Work Text:
Stellaron Hunters ★ Family (LOL)
Firefly
do we have to add Sunday to the group chat
ヽ(`⌒´メ)ノ
Elio
Yes.
You have days to delete your rants before I invite him here. LOL
It had been days — 4 system weeks or 28 system days to be exact — since he had become a fugitive, a criminal, and a traitor to the Harmony. He had done nothing but count endlessly for every day that had passed since his departure from Penacony. Before reaching Pier Point, he had been intercepted by the Hunters and truly had nothing to do besides lose himself in his chamber of thoughts. It’s always a hollow feeling when he wakes into consciousness and finds himself still in the same plain and unfamiliar room — an accommodation that Elio managed to pull off at the last minute. There wasn’t much in it yet, and Sunday has yet to fill up the room with whatever he wishes to put up. But right now, he doesn’t have the will to even get out of bed, much less even decorate a room.
Sleep felt like a risk sometimes; the fear of falling into a hopeful dream made him far too restless. He would end up pacing in his room or lying awake and still, ruminating over the past and future alike. The dreams tend to become nightmares at some point, and sometimes the dreams felt so optimistic that there was only a deep, nauseating pit in his stomach when he woke. Ironically, he wasn’t the type to rest even in the Dreamscape, instead always overlooking and ensuring that things will run the way they should. So whenever he was too tired to keep his eyes open, he would be too exhausted to even form any coherent dreams.
Because how could he even dream knowing that he had just put a huge burden onto his dear sister that he left behind? Robin, the one who is able to soar high and beyond, was shackled into the responsibility that he left behind. Sunday was unable to do anything but sit still, otherwise he’d compromise her future further. He had asked Elio once when he finally appeared before him in the flesh accompanied by Molten Knight Sam.
‘In the future that you foresee, can you tell me if Robin will be okay?’ He has to know, after all. What was the worth of going with a bunch of criminals if he wasn’t going to benefit from it in any shape or form? He had to be sure.
Destiny’s Slave smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, Mr. Sunday. You have my word on it.’
At first, he didn’t exactly like leaving his room. For the first week following his arrival, he kept to himself — aside from occasional knocks inviting him to eat. Most of the time he refused the offer and closed the door before returning to mull on his thoughts with slightly furrowed brows. He didn’t have the will to even let himself be given the sustenance his body craved. He didn’t even need to eat when he was in the Dreamscape, and he only indulged whenever it was necessary or if the food was sent to him by his sister. It was an uncomfortable and equally unexpected change to feel hunger — another bodily need that he often forgot he had. Still, he consistently refused, but on the third night, he surrendered to what his body asked of him and accepted the food that was handed over to him. As expected, it was the usual armored knight at the door handing over the plate of food that had been routinely served at the table. He wasn’t sure why it had been the Molten Knight every single time — and every single time, they appeared in their mechanized form. They didn’t seem to like him as much though, even threatening him as they held a plate of sliced apples once.
‘Eat.’ They spoke with a certain sternness that Sunday left unappreciated. ‘Elio had foreseen that you would take it this time.’
He would catch a glimpse of the others at the table not far from his room and hear a chuckle from that Stellaron Hunter woman, Kafka, whenever she caught his glance. He said his thanks and retreated back to his room, now not only mulling on his thoughts but also on the apple slices that were given to him. It’s enough sustenance for now, he thinks. But slowly, he accepts their food as the days go on. It started with small portions, primarily consisting of snacks, as if they were testing the waters of what he’d take. And every time when he knew that there weren’t many people out, he would put his plates into the sink and throw his trash away into the chute before sneaking back into his room.
But at one point, there wasn’t a knock on the door. Instead, he heard the knob twist, the feathers of his wings fluttering in alarm as his gaze immediately darted to the door.
“Hey,” It was Kafka peeking her head through the crack of the door. His shoulders eased a little, but he couldn’t help but still feel unnerved. He saw her as more of the rational and level-headed one from the group, just as reports described her as the right hand man of Destiny’s Slave. “Elio says you should join us at the table.”
He narrowed his gaze at her, unable to shake the cautious feeling. He’s not exactly the type to handle changes in how he deals with his matters very well. It’s already a huge change that he’s even here — in the territory of wanted criminals — and he is still wrapping his head around about it. This interaction with Kafka was unprompted, too candid for his own liking. “Why?”
“Why?” She repeated his question with mirth. She entertains his question, looking around his room for a moment before opening the door slightly more. He isn’t sure if there is some sort of indistinguishable judgment in her gaze, but it makes him feel slightly uncomfortable. “Well, it has been days. A week, actually. Says that you’ll need some company before you start rotting in bed next if we leave you alone for any longer.”
It’s either Elio has foreseen it, or it was just something out of their own work-like concern, knowing that he didn’t bring Sunday here to sulk around and about. He doesn’t have a part in the script yet as of now. He doesn’t have to get along with them, believing it’s completely unnecessary. They’re co-workers and, by all means, under the command of Destiny’s Slave, who all have different objectives why they’re even in this faction in the first place. They just happen to live under one roof. So, he shook his head as a response. “I think I’m comfortable being alone.”
As if she didn't hear him, Kafka stepped back and replied, "Ah, well, so is Bladie, angel boy." She gestured at him, leaving his door ajar with the same amused smile he didn’t like as much. “Come before the food gets cold.”
Sunday sat on his bed, bewildered and stupefied by her lack of manners. His face turned into a scowl as he rose. Just how dare she, really. He doesn’t want to be bothered and, frankly, he doesn’t even want to share a dinner table with the others. Irrelevant memories glide past as he struggles to recall the last time he even shared a table with anyone. He falls short, unable to even narrow down a rough idea of when, and concludes it's been a while.Right now is definitely not the time for him to do exactly that anyway.
Yet he paused at the door, staring at the sight of them slowly gathering at the table. It’s so informal that the very thought of it doesn’t really appease Sunday, but he’d be a liar to say he wasn’t curious. He wasn’t one to be easily drawn to temptation — no, definitely not. Curiosity doesn’t bring that good for the order that he constructed for himself. But that curiosity of his tends to be his greatest flaw at times like now when it is unnecessary. He stood there, contemplating, watching as they grabbed plates off drawers and placed them on the table. The mere thought of these criminals wanted for different charges across half the universe with bounties that could set anyone for life, all gathering at a table like it was an office break, sounded so far-fetched that Sunday didn’t think he’d witness it — or even be a part of it even.
Despite his better judgment, he skittered to the empty seat, eyeing at the table and no one else. There don’t seem to be words that need to be exchanged, especially when considering that it is still an awkward situation, but this would mark the first time he had joined their table. The table is filled with strange individuals with varying backgrounds that he does not know nor care to know. Yet they broke bread with him regardless and indulged themselves in conversation and light banter over the table, and he listened to it all like he’d previously done from a distance. He was still practically a stranger, but somehow, it gave him an ounce of understanding of what it means to belong.
For once, he didn’t feel like he had to put himself up to an expectation of how he should act in front of others. For once, he didn’t feel the need to bear responsibility bigger than himself. Even for a bubble of this moment, he wasn’t Sunday, the Oak Family head who has to make sure things are running smoothly even at the immense amount of pressure. Instead, he was just Sunday eating a meal with strangers with different kinds of dreams as him, all unique kinds of envisioned paradise that Elio must have promised.
Stellaron Hunters ★ Family (LOL)
Silver Wolf
do u think he eats birds? im very curious
Kafka
You should ask him that, Wolfie
Firefly
stop encouraging her!
Kafka was the first one he got along with, and it came easily. It was likely because she was the only one who would give him a decent answer other than Elio. She’s the one who would often be present in Elio’s stead whenever he was unavailable and would hold their conversation in a professionality that he was relieved was present. Everyone else? It was… a difficult pursuit to make.
Silver Wolf spends more time in her room than he does with his, and he irks at the sight of cans that she brings out by the end of the week. Even if he were to find her outside of her room, she would be focused on her phone or console. She would mutter curses — sometimes taking out a different screen to type something in it before returning to her main one. It would be hopeless to try and change her ways, so he resorts to sighing at the sight of her and her habits.
Blade is a recluse. That man kept to himself, only speaking when spoken to, and even then, he spoke with few words. They all didn’t seem to mind it as much. He was always sent to do grocery runs with Silver Wolf or with Sam (In their mech suit? Probably not. He has not even seen them without it yet.), and he’d come back with way more things than he should have as the smaller girl behind him hopped and shared the name of the new game she bought. Kafka explained his situation in the vaguest terms once, sensing his curiosity. It was just enough for him to understand and stir away, uninterested in further more details.
‘Elio offered Bladie a true funeral, an end to his undying life.’ She said as she painted her nails with delicate precision.
‘Why?’ He asked her.
She gave a small smile and hummed, satisfied with her work. ‘If you’ve been alive for longer than you should, wouldn’t you want to finally get that eternal rest too?’
He didn’t like the thought of that — the concept of permanent end, of Death. Grief dons different faces and Death has a particular kind that he wished to no longer see. So, he kept quiet that day and the topic never resurfaced.
There was a knock on the door before the knob twisted. Sunday doesn’t even have to guess which one even has that much guts to open the door without having a response as he sat up from his bed. The woman peered into the room, staring at him. “Angel, can you give me a minute?”
He narrows his gaze. The wings by his ear fluttered ever so slightly. What could she possibly need his assistance with? “Yes?”
Kafka stepped inside holding a neatly folded garment wrapped in plastic as she leaned by the doorframe. “Elio told me to hand this over to you. He told me to tell you intermission is over. ‘Bout time you get sent on a mission, don’tcha think?”
Oh. Oh.
Mission. It would be his entrance once again on Elio’s grand stage of fate and destiny, this time as a part of a faction that no person truly expected him to run to. He wouldn’t be Sunday the Oak Family head of the Penacony Family, no. He’d be Sunday, a criminal who had almost brought Asdana into an eternal dream, now a part of those who carry the stage directions of the great script of Destiny’s Slave. He fought a snort over his next train of thought, suddenly thinking how Gopher Wood would have reacted. Definitely not pleased.
But then he thought of his dear sister, whom he had left behind, who had to deal with everything that had happened in his absence. He wondered every day since he had made his escape out of Penacony about how she was doing. He wanted so desperately to check up on her in some form — knowing that she would receive some kind of backlash and suffering just for being associated with him. He couldn’t even protect her even at this very moment because he was somewhere else that would surely guarantee the security he strives for the both of them and the paradise that they’ve dreamt of. He has left his sister — his only remaining family — to fend for herself for the first time without him rushing to her aid. The food that he ate hours ago felt like it was going to come up at any second at the very thought.
Yet another face of grief, really.
“Oh and, you’ll be needing this suit too.” She tossed the garment that she was holding in her arms to his direction before crossing her arms as she watched him gingerly take it despite his sudden nauseated state. “Try this on, it’ll fit you like a charm.”
He fought against himself to at least sound composed. He didn’t have to figure out as much what it might have been, simply just basing off the tie and cufflinks that were packed together with. “What’s the suit for?”
“Uniformity.” She answered, as if delighted in herself as he tore it open to take out the pair of gloves from the package. It matches his old ones, albeit in a darker color. “Elio loves dramatics. You’re gonna be gettin’ your script in a few too. Keep your eyes peeled on your phone when you do.”
The script. He couldn’t help but anticipate what the contents might be once he received it. He wonders where he’ll be going, wonders what he’ll be doing. He nodded and murmured his ‘thanks’ and ‘will do’ quickly enough that it didn’t take long before the woman finally closed the door behind her. He was left to his own devices once again, staring at the first gift that he had received from these strange people that he considers his co-workers. The texture was great, the fabric felt clean and spotless. Must have been new. He might as well at least try it on now in preparation for the script. Perhaps it’ll be needed considering it was given to him this early on — only just a few system days since he had arrived.
Sunday brushed the coat off its non-existing dust as he stared at himself. It was a perfect fit, indeed.
Stellaron Hunters ★ Family (LOL)
Elio added Sunday to the chat.
Attachment sent.
Elio
You’ll be working with Blade and Silver Wolf on your first assignment. @Sunday
They’ll show you the way around.
Make sure to save it too so you’d have a copy.
He fixes the cufflinks of his suit, waiting for his next stage direction according to the script. It won’t be long for his companions to return, a few system minutes away according to the certain stanza of the script.
Setting, Petrichor-IV. Scene 59. Description, the Earth variant world will fall into the charm of a showstopper actress to avenge the sister that was killed by the industry. In 30 system hours, the planet will fall into ruin upon the actress’ wish to the Stellaron.
Reading through the script and the events that were going to transpire to this planet gave him an unpleasant feeling. Will fall into the charm, will fall into ruin. It’s definitive. Unchanging. It will happen no matter what. No matter how many paths were to branch out, it would result in the same outcome. A certain end. This showstopper actress will still make a wish to the Stellaron whether or not they were here.
He felt somehow thankful the script gave enough information when he first skimmed through it. It was specific enough that he’d be reassured without feeling constrained. He was free to speak whatever he wished to say during his parts, providing enough room for him to go with. He remembered the words of that man Blade as they left for Petrichor-IV, the first time he had ever spoken to him.
‘You can say whatever you want. It will happen anyway one way or another.’ He told him.
‘Yeah, and I go off the script sometimes. I just use the thing as a guide.’ The smaller girl chimed in despite the loud sounds coming from her phone. It’s like a miracle even seeing the hacker girl out and about in the first place. ‘Going off script is like — what do you call that? Doing ad libs. Just an additional thing into your part.’
And true to their words, they were right. He didn’t really have a lot of moments where he had to speak, at least, but it didn’t lead to any dire consequences as everything still fell into place down to the very word and detail of the script. It was astonishing to see it happen but frightening at the same time. Destiny was a concept that Sunday didn’t particularly wrap his head around — solely because it was something that he would never put his fate to. It’s impossible to figure out, following an erratic pace of maybe’s and probably’s. He could never truly know what would happen next with every flap of a butterfly’s wing.
A part of himself wondered what Elio must have foreseen in the first place to offer him his salvation — a way to answer his questions. What is his part in the grand scheme of what Elio saw, and why him? That question never fully left him even from the beginning. What would have happened if he hadn’t accepted his invitation in the first place?
The door of the room they were temporarily occupying opened as a familiar figure entering in. The stage exit was right on cue.
The shorter girl, Silver Wolf, looked at him in surprise as her disguise slowly disintegrated into digital dust as she approached. “You’re early.” She almost sounded impressed.
Sunday offered her a wave before his gaze returned to his phone screen. He was waiting for a live stream to start — one that would have Robin be the spokesperson addressing what will become of Penacony going forward. It made sense that it would have taken days; the PR on the situation along with the issue with the IPC must have been a lengthy process. He wondered what she may say and what script she may be following. He was usually the one who would accompany her through the process of it. This would practically be the first that he wouldn’t be able to be by her side to do so. But still, he wanted to make an effort to be there and keep tabs on Penacony’s current events in a different way — at least in some shape or form.
Silver Wolf dragged a chair across from him and sat down, getting back to her usual pastime as she flicked a hand, screens coming to life. This would be one of the occasions that he had even spoken to her normally outside of her usual… gaming activities. “Bladie might be back after an hour. Don’t worry about him, he can handle himself just fine.”
He hummed. He knew that, of course. It was also written in his script, even down to the minute that the man will arrive. And then, they’d be on the move again to proceed to the next scene on the stage.
The silence hung in the air for a good minute before the hacker girl spoke again. “You don’t talk a lot, don’t you, Feathers?”
“I do.” He partially winced at the name she had given him but decided to brush it off. Just what is up with people calling him that? The weathers of his wings fluttered a bit in displeasure. “I just don’t know anything good to have a conversation with you about.” That, and she seems a little tricky to figure out. He can’t even wrap around his head what she even wants to talk about. But still, he might as well try.
She shifts in her seat and hums, flicking one of her screens to the other side, letting it run in the background. “Okay. So what kind of games do you play? Are you the retro type? MMORPG? First person shooter? Stealth? Puzzles? Rhythm? Horror? Visual novels? Wait, don’t tell me — do you spend Family funds on gacha games?”
He looked at her in utter disbelief, — almost like she just suggested something so blasphemous — finally turning his attention to his companion in front. “Why would I spend money on gambling?”
“Oh, you’re F2P? That takes guts, dude.”
Their conversation went on back and forth, Silver Wolf trying to figure out games he has played before. She seemed determined from that prospect, listing off a mix of games he’d heard of a few times and games foreign to his ears. At some point, she decided to drag her chair closer to his, showing her phone to him as she scrolled through a catalog of games with varying genres. She went on a tangent to tell him how some of the games works, even getting him to download on his phone that he’s not even sure if it could run whatever applications she was downloading.
He heard the door open as they were in the middle of a co-op, Silver Wolf’s character leading him along as she goes on and on about the game’s worldbuilding and mechanics. He got lost in her rambling at some point, simply because he was trying to catch up on what terms she was using half of the time. He lifted his gaze off his screen when he heard footsteps incoming, checking to see the person at the hall.
“Oh.” Seeing Blade holding onto his shoes when he entered made Sunday realize he had entirely lost track of time, and he immediately checked his phone clock. He felt his heart drop before he quickly exited the game, swiping through his screen to get to the live stream that he had been waiting for before Silver Wolf even arrived. Aeons. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he played it, just in time just as her speech was still happening.
“Hey, you’re back.” Silver Wolf took the matter with grace and only eyed Sunday carefully, gesturing at the other man to come in. He didn’t exactly hear what they were talking about, his attention now entirely focused on the video playing on his phone. He still has time. Just give some time.
Robin had a solemn look on her face during this part of her speech. The camera was focused entirely on her, and it did not bring him so much comfort knowing that she must have felt uneasy throughout the process. What he heard next was deafening, knowing that it just had to come from her — out of all people. She had always been the face of Penacony, the darling starlight of the Oak Family. It makes sense why, but never once did she handle these kinds of matters, only having her focused on her career. He had done everything he could to make her stay away from being shackled from the responsibility he left behind.
“... if anyone is aware of Mr. Sunday’s whereabouts, please report him immediately to your nearest authorities as the Interastral Peace Corporation had sanctioned his wanted order for his crimes against the Family, and the thousands of people he had put at risk for his conspiracy in Penacony. I will also hereby announce to everyone the decision, on behalf of the Families of Penacony, that Mr. Sunday from this day on is now officially exiled and to not return to the Planet of Festivities indefinitely…”
Maybe this was Sunday’s price to pay for failing. He can’t even do anything right. It didn’t matter to him that it was now said on live broadcast that he was a wanted criminal, no. He doesn’t care about that. What he cared about was that the entire situation at hand had put his only family — whose desire was to be free — to be caged with more eyes to be her judge to not make a mistake of letting her go like they did with him.
“Hey.” He looked up, staring at the face of the girl that made him realize what life he had missed. “You good?”
He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, putting up a face and pocketed his phone. “Absolutely. Let’s get to our next scene in the script.”
His first mission ended smoothly, and the first thing he did upon returning was walk straight to his room and remain there for a few days. No one had heard from him, and he hadn't heard from anyone. Maybe Silver Wolf or Blade must have told them he had a moment during the mission and that he should be left alone. It’s not like it had even affected the outcome of the script anyway. If there was anything that he was good at, it was handling his problems with grace until he was alone.
Sunday was back to square one again, staring at the ceiling, counting the days since he had been here. He watched the entirety of the live stream when he got back, letting it play as he caught up to the matters that Robin covered and then never played it again. He hadn’t been checking his phone, and he is not planning to do so for the meantime. He usually ignored whenever he heard a knock at the door, and he would refuse anything they brought him again. At least until someone — a new record — decided to knock on his door and entered right after. He didn’t bother checking who it is, it might be Kafka or Elio for all he knows. He had known Silver Wolf enough to conclude that she wouldn’t do that since she already pesters him through his inbox with co-op invites (at least she follows it up with ‘get well soon’ everytime anyway). This intruder, however, decided to sit on his bed. His wings fluttered in annoyance.
“Can’t you see I’m trying to rest here?” He snapped. “I would really appreciate it if you just keep leaving me alone.”
“By starving? Get over yourself. Aeons, do you shed feathers often?” The voice that retorted back belonged to a voice that he recognized almost immediately, someone that he happened to meet in Penacony. “I got you cake.”
He remains buried in the comforts of his blankets and scoffed. “I don’t want it. Help yourself out.”
“Robin insists.”
He immediately stood up and turned to the voice, wide-eyed. Firefly looked a bit surprised from his reaction, letting out a squeak as she moved aside. True to her words, she was holding a small round cake with strawberries decorated on top with a thin paper-covered package. Did this come from her? It must have been! He couldn’t believe it at first and scowled, half tempted to tell her off. What is she even to gain tormenting him like this?
“I’m serious. I’ve been… in contact with her.” She explained slowly.
“What did you say? What did she say?” Sunday’s certain that she wouldn’t compromise her identity just like that, even to Robin. He didn’t even know she was the Molten Knight until a few days back. But this would be the first time he could truly hear from her — really hear from her, from someone who had spoken to her and not on just some streaming service. Does she know where he is? Did she tell her?
“I didn’t say much, obviously. But I got her number from the Trailblazer.” He almost wanted to roll his eyes. Of course that damned Trailblazer who ruined everything for him has her number. “I talked to her about you.”
Irrelevant. “I don’t care about that. How is she?”
She sighed, as if expecting that kind of response from him. “Well. Could be a lot better. Your Family is a whole lot to deal with, but she handles it well. Y’know, with the whole thing you did to Penacony?” (She really didn’t have to rub that in.) “But the Nameless are lending their hand to help her through the matters with Penacony and the issues with the IPC. You know how they are.”
“The Nameless are very firm with their ideals of helping and change.” He commented, a little too sarcastic.
“Watch your tone. They’ve been very helpful to us.” Firefly shot back. “She told me that you liked sweets and particularly favored strawberries. Worried sick about you knowing that you fled before getting to Pier Point but firmly believes you’re alive.
She then lifts up the cake and extends it to him, almost like she was offering the olive branch. “I don’t have enough credits with me to get anything better than this but the others did help me pick. It’s sort of like — congratulations on your first mission.” Before Sunday could speak again, she added, “And if you don’t want to interpret it like that, just think of it as a gift from your sister. Since she shared that piece of information about you to me, after all.”
Sunday hesitated. Their treatment of him vastly differed from how he was treated back at the Oak Family. These Stellaron Hunters, despite their names being under the definition of criminal, looked out for each other in their own strange ways. It was thoughtful of them that he didn’t think there would ever be a time he’d know what it means to experience kindness from anyone other than his mother and sister. All his life, he was used for some grand scheme bigger than him and, by all means, he still willingly participated in it. But this was the first time other people went out of their way to treat him like an equal, like a friend that needed to be lent an ear.
He looked at the silver-haired girl with the cake in her hands, waiting for him to take it from her. He didn’t exactly expect anything from them from the get-go but it comes to a surprise whenever they do such things like this even for him. They’re literally all co-workers. He stared for a good moment before he took it gingerly and nodded sluggishly. “Thank you.”
The girl beamed, glad that he accepted the dessert, what would be the first food he eats days after his first mission. “Ah, I almost forgot!” She picked up the thin package and handed it over to him as well. “This is from Silver Wolf. She found this while we were buying you cake and —” She pressed her lips into a thin line as if stifling a snort. “You could go check and see.”
He nodded and mumbled his ‘thanks’ again so that she’d leave him to his own thoughts once more. He quickly wiped the tears that blurred his vision when he ate the cake piece by piece, remembering once before in a letter from Robin — back when he thought he had lost her — that had brought him sweets she knew he would enjoy. Even on her travels, she had thought of him and worried for him despite everything that he had done. Thinking about it made it rather difficult to swallow the chiffon.
They can’t meet yet. Not now, definitely not. But he hopes for that time to come, at least in some shape or form.
He looked over at the parchment that Silver Wolf had gotten him. He gently ripped the paper and immediately winced upon seeing what it was. It was a notebook, definitely — or maybe a diary that a teenager would want to have. It was a damn diary with a lock that had Robin on the cover. The fact it came with the pen felt worse. It’s such an explicit mockery of him that he doesn’t even know how to react. Just what even made Silver Wolf think this would be a good idea?
From all the welcoming gifts that he has received, the diary was by far, the most stupid one yet. But he kept it anyway, considering the thought that went with it.
Silver Wolf
Attachment sent.
Sunday
Why?
Silver Wolf
guessin u opened the package?
LMAO
btw i wanna ask
wait hokd on
Game Invite Sent.
Silver Wolf
anywayz
so since u finally replied
this has been bothering me 4 a while
do u eat birds
liek since u’re feathery 2
genuine question btw plz answer