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“Bad, please be careful we don’t need anyone else hurt.”
Glancing up, Dream turned and saw Bad carefully walking along the top of the fence. He smiled childishly, then hopped down. “Sorry. Trying to have some fun.” He said, smiling at Dream and George.
Expression softening, Dream smiled back at him. “I know. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Bad settled down next to them and shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket. Hopefully they could pick something up in the way of clothes at the gas station. Bad’s hoodie was covered in dirt, there were a couple threads and one of the sleeves was missing because he had used it to help fix one of Tommy’s shirts. The kids were the most important ones, they needed to be prioritized, so when they had the chance to wash clothes they put Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, and Purpled at the front and then went for some of the injured ones. Sapnap, Jack, and Ant currently. Also Dream.
He was still limping a bit from his leg injury. The doctors at the way station had told him that he would be alright, but he needed to be careful. For Dream, that meant working with a cane. Sometimes it got in the way, but hey…he could always smack people with it if he needed to without feeling bad about it.
I’m turning into an anime character, he thought with a roll of his eyes. Continuing to walk along, he glanced around. They certainly looked like they were in the middle of nowhere. Sloping golden hills in the distance, thick and wild grass growing up to their hips in pale tones. A broken wooden fence to their side. Dirt path under their feet where the road had been worn away and destroyed by creatures not originally from their world. Bad wrapped his jacket around himself a little bit more when the wind kicked up. “Cold?” Dream asked, looking over at him.
Smiling again, Bad shrugged. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. It’s like what happened with Jack and Sap. You know how they just can’t get the right temperature half the time?”
Scoffing, George rolled his eyes, head tipping to the side slightly. “Tell me about it. I swear, those two are turning into blazes or something.” Bad and Dream exchanged a glance. Paused in the middle of the road. Up ahead, George froze. Turned to look at them, hands landing on his hips. “What? I was joking.”
Dream looked at him. Some of the clothes they’d found certainly looked like something Minecraft in tone. George’s blue sneakers had been replaced by actual combat boots. Almost every single person’s shoes had changed to combat boots, black or dark brown for the most part. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo had grabbed some paints and started customizing theirs with the colors they had—and the others’ as well. Still, George had changed. Dark brown combat boots, blue jeans with pieces of actual leather armor strapped to them. He had an armored brown jacket that some cosplayers had originally made for a Han Solo cosplay wrapped around his shoulders, over his usual blue t-shirt. The shirt was stained and torn in a couple areas. He had bandages around his fingers because they hadn’t been able to find him some gloves yet.
Bad was wearing a black hoodie, also with cosplayer-made armor underneath. Who knew that cosplayers’ skills could apply to real life? (That was sarcastic. Dream didn’t defend his fans for nothing. They were a talented community, the whole cosplayer community generally was.) Heavy-duty black cargo pants had replaced both his and Dream’s old jeans. Black combat boots. Bad’s shirt was an old red thing they had found in one of the Emergency Centers made from a defunct Goodwill.
Dream had gone for his old green hoodies. Black combat boots. Black cargo pants, like he’d mentioned. Instead of his clunky white smiley mask he’d gotten, though, he’d replaced it with a sleeker wood thing he had sort of…found somewhere. It was painted wood, he thought. No eye holes but he could see through it? Somehow. He wasn’t really sure how, he wasn’t even sure where he found it, he just had. Like Patches.
Speaking of Patches…she had run off. Where, he wasn’t sure. She had just disappeared overnight, although he was sure she was just fine wherever she was. She’d lived on the streets before he got her, she could survive without him however spoiled she’d become. It happened before, she would be fine.
Shifting, Dream focused back on George. Against the golden-brown grass around them, the light brown dirt and gray remainders of the road, and the bright blue of the sky behind him dotted with puffy white clouds, he looked unfairly pretty. Tipping his head to the side, Dream smiled at him. Wait, he asked a question. Blinking, Dream shook his head. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”
Sighing, George pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Jack and Sapnap are not turning into blazes. ”
Glancing over at Bad, Dream hummed. Glanced back. “I don’t know, George. Those looked a lot like blaze rods to me, you know?” Groaning, George looked away, rolled his eyes again.
“Plus, George…” Bad said, touching his fingertips together with a soft expression, “There are dragons in this world. And acid-spitting snakes. And, like…monsters.” He kept talking, gesturing a little bit. “I would—I just wouldn’t be shocked if it came down to it and—and there’s more going on. You know?”
“Look.” George turned back to them, arms crossed protectively over himself. Raising his eyebrows, he said, “If there’s—if a fucking mooshroom walks out of those plants right now ,” he dramatically pointed to the tall grass to their right while Bad mumbled about language, “then I’ll believe you. Okay?”
There was a low moo, and George’s face blanched. When they looked over, though, there wasn’t a mooshroom. Just a normal dark brown cow with a gray muzzle and white splotches. “Pfft. Guess we got a cow.” Dream commented. There was a bit more rustling, and a little light brown calf with white splotches tumbled out of the plants. “Aw. Hi, there.” Crouching down, he held out a hand. The little calf immediately jumped up slightly, head shaking to the side slightly. Big brown eyes looked at his, and the calf butted its head into his chest. Laughing, Dream fell back onto his heels.
That was when he saw something on the calf’s back. Gasping, he turned to George. “Oh, George.” He said. Immediately, George stared at him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No .” George walked over with Bad.
“Awwww…” Bad reached over and rubbed the calf’s ears. Sure enough, there were little mushrooms growing out of its back and shoulders. George dropped his head into his hands, until the mother cow nudged him in the shoulder and knocked him down.
There were more mushrooms on the mother. Guess there really are mooshrooms now. Dream thought, huffing lightly to himself. Then, something caught in the corner of his eye. Darker clouds, a deep charcoal gray tone against the normal white. Somewhere in the distance, there was a rumbling noise. The mooshroom cow raised her head, snorted softly. Turning, she shoved her baby in the flank, and they hurried off into the plants, tails swishing.
“Smoke.” Dream whispered, looking over at Bad and George. Bad’s expression dropped from joy at the little calf to pure horror.
“That’s where the station is. Come on!” He started sprinting off.
All George and Dream could do was try to keep up.
+++
When they got there, it was clear that the station had been abandoned for some time.
Looking around, Dream swallowed. Looked around himself. “Bad?” He called out. Immediately, Bad peered out from one of the aisles.
“No one’s been here. For a while, from the look of it.” He explained. “I think it’s safe to say we can fill our backpacks with what we can.” Nodding, George and Dream set out.
“Did you find the source of the smoke?” Bad nodded. Ducking into one of the chip aisles, Dream frowned as something flashed on the floor. Crouching down, he got a closer look. There was a shiny, jet-black scale. Sitting in a pool of something sort of dark brown. Reaching forwards, Dream picked it up, squinted at it. The scale itself was about the size of Dream’s fist. Whatever it had been sitting it was cool and sticky. Maybe some kind of syrup, Dream hoped. But he put the scale back down, wiped his pants off. “What was it?” He asked Bad.
“It was just some random trash can out back. I don’t know why. It smelled awful, though, so I don’t suggest going out there.” Bad explained. Nodding, Dream crossed over to the fridges and reached in. Grabbed some water bottles and Gatorade and Powerade. He knew that the milks were bad, they’d have to find some powdered milk for Ant. Sure, he was catlike, and cats were generally lactose intolerant. But then Ant’s body had been stripping itself of calcium while he was sick, and milk was an easy way to get that. So, powdered milk it was.
And in the meantime, the Powerade, Gatorade, and waters would also be used. Powerade and Gatorade to help the sick people get some electrolytes and sugars and salt back, water to wash out wounds, keep people hydrated, and keep things from being too infected. Get the engine back up and running if things went wrong in a desert. Breakdown water for the kids and anyone who needed it.
In the reflection of the glass, Dream froze when he saw something shift behind the counter at the front of the store.
Licking his lips, Dream whistled a short, three-note tone. A chickadee whistle. Tommy and Ranboo had laughed that it sounded like “Cheeseburger”. That wasn’t the important part, though. What was important was that Bad and George heard it. Both replied, Bad with a much lower pitch and George’s hitched somewhere between his and Dream’s. Then, slowly, Dream reached for the cane he’d brought with him. Stepped on the ending, popped off the little cap at the end.
This was going to hurt.
Like a bitch.
Turning, he found himself face to face with yet another of the giant snakes. A large, triangle-shaped head stared him down. Bright, pale white eyes held his, pupils slitted and dangerous. A forked red and black tongue slipped from the snake’s mouth, revealing enormous fangs. Lifting his cane, Dream braced to swing.
The snake reared back. For the first time, Dream got a really good look at it. A white scaled underbelly, with white flashes by its eyes and a frill at its neck. As he watched, the thick, diamond-shaped, black-patterned red scales on its head flattened out into a flat sort of plate. Hissing, it opened its maw, showed yellow-stained fangs. Bits of flesh clung to backwards-facing teeth. That’s where the scale came from, Dream realized. The same dark brown substance slicked the snake’s scales. Blood. That was blood. Swallowing, he raised the cane higher. Prepared himself.
“Dream!” George yelled. The snake struck down. For a split second, everything seemed to slow.
Something slammed into Dream’s side.
Immediately, he felt his body crash into the nearby aisles. Old cardboard boxes and candy bars scattered down around him. The aisle crashed into the floor tiles with a clang of metal. Gasping, he raised his hands to shield his head. Somewhere, George shrieked, a long and pained noise.
Head jerking up, Dream turned. There, right where he had been a second ago, was someone else. Sharp, long fangs jutted through their clothes. They entered in at the front of his chest and stretched through his body, piercing skin and organs and blood and bone to stab out like twin daggers on the other side of his back. Eyes wide, mouth open in a cry, he stared up at the snake. He’d shoved Dream to the side selflessly, without even thinking about it. Maybe he had thought about it. And maybe, just maybe, he decided he didn’t care and thrown himself into danger anyways.
Slowly, Bad slipped off of the snake’s fangs as it rose up.
His knees crashed against the tiles. A low gasp left him, arms hanging limply by his sides. Dropping down, he dropped his head. George was still screaming, stood stock still in the middle of the aisle. Splayed across the fallen display, Dream blinked a couple times and stared in shock. Then, the snake began to sliver away. Bad began to slump to the side.
Getting up, Dream sprinted over. Dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain in his own leg, he settled down next to Bad. Reached out to touch him gently. Pale eyes flicked to his and then drifted shut, and Bad’s head dropped to the side. He’d smiled slightly, just for a second where he looked at Dream. Like he had realized that Dream alive.
And then he was unconscious.
+++
When Skeppy looked up, it was to Dream and George sprinting back full speed with Bad on a stretcher.
“Dream!” Ant shouted beside him, ears pricking up and shoulders and back straightening. Immediately, he jumped off of the bus, landed on all fours. Beside him, Skeppy was already sliding off the bus. He didn’t care about Dream. Not in a bad way, obviously. He cared about Dream. Of course he did. But Bad was the one splayed across the stretcher. One of his arms was laid across his stomach. Skeppy skidded to a stop next to him, dropped down and held onto Bad’s hand.
“Bad. Bad, wake up, please.” He whispered.
“Dream!” Puffy yelled, marching up. Already, Skeppy and Ant had been replaced on top of the bus with Punz and Purpled. Both of them had their weapons drawn, looking around. “Dream! Where the FUCK is your CANE?!”
“Language.” Bad mumbled, eyes drifting open. His fingers latched with Skeppy’s. Turning, Skeppy met his gaze. Bad smiled, reached up and touched his cheek. His hand dropped down as he drifted off again.
Looking up, Skeppy asked, “What happened?” Dream and George exchanged a glance.
After getting the explanation, Ponk tried to treat Bad’s wounds. Cleaned them out while Skeppy sat beside him holding onto his hand and trying to be there if he woke up. He didn’t. Not when Ponk was stitching the bite wounds together. Not when Ponk accidentally whacked him in the head getting the bandages open. Not when Ponk finished bandaging up his chest. Then, they settled Bad in his stretcher in the middle of the aisle.
Then, Ponk turned to Dream. “You ran…” Immediately, Dream started shrinking down. Literally, he pressed himself against the bus wall and the seats on either side of him. “On your injured…leg… ” Already, Ponk was towering over him. Then, he burst out, “With AN INJURED PATIENT?! ”
“I swear there was a good reason!” Dream yelled, hands up and waving around. Fuming, Ponk smacked him on the back of the head like an angry mother from a Disney Channel movie from the early 2000s. With a yelp, Dream reached up and touched the back of his head. By then, Ponk was yanking Dream’s shoe off and tore it away. “Ah! Ponk!”
“My shoe now!” Waving the shoe in Dream’s face, gripping onto the heel, Ponk snapped, “You will get this back when you’re not hurt anymore. Tommy, take the shoe!” Then, he turned and yote the shoe to the back of the bus. Yelling, Tommy smacked the shoe out of the air, and it disappeared behind the back seats.
“My shoe!”
“Nope! Mine! Until you behave!” Ponk yelled back. Defeated, Dream dropped back against the wall again. There was a sharp thunk of his head against the window. “Don’t give yourself a fucking concussion!”
“Language.” Bad mumbled tiredly, eyes fluttering open a little bit. Looking down, Skeppy smiled at him. “Hey, Skeps. Got bit…” He tipped his head to the side. Swallowed weakly. “Huh. We’re home.”
Clearly, he wasn’t lucid. In the corner of his eye, Skeppy saw Sapnap and George exchange looks nervously. He’ll be fine. He decided. He has to be fine.
It’s Bad—he’s always fine.
+++
They couldn’t move the bus anymore.
Desperately, they’d tried to get to the closest Emergency Center. George had been driving for almost thirty-six straight hours before Sapnap convinced him to trade out, to sleep on Dream while Dream watched the road and kept Sapnap awake. Arms crossed, Skeppy laid across the bench Karl and Quackity normally used. They’d shifted slightly, placed Karl in the extra backseat and Quackity in a suspended bed like Connor and Purpled. They had moved everyone, and in the end Bad got too sick and they couldn’t move the bus without hurting him. No one knew why.
Still splayed across a cot they’d set up (the stretcher had Dream’s cane, they couldn’t exactly keep it from the man no matter how much he insisted he’d be fine without it like an idiot), Bad was rasping like Ant had. Of course, that didn’t show any signs of him getting better or worse. Maybe he’ll just be like Ant and Sapnap and Jack, Skeppy thought, pillowing his head on his arm. It was just before dawn, and Sapnap was curled up with Dream and George in the seat behind the driver’s. Phil had placed himself in the driver’s seat, awake but resting. He had a book and Schlatt’s shotgun sitting in his lap. On top of the bus, Callahan and Connor were currently keeping watch. Every so often, one of their feet would clunk on top of the bus, but it didn’t wake anyone up.
Skeppy hadn’t really slept, anyways. Slowly, he pushed himself upright. Felt Phil’s gaze on his back but didn’t do anything about it. Not like he was going anywhere. So, pulling himself up to his full height, or the closest he could get while kneeling on a sunken-in bus seat, Skeppy glanced around. Techno was curled up against the window, the dim light of his phone reflecting in his glasses. Ranboo was squished between him and Wilbur, one of Eret’s arms thrown over the two of them as she slept on Wilbur’s shoulder. Those three were all asleep, Wilbur’s head tipped back slightly as he snored. At the other side of the backseats, Karl had turtled up in his hoodie with his head down, hood up, and all limbs pulled in as far as Skeppy could tell.
Just in front of Karl, Tommy and Tubbo were bunched up under the blankets. Ant was purring, thrown across Velvet as his boyfriend had his legs kicked over the seat arm and one of his arms wrapped around his pillow. Kristin was right across from Ant and Velvet, curled up on her side with her back facing the seats in front of hers and snoring softly. Puffy was thrown across Niki and Minx, who seemed at ease in their row. Charlie was sleeping curled up in a ball. Jack’s head was resting against the bottom of his seat’s back, shoulders shoved into the seat and legs stretched out underneath Sam and Ponk to the point where his feet tangled with theirs. Somehow, Sam was sleeping upright, Ponk holding onto him. From his current angle, Skeppy couldn’t tell if Ponk’s eyes were open or not. Even if he was at a different angle, Quackity had his little hammock thrown there and so his arm was dangling down in front of Ponk’s face. Purpled was well enough asleep, now above Tommy and Tubbo.
There was a soft mumble, someone shifted in their sleep. From the looks of it, it was Fundy. “Schlatt, don’t drink the ICEE.” Fundy mumbled. Burying his nose in the crook of his elbow, Skeppy watched as Schlatt’s face scrunched up. Quackity replied in Spanish. Then, Fundy slipped into Dutch.
Shaking his head, unable to stop smiling, Skeppy glanced over to Alyssa. She and Punz were slumped into one another, earbuds still plugged in and Punz’s phone dangling precariously in his grip. Smile dropping, Skeppy glanced down to look at Bad.
They’d stripped him down to his t-shirt and boxers, thrown a blanket over his legs for his sake. In the moonlight streaming down between the windows, Skeppy could see a thin sheen of sweat on his face. The bandages, burning white under the moon, peeking out from beneath his shirt collar. Dark bruises under his eyes. But that wasn’t the most worrying thing. He’d been like this for several days, unmoving, unwaking, and unable to eat or drink anything. No matter how much they tried to get him to do so.
The worrying thing was the little black lines crawling up from the wounds in Bad’s chest and back to his face.
They looked like something out of Jumanji . Scrawled and spidery, they webbed across fever-paled skin. Shifting, Bad made a sound. Skeppy dropped his head slightly.
Jolting, Bad’s eyes opened. Sitting up, Skeppy looked down at him. “Bad?” He whispered, moving. Blindly, Bad suddenly pushed himself up on shaky legs. His knees wobbled, and Skeppy reached for him. When his hands brushed Bad’s skin, there was a sizzling noise. “Bad!” He hissed. Phil straightened up as Bad stumbled out of the bus. The blond reached for him. “Don’t touch him! I’ll get him!”
Shoving his legs into the jeans and boots he always left at the footwell under him, Skeppy yanked his jeans up over his pyjama pants and followed Bad out of the bus. Trembling, Bad stumbled towards the trees. Connor and Callahan both straightened up, eyes wide.
“Stay there! I’ll be back! And if not, let Sapnap know!” Skeppy yelled over his shoulder as he followed after Bad. The young man didn’t seem to have any control over where he was going. Rather, he walked stiffly beside the trees, down the asphalt road back where they had come from. Rocks and dry leaves crunched under dry leaves.
Yanking his hoodie off of his body, Skeppy quickly braced himself for the heat and then grabbed Bad. Spun the man to face him. Heat swelled over his hands. “Bad. Bad, focus on me. You’re going to freeze, man.” Looping one of his ankles with Bad’s, Skeppy yanked the hoodie over Bad’s head. His glasses were thrown askew, and Skeppy barely managed to fix them before Bad pulled away. His eyes were glassy and off.
All of a sudden, Bad was moving faster. The hoodie was still wrapped around him. It was like he had been taken over by something else. Then, he paused under a weeping willow. Skeppy sprinted up, skidded to a stop in the dried leaves. Panting, he glanced around.
There was a dim glow from Bad all of a sudden. Gaping, Skeppy stared ahead. Something shifted under the tree, and a triangular-shaped head appeared. No. No, not this time. Sprinting forwards, Skeppy prepared to slam Bad out of the way. A thick tail wrapped around him, and he was ripped up into the air. Yelling, he scrabbled for a grip, felt something tighten in his ribs. Mouth falling open, Skeppy kicked weakly. Come on, come on. “Bad!”
“Skeppy!” Someone else screamed. Looking over, Skeppy saw Ant, Velvet, Puffy, Purpled, and Punz sprinting up. The snake let Skeppy drop forwards a little bit. He scrambled for another grasp on something, anything. This gave him a clear look at the snake.
This snake was a bright diamond-blue color, with white spiral shapes drawn across the scales. Hissing, it stared him down. A forked blue tongue flicked out and slipped around his neck.
Then, the snake lunged.
+++
The first thing Purpled saw when he sprinted up was a giant cocoon of red-gold and orange membrane, no sign of Bad, an enormous snake, and Skeppy in the snake’s grasp.
The snake lunged forwards and bit down into Skeppy’s neck. Then, like it had been burned, the snake reeled back. Dropped Skeppy onto the ground. Then, it slithered off. Skeppy stayed on the ground, gasping and twitching. Then, he froze up and twitched twice. Purpled sprinted to his side, dropped down. Reached over, delicately touched him. Patches of diamonds seemed to have stretched across his skin, repeating and continuing up his neck as Purpled watched in horror.
“Skeppy?” He whispered, looking up to his face. Mouth open, Skeppy gasped in little breaths but didn’t move or speak. His eyes were focused on something else. Something distant. “Where’s Bad?”
“Purpled?” Ant’s voice broke the silence. Looking up, Purpled saw Ant standing by the giant cocoon. Turning, Ant said, “I think I know where Bad is.”
Behind him, where Ant had cleared some of the condensation away, was Bad’s face.
+++
They didn’t leave Bad.
Sitting in the grass, arms crossed and pulling his knees to his chest, Skeppy stared blankly into the fire. The diamond—they’d compared pictures—stretched up jaggedly over his skin. Stretched all the way down his right side over his chest and stomach and down his hip to his toes. He could still flex his toes, move his ankle around easily and feel things. But his skin had changed to a very pale blue. Little scales of diamond bridged the gap between brown skin and pure diamond. Swallowing, he dropped his head against his knee. Looked out at Bad’s little cocoon. Membrane stretched all over the willow, connected branches to the earth and vice versa.
With a sniff, he rubbed his nose. Wrinkled it a little bit. Then, he gently scratched at his skin. Felt his nail brush across the smooth surface of a diamond scale. I’m not the same. Do I even still look like me? He wondered, shifting slightly.
“Skeppy?” Sapnap’s voice broke him from his thoughts. Shifting his shoulders, Skeppy looked over at him. “How are you doing with all of this?”
Skeppy smiled weakly. Then, beside him, Sapnap settled down. Reached out and rested an arm over his shoulders. Immediately, Skeppy leaned into him. Some of the others were standing by the bus, trying to fix up one of the wheels. Dream was leaning heavily on his cane, a twisted look across his face as he held his opposite leg up as much as possible.
“I’m alright. What about Dream?”
“Dream’s fine. George and the others are watching over him.” Sapnap replied. Looking over, he added, “What I’m worried about is you. ” Skeppy blinked. Looked at him. Sapnap held his gaze for a little while. Then, he tipped his head slightly to the side. Continued to speak. “Bad’s going to be fine. Whatever this sickness is, he’ll be better soon. Once he gets out of that.”
“What if he’s different?” Skeppy asked, staring down at the rocks between his feet. Next to him, Sapnap shifted. Held out his other hand. Something sparked to life in his fingers—a little spurt of flame. No more than a little candle, really.
“Like me? Or Jack? Or Ant?” Looking over, Sapnap waited until Skeppy was looking at him to continue. “What’s so bad about being different?”
“What if someone tries to hurt him because he’s changed? Or what if he’s not himself?” Skeppy replied. Thinking, Sapnap sighed. “It’s been three days, Sapnap. What if he’s not like himself? What if he’s got a completely different personality?”
“You’re worried Bad is going to be someone else?” Skeppy paused. Then, slowly, he nodded jerkily. “Then we’ll change, too. But Skeppy, I have fire dancing on my fingers right now.” As if to prove this, he shifted his hand. The fire rolled out across his skin, but didn’t burn him. “I have a theory, Skeps. I think that we’re shifting to something that we could be very easily. Jack and I are blaze hybrids. Ant’s turning into a cat. You have diamonds on your skin. But it’s not our personalities that changed.” Sapnap smiled at him again. “It’s just our bodies.”
“So what do you think is going to happen to Bad?” Skeppy asked. Sapnap shrugged.
“Karl, Quackity, and I have bets going. I think that he’s going to be an angel. Karl thinks he’s going to be some kind of demon-looking thing. Quackity thinks he’ll get powers like the Egg.” Skeppy gaped at him. “What?”
“You have bets… going on about Bad… who is stuck in a cocoon.” Skeppy asked. Snorting, Sapnap gently shook him, hand tightening around Skeppy’s shoulder. “Sapnap. Also, wait, what do you mean about Ant turning into a cat?”
Staring at him, Sapnap pointed at Ant. Right then, Ant was crouched on top of the bus’ hood, a bright grin on his face. His ears had changed almost completely. Instead of something humanoid, they were dark brown and furry, almost reminiscent of the reboot Catra. A thin tail, matching the colors of Ant’s new ears, lashed slightly. (No wonder his body had dropped in calcium. He was growing new bones, tendons, muscles, and nerves.) His arms and legs had changed, too, black at the tips of his fingers and toes turning to a dark brown until it sort of stopped between his elbows and shoulders and then his knees and hips (although the latter part couldn’t be seen from him since he wore a black tank top and gray sweatpants). When he grinned, sharp canines flashed in the light. He had claws, now, at the tip of each finger.
“Okay so Ant is a furry?”
“No! Maybe? I don’t know.” Shrugging, Sapnap shoved at Skeppy. “He’s a cat man.”
“Catboy.”
“Indeed.”
“Okay, but like…” Skeppy tipped his head to the side. Swallowed once. Then, movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
The cocoon was moving.
Skeppy was on his feet in a second, already beside the cocoon and watching. His heart pounded in his chest as there was more movement. “Bad?” He whispered, gently touched the membrane. It bowed and dipped beneath his fingers, and it shifted again.
Then, something dropped against him. The first thing that Skeppy felt was arms around him. Then, there was the disgusting, slimy feeling of whatever the hell was in that cocoon. Still, he didn’t care. He just grabbed Bad closer, buried his face in the crook of Bad’s neck and shoulder. People hurried over, chattering amongst themselves.
When he opened his eyes, Skeppy realized why. His hoodie had been ruined and scratched up, torn away in most parts. Between, dark charcoal gray skin showed through. Red and black patterns marked across Bad’s skin, swirling and fascinating in the same movement. Oaken-brown hair had darkened to jet black, small red horns poking out of his hair. Instead of Bad’s pale, human eyes, pure white ones opened up. Black freckles sat on his cheeks and nose, and he had an actual tail somehow. There was an upside-down heart with pointed curves at the tip. Sharp claws sat at his fingertips.
Bad’s eyes met Skeppy’s. “Hey.” He forced out, voice rough from disuse. “You look different.” Kristin walked over with a towel, and Bad hissed in pain when he reached out for it. As soon as his skin touched the sunlight, he started burning. Skeppy grabbed the towel. Threw it around Bad’s shoulders and wrapped it over his head.
“Sure. I look different.” Skeppy whispered, and Bad held his gaze. Then, both of them started laughing. Bad tipped his head forwards, let his forehead rest on Skeppy’s for a moment. A thin tail wrapped around Skeppy’s arm, he felt the point rest on his shoulder and smiled. The movement was almost automatic.
“Okay!” Someone suddenly announced. Opening his eyes, Skeppy turned to look at Connor where he was standing. Gesturing widely, he added, “No one get bit by a monster or anything so no one else changes! That’s it!”
“Uh.” Schlatt raised a hand. Whipping around, Connor stared at him. So did everyone else. “We’ve got a problem.” Casually, he yanked off his boot, exposing what was definitely a goat’s hoof. Then, he crossed his arms, in an obvious I did not approve of this. “Because I wasn’t bit or anything.”
Throwing his arms forwards, Quackity bellowed, “OH, COME ON!”