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Joel snickered as he stared at the bottle in his hands. Inside, sleeping peacefully in the base, was a familiar mothling. The warm evening light was highlighting the soft greens and purples of Scott’s wings, and his fuzzy, delicate antennae twitched subtly as he shifted in his slumber. He looked somewhat magical, if he was being completely honest with himself. It was a stark change from the cold, hardened ice king he’d come to know in a blurry world that was difficult to recall. Warm and gentle. Peaceful.
That just couldn’t stand now, could it?
Ever since he’d first met up with Scott in their new world, he knew a good pranking was sorely in order. A lighthearted act of vengeance, if you will. And after a few days of plotting, he’d come up with the perfect plan. Sure, he’d spent an entire day stalking the small man, and sure, the bottle was a bit large and awkward, but it had worked out splendidly nonetheless.
It had been a tedious task to bring Scott all the way to his base without waking him, but the moth seemed to be a heavy sleeper, thank nether. He didn’t even wake when Joel had precariously slipped him down the neck of the glass bottle and corked it. (With air holes, of course, he wasn’t a monster) But it was all worth it, because he could hold this over Scott’s head until the end of time. He set the bottle gently on a stand above his desk, clamping it into place to prevent any -ahem- accidents.
He stepped back to admire his handy-work, and had to restrain himself from bursting out laughing, his entire body shaking with muffled giggles. He pulled out his communicator, snapped a quick picture, and smirked. Oh, he was so using this for blackmail. He could probably squeeze a favour or two out of Scott for this; goodness knows his pride would never want this to get out.
Was he evil? Maybe. Did he care? No.
Joel yawned, stretching his arms above his head and shivering. Pranking was hard work, and a nice hot lava bath was sounding really good right about now.
—
Scott awoke slowly, blinking and rubbing his eyes. He stretched and unfurled his wings from where they were wrapped comfortably around him, only to be stopped halfway when they hit something solid. His face twisted in confusion as he looked up, a shiny, warped ceiling greeting him. Beyond it was a room he didn’t recognize, made of clay, dark stones and red chiseled accents, lit with cool blue lamps. Very much not the cozy wooden cliff-side home he’d built by hand, with soft blankets and warm lanterns that he’d fallen asleep to. The surface beneath him was chilled to the touch, smooth and hard. Glass. It surrounded him on all sides, bending the outside like a funhouse mirror. If he focused on it too hard, it made him feel dizzy and disoriented. How did he get here? What time was it? Where was here? Who brought him here? Questions anxiously swirled through his head as he stood, eyeing the thin tube over his head and the brown object blocking what must be his exit.
A cork. He was in a bottle.
Scott took a deep breath. Ok! No need to panic. He just needed to fly out of here, and go home. Easy peasy. Right? He centred himself with the cork, flaring his wings as far as his confines would allow and flapping up as hard as he could. He was airborne for only a moment before his wings began to hit the narrow edges of the glass and he lost altitude, falling back on his butt with a yelp. It didn’t help at all that the reflections made it incredibly hard to move without stumbling, throwing off his depth perception in a way he hadn’t known was possible. His stomach twisted with steadily growing nervousness, and in the back of his mind there was a voice telling him to escape, that he needed out. Now.
Not safe. Trapped. Not safe here.
He shook his head, as if trying to jostle the thoughts out. Aeor knows what would happen if he let his instincts get the better of him now, especially because they were still so new. He just needed to think, but the whispers of Escape, not safe, get out, trapped, were steadily growing louder and louder, making it harder and harder to focus on any solutions. His wings twitched and jerked behind him, and he found himself flinching every time they hit the glass walls.
Not safe
Trapped
Get out
He approached the shiny barrier and pushed, trying to jostle the bottle. If he could get it off this shelf…
Danger danger danger
Trapped
A frustrated noise escaped his throat when he caught the faint lines of some kind of potion stand through the glass ceiling, keeping his prison clamped firmly in place. He was trapped. Really, truly trapped; at the complete mercy of whoever had brought him here. The realization made his heart sink and his hands begin to shake.
Trapped
Trapped
Trapped.
Pieces of disjointed, strangely familiar memories flickered across his vision. Of a mother warning him of the dangers of humans- to never, under any circumstances, let yourself be captured, of a brother, carried away in a net, screaming for him while a father forced him back into a house, of parents, telling him to hide, because there were hunters outside. Telling him to be very quiet.
A door clicked open, and Scott jolted from his thoughts. He scrambled backwards until he couldn’t any more, until his wings were pressed uncomfortably against the icy glass. He was running on pure instinct now, head clouded with fear and all logical thought thrown out the window. He couldn’t even register that the man who had walked in looked familiar, he just needed to hide hide hide. He was completely visible in here. In the open. He was prey, and he was in danger. His wings snapped out to wrap around himself, and he curled his knees to his chin tightly. His eyes burned as he heard heavy footsteps approach.
Thump, thump, thump.
His breath froze in his lungs, and he was practically trembling. Stay still. Danger danger danger, hide hide hide.
“Scott?”
Scott blinked. He recognized that voice. After a moment of hesitation, he pried his wings apart to peer past them. He was met with the familiar face of Joel. His eyebrows were pinched in concern as he stared into the bottle at him. Something clicked, and suddenly, he felt a bit silly. A little more than silly, actually.
“Scott, are you alright?” Joel asked, frowning.
Scott scrubbed at his eyes, hoping to erase any evidence of the tears that had come so close to falling, before opening his wings and uncurling from his ball. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught. His cheeks were burning hot with embarrassment. Earlier, he was cold, but now the bottle felt unbearably stuffy. He was an idiot.
He tried again, “I-I’m fine, Joel. Can you just… Get me out of here? Please?” He asked, face burning brighter at just how meek he sounded.
“Yes! Yeah, of course…” Joel hurried, guilt flooding his voice.
Scott flinched as the bottle was jostled and removed from the self, and Joel winced. He popped the cork and tipped it gently, allowing Scott to scramble out through the neck of the bottle and onto the wooden desk.
“Listen, I’m really sorry,” Joel said, “It was supposed to be a prank, but… I just- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Scott shrugged, gaze flickering anywhere that wasn’t Joel’s eyes. Even as he regained his composure, his cheeks still burned. His ears we probably cherry red with embarrassment. He had moved further from the bottle than what was probably necessary, and the air around them was tense and awkward. Neither knew what to say. What could you say after that?
Scott sighed, turning to the nearest open window, “I think I’ll be going now…” He mumbled, and spread his wings to take off.
“Scott, wait!” Joel blurted, and Scott paused, his back facing him.
“I feel really bad…” Joel admitted, hoping he came across as sincere he felt, “Is there… anything I could do to make it up to you?”
There was a beat of silence, and Joel was scared for a moment that Scott would just leave, not believing just how bad he felt, but then Scott turned to look at him, a devious glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face.
Joel’s eyes widened.
Uh oh.
—
“Got yourself in quite the predicament now, haven’t you Joel?” Lizzie chuckled, staring at her husband through the bubble of glass he was sitting in. A large sign in neon letters read “Blaze In A Bottle: 10 Diamonds”, and was hung around the neck of a very large glass bottle. Perched happily on the cork, was Scott, grinning like a maniac.
Joel grumbled, arms crossed over his chest as he readjusting himself against the slippery walls of the bottle, an embarrassed flush giving his face an unusually warm burn. This was so dumb…
Sausage approached with a giggle, tapping on the glass like an annoying child on a fishbowl, “I’d buy it, but I’ve got enough pets at home already,” He snickered, and looked up at Scott, “I must say Scott, you’ve got something exotic on your hands here!”
“I know! Neat one, isn’t he?” Scott leaned over the corks edge to peer down at Joel and shoot him a devilish smile. He was enjoying every second of Joel’s humiliation, he just knew it.
“Oh my gosh, I get it!” Joel huffed, “Go away Sausage, you jerk!” He kicked at the glass half-heartedly, and Sausage jumped back, laughing.
“Alright, alright! I’ll be going then!” Sausage exclaimed, spreading his wings, “Have fun, Joel!” And he took off in a fit of giggles.
“Lizzie, help me out here!” Joel whined, giving her his best puppy dog eyes.
Lizzie shook her head, watching her husbands torment in amusement, “No, I think you’ve earned this Joel,” She said with a smirk, “I’m not getting you out of this one.”
Joel groaned, dragging his hands down his face.
“Well, I’ve got some building to do. Take care of him Scott!” Lizzie called, and the raccoon ran off with a wave, leaving Joel to his captor.
Scott slid down the outside of the bottle and fluttered onto the grass. He settled beside Joel with the stretch of his wings and a sigh, and set a small hand on the barrier between them.
“Thanks, Joel.” He smiled, rapping his fingers against the glass.
Joel shrugged, “The least I could do.”
The two sat in a comfortable silence for awhile, the sounds of nature buzzing around them as they watched the sun begin to set over the horizon. Maybe a bit of peace wasn’t so bad after all, Joel thought.
“…You think I could get out of this thing now?”
“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting you out for at least another hour. Get comfortable.”
“Ah. Alright.”