him. As he inched closer and closer, his eyes zeroed in on Minute, who let him. He knew he could beat Jepex. He had nothing to prove. Let the demon play his games.

It was when, quick as a whip, Jepex darted out, poked Minute in the cheek, and danced back with gleeful agility that he realised his new roommate was a complete fucking dumbass.

o0O0o

They go on like this for a while—Jepex entertaining himself and Minute entertaining himself by watching the absolute madman try. Minute was confused when Jepex kept trying to push him, but after he dodged a blow and laughed, Minute knew he was playing. Or at least trying to.

So they played tag. Round after round. Jepex may be a shit fighter, but he could run like a man hunted—maybe because Minute was basically merciless in his assaults. Jepex would just keep asking for a game, though. Even when Minute sat down, he would poke him and rush away. He would pout at Minute. It was sort of endearing and very fucking annoying.

He had only played a few rounds so Minute could wear himself out enough to sleep, and now he had a hyped-up demon trying to jumpscare him into another game of chase. He needed to do something to solve his problem. On a sleep-deprived brain, Minute did what could only be described as the most impulsive, strange, and outright off thing he had ever done.

He reached out and grabbed Jepex, full body, yanked him down onto the ground with him, and tucked him under his chin. Okay, he was spooning an abject stranger, but Minute’s life had descended into hell a while ago, and this seemed fine enough.

"Dude, what gives?" Jepex asked, wiggling desperately to get out of his grip, but Minute just tightened his hold.

"You're warm," he murmured sleepily, already settling in for a nap. Jepex, however, was trying to wriggle his way out. The idiot. Didn’t he realise it was nap time?

Minute squeezed him tighter, eliciting a wheeze out of the little demon, and chuckled as he loosened his hold. Jepex, it seemed, had stopped fighting, which was nice. Minute tucked his face into the crook of his neck, solidifying their connection and settling in for sleep.

Jepex seemed to release hidden tension that Minute greatly appreciated, as it made his settling in easier. The trill he elicited was light and nice, and as they eased into sleep, Minute felt Jepex press close to him.

The peace of sleep calmed them both, and they sank.

o0O0o

Jepex was having an off day. That’s what Minute had to guess when he didn’t jump up and race around like he usually did. Jepex just sat there, really, in one of the corners. Minute liked the peace for all of five minutes before reality kicked in and the question of why he was acting so shy came into play.

Minute was not one to be fooled.

Jepex was sad and was piss poor at hiding it.

Minute sat and observed for a while, not one to jump in at first, but well, Jepex was the only other person here. He needed to at least make sure he wasn’t gonna go psycho and commit murder or something.

"Hey, Jepex," he began, and the look he got was like murder. Minute would be impressed if he didn’t know Jepex’s fighting skill could not back up his drama. He just pressed on. "Jepex, why are you moping?" He could probably phrase it better, but well…

Jepex hissed at him, like full-blown hissed at him. It was kind of funny, mostly off-putting though.

"Shut up," he shot after the drawn-out silence, slumping down from his ramrod straight back.

Minute frowned some more. "You're really not okay, are you?" he asked and got a dirty look in return. He shrugged, unrepentant. It was true.

"I miss—" he began but cut himself off, face-planting the cold, hard ground. But Minute wasn’t going to let him have the out. He wanted answers. Minute walked over and went to poke his prickly cellmate, but the man bolted up and backed away from an outstretched hand.

"Don't!" he yelled before his eyes fell on Minute, and he went quiet. Minute frowned. Interesting.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, and Jepex gave in like he did most of the time. But for once, Minute didn’t begrudge the fight. It seemed to have settled something for Jepex at least.

"I miss my sonder," he said spitefully, pressing his face into the ground and looking betrayed. Minute frowned, though, because what the hell was a sonder?

"You what?" he pressed, and Jepex frowned into the floor. The crease of his brow was just visible.

"My sonder, uhh," he struggled for a second, "my pack?"

Minute knew that word, like a group that many bonding species liked. He knew that the fighting ring used pack bonds to make people fight harder, but Jepex was a demon. Should he be connected?

"Who are they?" Minute asked, fishing for information. Jepex turned over and looked at him.

"You know the two upstairs?" Minute blinked. He knew of them, but no one was really swimming in information, especially for him.

"Okay, no," he acquiesced, but Jepex seemed to want to go on.

"So there's Mapicc, right? He's like a ball of rage, really just wants to break things," he blinked his eyes with a little smile. "He's such a bitch, it's so annoying. I always try to do things, and he's like no, you're wrong, and oh," he trailed off.

"Then there's Poafa," Jepex rolled over now to really tie off the swooning teenager-moping look. Minute would laugh if he didn’t think it would ruin what little peace they had.

"Poafa's a controlling asshole," he said with a dreamy smile. "He's a bit like Mapicc. When I do stuff, he's always telling me I'm wrong, but he also won't let me try. He's like, you can't eat that, Jepex." He pouted, but this time it was theatrical, not sad. Minute frowned.

Minute watched as he rolled over and looked up at him with big, wet yellow eyes, like a cat in a sewer drain begging to be picked up.

"I miss them so, so, so much, Minute," he face-planted again, and Minute settled beside him as he lay on the ground. He didn’t think he was in danger of a tiny kitten mauling.

Minute had to pick his next words carefully, or well, he should, but he didn’t. It wasn’t like he was very good at this feeling thing anyway.

"Sounds like you hated them," he said with mild curiosity, and Jepex gasped, full-body theatrical, flipping over to glare at him. But it was dampened by his still-present wet cat watery eyes.

"How dare you," he said, affronted, and then curled into a ball to sulk. Minute didn’t laugh, but he smiled awkwardly. He patted Jepex on the head and got a little trill in what he hoped was thanks. He was still not good at reading the trills, after all.

o0O0o

Okay, so Minute wasn’t just sitting placidly. He was trying to escape with the begrudging help of Jepex. The demon seemed convinced his sonder were going to come for them, but if Minute could speed up the escape or else get out and not ride his entire survival on a stranger’s faith, he would.

He first inspected the food chute. The small tunnel could not be climbed up. It was about half the size of his head, only really fitting the food down by angling it the right way, and it was embedded in the wall, so no ripping it open. Still, Minute did try.

Jepex had actually sat still to watch him do that and had rather unhelpfully laughed at his failure. The bitch. Minute had then insisted on trying to get out the gap up the wall, the space he had been thrown through and no one had ever opened. Jepex recounted that yes, he had never seen the door opened apart from when he was tossed in here and when Minute was, so getting out that way seemed debatable.

Minute still made Jepex stand against the wall and give him a leg up so he could rush up the almost seven-foot drop and try to grab the cleat of the door. He was unsuccessful, and they both ended up in a heap on the floor.

"Are we done now?" Jepex asked in a heap on the floor. Minute was despairing as he saw his chances of escape dwindling.

He rolled over off Jepex, who wheezed at the shifting pressure, then Minute curled up, head tucked into his knees, eyes shut. He was suppressing a shiver as he felt the weight of their situation crash down upon him. At any point, they could open the chute and see Minute was alive and well. At any point, they could stop sending food or water down to Jepex. At any point, Minute was going to lose control, and it was all going to fucking fall apart.

Minute didn’t expect Jepex to approach. In fact, he didn’t hear the usually heavy-footed demon's approach, but he did feel the soft hand on his back and the rush of air as he sat down beside him.

"So this is totally fucked," he said almost cheerily. But Minute had heard him rant about Mapicc and Poafa. He knew what happy Jepex sounded like. He knew what sad Jepex sounded like.

Jepex ran his clawed hand along his spine, light, gentle, not enough to hurt, just enough pressure to remind Minute he was there, alive with him.

"Man, I'm bad at this feelings thing," he complained, and Minute huffed a laugh. He was not crying. He was just breathing irregularly. He was just stressed. This was fine. He was not going to die of it.

"You make me want to try, though," Jepex continued like that was a totally normal thing to say. Minute’s breath hitched.

He felt the feather-light weight of Jepex press against his side. He breathed a little deeper.

"I know you don’t trust me," Jepex said gently. "You don’t even know me, I get it," he continued, and Minute pressed into him, back first. "But please, my sonder, Mapicc, Poafa—they won’t leave us down here to rot."

He spoke with such faith, such certainty, that Minute wanted to believe him. Wanted to. And as he despaired, maybe he did, just a little. Just enough to get him to turn his face and look at Jepex, whose sad yellow eyes blinked down at him, placid and sweet.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to open up, but fuck it. Minute would never be ready.

"I don’t have any family," he began, and Jepex cocked his head, his expression placid and unreadable. Minute appreciated the non-reaction. "I come from the void. None of us have family, unless you are born a twin star." He had heard of one a thousand years ago.

"Blood family ain’t all that good," Jepex told him, and Minute chuffed another laugh. This one was less wet. "It's the family you choose that matters. You're stuck with me now, Minute. You're sonder."

Minute had nothing to say. He just smiled up at Jepex, the demon grinning down at him. For once, Minute was the one on the floor. Jepex pressed down and pressed his face into the junction of his neck.

They slept like that in the heap Minute had made, with the warm feeling Jepex had conjured. They slept warm and wrapped together, face to face. Jepex purred quietly.

o0O0o

So things after that changed, and yet they stayed the same. See, Minute was not a very open person. He never had the chance to be. But now he had been picked by the one and only Jepex, who seemed to always have love rolling off him. Minute wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Jepex was snuggly. Minute supposed he already knew this.

But he also learned Jepex didn’t really care how he was in contact with Minute, so in his never-ending quest to deplete his endless stock of energy, he could and would often initiate scramble fights with the void-born.

Minute wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or not.

Because Jepex may be a demon, but he was awful at fighting, and Minute was a certified bitch. He liked to flip Jepex and pin him on his stomach and laugh as the demon struggled. But Jepex just kept coming back. No matter how often he lost, how often he failed, he would get back up and ask for another fight.

Jepex was resilient if nothing else. Always ready to fight. Always ready to jump back to his feet and go another ten rounds.

He just seemed to have so much energy, it was exhausting. But Minute needed to keep strong, and well, it was kind of funny. Jepex was just funny like that. Yeah, he was annoying and would poke Minute and bother him while he was trying to sleep, jump on his back, laugh at him—but it was Jepex.

He was cute, okay?

Then there was the other part of his snuggly streak, the thing Minute did not blush about. No. Nope. Not at all. Jepex liked to climb into Min’s lap any hour of the day, any state of consciousness. It was as if the demon now had a sixth sense for when Minute’s legs were unguarded and accessible to be lumped over.

He would climb gracelessly into his lap and slump all up in Minute’s space with a smug little grin that was somehow still endearing. And fuck. Minute was just down bad.

He was still stressed. The food kept coming regularly. He was still scared. Jepex would sleep curled up with him, purring like a machine to drown out the air upstairs. Minute was still in survival mode. But for now, he could wait. He could trust Jepex.

Chapter Text

Mapicc was pissed, pure unadulterated pissed, and why shouldn’t he be? He had been kidnapped, separated from his sonder, forced to scare Jepex into acting as aggressive and inhuman as all living things seemed to think them, and now he was in a fighting pit.

Typical.

He didn’t know where they took Poafa. He hoped the softer soul would be safe. Out of the three of them, Poafa could handle himself. He may be the nicest of them, but he was able to get on just fine without Mapicc's surveillance. Jepex was trapped in a cage, no one was getting in and out, and he wasn’t happy, but at least Mapicc had some time.

So he was going through hell, so what? It wasn’t deep. He was managing. He was doing fine.

Mapicc was leaning against the cold stone of the back wall of his little cell, maybe five feet squared, but who was counting? He was. Mapicc hated small spaces, and the fucking ringmaster must know, because all his matches were painfully claustrophobic.

To add insult to injury, he was crammed into an oppressive muzzle shaped like a dog jaw around his mouth. Mapicc felt like an animal more than ever before.

He was bleeding and trying to stem the flow of blood. There were just too many places the blood was flowing from—a cut above his eye, his gum, his arm, his right leg. Every spot was gushing, and Mapicc wasn’t sure he could stop all of them before he died of blood loss. It was sad for him but true.

Just as he was despairing, Mapicc felt a strange entity enter his field. It wasn’t malicious—his senses would be sent into turmoil as they often were. Instead, it was a creeping truth, a non-entity, an extension.

A stranger. A non-malicious magical stranger.

And then another hand pressed in on his leg so Mapicc could focus on his eye and lip, and another came and pressed his arm. Mapicc could feel his healing ease some under the decreased pressure, no longer working to stay alive and instead working to fix.

Mapicc was tired. He had been made to fight a worm with too many fucking teeth today. He was not ready to repay a life debt, but he needed to know who he owed. So he looked up—first at the guard, who wasn’t turned to him, not acknowledging him, then at the cage adjacent to him, only accessed by a tiny vent. It had been empty for as long as Mapicc could recall.

A pair of eyes blinked at him. They were grey-blue. No, white. Not. Mapicc couldn’t decide. And they looked happy? Worried? Empty?

Mapicc couldn’t tell, and that irked him.

He wasn’t actively bleeding out, so now he was tired, which was more annoying than bleeding. But he was in danger, hideous, unknowable danger, and still, he needed to keel over. He needed to.

The muzzle was uncomfortable, but it was impossible to remove, so he had to settle down with it in a way that he could still sleep. Mapicc couldn’t sleep. A stranger was watching him. But the weight of the world—the way it dragged him down—

Mapicc was a fighter. But sometimes, though loath to admit it, he lost.

o0O0o

Mapicc woke with some difficulty. Really, it wasn’t unreasonable. He was pretty sure he was supposed to die the night before. He was not meant to be here right now. But...

He was awake?

That was good. He needed to be alive. He needed to get to Jepex and Poafa. But how had he survived? He had taken so much damage. He couldn’t stem the bleeding. He—

“Oh, you’re awake.”

A voice from his side piped up, and Mapicc may or may not have overreacted, depending on your assessment of the situation. He felt he had not at all overreacted. But he was launched across the small space before he could begin to think.

Mapicc slammed against the back wall, and his entire body hurt.

“Oh well, that’s one way to wake up.”

The stranger spoke again, and Mapicc stared at him. He was sat behind the bars between their cells. Weird grey-white eyes stared at him.

Mapicc, knowing he wasn’t supposed to come off as sentient, to come off as the monster that the ring wanted him to be—to protect Jepex—he had to play the part. Mapicc growled, an animalistic, rumbling growl, and lowering himself down, he locked eyes with the guy in the adjacent cell.

Desperately, he scratched at his arm. If he could just get the stiffness off—Mapicc felt dry blood crack. It was gross, and then dried blood flooded his mouth.

Mapicc was frustrated. He rocked backwards and went to bash his face against the wall.

It was irritating. He knew he wouldn’t be able to remove the blood. And he had passed out. And what had happened? And the world was just fucking awful. Holy shit.

Soft hands threaded under his jaw, thin fingers wrapped around his face. The muzzle stayed on. Mapicc panicked because of course he would and swung his head around again.

"Yo! Yo! Chill!" the voice called, and Mapicc tried to calm down. He locked eyes again with the stranger.

"Fuck! I know you're sentient."

Mapicc slowed down some, but he was still growling and backing up.

"Chill out," he said, and finally, Mapicc calmed down. He didn't say anything, though.

They were stuck in a staring contest for a long time. Mapicc wouldn’t break the eye contact first. He was just... stuck.

The blood was crusted still on his face. It itched.

"Hi, I'm Ro—Roshambo," the stranger, Ro, introduced himself.

Mapicc stayed quiet.

"Well, this is..." He bit his lip.

Mapicc inspected him now, really inspected him, and well, he was strange. Mapicc knew where the hands came from at least. They floated around him, gentle and harmless, and Mapicc watched them as well.

It took Mapicc a long time of staring, a long time that Ro waited him out on. It was strange—so very strange.

"Mapicc," he introduced himself.

And Ro smiled.

"You have a little blood," he gestured using one of his disembodied hands.

Mapicc made a face at him, and he smiled sheepishly.

"I can get it?" he offered, and Mapicc shied away.

"Okay, just don’t slam your head. I don’t think you can lose any more blood."

o0O0o

That was the beginning of a rocky but not entirely unwanted relationship. They weren’t cellmates, but they were adjacent, and well, that was good enough for Mapicc.

Roshambo turned out to be a crowd-pleaser, a little showpiece they sent out but didn’t let die.

Mapicc was pretty sure that if it came down to it, he could take the strange entity in a fight. He was more for fancy plays, long drawn-out show fights, no death. Roshambo was not sent out to die, Mapicc learned quickly.

He was sent out to kill.

Mapicc knew what the ring wanted him for. Bloodbaths were his specialty. Twenty enemies against the odds, he always had to survive. It was awful. Mapicc was always tired, so fucking tired. He didn’t envy Ro, though. On the contrary, it seemed he had been stuck here for a while.

Ro was quiet—well, he was at first. Mapicc was quiet at first as well. It was just how they were. Always tired, always scared. But Mapicc would never know who spoke first, who gave the first olive branch.

But one day, he knew Roshambo had been trapped here for about eleven weeks. And Ro knew he was an accidental summon demon. And they both knew the other liked to be guarded while sleeping. And they learned the guards' shifts. And they asked if the other was okay when they came back. And Mapicc may have trusted Ro just a little. Just enough.

When he was out fighting a horde of men like pigs or pig-like men, claws dripping in dark red and wiping the dripping blood from his gums, he thought about Jepex and Poafa first, as he always did. But then he thought about Ro and the little cell beside him.

It wasn’t much, but Mapicc knew his undoing began right there and then, in that stupid ring.

When he returned to their little block at the back, where guards rarely ventured because Ro could wiggle a hand out and Mapicc hissed like a pissed cat, he still slumped against the wall, didn’t even acknowledge the other.

They stayed quiet like that. No questions of okayness, because it was obvious. No playful jab either, which was weirder.

Instead, he was asked after the silence stretched thin and Mapicc almost entered the world of the sleeping, "Why do you fight so hard?" It was asked softly, quietly, and Mapicc wasn’t sure he first heard it, but cracking an eye, he locked in with grey-white static.

Mapicc wasn’t sure Ro's eyes ever settled, always changing.

He blinked long and slow at the guy, wondering. Then he settled. "I need my sonder," he said simply. Then, considering, he added, "My sonder need me."

Ro still inspected, but Mapicc had nothing left. He had laid his cards out, the ones he cared about anyway, and now it was his turn to measure and see what he would make of them.

"You're family but not quite, so maybe more." He spoke cryptically, and Mapicc curled his lip at the idiot. Ro chuckled, but it was a sad laugh filled with history Mapicc wasn’t sure was really known by the man himself. "I can see it."

And Mapicc sighed heavily because come on.

Ro was sad, but he was tired, and well, one of them was more pressing than the other. Mapicc passed out and hoped their little deal would hold till he was well again.

o0O0o

So yeah, Mapicc maybe should have addressed the issue with Ro, whatever it was. Maybe he had just been stuck in the fight ring too long, but Ro was getting reckless. In fights, he was getting hurt more often. With guards, he was... getting hurt more often.

Mapicc had no idea how to help him.

He hissed at guards, spat, threw sparks like he was going to start a real fire. He would burn too. It would not be worth it.

The guards still hated Ro, though. He wasn’t there all the time. He must have mouthed off or done something they didn’t like because one day, he was thrown bodily into the cell. It was rather scary, really, the way Mapicc had no control, the way Ro just let it happen.

He lay at the back, and before Mapicc could begin yelling, yowling, hitting the walls, they were yelling themselves.

"Stay with the crazy demon. We won’t feed you."

He was stood at the bars, and Ro was not moving. Mapicc wasn’t sure he was breathing.

"If you don’t shape up, we’ll feed you to its friend."

He smiled cruelly, flicking his eyes to Mapicc, who started to hiss and flare and spark, but he was already walking away.

They were going to throw Ro in with Jepex. They were going to learn Jepex wasn’t able to kill anyone. Shit. Fuck.

Mapicc watched him retreat and, after hearing the heavy door swing shut, rushed to their small shared vent where they communicated.

"Dude, are you alive?" he asked, and slowly, the dead weight that was Ro rolled over. His hands, which had not been there around him as they usually were, materialised—white gloves cracking magical knuckles. His eyes were sad.

"Your friend won’t eat me," he said as if he knew, and yeah, Mapicc wasn’t a monster, but Jepex would probably eat him if he was hungry enough.

"No, but I don’t want them to know that. What happened?" he asked, and Ro laughed a little.

"Man..." he said, trailing off. Mapicc gave him time.

"I’m tired," he finally said, looking up, and Mapicc frowned. It made sense. It made too much sense. But there was something else, something he was missing.

"Do you have anything else?" Mapicc asked, and Ro blinked at him, and now the grey-white static was almost... wet. He was tired and sad and small, and Mapicc suddenly felt clumsy and not adequately equipped for this.

There was no answer, and that was enough. Mapicc sighed. He was not the best at feelings. He didn’t have them, or at least he liked to say he didn’t. Poafa would probably bop him if he said that in front of him, though.

"I’ll share food, but you can’t go down that chute. I—" Mapicc stared at the wreck on the floor and couldn’t find words that worked. None of them worked. He felt weird. It felt so weird. "Heal up," he ordered, voice hard, eyes set, and shoulders tight.

They were quiet for a few long seconds, then Ro laughed.

"You’re too sweet, Mapicc," he said, and Mapicc huffed but didn’t refuse. He was going soft.

For the next week, he split his meagre food with Ro. They ate at their little shared window, and though Mapicc never made eye contact, he could still feel the way one of Ro’s hands would briefly brush his, like a reassurance.

Things were not okay. They were dying. It had been over two weeks.

But well, Mapicc wasn’t sure he had a plan, but he had an ally.

o0O0o

Mapicc was desperate and burnt out and filled with adrenaline. This was a fantastic mix and had him rather desperately trying to pick his cell lock. Ro was trying to help, but his hands could only do so much, and without being able to see, Mapicc had to do most of the heavy lifting.

Or at least he did until a guard came through the door unexpectedly. They weren’t due. They hadn’t brought food regularly to Mapicc since they stopped feeding Ro. They weren’t supposed to be here, but the door was opening, and in a moment, they would be around to see Mapicc, and he wasn’t acting the part, and they would figure out his ploy, and shit.

Mapicc had doomed them.

But Ro didn’t let that happen. He heard it too, and unlike Mapicc, he could stop the guard. Summoning another hand in a shower of static magic, Ro’s unconnected appendage rushed off down the corridor, and a clattering of metal and a confused yell sounded.

Mapicc rushed away from where he had been frozen in fear. The hand helping him vanished, and Mapicc dropped in the back corner of his cage just as the guard came around.

"Was that you?" he asked Ro suspiciously, but the man had been splayed out on the ground and looked up, his eyes bleary, which was surprising since Mapicc knew he hadn’t slept in two days.

"Was what me?" he asked, voice sour but oblivious. He was a good liar. Mapicc would give him that—really nailed down the disdainful grimace.

"That bucket?" the guard asked, his voice filled with bitter distrust, but he was obviously being fooled as Ro looked at him, scrunched his nose, and laid back down. He had static hands propping up his head even as he rested.

Mapicc took that as his cue to start causing problems, jumping to his feet and yowling like a dying cat.

"Alright, alright, demon shit!" the guard yelled, and Mapicc took a little joy in knowing the slight tension in Ro’s shoulders was from a laugh.

He quickly left after that, didn’t even investigate the fucked lock as Mapicc continued to bang on the walls and yowl manically. It was at least a good stress relief. What he had been doing there was anyone’s guess.

"Thanks," Mapicc said, and Ro chuckled.

"No worries. It's not going to work though."

Mapicc knew. He had been trying since they got there, fiddling even with Ro's attempted help. Nothing worked. Whatever the locks were, they were strong.

He lay out on the floor, stared at the ceiling, bored and tired.

"Ro," he began, and he heard the shuffle of clothes as Ro must have moved.

"Yeah?" he answered, and Mapicc smiled. He liked being able to talk to someone. It was nice. Nice that Ro saw him as a thinking person at least.

"What are you?"

It had been bothering him for a while. Mapicc could usually guess based on auras, vibes, general distress levels upon seeing him—what other people were. Magic users, humans, fae, shifters. They were all neat and easy to catch. Maybe sometimes a fae would be harder or a human just a little off, but Mapicc could most of the time reliably categorise people.

Roshambo was an enigma. An armless, multi-handed, static monster.

Ro moved some more. Mapicc still didn’t look at him. See, his skin was paper white, and his hair both thick and thin. Everything about him seemed so painfully solid and so tragically wispy, like if Mapicc didn’t dig his claws in, he would be erased, and if Mapicc stopped existing, the universe would revolve around the showmanship of the not-quite-stranger in the cage across from him.

"Dude," he said, and Mapicc rolled over. The cadence, the way he emphasised it, sounded deliberate, like he was lost. And Mapicc wanted to see this.

Ro was always pretty sure of himself. At least, he picked fights he could not win for the entertainment of the crowd, and that was probably the reason he was still kicking. Him sounding unsure, even to Mapicc, was strange.

"I have no idea."

He was staring at the ceiling of his cell, a far-off look in his eye that Mapicc found two parts funny, one part worrying. Before he could ask though, Ro continued.

"I never met the person who made me." Weird wording. "But I'm obviously not fae."

Mapicc could agree. Though he was definitely weird, Ro did not have the otherworldly effect on people that most fae did.

"I have no connection to the void, the end. I'm not a demon."

He looked at Mapicc then. His eyes were grey static, then flashed solid white, solid grey. Then they switched, and for the first time, colour was shown. A washed-out not-quite-purple, not-quite-blue that bore into his soul.

"Mapicc, I am defined by what I am not," he told him sombrely, and Mapicc blinked a few times, perplexed.

"Dude, that was, like, super dramatic. Who do you think you are?" Mapicc asked, smiling at his cell buddy.

Ro looked up from the floor, and after making eye contact, grinned.

"Roshambo, best fighter in the entire ring."

Mapicc scoffed. "Sure, buddy."

o0O0o

The fight that day was rough. They took his muzzle off, and Mapicc was glad for the ability to bite because he was fighting seven prisoners in the ring. They were all cocky, angry men, and Mapicc took joy in taking them out, but he was still facing seven of them, even if he was better than them.

He was hurt badly. Stabbed through and beaten down. It was awful. But he won. He killed all of them. It was just rough. Mapicc came out at the end, and they didn’t even muzzle him, just dragged his battered, bloodied body to the cell and left him. Mapicc wondered if they wanted him to die. It felt that way.

He was hurt and scared and needed comfort. He wanted his sonder, his pack, and the cell bars were so close. He just needed to.

Mapicc dragged his body across the floor, cold stone aggravating his injuries, but it didn’t matter. He pushed himself all the way over to be at the bars, and in his haze, he could not call out.

Mapicc did not whimper nor whine, but Ro would never say if he did. The soft feeling of a hand running along his cheek was enough, and Mapicc slumped against the bars. He was harmed, pressed against another body. It was bad because bars presented a barrier, but some desired skin-on-skin contact was achieved. He was so fucking thankful for that at least.

"We're getting out of here," Ro said, and Mapicc, using all his strength, agreed.

"Yeah." His voice was scratchy and unsteady, but he was alive and therefore he was ready to rebel, to escape.

"You need to get your pack," he said, and Mapicc frowned. He had his eyes closed, not sure when that happened.

"I'm taking you too. You're mine now." He said it easily and was confused by the sharp inhale he got to his simple statement.

"How are we going to do it?" Ro asked, and Mapicc smiled. He was born ready. He was going to do this. He had to.

Now he had a plan. A shit, shaky plan that was liable to go wrong, but a plan.

o0O0o

Mapicc lay on the ground, shallowly breathing, wracked with shivers. His eyes were open, but he was not looking at the corridor. He was straining his ears. It was right about now the guards would come down.

They had left him without the fucking muzzle, so Mapicc was enjoying lying on his stomach for the short length of time he would be able to.

He heard the telltale slam of boots but didn't move. He needed to look dead. The bleeding had stopped, but there was enough blood on the floor and his clothes.

"I think it's dead," Ro told the guard, who grunted dismissively. Mapicc didn’t smile. The clink of keys as he rolled through them, the click of the lock. It was perfect.

He waited for the signal.

"He’s been there since you dumped him here," Ro said, and Mapicc turned. The deal had been the moment his hand had one of the keys, he would talk about Mapicc being dumped, and Mapicc could go crazy.

He did. Spinning with his mouth open, Mapicc dove on the guard, who didn’t have time to yell. He clamped his mouth over the throat and ripped it out with his too-sharp teeth. Animalistically, he wrenched his breathing tube out and shook it.

Blood sprayed, and the world went quiet for him. Mapicc spat out the metallic monstrosity.

"Good kill," Ro said, as if that wasn’t the first time he had seen Mapicc kill, as if this was normal. And yeah, in many ways, it was normal.

He left the bloodied smear on the floor and proceeded out of the cage, turning and unlocking Ro’s door.

"Hurry up," Mapicc ordered, and Ro rolled his eyes, but they started to go towards where Ro said solitary used to be.

They dashed past cages occupied by strangers. Some cheered them, some didn’t notice. The guards were also around, but none looked at them twice. There was an alarm blaring off somewhere, and Mapicc felt a deep dread. Something was happening.

"Hurry up," Ro echoed his words, and Mapicc huffed and rolled his eyes, but they were where they needed to be. Staring at a small cell that was more a chute in the wall.

"Moment of truth," Ro commented as he swung open the door.

At the bottom of the pit, Mapicc saw Jepex. His Jepex. Perfect, scrappy, dumbass Jepex.

"Dude!" he whisper-yelled, and in a split second, the smaller demon had rushed up a vertical wall and tackled Mapicc. Over they went, rolling before he stopped them, wrapping Jepex in his arms.

"I am so glad to see you." Jepex’s words tumbled out in a slur that Mapicc smiled and nodded along to.

"No time," Mapicc said as he pressed a chaste kiss to his temple, terrified that if he let go, Jepex would just vanish.

"Okay, but—" Jepex gestured, and Mapicc saw for the first time the other occupant of the cell, a tall creature with a dark, void-like complexion who was sizing up Ro as the demons reunited.

"This is our new packmate, Minute," Jepex introduced, and Minute stared.

Mapicc smiled. "Hi. Okay, so this is our other new packmate," he gestured to Roshambo.

"Roshambo," Ro said his name, and Jepex nodded, looking him over with unjudging eyes. The soft yellow was like coming home.

"Okay, we need to find—" Mapicc was about to say Poafa when the entire building was rattled by an explosion.

He got up off the floor in an instant and rushed to heave Jepex up. He reached and blindly grabbed Ro and just saw one of Ro’s hands grip Minute. They were moving before he could fully grasp what had happened. They were going to find their missing packmate.

Chapter Text

Poafa, compared to his sonder, was a docile soul. It was not in him to act manic like Jepex, nor aggressive like Mapicc. Instead, he was gentle. When first captured, unlike the other two, he went quietly. Now, he did egg Jepex on—he knew, as well as Mapicc, that he would not survive the ring. But where Mapicc showed his aggression in bared teeth, Poafa sat and did nothing.

He was ready to fight to survive, ready to be every part the monstrous demon he was born as. But he was taken, muzzled, away from Mapicc, from the clamouring fighting ring where Jepex was tossed away.

Poafa was taken to a higher place, a strange place with rows of... nice? Cells. Poafa was confused. They were more like display cases, two metres by three metres, with a bed and stylised insides. Trapped were a variety of humanoids and not quite—hybrids and fae, void and end, all in stylised, fake-looking cages. A perfect menagerie, a zoo of depravity.

And Poafa was taken to a cell as well, with fake netherwrack and dark walls. Poafa was confused as he walked in and was more confused as the door was slammed behind him. The cage was situated in a corridor with doors at either end and approximately four cells. The one beside him sat empty, and across from that was a cell that contained a storm spirit that was not sentient.

He sat down as he heard the door slam, as the guard left Poafa alone. He had no idea what to do, so he looked to the adjacent cell.

A set of pink eyes blinked back at him. Waves of brilliant blue hair and white rabbit ears, all twitching seemingly at random, took up a good chunk of his attention. His adjacent cellmate seemed too large and still too small for their display case, decorated like green hills with artificial grass.

"Hi!"

A chipper and utterly unexpected voice startled him. The girl was blinking at him excitedly.

"They haven't had anyone in that cell in a while. I'm guessing you're new here." She gestured at the cage, and Poafa felt trapped. Like a small bird. Like a specimen to be gawked at, to be examined.

He had been prepared to fight. He had not been ready for whatever this was—where he was a toy, a display thing. He was ready to die, not to live a half-life.

Poafa remembered, a long time ago now, walking through a market accompanied by Jepex and Mapicc. There, they had been normal—a trio of demons surrounded by nether-born. But now, he and his sonder were an oddity. Worthy of preserving. Worthy of locking up and gawping at.

Poafa was alone.

"Hey!"

The chipper voice broke through his spiral. It sounded worried.

"Hey, don't cry, it's okay!" They sounded worried. Poafa should assure them. He opened his mouth, but his throat locked up. Reaching a hand up, Poafa touched his cheek, only for it to come away wet.

He was a caged bird—one for nothing more than singing and dying. And what did he have left? Would his sonder survive this?

"It's okay."

The strange rabbit girl’s voice was remarkably soft. She had inched closer now, at the edge of her cage, looking through the bars with concerned eyes.

"No one is gonna hurt you."

She sounded bitter, as if this was not a good thing. Maybe it wasn't.

"You're part of the personal collection," she said.

Poafa was shocked and scared. But above all, he was angry.

Angry at the people who had taken him.

Taken him from his sonder, his pack, his Mapicc and Jepex. The people who were threatening some of them with death and him with a lifetime as a pretty display piece.

Poafa would not be a display piece.

He would not die here.

Standing with a sense of urgency, the tears still running down his cheeks, Poafa began searching for an escape. A vent, bent bars, anything he could use. As he rushed around his cell, the girl watched him, shouting helpful—or less helpful—tips.

"Be careful, the light's designed to zap," she said just as Poafa went to touch it. He ignored her and got zapped for his trouble. Coming down, defeated, he moved to the walls.

"The last inhabitant said there was a crack somewhere to your right," she said.

And true to her word, a long crack had formed. Nothing he could use, but a good visual.

"You're beginning to act like Mad Minute," she said.

Poafa glanced at her for a second, curious about the name, but he needed to escape more than he needed a story. She seemed to take his silence as permission to keep talking.

"This guy, no one knows what he is. Probably void," she pondered aloud.

Poafa wasn’t watching her, but he supposed she was sitting on her bed again.

"He keeps trying to break out. Rumour has it they're gonna feed him to the demon they chucked in solitary."

Well, shit. Hopefully, Jepex could beat a crazy guy.

Poafa was trying to move his bed.

"I never met him, but sounds like he's gotten the furthest on escaping this shit hole," she said matter-of-factly.

Poafa felt a curl of hate in his chest. He needed to get out. He didn't need to doubt his escape. They would get out.

Poafa's mad search ended with him collapsing on his bed, the strange rabbit girl watching him from hers.

"Alright, strange probably-a-demon," she said with a smile.

Poafa looked at her, eyes lidded with sleep.

"We'll talk tomorrow if you can."

Poafa remembered he hadn’t actually said anything to her yet.

He mulled it over for a second. The muzzle was big enough that he could possibly speak.

So, in a quiet voice, Poafa managed to say, "Talk tomorrow."

Then he promptly fell asleep.

o0O0o

Poafa spent the rest of the next day thoroughly cataloguing his enclosure.

The girl in the cell across from him was far more docile that day, which was strange. She still watched him, but only after the guards had walked by to deliver what must be breakfast and then what constituted dinner.

Finally, once he realised there was literally nothing else to do, Poafa sat down and locked eyes with the strange girl.

She smiled at him but didn’t say a word. Poafa was sure she could talk, but he couldn’t fully remember all of yesterday—the panic.

He couldn’t think about the panic because it was all-consuming.

Looking up and down the corridor to be sure no one was coming, he decided to try initiating a conversation, a novel and strange endeavour.

"Hi," Poafa said intelligently.

The rabbit girl perked up, her smile brightening.

"Hi!" she spoke back.

The slight twitch of her nose, the way she rocked forwards on her bed—whoever this stranger was, they were starved of conversation. Should Poafa use that? Was that a bad idea? Poafa had no idea what to do at the moment.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, hoping she would talk.

The rabbit frowned, her eyes drifting.

"A while," she spoke sadly, quietly.

Poafa didn’t wince. He just... panicked? How was he supposed to respond to that? ‘Oh, I’m sorry?’

Before he could put his foot in his mouth, the rabbit sat up from where she’d slouched.

"But I’m getting out," she spoke with a certainty that Poafa could not reflect. How was she so relaxed about this?

"Oh?" he prompted.

She stood up. It startled him some, but Poafa repressed any reaction as she began to pace.

"My brother, Clown," she said as if he should know the name. Was she insulting him? Maybe.

"He always comes and picks me up. We work for The Life Steal Guild," she explained, and Poafa just let her talk.

"Have for, like, forever."

She leant against the wall.

"He was away on a mission, and I guess some of his enemies thought it was a good idea."

Poafa stared at her. Enemies? Guilds? Was she part of a cult?

"Your brother's coming for you?" he asked.

And she smiled.

"He always does. Might take a while, but he always finds me."

Sounded creepy but comforting. Poafa hoped she was right—she sounded so sure of herself.

"But in the meantime," she spun around to face him, smile impossibly wider, eyes sharper, "I'm Kab. Kaboodle."

She waved lightly, and Poafa felt a strong wave of magic emanate off her. She was not quite anything he recognised—a shifter at a brief glance, but strangely human and strangely more.

"I—" he stuttered, unsure on custom but also knowing this was going to be his hopeful confidant. He couldn’t fuck this up.

"I'm Poafa," he introduced, and Kab nodded.

"I guess you're one of the demons?" she asked.

Poafa nodded. She squinted, still smiling but now shrewd.

"You don’t look it," she said, and Poafa scoffed.

A lot of non-Netherborn would say that. They did not know the Nether like he did.

Poafa was rare, but he was no less a demon.

"Gee, thanks," he said, voice dripping with disdain.

The girl's eyes widened.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she flapped her hands, standing and bouncing. Now she really resembled a bunny.

"I didn’t mean to offend you!" she squeaked, and Poafa felt a little vindicated.

Only a little.

"No," he relented after a few seconds of awkwardness. "Most people are confused." He gestured vaguely at himself. "I'm angelic, right?" She nodded. He smiled half-heartedly. "Demons, mythically, are fallen angels. We're the same species, I just show up more angelic."

It was an easy explanation, not the whole explanation, just enough to get her to relax and nod along with what he was saying.

"Oh, okay, yeah." Kab sounded a little confused still, but let herself have the confusion.

They lapsed into the dreaded silence. Awkwardness prevailed.

It was uncomfortable, and Poafa didn’t want to be uncomfortable, not with his only possible ally, delusional as she may be. So he decided to break the silence again. "Who was in here before me?" he asked. Simple, maybe a little dumb. Probably no one. But the way her eyes lit up then dimmed—he may not have picked the correct topic.

"Her name was Midmysticx," she spoke with a wistful edge, like reminiscing on an old friend, not a fellow captive. "She was a cat shifter or something." She shrugged, looking at Poafa. "They sold her."

The way Kab said it like it was normal sent a bolt of fear through Poafa. He didn’t show it, though. He was better than that. Kab shrugged all the same. "She'll get out, I know it. She was smarter than me." At least she was confident in her friend.

Poafa wasn’t sure if that was just part of her delusion, though.

"The guard is gonna come through any minute now, so go back to pretending," she said casually, and Poafa blinked. They must be really scheduled, or else Kab had a grasp on time like no other. Even now, he wasn’t sure how long he had been here.

Poafa went back to sniffing around, looking under the bed and anything, and like clockwork, the guards came through. He spared them a glance, a long, threatening blink where the burly woman just stared him down, and then he dismissed her. He could probably take her in a fight. It was fine.

o0O0o

Overall, the guards seemed remarkably surprised by Poafa's lack of reaction most of the time. He would sit and watch them when Kab warned him they were coming. Between, he would ask her questions, light things about where she was from, the city, what she liked to do, build, write, sing.

She would ask him questions too, like about his family. Poafa didn’t wax poetic about Mapicc and Jepex; he was just not that verbose, but he mentioned them, his sonder, with a smile. She seemed to understand.

The guards would speak to him, but Poafa would ignore them. He would ignore the nobles led down the corridor as well, though if they came too close, he gave a theatrical growl. They took Kab on occasion. The first time was terrifying.

She was just chilling, and a guard came down and just grabbed her. Kab went so willingly. Poafa didn’t yell after her, but it was close. He made the loudest screech he could muster and slammed against his cage doors, but no dice.

For hours, he threatened, paced, tried to break the lock. Anything. If he could just undo the screws, he could get his hand over the top. But they were dug into the walls. No matter how much he contorted, his nails, teeth, anything, he couldn’t get them, and Poafa was so scared, angry. He had lost his sonder; now he had lost his cell buddy. What was he going to do? Go crazy?

Jepex was relying on him and Mapicc. They had put him in an impossible-to-escape position under the promise that they would get him out. Now he was...

tired.

Kab came back. She was dragged down the corridor, quite literally. Her body was slumped. The guard was holding most of her weight. She was conscious, as told by the grunt of pain as she was tossed to the floor in her cell. The guard turned to Poafa, who hissed at them.

Fuck this. Fuck them. Fuck.

Kab didn’t begin to chatter again for a long few hours. She was just lying on the floor. Once the guard left, Poafa tried to catch her attention, but it was as if he were chasing smoke at this point, always a step behind.

His calls were left unanswered until he had slept and they both had recovered. Then Kab told him about the dinners, big, gaudy events run by the leader. They could be intimate, maybe one-on-one, or more stately. She was willing to say the most he had served was around one hundred.

Kab was a chatterbox, and once she had woken up from being catatonic, she was happy to complain about all the rich fucks the bastards at the top liked to rub shoulders with. She was happy to warn Poafa away from ever revealing his sentience because serving them while being threatened with death did not sound at all appealing.

Kab laughed at him as he said this and nodded along.

Then she steered the conversation to her brother, who she was still adamant was going to save her. She reassured Poafa she would get him to take the demon, and Poafa reminded her he had his sonder to save.

Kab didn’t seem perturbed, saying her brother was chill and good despite all the murder, and Poafa refrained from mentioning her 'despite' would usually be a disqualifying factor. Kab seemed so happy. Then she talked about her home city and the variety of hybrids in her guild and all the good they did. Poafa was reassured by her chatter, sunk back onto his uncomfortable bed, and listened.

They continued to wait. Poafa did as much exercise as his tiny space would let him. Kab showed him simple forms to go through as a sword-fighting warm-up. She claimed to be awful at really fighting, but she didn’t mind the warm-ups. Poafa was just bored.

He ended up running little games of noughts and crosses in the dust. Kab didn’t know the game, which was kind of funny, but after a round, she had figured it out and was having a grand old time beating Poafa.

They had spent days in here, and Poafa was going mad. He made the effort to push furniture that was solid stone around just so he could make himself a little more space. When a guard came by and commented on it, Kab told them he had been looking for something but had given up when he had moved the bed.

He learned Kab was awful at maths and tried to teach her multiplication and directional navigation and long division—really anything he could struggle through explaining to stave off the boredom. Kab sat and listened, but she didn’t seem to understand, and Poafa found that weirdly endearing.

Once the guards walked through and caught the remains of an equation in the dust, she peered down at it, then up at Poafa, who was draped over his bed like a cat. He blinked at her slowly, then opened his mouth to show off sharp teeth. A good gesture to say "fuck off" without saying a word.
She hurried off after that.

o0O0o

Kab had been taken again. She had gone quietly. She had told Poafa once, when neither of them could sleep because the lights were never turned off, that she went quietly because Mid used to go kicking and screaming, and now she's gone.

Poafa wanted to console her, but all he could muster was a gentle chittering. Kab seemed to like his more sonder-directed vocal ticks. He had been making them more and more often. Kab and Jepex would get along—they'd hate each other, fight like small children, but they would get along well.

He was thinking about introducing Kab to his sonder.

Poafa still reacted when she was taken. He still shrieked like a wild animal, still banged on the walls and paced his cage. They had taken his sonder; he had a right to be angry. He had a right to react to this.

He waited and waited and waited, what felt like hours, days—could’ve been minutes. He counted, then gave up, then counted again, moved his bed again, left it in the middle of his room, did jumping exercises, tried to break out of the cell again, and then gave up and had a nap.

Kab was dragged back, the guard muttering about curious bunnies and getting burned. Poafa growled at the big guy, not the woman, the big ugly guy, and he scarpered really quickly. He didn’t like demons or maybe he didn’t like Mapicc. Poafa silently thanked his sonder for the gift of easy intimidation factors. But after he left, Kab was not catatonic. She was actually pretty awake. She looked haunted though.

"Poafa," she called his name, voice soft and scared and a little uncaring. Poafa frowned over at her.

"Yeah, Kab, I'm here."

She laughed like some inside joke was made, then rolled over. Her eyes were red-rimmed; she had been crying. "That was awful," she told him, and Poafa, not knowing what to do else, trilled high and reassuring. "Tell me a story," she asked, and Poafa, happy to oblige, began to tell one.

"My sonder, when you meet them, they'll love you," he said it because it was true, and there was no world in which they weren’t reuniting as a group. "Jepex and Mapicc, they're maniacs," he explained, and Kab blinked slowly at him, gently watching him across the cell.

"They once tried to trick a vendor into selling the same sword to both of them and then made the vendor hold an entire death match to decide who got it." He was smiling now, softly reflecting. Kab was frowning at him.

"Of course, I was down to watch this play out," Poafa explained, and Kab settled in fully. It was a good story. Jepex had lit the tent on fire, Mapicc had stolen the sword, and Poafa had to drag them both into the forest to avoid getting caught.

Kab was asleep by the time his story was finished, but that was okay. The ending wasn’t the best; they had been caught and their sword stolen. Poafa and Mapicc had to haul Jepex out to avoid becoming breakfast for some rogue scoundrels. He wondered if Kab would have been helping haul him off or if she, too, would’ve gone after their hard-stolen win.

In any case, Poafa confessed quietly that though he loved his sonder, he always felt like an outsider. Something was always standing between him and his pack mates, and he just never could figure out what it was.

Kab, not as asleep as she appeared, or maybe she was, and it was a hallucination, or maybe his self-doubt was just so powerful it roused her. In any case, she opened one eye and looked at Poafa with the most unimpressed stare.

"Those two love you," she said like it was the simplest thing in the world. "They would do anything for you." She continued, and Poafa sat back, looking at the blue bunny as she settled down to sleep for real.

o0O0o

So the food here was awful, and Poafa meant awful. They seemed convinced he could eat nothing but meat—grey, squishy meat he had no idea of the origin of. He was pretty sure they didn’t cook it, which just ew. But Poafa knew he needed to eat, so often he would just close his eyes and chow down.

Opposite him, Kab was having a similar issue, if in another direction. See, Kab was a rabbit, so they assumed she was a herbivore. But from long-winded rants, Poafa learned Kab wasn’t even a natural-born shifter. She had magic blood and a curse and a whole history of accidents that resulted in her growing rabbit ears and yellow round eyes.

She was only fed veg—though flat, dry or wet, overcooked, uncooked, sometimes rotting veg. She hated it. She ate it. Both of them were willing to eat to survive because they knew their captors didn’t care, but they hated it. The storm spirit, tapped in a cage, was similarly missfed, though it never seemed to mind, probably didn’t notice. Poafa just didn’t pay enough attention for it to matter most of the time.

Poafa was sat staring at his meal of grey meat and rotting blood disdainfully. He had finished half of it, and tonight it had tasted particularly... bad.

When he heard the door open, Kab bolted up at the sound. This was not expected. Poafa was sat against the wall, he was not ready, but instead of a guard here to drag Kab away or a noble needing hissing at, the female guard was here. She stood in the doorway for a few seconds. Poafa leaned against his bars to watch her.

After hesitating for a few long moments, she strode down the corridor, her face set, her shoulders back. She walked with a purpose Poafa had only seen in sworn warriors. She stood in front of Poafa's cell, ignoring Kab altogether.

"You," she said, looking him in the eye. Poafa blinked at her, then bore his teeth in a threatening grin. She chuffed a laugh, and it didn’t sound... right. It sounded wet and inhuman?

Poafa narrowed his eyes, and she smiled back. Her teeth were sharp.

Out of her sleeve dropped a silver thing. He was not going to follow it; he needed to watch her. "My boss, he said he'll fire me today," she said it casually, but you could hear the bitter hate in her voice. "I ain’t sure you can talk," she breathed in, breaking eye contact, looking to Kab, who stayed silent. She turned back. "But you sure are smart. Too smart."

Poafa looked down. A screwdriver, metal and shiny, and the solution to his problem rolled along the floor. She kicked it to him.

"Fuck them up for me, will ya?" she asked, and then as if nothing had happened, she turned and walked away. Poafa turned to Kab, gobsmacked. He reached out and got his hands around the screwdriver.

"We—" she stared at it in wonder. "We’re getting out?!" Her voice rose in pitch and volume, and Poafa waved his hand, telling her to quiet down. Kab settled down as he set to work undoing the cage. He knew soon the guards would come through. Kab was bouncing her leg, looking at the door, but he just... Poafa removed the screws. He couldn’t have them be visible, but he had nowhere to hide them. Desperately, he yanked them out and shoved them in his trouser pockets.

Then he threw the screwdriver at Kab. Just as she caught it, the doors opened. The guard was coming through.

Poafa, in a fit of what must be madness, dashed around his cell, running in circles, making as much noise as he could so Kab had more chance to hide it.

The guard, the ugly one, came down the corridor. He was happily strolling, looking at Poafa like he had lost it. He drifted past the empty cell and the storm spirit, no worries, then to Kab, who he gave a single glance. Poafa saw she was laying down; must be on top of the screw. Then he turned to Poafa.

"Hey buddy," he said, his voice snide. Poafa hissed at him.

"Ah, don't be like that. You and I will be seeing a lot of each other." He seemed smug, probably got the other guard fired. Whatever, Poafa didn’t care.

"The sedative should be kicking in anyway. We'll have you in the main hall as bait. I heard demons fight twice as hard when their friends are on the line. We have some special guests, after all."

Poafa's blood froze. He didn’t show it, though—good actor. He hissed at the ugly guard with all the rage he could muster. The guard laughed in his face, obviously bemused rather than frightened, and wandered off. Poafa looked at Kab. He now knew why what he ate tasted so... wrong.

"Kab," he said, and Kaboodle shook her head.

"If we're gonna go, we've gotta go tonight," she said, voice calm and ready. Poafa looked at her, wide-eyed and scared.

"We're going to go tonight," she said again, and Poafa nodded. The door was unsecured. It was a matter of heaving the frame away and slipping through—no use of doors required. Kab smiled at him, undoing the screws with a twist of her wrist.

"Lean on me," Kaboodle told him as they came out. Poafa knew he would begin to feel ill or drowsy or whatever they wanted him to feel soon, but he was still a little offended.

Despite his offence, he still nodded, and they walked up the corridor. This was the first time Poafa was able to touch Kab, and it was weird to know someone so well and still just not know them.

"We have to let Stormy out," he said, gesturing to the cage, and Kab grinned evilly.

"Yes, we do." They made quick work of undoing the bolts around his cell door and squeezing the trap open in a rapid motion. The spirit dashed out, filling the space. The air crackled. Now they needed to get his sonder and get the fuck out.

Poafa picked a random direction, grasped Kab's hand, and began running.

They dashed through the facility, taking turns at random. At one point, a guard burst out of a side door, but he didn’t even notice them as he ran past. Poafa and Kab shared a look, but Poafa was seeing double, and that was not a good thing in the least.

He was leaning on Kab, who wasn’t the strongest, so their sprint was more of a jog now. Still, they came to another door and then another, and then...

They were in a dining room. Kab gasped, air rushing through her teeth. There were maybe four people in here, all looking alarmed. Out the window, you could see a pit—a fighting pit. Poafa's eyes focused on the dry blood on the sand. None of the people were looking.

Kab only had eyes for the silver man. His hair was grey, back to the roots. His shoulders were broad, but he was well-cut, if a little misshapen. He had a clipped ear.

"I'm going to kill him," Kab said, and it was... gleeful.

Poafa was confused for all of three seconds as she darted forwards and, in a clear arc, grabbed a table candle—one of the big, clunky ones—and brought it down on his skull. It made a dull thunk. His head caved in.

Poafa was delirious, but he was still about himself enough to bare his teeth when one of the other people turned to see the bloodied mess and Kab standing over it. She screamed, then looked at Poafa and screamed some more. It was funny to his delirious mind.

She bolted, as did the others in the room. Poafa made half-hearted attacks at them, but they all dodged. An alarm was going off somewhere far off. He wasn’t sure, and Poafa was getting sleepy and heavy, like his body was shutting down.

Kab bounced up to him, a happy murder bunny. "Okay, cloud nine!" she said, looking at him all worried. Poafa chuffed, trying to stop her from looking worried. "Let’s get you to your sonder," she said, worried, and Poafa trilled. Yes, sonder. He could have all his sonder back—Mapicc, Kab, and Jepex, his pack, his sonder.

They were going to love Kaboodle.

After that, Poafa didn’t remember much. He remembered being hauled down a corridor by Kab, and maybe a screech—monstrously loud—but he was so out of it. Kab seemed jumpy and pulled him in the other direction. Eventually, they met his sonder—Jepex, Mapicc, and two strangers who were... marked.

Poafa wasn’t sure, but that might just be his new sonder—six of them, a respectable size, a real pack. He was surprised. After that, he fully blacked out, but hopefully, it got better. Hopefully, they survived.

Chapter Text

The group of six stumble, struggle and eventually escape the treacherous holding, none of them truly remember all of their adventure after. They may talk about the screaming crowds, the fights that had seemed to get out of hand upstairs, the chaos that was caused by the storm spirit, the guards rioting against guards.

Mappic would swear there was a dragon.

But they left. Turned their backs on the whole rodial, Kab killed the guy in charge, what else were they meant to do? Free the other prisoners? They were shit scared of Mappic after all.

They went to the woods, a safe haven, a place of respite, a path to freedom—or so Kab hastily offered when no one knew where to go. She called, she said there was a city far off or not quite called Essempee, it was where she was from.

No one had a home to go to and they were stuck together now, though the non-demons didn’t fully understand that yet. Each demon had left a mark on their person and quickly Mappic was leaving marks of Minute and Kaboodle, though neither knew at the time.

Poafa had been out of it through their entire escape. He was passed from Kab to Minute, from Minute to Mappic, and eventually was positioned on Roshambo's back.

They crept through shadows and across rooftops, Mappic leading the way, his night eyesight the best. Kab had to lag at some places, her fur too bright to hide in the dark, but quickly they found she was light-footed on roofs and able to hide from the worst by being quiet.

Jepex was the most clumsy and why Minute had to pass off Poafa, as Jepex was struggling to stay both light-footed and unseen. He almost fell between buildings, caught by Mappic at the last second. He was dragged up. After that, a miracle—Minute picked him up and the bastard of a demon let him. He pouted, sure, but he let him. Mappic smiled and looked to Ro.

When they got to the woods, dawn was breaking. Glancing back, they could see a plume of smoke where the ring had been. It had been an epic building with high spires and a great domed roof. Mappic hissed in the dark, the feeling of victory on his tongue.

"We need to keep moving," Minute ordered, and Jepex huffed on his back. Minute hadn’t put him down even as they were entering the forest. He didn’t seem to struggle with the demon’s dead weight though. Jepex was as light as they came—Mappic hated his eating habits on the best of days and despite packing on muscle he was still scrawny as a rat.

They move deeper, Mappic still leading the way in the dark, Kab taking up the rear. She was talking softly in the darkness, reassuring as well as assuring she was still there. Mappic was looking for a place to sleep, to let Poafa rest, to let them all rest, but it was low land and cold and he knew if they stopped they would freeze.

Kab told him as long as he followed the place the moon rose he would be headed towards the city and so Mapicc was doggedly hunting. Safety, he had never known safety. But now he had a proper pack to take care of, people he needed to keep safe.

Strangers who were family according to his sonder. Strangers who were sonder to him now.

Mapicc took them halfway through the forest till the thick woodlands bordered a steep cliff. He felt like an ant on the map and still Mapicc felt too loud, too obvious. There were six of them now. Jepex had gotten off Minute's back, was up front with Mapicc, was holding Mapicc's hand.

The cliff offered what was the best shelter Mapicc could have hoped for. A cave cut into the cliff was neatly tucked away, the ground elevated but flat, a pile of dry leaves close by. Someone had been here before. However, Mapicc knew they could bunker down for the rest of the day and the night, recuperate.

He turned to the group and was surprised by their assorted new sonder. The blue bunny, the strange creature of the void, and Roshambo. They didn’t quite fit but to Mapicc they were family.

"Hi," he said awkwardly, and Jepex, the traitor, laughed at him, hissing, booming laughs like little demon hiccups. He turned to him but Mapicc couldn’t muster a glare, just a mild irritation that Jepex responded to with an aggressive headbutt. Mapicc, off guard, let it happen and then grumbled loudly for the entire group to hear.

"Hi," Minute said with an awkward nod once Jepex had backed off. Jepex chittered happily and trotted up to his new packmate to butt his head (far, far more gently) into his chest. Mapicc scoffed but let it happen, nodding to Kaboodle. She had introduced herself earlier.

"We setting up here then?" she asked, gesturing at the cave, and Mapicc nodded. Ro walked in carrying Poafa and began pushing together a nest. In a split second, Jepex was over helping him. They settled the unconscious, obviously drugged demon and then went about preparing for the night. There was no time for awkward introduction, no time for who or what of it. They were here now and needed to survive. Individually they were tied together. They could do this together.

They had a fire and what really constituted a nest set up. The amount of forest matter was limited but they could make it work. Kab was sat with Poafa's head in her lap. Jepex had his legs in his, and Minute was leant against Jepex, the edge of Poafa's leg also in his lap.

Mapicc was flitting around getting a fire going and Ro was following, helping where he could. Mostly by being as close to Mapicc as the demon would allow. He was stressed, he had been through a lot, but Ro seemed to get that too.
Once he had set up a fire, the day was in full swing, but they would need a good fire going. Mapicc finally relaxed. That may be because Ro was beginning to flag a lot and was slowing down, but that was Mapicc's business.

Once settled, Mapicc looked at everyone. The silence hung. No one was sure how to start conversation. Kab, with her lap full of Poafa, seemed the least likely to speak up. She didn’t have her connection to the group awake, she should be lost, but the bunny-not-quite-magic thing seemed strangely relaxed. She smiled.

"You guys do not look how I thought you would." She said it with a chipper attitude and no one was sure how to respond. Minute blinked a few times, facing away from her, but he eventually craned his head around to stare at the bunny. He blinked.

"Who are you?" he asked, looking at Kab with pure confusion. "I know you from... something. Not the ring." He pursed his lips, confused. Kab looked him over, a frown dipping her face, but quickly it lightened into a smile.

"You're the crazy guy who kept trying to escape!" She ignored his question entirely, flapping her hands and smiling like a manic.

The guy blinked a few times and then slowly shrugged.

"Dude, you’re like a celebrity," Kab rambled, leaning back in her chair and smiling at the ceiling of the cave. She was careful not to jostle Poafa. "I honestly thought they fed you to..." she looked at Jepex, who was awkwardly looking into the fire, lips pursed.

"That makes sense," she said with a smile. Mapicc chuffed, a sound he wasn’t quite used to making any more. Jepex snapped up to look at him, wide-eyed, then smiling.

"Dogpile?" he asked, and the three newbies frowned and glanced to one another. Jepex suddenly gripped Minute and Mapicc pulled Ro down and they ended up in a heap wrapped around Kab and Poafa.

They were warm, tired, and outside Mapicc could hear rain start. They had picked the right spot. They could rest. They could recoup. No one from that fucking fighting ring was taking any of them ever again.

Quietly, in the warmth and comfort of sonder, Mapicc relaxed. Really relaxed, for the first time.

o0O0o

Poafa woke up the next morning after everyone just about slept through the night. He was bleary-eyed and looked a little shell-shocked, but he was awake. Mapicc almost immediately went to fussing over his hair, which had grown long, and his hands, which were raw with scars from picking at stone walls.

It was Poafa, Jepex was just as back, face pressed into his skin, his collarbone, his chest, anything. The rest of the sonder were also close. Kab kept behind Poafa, basically wrapped around his spine.

The morning was quiet. Ro insisted on going hunting, so they stayed put for the time being. Better safe than sorry, after all.

Mapicc stressed about him not being there but knew they all needed to eat. Minute had also taken it upon himself to collect firewood so they could cook whatever Ro caught. It was nice, gave them some privacy, which Mapicc was glad for.

Poafa was still woozy but smiled at them all dopily.

So Jepex had to ruin the sweet moment. "How many sonder members do we have?" It sounded like a joke. It was definitely a joke. Poafa, though, smiled at him sweet and saccharine. "Sonder." He said it like it was the most perfect word in the world, like it was all he could think about, like it was home to him.

Mapicc chuffed a laugh and pressed his face into Poafa's collarbone.

Ro returned with food and Kab needed to get up and stretch. Poafa was unsteady on his feet but able to help in skinning the deer he caught. Mapicc was impressed, but Ro seemed a little upset, commenting on the deer being small.

Minute returned and helped cook the meat. They all ate for the first time in ages—real meat, good food. Mapicc was glad. He had been hungry for so long, it was like a balm on his burning soul.

They needed to head out. The land of Essempee awaited them. Freedom, protection, safety and opportunity—too good to be true, but Mapicc had spent his life chaining good things and it led him to Poafa and Jepex and then it led him to Ro, so maybe it was all worth it.

o0O0o

They had to leave. After eating and resting and preparing, they had to keep moving. Away from the city, away from their captivity. Mapicc was scared. So was Ro. Minute seemed happy, but he could also be angry—it was hard to tell with Minute.

Jepex was Jepex. He rushed ahead, looped back, screeched when he inevitably tripped. Kab was keeping pace with him and Poafa was watching them both with a fond, exasperated expression.
They had eaten and were in high spirits. All were on the lookout for shelter and food, of course. They had nothing but the clothes they wore and a poorly fashioned water canteen that Minute had created from a hollowed-out log.

They were happy enough. Freedom was sweet, after all.

They hit a river, to their collective thankfulness, as that meant they were heading towards something. Rivers led to mountains and civilisation, and Minute was happy to explain fishing to a confused Jepex. They walked the river as the sun set and, just as Mapicc was getting anxious, a cave appeared. Not the Ebs—this one dug into the ground—but it was dry, clearly the banks hadn’t broken for some time.

Once again they set up a fire and bedding. No use freezing to death, after all.

Jepex had offered to go hunting and Ro had also headed out, though he doubted any good prey. Mapicc was also planning on a trip—he was best at open field hunting. Rabbits were some of his best targets. But before he could make an attempt he heard a shriek and a splash.

He rushed out only to find Jepex brandishing a massive fish above his head. Kab was on the bank staring at him wide-eyed. He was sopping wet from head to toe.

"I caught more!" he told Mapicc, who saw a small pile. It seemed they would be good on food, but after that they had to bundle Jepex up and force him to dry off. Mapicc sighed, but Poafa seemed immensely amused and Kab was just relaxing.

Ro, upon returning with a single pigeon, was also glad for his efforts, though Jepex may have received a scolding from every member of the sonder now.

He seemed smug despite it all.

The fish was good that night, and the sonder, though new and tender and scared, were able to lean against one another. Poafa asked around a mouthful of scaled protein what everyone was. They all knew what the demon were, it was obvious, but he eyed Minute and Ro with curiosity.

The two shared a look, Minute shrugging, Ro looking like a deer caught at the end of a hunter’s barrel.

"So basically, I'm void?" Minute said, though it came off as a question. He shook it off quickly though, biting his lip and sighing. "I'm not a watcher, just void. We kinda cross somewhere..." He sighed, looked at the ground and then glanced up, smiling.

Minute turned to Ro and so did the rest of the group, apart from Mapicc, who snorted a laugh. Ro shot him a sharp look with no heat—it was funny. The rest of the group frowned in confusion.

"No idea," Ro said with a huff, and it seemed to clear it up. Kab, who was by the fire, rolled over to stare at him for a solid few moments.

"No, you’re an animation." She said it with such confidence everyone looked at her now.

"A what?" Poafa asked. He knew Kab the best and he knew almost nothing about her. Kab smiled.

"Someone wanted to make you a real boy." She rolled over, and Ro stared. His eyes were wide, his face blank.

"What?" This time Mapicc was asking because she could not just drop that bomb and leave them all hanging, but it seemed that was exactly Kaboodle’s style. She just grinned at him from the ground and in a quick movement rolled so her head was in Poafa’s lap.

"Night!" she said and began to snore obnoxiously.

Later they would get answers. Right now Jepex was just about dry and everyone wanted to sleep.

o0O0o

They wandered for several more days, hunting together, sleeping in piles, hiding in caves or abandoned buildings. On one night they had to sleep under the stars. Minute was grateful it hadn’t rained.

It was all going well, or at least he hoped it was. Minute felt like it was. He liked freedom. He liked the sonder that Jepex had dragged him into. He liked the forest and the sky and the feeling of eating food you had caught.

He liked it all really. Loved it all.

So why was he about 20 metres up a tree engaging in an almost ridiculous yelling match with Mapicc of all people? Mapicc, who he had definitely seen eat a worm one time before Poafa made him spit it out. Mapicc, who when Jepex threw himself at him would immediately and without fail engage in the fight—okay so Minute did that too shut up.

Mapicc, who was telling him being 20 metres up a tree with no feasible way down and no hunting prospect was reckless and dangerous. And yes, if Jepex was up the tree he would 100% agree with Mapicc. But Minute was a skilled fighter, he was efficient, he was a survivor. He could live up this tree the rest of his life and not slip. What was Mapicc on about?

"You’ll break your neck!" he called, voice shrill with concern but softened by laughter. It was clear he was scared. For how hard he acted, Minute liked that he was worried for him. It was...

"I'll be fine!" Minute yelled back, hooking one leg over the branch he had been straddling so he was now sat staring down at Mapicc from the tall tree. Mapicc made a face at him and Minute laughed. "I can get down whenever I want," which was a little bit of a lie. Minute could probably figure out a path down, but right now he was a little stuck. Not telling Mapicc though.

"Get down, what if you fall!" Mapicc was stressed and Minute had no idea what to do because he hadn’t known the demon for long and didn’t know if this was normal behaviour. He sighed. May as well find a way down after all.

He began to search, putting a hand up to grip onto a branch over his head when he heard a clear creak and crack from a branch. He looked up, then down, but nothing was wrong with where he was sat. A dull thunk caused him to cast his eyes down.

Mapicc was stood panicked over a lump of white and tattered clothes.

"Ro!" Mapicc yelled, shocked by the sudden appearance, forgetting Minute for the time. Minute quickly found a path and descended the tree just so he could check on his hurt packmate.

He was worried—what if he was hurt? He didn’t know enough about Roshambo to know if he was durable. He would assume he wasn’t, but—

"I'm okay! I'm okay," Roshambo was insisting as a frazzled Mapicc fluttered around, his face drawn in worry and arms out. Mapicc looked at Minute, who looked back passively. He had no fucking idea either.

"Why were you up there?" he asked instead, desperately reaching for reasons to alleviate his confusion. Ro blinked at him, his uninjured miraculous state confusing to all.

"I thought it looked fun," Ro answered with a shrug.

o0O0o

So Poafa was trying to teach Jepex how to pluck and cook a pigeon. Or well, he was to begin with.

Mapicc had gotten lucky on a hunt. The bird had been minding its business aimlessly and he had pounced before it even knew he was there. Lovely clean quick kill. Now they had a pigeon on their hands and Jepex had offered to eat it raw, but Poafa wasn’t having that.

He was trying to teach the boisterous member of his sonder the art of cooking your food before eating it, but everyone else seemed to have opinions about the way he was going about this.

Minute was arguing the way he was plucking the bird was removing the top layer of skin, which made no sense, and Mapicc was arguing something about cooking the bird before plucking it, which again Poafa had no idea what he wanted.

Ro was egging them both on, seemingly not caring who was right but who he needed to support to cause chaos, and Jepex was whipped up in their little frenzy.

Poafa was trying to teach Jepex how to cook pigeon, but it seemed he was more occupied by whatever the hell they were fighting about. He shared a commiserating glance with Kab, who just smiled conspiratorially. Poafa was immediately on her wavelength because really, when overlooked, you could do a lot.

Together they rapidly plucked and skewered the pigeon. It was good meat, after all. They had enough food to feed everyone, but together Poafa and Kaboodle alone cooked the pigeon. The argument between Minute and Mapicc was at a fever pitch when Poafa butted in.

"Guys, we cooked it!" Kab held up the perfectly bronzed bird.

"It's really good!" she cheered, and the rest of the group were just shocked enough for the argument to be dropped and forgotten.

They all ate the pigeon though, and it was good. That night they slept in a bundle, and Poafa was wrapped around Jepex, who had Kab tucked under his chin.

o0O0o

They had been travelling as a pack for a little over a week, always together, never too far apart, never leaving a trace. They were headed to Essempee. They did not want to be caught.

No one thought they were being tracked. No one until—

In a cave under jagged cliffs, the river snaked around the foot of the colossal. They had a fire going, small and unnoticed in the vast wilderness. All thought they were safe and then...

Minute sat up, eyes wide. Everyone else followed him. The void thing (his own description was so vague) was usually able to mask sudden changes, always relaxed or else smug, stoic but kind, and now he was deathly still.

"What's wrong?" Kab asked. Jepex was draped half across his lap, staring up at Minute with confusion in his eyes.

"There's a..." he struggled for words. Everyone gave him time, though Mapicc looked impatient. Minute sighed. "Disturbance."

"In the force?" Jepex snorted and Minute frowned down at him.

"No, in the forest," he said, and Jepex groaned. Everyone else frowned at his warning. Mapicc stood up and poked his head out the cave as if that would work. Ro poked the fire anxiously. Kab laid back in the loose moss and dry leaves they were using as bedding and closed her eyes. Silence prevailed for a few moments, then the magic user sat up. Poafa started at her sudden ascent—he was sat beside her and almost bonked heads as she went.

"Ah, sorry," she apologised to the demon, who shrugged her off and waved his hand, telling her to elaborate on whatever she wanted to say.

"Yeah, so, the change." She stared at the ground. Mapicc had returned from his spot in the entrance, obviously seeing nothing. Poafa smiled at him, but he just grimaced back and sat down so his legs were in Ro's lap and his head was on Minute's other knee. Jepex had taken his rightful place.

"It's not bad," she shrugged, and Minute pulled a face at her and she smiled. "It's end magic. You're void—of course you're not going to like it."

Minute huffed. "Okay, but what is it?" he asked, exasperated.

"Could be a forest spirit," Ro piped up, moving Mapicc's legs around aimlessly. Kab frowned at him and he shrugged. "I met a witch once with a thing connected to the forest, never really understood what was going on with those two." He stared at the fire contemplatively.

"Maybe," Kab said eventually. Everyone else was either side-eyeing or getting comfortable. The initial scare had been shaken off. They would keep their eyes peeled but otherwise they would just keep going.

And so they settled down for the night. Everything seemed okay—not perfect, but okay. Minute, though somewhat soothed, did not sleep. He had a lapful of demon, but he did not rest himself. Slowly the sonder passed out one by one, curled around one another and the fire. They were ready for the night, but Minute was not.

Hours drifted by and he sat awake, vigilant by the fire. Minute didn't really need sleep—or so he insisted. Maybe he did. Maybe this was bad for him, but no one in the sonder knew the tells of a void creature exhausted. Or at least Kab might, but she didn't know him well enough, so Minute was safe.

He sat and he watched the entrance to the cave. At some point during the night it began to rain—a soft drizzle that slowly grew in intensity until it crescendoed into a deafening thunder. Still Minute sat in the dark and the dying fire. He chucked on a few more logs, careful not to disturb Mapicc or Jepex. No matter what Kab said, something was off. Something.

Out of the darkness a silhouette loomed, dark and jagged, humanoid but not—billowing even as the rain drove down just outside. Minute froze for near a second. A second could be the space between life and death. Minute prepared for the worst.

The figure approached, hulking and pitch black. Minute rushed to stand, careful not to back Mapicc or Jepex's heads, but he jostled them awake as he stood. Minute took several strides to put himself between his pack and the stranger—the thing in the dark.

"Where is my sister?" the thing? man? masked man-thing asked, voice low, barely heard over the rain. Honeyed and deadly like a sharpened blade balanced. Minute didn't know who he was, who his sister was, so he asked his own question.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice deadly but unsteady. Minute was just glad he was loud enough to be heard. When under heavy stress he knew he was one to go silent, not make a sound.

The stranger in the doorway looked him up and down slowly. He didn't clock the rest of the sonder, though Minute knew Mapicc was waking everyone up. He could feel Jepex preparing to fight. He hoped Jepex would just run—no need for him to endanger himself.

Before the figure could answer his question, a second stranger silhouette stepped out the dark. This one was lighter, dressed in a white short sleeve, not made for the weather, and dripping. White curls. The most noticeable detail to Minute were the wings—big black and purple dragon wings.

Minute stepped back, truly unnerved. A natural enemy of the void, dragons were rare and magically gifted. If his enemy was allied with a dragon, Minute didn't stand a chance. He was just about to yell at the sonder to run, he would fight them off as long as he could—but without warning, a thump of feet, and Kaboodle was flying across the room, barrelling into the stranger who gave half a step before strangely wrapping its arms around the smaller bunny and sinking down onto their knees.

Gripping one another, everyone stared in shock.

Kab pulled away so she could lean her head back and grin upside down at them. The scary clown guy—because that mask was supposed to look like a clown—pulled her back real quick. Kab went willingly and leant into him, muffled by fabric she explained:

"This is Clown, my brother."

Everyone went silent, glancing at one another. Brother? He had mentioned a brother maybe? In passing. Only Poafa seemed to understand and he asked what was really the most baffling question.

"He's real?" The confusion in his voice was truly funny and Jepex, who was tired and a little shit, began laughing. Minute was frozen, stood between the sonder and the stranger—Kab's brother—confused.

Eventually, the siblings separated and Clown looked over their little group—or at least that's what it looked like; the mask made tracking his face impossible. But after he evaluated their group, he nodded, and the dragon stepped up.

"Kab," he said in an official voice, still a steady tone, and Minute wasn't convinced either of them were related. "This is my partner, Branzy," he gestured to the dragon, who waved slightly. Kab blinked.

"Oh, okay!" she said after buffering. "Hi!" Her voice rose in pitch and excitement. Most of the group winced at the volume, but it was fine. Branzy just smiled awkwardly.

"Hi," his voice at least was soft but confused, maybe overwhelmed. Minute wasn't sure he liked him—dragon and all—but he was at least less terrifying than Clown.

Kab sat up more and glanced at her companions. "This is my pack, sonder, whatever," she waved around at them all. Minute stood, Mapicc crouched beside Jepex, Poafa staring up blearily with Roshambo pressed close to him.

Clown nodded slowly. "You have a pack now." He said it with no intonation, no indication of his emotion towards this. However, Kaboodle laughed at him.

"They're your pack too, dumbass. My family, your family," she waved around some more. She was more a flapping bird than a 'shit-together' woman, but that was how Kab rolled. "We have Minute." Minute nodded, his hands relaxed but still tensely stood.

"Mapicc and Jepex." Mapicc sat up more, and Jepex slumped back down onto the ground, obviously sleep was defeating him. "Roshambo." The nothing-or-something man waved awkwardly. "And of course, Poafa, who saved me." She smiled, and Poafa smiled as well.

Clown stood. It was as if he were blinking uncomprehendingly, though the mask hid it. He strode up to Poafa, grabbed him by the shoulders, and looked him hopefully dead in the eye. "Thank you," he said, voice low and calm. The demon blinked.

"It was nothing. She had to carry my unconscious ass out," he said in a slur, scared of what was going to happen. Clown held eye contact for a little longer, then nodded.

"Thank you still," he said and stepped back, looking at his sister once more. "And where are we headed?" he asked, and Kab smiled.

"Road trip! We're going to Essempee." She was so happy. Everyone exchanged glances. Branzy stood back and was smiling warmly at the entire show.

Clown looked again over the group.

"Yeah, you'll be joining LifeSteal," he said with a warmth no one knew what to do with.

"They're mine now; they can do what they want," Kab said, and Clown nodded.

"That-a girl."

Whatever was happening, wherever they went, this pack, this sonder, would face it together. Whatever the darkness brought, they would see the light again.