Inbox for ryslig

[charmpagne]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** Sparkling has joined 018.07.154.55 <Sparkling>Hello there! You have reached the inbox of Sparkling Cookie. Unfortunately, I am currently unavailable, but if you leave a message I'll make sure to get back to you real soon!

Comments

[humblecowboy]

[Spike grins just a little, turning back around and heading deeper into the apartment as if it is his own. Oddly enough, it seems like a vine is... trailing out of his shirt?? And wrapped around his leg.]

He's picking up the party supplies.

[He turns his head to look at Sparkling over his shoulder, though, head tilted up, preening.]

I look like a couple of prosexuals got to me with glitter and makeup brush, but I appreciate the sentiment.

[He's not... entirely wrong, though the green on his face only looks shimmery as a result of light refraction at the moment as his skin slowly turns to something more full of chlorophyll.]

[charmpagne]

[There's a moment where Sparkling's nose wrinkles, because he clearly has no idea what the fuck Spike is talking about, but that's easily brushed aside when he notices the vine growing from him. Okay, that's...immediately pointing to a very specific type of monster in particular, coupled with the green that's begun to appear. It's if and when Spike's hair turns to leaves that he'll really feel those familiar pangs, though.

He moves back into the room, finding a chair to sit back down in since it seems like Spike (and presumably Vicious) are here to stay.]

Well, I only wish I'd known. I would have cleaned up a little around here.

[The apartment is...near immaculate, so that's probably laughable for him to say. It's not as it should be in Sparkling's opinion though, some of the tasks he usually does having fallen to the wayside due to his changes disrupting things.]

Um...can I get you anything? A drink?

[Well, he'll just own it. Settle into what he's used to, instead of dwelling on...everything else.]

[humblecowboy]

You work even on your days off, huh?


[Spike invites himself to Sparkling's couch, his hair bouncing as he flops down— no leaves to speak of, but it does look like he was rolling around in grass...

He gestures for Sparkling to join him, protesting;]

Vicious is bringing the drinks. Take the night off for once, why don't ya.

[charmpagne]

[Sparkling can't truly flush since he's dead, but he still feels that brief wash of embarrassment when Spike points out what he's doing. He'd argue it's less working and more just being a good host, but...fine. He'll concede, making his way over to sit with his arms resting carefully in his lap.]

Well...if you insist.

[...god. It's uncomfortably quiet in the apartment. Usually he'd have the radio or TV turned on, but if Spike chances a glance around, he'll realize that not only are both off, but they've been unplugged entirely from the wall.]

I ahh...I hope you've been doing well. It feels like the only time I get a chance to see you is during work.

[humblecowboy]

[Spike does notice— it doesn't surprise him, though. A cookie can't be made for that kind of butchery. It's why he's here, anyway.]

That's true. I'm not—

[Somehow, Spike seems... Awkward, for a moment, gesturing vaguely to the air when he says—]

I don't really... Hang out. Outside of work.

This is a special case.

[charmpagne]

[This is a special case. If Sparkling was wondering about this before, well...he isn't now.

He glances away, looking at the floor between his shoes for a moment.]

I see. Well...special or no, it's not unwanted. I wasn't planning on leaving my place for the night anyway.

[humblecowboy]

Yeah. I figured.

[He doesn't know what it's like to be a cookie, and there's no part of him that considers Sparkling a child.

But he's not from the same world Spike is from. It makes sense to Spike that it would be much harder for a cookie to digest, and... well, at least his own method of feeding had been much cleaner.

Nevertheless, Spike still rubs the veins between his fingers.]

Rough day, huh?

[charmpagne]

[Sparkling gives a sort of noncommital sound of acknowledgement at first, folding his good hand over his knee. The other continues to rest half curled in his lap as he idly taps the other two claws together, huffing under his breath.]

Well, I was having a just fine day...until some folks decided we needed to be treated to a special broadcast.

[humblecowboy]

Mmm. Yeah.

You didn't watch it though, did you?

[Spike leans back again, feeling around in his jacket pocket— jackets, ugh, he's never had to wear actually warm jackets so much before coming here, gross— for something, and adds;]

I didn't think you would.

[charmpagne]

...I did.

[Then, before Spike can interject:]

Not all of it. I stopped watching when...Mukuro appeared.

[He brings his knees together before leaning back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling.]

Perhaps I should have avoided it entirely.

[humblecowboy]

Well.

[Spike pulls out a pack of cigarettes, offering;]

You smoke in here? I can open a window.

You look like you need it.

[. . . A change of subject? But why so quick? It's not like he's going to lay down an uncomfortable truth or something—]

[charmpagne]

[Why so quick indeed?

...does Sparkling mind it, though? Heeell no.

He hardly hesitates, reaching for and taking one of the cigarettes from the pack.]

By all means.

[humblecowboy]

Cool.

[He puts a cigarette in his own mouth, puts the pack away, and moves to light Sparkling Cookie's. When the other leans closer for the light, Spike starts;]

Y'know, we don't have to talk about this all night, but...

There's a high likelihood you're gonna have to see more stuff like that. The killing, the... cruelty of mankind, the—

[Spike twists his wrist in a vague gesture.]

Supernatural gang war?

[charmpagne]

[Sparkling is patient, waiting for his cig to be lit before he leans back, remembering the way JW showed him to smoke. And since he doesn't have to breathe and knows what to expect, this time, he's able to just...take a drag and potentially hold it infinitely. He's not going to do that, because he's pretty sure that might be detrimental to his body even if he could handle it, but he does just hold the smoke in his lungs for the entire time Spike is talking before he exhales heavily, holding the cigarette carefully between the claws of his good hand.]

Mm. I figured as much.

[Even those not involved are roped into it by proxy. By existing.]

I'm not sure what I was thinking, really. This world is one where we are expected to kill people, regularly. It...it's not like this should be that unusual.

[Now he knows the situation is different, it was shocking and it was intended to be that way, but...maybe he'd started to hope that things wouldn't be as bad as they seemed. That, maybe, if he was careful...he could avoid the worst of what this world had to offer.]

[humblecowboy]

Don't beat yourself up.

You didn't know what you were getting into.

Hell of a crash course, I imagine, but. You didn't know.

[He lights his own cigarette, taking a drag like a pro, and relaxing with the breath.]

You've gotta learn, but you didn't know.

[charmpagne]

[Sparkling gives a slight shrug at that, smiling sidelong at Spike.]

Now I know.

[And that's all he says for a moment, taking another drag.

Then, apropos of nothing:]

My world is in the midst of a crisis. Have I ever told you that?

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[The front door swings open suddenly, revealing a frazzled and frowny Vicious who floats over the threshold with a case of beer under each arm. One might question how he was able to get the door open with his arms that full, but the door closing behind him just as abruptly should answer that question pretty quick. Looks like these little meditation classes with Maya are really paying off. He still has to sacrifice some tangibility to stay solid in other places, but it's an easy enough price to pay when you don't necessarily need your feet.]

Sorry to barge in. I would've knocked, but--

[He shrugs, indicating the cases, before drifting over to the kitchen to set them down. Once he does, the shade begins to do revert back into a more tangible form, the cloud of billowing darkness below his knees re-solidifies into the proper shape of his legs.]

Christ, quiet as a wake in here.

[humblecowboy]

Jesus, I didn't think you were bringing the whole corner-store with you. I mighta gone with.

[He claps Sparkling's shoulder, sticking his cigarette back in his mouth and walking over to assist Vicious.]

And anyway, Sparkling was telling me a story. I was being a quiet and attentive listener.

[He bounces his brows as if to say, and you interrupted.]

[charmpagne]

[As Spike claps his shoulder, Sparkling watches some of the ash from the end of his own cigarette drop off and land on his pants, making him think that he should probably invest in an ashtray if he's going to keep doing this. He sighs, exhaling smoke as he ashes the rest of it on a bit of newspaper he'd left on the table.]

I was starting to think Cowboy was pulling my leg about you bringing anything.

[It's a light tease, because if Sparkling has learned anything, it's that these two operate in tandem more often than not.]

Make yourself comfortable. I'll continue once you have, if you're also interested in hearing.

[That was maybe his opportunity to take it back and just gloss over it, but...he feels like it's something they should know, especially with the direction the conversation HAD been headed.]

[goodolfashionedvillain]

Were you? Well, pardon my interruption.

[It's taken a little over a month, but it does look like V and "Cowboy" have finally re-attached themselves at the hip. If they aren't already somewhere together, the other one is either nearby or on his way, and there's a pretty good chance it will stay like that for the foreseeable future. That's the way it's always been, and if Vicious has anything to say about it, that's the way it will always be.

As he works to open the case, Vicious passes a flat look over his shoulder towards "Cowboy," as if to say "Really? He's still calling you that?" and gathers three bottles to hand two of them over to his partner, one to take to Sparkling.]

Of course, I love Storytime with Sparkling.

[The rest of the drinks go in the fridge, and he's popping the cap off of his with a quick swipe off the edge of the counter and heading back into the living area, settling on the couch across from their host with a pleasant smile, happy to see him even if Sparkling looks a little harried, himself.]

[charmpagne]

[Sparkling takes his beer (has he HAD beer yet? honestly probably actually) but doesn't open it just yet, choosing to finish his cigarette first. He imagines he's going to burn through it while he talks anyway, so it's not like it's going anywhere. He's glad for both vices, seeing how it feels more like he has a proper audience now, even if it's two people he considers to be his good friends at this point.

He takes another drag, slow and purposeful, and holds it for a handful of seconds before exhaling through his fangs.]

As I was telling Cowboy...my world is in the middle of a crisis.

[That's a fun way to start a story.]

For a long while, things were peaceful enough. The Kingdom is bordered by thick forests full of various monsters that only Cookies equipped for combat will venture into, but never have they actually broken into the city proper. But the Kingdom that I live in is actually quite new.

[It sounds a lot like a fairytale he's launching into, until you remember that being a sentient cookie means that this is all very real, for Sparkling. So whatever outlandish things he talks about here...have actually happened.]

A very long time ago, the Witches attempted to create life. They were successful, but their purposes were not benevolent. They began devouring their creations, leaving only a few to manage to escape. The dough leftover that had remain unbaked lay in the sun, forming the world that my home exists on: Earthbread. And the cookies that escaped chose to form the first Cookie Kingdom. They were five Cookies that we call Ancient Cookies, because they contained within them a substance known as "Souljam", granting them eternal life.

The kingdom flourished peacefully for many years, until the day the kingdom was waylaid by a seige. Dark Enchantress Cookie, she called herself, sought to destroy everything in an attempt to create a new world order that would allow the cake monsters that flourished from the darkest remnants of the Witches' bakery to thrive. The Ancient Cookies, unable to stop her, perished along with Dark Enchantress herself, the kingdom laid to ruin in the process.

Fast forward to my time, and you have Gingerbrave, Strawberry, Wizard...and all of the other cookies who escaped from the oven next, who chose to start their own, new kingdom for Cookies far and wide to live in. It wasn't long before it grew despite the danger that lurked all across Earthbread as we learned to defend ourselves. We became adventurers capable of expanding the land and warding off threats, enough to carve out a relatively peaceful living.

[Sparkling pulls his cigarette from his mouth, looking at the dimly glowing end.]

But...there are Cookies who aren't satisfied with peace. Some that are obsessed with power, or some that have known absolutely nothing but war. They saw to it that Dark Enchantress was reawakened, and work underneath her to try to resume the work she'd started with the original Kingdom.

It's history repeating itself all over again. The monster attacks get worse by the day, and we've just recently been attacked by dragons on top of everything. There are Cookies coming out of the woodwork to help us, but...

[He shakes his head.]

I don't know what's going to happen. There's...little I can personally do. I'm a healer, I don't...fight, like the others do. So...sure, I haven't seen the same sort of gruesome displays that this world is capable of back home, but I certainly have seen enough cruelty to know that they're not always so...different.

[humblecowboy]

[Well, this is a lot.

Throughout Sparkling's story, Spike gets busy on opening those beers, shuffling around Vicious in a trained dance. They're both able to get things ready without getting in each other's way— and communicate wordlessly while they do. Every time Sparkling says something in particular that Spike doesn't understand, his eyes meet Vicious's, and at times he frowns— not in a sad or angry way, but with his brows raised clearly enough to say dude, I dunno either.

At least the only confusing details are things like souljam and the names of cookies and— and Earthbread, as a concept. But war and things coming out of nowhere to invade your home, those are realities that exist even across the solar system. It reminds him of Titan, a planet still fighting for its own liberation.

As Sparkling's story draws to a close, though, Spike takes a look between himself and Vicious once more and offers Sparkling's freshly opened beer back to him, noting;]

Well... that's a lot.

Guess cookies and humans really aren't as different as I thought.

cw: drug use

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[Halfway through the story, Vicious realizes... he is far too sober for this story. He begins searching his pockets for the weed he scored from Phil, taking to quietly smash-grinding the buds in the bag as Sparkling regales them with this tale. Once he gets to the rolling stage, he settles back against the couch cushions again, keeping his focus on his host.

Outside of the occasional glances traded between himself and his partner, he's nodding and making mental notes of some of these new terms, committing them to memory for later questions. He isn't sure what brought this conversation on before he arrived, but figures he'll probably gain a little clarity on the context soon enough.]

No kidding.

[Vicious sighs, crossing one leg over the other before lifting the joint to his mouth to lick and seal the edge, handing it over to Spike and beginning another roll.]

There's infinite universes out there, and the insatiable lust for power manages to corrupt every single one. Shame.

[He shakes his head, the corners of his mouth turning down in a sour frown.]

[charmpagne]

[It takes a moment for it to hit Sparkling, just how quiet it is now that he’s stopped talking. It’s not like Spike and Vicious left him in deliberate silence or anything, but…that was more of a novel than an anecdote. He grimaces, smudging out the last of his cigarette on the newspaper so his claws are free to accept the beer in exchange.]

…I’m sorry, that. That was a lot of information.

[And it’s more than he’s talked in one go for some time. It was almost rambling, his thoughts buzzing too hard in his head for him to temper it.]

It’s just…I’m not entirely unfamiliar with supernatural gang wars, as Cowboy put it. The one happening here is just far beyond my understanding.

[He takes a swig of beer (making a mental note of the taste, it’s….it sure is beer), before continuing.]

Probably beyond anything I want to understand.

[humblecowboy]

[Spike accepts the rolled joint, looking at Vicious starting on another and raising his brows in surprise, then does this weird little frown-smile as if to say for me? You shouldn't have.

And, with no context for knowing Sparkling has smoked with JW before, he slides over on the couch to sit closer to him and lights that joint with the intent to shotgun Sparkling.

He can't resist commenting, almost as thoughtlessly callous as Vicious when he says—]

What's there to understand?

The strong dangle power in front of the weak; the weak do whatever it takes to get it and get out of the shit situations they're in.

I'm sure that's true even in a world like yours.

[And with that he starts to light the roll Vicious made for him, getting the tip ready for sharing.]