Chapter Text
It was nice here. It smelled fresh and green. Lush and pure. Every plant was beautiful, even the ones at the end of their lives or the ones that had barely started their own.
The water was cool to the touch, but not cold enough to make the surrounding temperature drop.
It was a swamp, by definition. A wetland dominated by shrubs and trees. But it was the most beautiful swamp Nebula had ever seen. The water wasn’t murky unless a fish stirred the resting sediment at the bottom.
In her time with the Astrals, Nebula had known many planets and scenes that were covered with flora... but not quite like this. Weeping trees and blossomed branches shaded her from the two orbital stars in this system, but left enough light to illuminate everything perfectly. It was bright, but with enough shade to avoid the intensity of the light. If Nebula had any critique, it would be that there weren’t any fairies to float about. It felt as though it was the perfect place for such a thing as a fairy fountain.
Every once in a while, a cloud was swoop overhead, blocking out some of the light momentarily. But when it passed and the light returned, somehow everything looked more stunning than it had been before.
Nebula’s boat—a small wooden rowboat—held steady, though still rocked peacefully with the ripples of the water.
She’d stopped rowing several minutes ago, happy to sketch the surrounding life. A floating clump of Lilypads and their flowers... the overhanging, wisteria like buds and petals... a fish or small amphibian she spotted here and there. Every ten minutes or so, Nebula moved on to a different part of the place. She didn’t have a real name for this planet, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d found herself calling it Demergat Petala. Drowning Petals. Something poetic, but it reminded her that if she fell in, she could very well die if she found herself stuck.
Nebula brushed her hair out of her face and slipped the lock behind her ear. It was beyond relaxing here. She might miss people, like Titan or Terra, but she did enjoy her quiet time. She leaned down to her paper, which shimmered as the light danced on it. She didn’t know what the paper was made of, just that it wasn’t wood. It looked almost like a petal itself, the way it glittered, though it acted like paper. Draw a line, erase, draw again, adjust it.
Nebula Leaned over the side of the boat for a moment, and it sank slightly into the water as the weight in it shifted. She looked down at into the water, trying to see some of the vegetation. It swirled at the bottom like ribbons in the wind. Small, yet colorful, creatures—similar to fish on Earth, but far more flashy and extravagant, swam and flitted in miniscule schools.
It was temptingly beautiful, and as Nebula outstretched a hand to touch the water, her pencil fell. Nebula jerked to catch it, but her shoulders sank in disappointment when she saw it dip into the water and sink to the bottom. She wasn’t entirely sure how deep it was. She knew water could reflect light a certain way and make places look shallow, when they were in fact several feet deep, she’d rather not risk going after it.
Nebula sighed and sat back into the boat. She had spare utensils, of course, but she had been rather fond of that pencil. It had a certain thin lead she liked. It made for cleaner, neater, more precise drawings, and it didn’t smear when she flipped pages over it.
Nebula felt around in her satchel until her fingers grasped around the thin form of another pencil. She looked mournfully at the water before bringing the second pencil out, but had a double-take as she saw her original pencil lying on the railing of the boat.
“What...?” Nebula murmured, confused as she reached out to take it. As she shifted the boat’s weight again, the pencil began to roll, and Nebula lunged to catch it in alarm. This time, it didn’t slip through her fingers and she grasped it tightly. She didn’t mid the water that sprang and hit her face from the splash.
Nebula looked over the side of the boat, confused. Who had put it there? What’s more, the boat had drifted several feet from the place she’d dropped her pencil. She hadn’tspied any sentient beings, from what she could recall.
Then again, I’m not sure I would know what to look for.
When Nebula didn’t see anything, her curiosity got the better of her and she pulled a pen from her bag and dropped it into the water. It wasn’t a particularly nice pen, covered in indentations and nearly out of ink, so Nebula was certain she wouldn’t miss it if she didn’t see it again.
Nebula sat back and began writing in the margins of her sketchbook.
Pencil dropped. Pencil returned mysteriously. Dropped another item purposely. Item returned by ______.
She left it blank and kept watch in her peripheral vision.
After a minute, the tip of the pencil came up beside the boat and was gracefully scooted onto the side railing. Whatever put it there was sure to keep itself hidden.
Quickly, Nebula tried to look over the edge, and the pen tipped and fell back into the boat. As she stared, the only thing she spotted was a vine. After a moment, the vine slithered away and under the water.
“Hello?” Nebula called. “Can you come out? I would like to see you.” She wasn’t sure how else to word it.
She certainly hadn’t expected a response when the branches above her shook. Petals rained down onto her, and Nebula stared into the trees, assuming there was some kind of animal.
“Hello? I won’t hurt you; I promise.” She insisted, still looking around.
Then the world whispered among itself. It was quiet, like little kids trying to keep a secret. She couldn’t tell what it was, but she looked around more.
It wasn’t until a vine stretched down like a tentacle that Nebula understood.
“You’re the trees.” She realized as two more vines joined the first. Well, maybe not the tress—but certainly some kind of plant in them. The boat stopped, and Nebula could see at the front that other vines had halted her.
“You’re?” The trees replied, voices small as whisps. “You’re us?”
“Um, no. You’re you. I’m me. I am not you.”
“Us you? You is you? I is you’re?”
Nebula was lost. But it seemed the forest was interconnected. It was not just several species; it was one hivemind organism that expanded great depths.
“I am Nebula.” She offered. One of the first lessons she’d learned when she became a messenger: an introduction can make or break who they see you as. “Who are you?”
“Us You’re. The word for us, yes?”
What? Word for us? What does that mean? She wondered, running through the conversation. The trees are you’re?
Wait. The first thing I said. "You’re the trees”. Does it think “You’re, the trees”? Maybe You’re = Trees?
“I don’t mean as a name.” Nebula tried. “Who are you? You tell me?”
“You say You’re. I am You’re.”
You’re it is, I suppose. Nebula put the name in the blank she’d left.
Item returned by Yor.
“Hello, Yor.”
“Greet, welcome. Help? You come for sanctuary?” It seemed to know many words in English, just not how to string them together.
Sanctuary? Is that what this place was? But Nebula hadn’t seen any animals.
“No, I don’t need sanctuary.”
“You are floral. Rare flower. Foral stay safe—sanctuary.”
Nebula gave a laugh that made her chest ache. Her next breaths came out as a forced wheeze. She didn’t think the environment here was as good for her as she’d thought. There were other elements aside from the oxygen in the air here; she’d probably been here long enough to take in some of them.
She shook her head. “No, I am not a flower.”
“You are. Have not seen you before. Person-flower?”
“I—...I’m not sure how to take that.” Was it a compliment? Was it calling her pretty? Or had it just not seen a person before?
No, it knows language. It had to learn from somewhere, and as far as I could tell, there weren't any sentient races here.
“Flower, you are.”
“I’m not a flower, but thank you. I don’t know where I came from, but I’m a person.” Nebula assured Yor.
Yor remained quiet for several moments, its tendrils twisting and exploring the air around Nebula. One tendril wrapped around Nebula’s hand, then flowed up her arm and to her shoulder. It held her arm up, and Nebula let it. Yor was harmless to the harmless.
The tendril let off a cool glow before unwinding and releasing her.
“Ill? You are sick. Nebula a flower, but not flower?” It asked, confusedly putting a vine to her forehead.
Assuming she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this, Nebula shrugged softly. “If you want to think of me as a flower, you can.” She didn’t see what harm it could do.
***
When Nebula returned home, Titan was there, floating in a relaxed position.
“Oh, hey, Nebs.” He greeted her, opening one eye lazily. “Soooo...? How was your day? Where were you?” A couch appeared underneath Nebula and she fell into it. Titan didn’t sit beside her, but he did hover in the air around her.
Nebula recovered from the slight shock of falling into the couch, then looked up at him. “It was good. I went to one of those worlds you recommended. It was beautiful.”
“Oh yeah? Which one?”
“The flora wetlands.” Nebula replied. “It was strange. I wasn’t aware that the trees were alive.”
Titan chuckled and flipped upside down to her eye-level. “Well, not sure if you knew, but generally, trees are alive more than dead. Especially in the forest.” She didn’tusually mind or think about the glitches and hops in his voice, though it sounded off-putting after having talked a while with such a wispy voice like Yor’s.
Nebula did giggle in response, though that annoying ache in her chest returned momentarily. “The trees equaled one sentient being. It is the caretaker of that planet,” She explained more in depth. “We had a small barrier in language upon meeting, though it quickly learned after talking for about an hour. I may go back sometime.” Nebula crossed her legs and adjusted her dress, wiping a few remnants of dirt from it. Titan noticed and snapped his fingers, and a new dress appeared on Nebula.
It contradicted her usual outfit, though had the same basis. The corset was a tighter, bright magenta and it made her cough as it pushed the air from her lungs. Her dress was black now, opposed to the navy she preferred. Her sleeves and top were now a dark, deep plum. As for her cloak, it was suddenly on a hanger that floated several yards away.
“Oh, my bad.” Titan amended as Nebula coughed, and the corset loosened. “Do you like it? I mean, I’m no designer, but I thought those colors would suit you.” A mirror appeared, large and with a rim of dark, thorny wires.
“Thank you.” Nebula said, though it was about the corset loosening. She looked at herself in the reflection. The outfit was a bit much in terms of her complexion, and the pinks clashed with her lavender skin. But she didn’t mind the black so much, though it was a bit... lifeless. “I do like it.” It was a partial truth. She liked certain aspects of it. It didn’t completely pass by her that it matched Titan’s own outfit of choice. She did prefer to be her own individual, but it didn’t seem harmful to show her appreciation for him. Something in her head reminded her that she had a lot to thank him for. It was the least she could do to wear an outfit once in a while (but she’d be sure to change later, assuming he’d leave again soon).
“Fantastic!” Titan clapped a single, loud time. “Anyways, continue about your day.”
Her day? Oh! That’s right. Where was she?
“Oh, yes. The trees were a collective being I called Yor-”
“That’s a pretty strange name.”
‘Well, yes—we had a momentary language barrier. It misunderstood a sentence and believed I’d given it the name. It seemed quite attached to it after it made the connection, so I began calling it Yor.” Nebula reminded him. “But we talked for about an hour. I believe it thought I was a new flower to the sanctuary. It may have thought there was some disease on the “flower” it thought I was. I couldn’t get across to it that I was not, but I did not see the harm in letting it believe I was a flower, so that is what I allowed it to call me. “Nebula Flower” is a bit strange, though I did not mind it.”
Titan laughed. “Really? A plant thought it knew more about you than you did? That’s stupid.”
Nebula felt bad about Titan calling Yor stupid, but tried to brush it off. “As I said, there was a language barrier. I’m sure it was just trying to comprehend the unusual circumstances.”
“Still.” Titan scoffed. “I don’t see much of a point. But I guess you do whatever you want.”
Nebula wasn’t sure what to say, but it didn’t take too long for Titan to announce he was leaving again. There was a dimension he needed to warn about the Star, and it would take some convincing. Though, he didn’t believe he’d be gone for more than a day.
Nebula went to her separate room. She and Titan shared one when he actually slept here. Most of the time, however he spent overnights wherever he did his work. Not all dimensions knew about the multiverse, so he said he tried to give off a sense of normalcy, depending on what that was for each dimension. And sometimes that meant not disappearing randomly.
With a sigh, Nebula set her satchel on her bed and turned to her dresser. She was quick to take off the outfit Titan had given her, though it took several attempts before she could hook her fingers into the laced up back. After undressing, Nebula let the dress fall to the floor. Something just felt wrong about wearing it, though she wasn’t sure what it was. It was like a thick grime that settled in her lungs... like it wasn’t meant to be like this. She thought she felt fine— completely normal and as happy as she’d ever been since her rescue. Something pricked at the back of her mind, but all Nebula could do was suppress and ignore it.
Nebula opened her wardrobe and retrieved her nightgown, a silky, pale thing. It reminded her of old paintings, with its loose, free-flowing form and puffed out sleeves. It was such a drastic change from the uncomfortable outfit she’d just been wearing.
She lifted it over her head and slipped it on, content. After hanging up the uncomfortable dress, Nebula pulled her computer from where she kept it underneath her nightstand. It was fully charged and running, thankfully.
She took a sip of water from a bottle she’d placed in her bag. Then Nebula sat on her bed and began to type, deciding to add Yor to her current story.
***
Nebula shot awake, a tight feeling in her chest. Something felt like thorns and fire, yanking her from whatever pleasant dream she couldn’t remember.
Nebula inhaled, feeling an achingly similar sensation to when you held your breath too long. Something fluttered against the back of her throat, throwing her into a coughing fit. It felt heavy in her chest as Nebula hacked.
She pulled her legs close to stabilize her form better as she leaned over herself and wheezed. She began to panic, the feeling of a lack of oxygen seizing her as her breathing deepened, the coughing intensifying along with it.
With a violent, heaving, painful sound, Nebule spat up the blockage into her hands, on her nightgown, and on her sheets.
She inhaled deeply, finally able to breathe without obstruction. Air flooded into her throat and down her lungs, cooling the burning slightly. It still stung—it was as if she’dswallowed a tortilla chip and it lodged in her esophagus.
Nebula felt dizzy from the fit; she closed her eyes momentarily and inhaled a coppery smell.
When Nebula dared lift her eyes from the safe darkness, she reeled backward into her pillows.
Dark spatters lined her surroundings. She turned on her lamp, bringing color into the red mess. What had done this? What was wrong with her?
She didn’t want to think about that—she needed to clean up the scene. Nebula pulled herself off the bed and began pulling the pillows from their places.
As she began to yank on the sheets, Nebula spied an odd looking, tube-like chunk. She didn’t remember eating anything quite shaped like this... carnal abomination.
It was like a thin champagne glass, though it couldn’t have been longer than a couple of centimeters.
Nebula didn’t want to pick up the mess, but she would much rather sleep on a clean bed and deal with this in the morning, when she could tell Titan.
Carefully, she started with that first piece she’d seen and picked it up between two fingers. Aside from the spit and blood that coated it, Nebula noted the texture. It was malleable... soft...
Nebula slowly gathered the many other pieces into her hand, grimacing with both disgust and a faint burn in her chest when she breathed.
After a moment of staring at the hollow bits, something struck a familiar note with Nebula. She briskly made her way out of her bedroom and to the bathroom. She tripped and stumbled around her nightgown, but made it there quickly. Immediately, Nebula turned on the faucet and ran her hands underneath the running water.
She watched as pinkish swirls rushed and whirled down the drain, rinsing the residue from her palms. Bright orange or yellow, shimmering pieces were left. A cold fear gripped Nebula’s heart as she began to identify the different parts.
Stamen, soft orange and yellow petals that had tubelike overhangs.
Undoubtedly... flowers.