Chapter Text
When The Black and White had their six children, they divided the dimension up equally between them. Their domains can be as large or as small as they want it, most preferring large. Pokotho, The Singular Voice, originally had only an infinite theater. Countless seats facing toward a stage with no ends. There's really only so many places you can go with that creatively, however, and if Pokotho is one thing, it’s creative.
When he found out about the existence of gardens, he knew he wanted one and whatever he wants, he gets. His theater actually gained limits as part of his expansion but he knew it was worth it. Endlessly, for weeks on end, he intricately crafted every blade of grass from thoughts of minds he’s claimed, every rock broken off from his mask, every gust of wind made of voices he has stolen, forced to sing in eternal harmony. When he finished his hard work, it was just like him. Perfect.
As many things as he could make it were the best color, blue. Grass was the shade of jeans, leaves were the color of the ocean, the sky was already good but none of those pesky clouds or sun to block it out. It’s not like they need them here, anyways. Soft, multi toned blue flowers of one shape, because anything else is discordant, adorned every ten foot tall bush. It was uniform, not a leaf out of place, not a blade of grass bent, every flower grew in predictable patterns.
Scattered throughout the maze were stone fountains, spewing Pokey’s most brilliant creation, his ooze. Gunk slopped out each spout, creating dull background noise for the musical quality of the wind to play over. They all held effigies in stone of various forms he had taken over the years, mostly regal looking humans in intricate outfits. Due to the process of their creation, they were all covered in a thin layer of slime, dying them a faint blue. In the center of it all was the piece de resistance.
A huge, 30 foot wide fountain with Pokey’s rather large mask hanging in the air above it. Not a mimicry of it, his real mask. He had to size it down substantially for the project but it worked out quite well. Whenever he needed to hold or wear it again, he merely plucked it away, leaving the clearing feeling rather empty. Goo sprayed and formed arches, spraying elsewhere in the basin neatly. The surface was perfectly smooth, no ripples in sight. It was typically used as a mirror by visitors. If a song started, and it was needed, the sludge would move any which way was necessary for the music.
Out of everywhere he could be, this area was Paul’s favorite place to go in The Black and White. The soft breeze tickled his face, whistling in his ear and shaking leaves in rhythm. Sometimes, he’d breathe, just for fun. In his more sacrilegious moments, he’d do some thinking, like he was right now. Currently, he sat on the hard rock of the side of the fountain basin, sitting ramrod straight and looking straight forward. His fingers tapped against the fountain, complimenting the sound of the wind perfectly.
The sound of soft footsteps grew closer to Paul but he knew it wasn’t who he wanted. He was not here at the moment, leaving Paul feeling rather alone, a feeling he hated. He spent enough time alone on earth. With a soft thud hitting the rock next to him, Paul sighed loudly and hung his head. “Well, nice to see you too, Otho.”
Otho turned to Wiley, disdain clear in his glowing blue eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
Wiley didn’t answer and looked around his shoulder. He saw that Pokey’s mask was not floating above the fountain. “Pokey’s gone. I take it you’re bored?” He asked as he turned back to Otho.
“You’re not helping.” Otho grumbled. “I’d rather be bored and alone than be near you.”
Wiley rolled his eyes. “Why do ya hate me so much?” Genuine curiosity was in his voice.
Otho glared at him, mildly dumbfounded. “Do you really have to ask that?’
Wiley shrugged nonchalantly. Otho sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes.
“You caused me to die.” He stated simply.
Wiley squinted at him and pointed at himself. “Was that me, though? Or was that you?” He said with a point.
Otho’s hand fell away from his face and he glared at him. “You told me to start thinking, I started thinking, and look what happened.” He motioned to the garden surrounding them with his hand.
“Doesn’t look that bad to me.” Wiley reasoned as he crossed his arms. Otho rubbed his hand over his face. “If you don’t leave, I’m going to punch you.”
Wiley stood up with his hands raised defensively. “Fine, fine.” He lowered his hands. “I was sent here to bring ya to the throne room, so…” The O dragged out his mouth as he offered a hand to Otho. With a sneer on his face and a grumble in his heart, Otho grabbed his hand.
Suddenly, the two stood in a void with six floating thrones hovering around them in a semi-circle. Five of them were mere blurs to Otho as he made a b-line to the one on the farthest left. It was made of glowing blue stones floating near each other tightly and thick blue plush covered the inside of the seat. A curtain hovered directly above the chair, ready to fall down at a moments notice. There were a few cracks in the throne itself that leaked the oh-so familiar blue ooze. It dripped off into the abyss, forever doomed to fall for eternity.
Otho related to the goo. He, too, is something insignificant, only useful for looking powerful for a moment and then going away to be forgotten. There were many aspects to his punishment here, one of which is to forever feel useless to the one he is devoted to. He finally reached his place near the throne and stood straight forward, waiting for his que. Wiley took his place next to his Lord's throne. Otho never bothered to learn the others' names, the only one that mattered to him was Pokotho.
Five bright color coded lights filled each seat, one stationed next to the green throne that was notably empty and partially destroyed, as a cacophony of laughter filled the empty air. Each light slowly took a shape and dimmed to show a human body solidifying underneath. “Now, that was a fun one.” The green body stated as he started forming.
They all had come into Otho’s comprehension at this point, taking human form, as the purple Lord spoke. “She fucked a ghost.” He stated with a teeth showing smile.
The yellow Lord sat upside down in his seat, head dangling where his feet should be, and cackled. “485 times that little Maxie’s ghost ran rampant and that was a first.”
“Yes, yes, we can all agree that part was hilarious. Now,” The green Lord got out his seat and strutted over to a teen standing in the middle of the thrones, face blank and body stone still. He paced around the kid like a predator, hungry eyes flicking up and down, sizing him up. “What to do with this thing?”
“Oo, we can-” The pink Lord interjected excitedly before he was interrupted. “You’re not eating him again, Nibbly.” The green Lord said sternly.
The pink one slumped down in his seat, clearly upset. After a moment of silent consideration, the yellow Lord started yelling energetically. He shot out his seat and dashed on all fours to crouch right behind the kid. His hands clapped rapidly. “Idea, idea, idea!”
The green Lord sighed. “If you suggest the Bastard’s Box again, I swear to me-” Yellow cut him off. “No, no, it’s not that.”
His smile was manic as he spoke. “I propose,” He raised a finger and took a dramatic pause. “We make a new servant.”
Everyone stared at him with both curiosity and confusion. The green one spoke first, raising a hand and waving it around emphatically. “Are you suggesting that we take this random kid and turn him into a disciple?” The yellow one nodded.
“That’s dumb, Tinky.” The green one said as he started walking back to his chair.
Instantly, the yellow Lord started defending himself. “Just hear me out, ok?” With no response from anyone given, he started explaining. “We all have to share one guy.”
Pokotho obnoxiously coughed and the yellow Lord rolled his eyes. “Ok, everyone except Pokey has to share one guy." He looked at Him and Pokotho gave a smug grin. Yellow continued. "And we hate sharing, notoriously bad sharers, all of us.” Everyone mumbled in agreement. The yellow one grabbed the teen by his shoulders and shook him.
“We take this kid, do what we did to Wiley, and, bing bang boom, new servant.” He looked with wide eyes at everyone in the void, or at least the people who mattered, Otho and Wiley both ignored, and waited for a response.
“But why him?” The green one pointed out. “He’s not exactly smart and, sure, he’s strong but he’s still a child. Anyone we send him after could overpower him like,” He snapped his fingers. “That.”
The yellow one raised his hands. “Easy fix. We just age him a few years, make him the brawn to Wiley’s brains.”
Quiet contemplation grew again. The purple Lord spoke up. “I got nothing better to watch. I say ‘Aye’.”
“If this fails, can I eat him?” The pink Lord asked. When the yellow Lord nodded, his body shook in excitement. “Then totally go for it.” He licked his lips and stared at the frozen spirit in front of them all.
“I don’t care. Do what you want.” Pokotho said in a bored yet elegant tone. Otho could listen to Him speak all day, something he actually has done before.
The green Lord shrugged. “Fine.”
The yellow Lord pumped his arms in celebration. They basically never went with his plans so this was more so about proving a point than anything else. He didn't fully care about what happened with this guy. With his hands still on the teen’s shoulders, he tapped his fingers on him in anticipation. “I’m gonna go get this guy ready. See ya in a few.”
A flash of yellow light and they were both gone. When it came to the yellow Lord, "a few" was a confusing phrase. It could mean anything from a few seconds to a few decades. Oh, well, he’ll show up when he shows up. The pink Lord and the purple Lord both vanished as well, leaving only Pokotho and the green Lord.
The green lord snapped his fingers and Wiley dashed out from behind his Lord’s chair to stand right in front of him. “I’m not getting hands on with this whole thing, mainly because I don't care, so I’m gonna leave this all to you.”
Wiley nodded and Otho tried not to laugh. Now, that’s funny. Wiley’s going to have to spend all his time for the foreseeable future teaching the ropes to some newbie who’s never even heard of the Lords In Black before. Plus, Otho still remembers Max from the hive. That kid was a little shit by the nicest of descriptions. He’ll be regretting all his life choices by the end of day one.
“What are you smiling about?” Pokotho’s voice jolted Otho out of his humor. “You’re helping him.” Otho practically felt himself deflate and nodded sadly. “Yes, Lord.” This is what he gets for letting himself be happy for a moment.
“Hey, Wiggly.”
The green Lord ended his conversation with Wiley to which Wiley turned to stare at Pokotho. A decent sized bit of Otho was angry at this sight. He causes Otho's failure and now he has the audacity to look at Him? “What?” Green asked.
“Otho’s helping.”
The green Lord gave a thumbs up. “Great, I don’t care.” He vanished as well.
Once he was gone, Pokotho turned back to Otho. “This is what you get for failing me.” Otho nodded. “Yes, Lord. I deserve it.” He truly felt he did. Blue light swarmed over them both as He returned to Pokey’s domain.
Wiley moved over to stand right in front of Otho. "Well, I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next while, huh?"
Otho's voice was filled with acid as he monotonically spoke. "Yay." If Wiley noticed how very much Otho didn't want to do this, he didn't make it clear.
Wiley moved to stand next to Otho and draped an arm around his shoulders. "Now, first, we're gonna hafta break his mind, body, and soul. Let's just focus on that part for now." Otho stared off into the inky black abyss as he kept on muttering about something he cared nothing about. He wished that the void would swallow him whole so he didn't have to do this but, tragically, life's never been that nice to him.