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Hard flurries of rain sprayed the exterior of the lighthouse.
The resounding noise of falling water whipped among the outside; landing in moist clumps of soggy grass, wetting the dark sand.
Overcast cumulus ran in grey patches, overcoming the early sky.
Long waves rolled and snapped at the bayside, lapping at damp shores.
Soul spun the interior of a wooden bowl; aimlessly shifting a cheap spoon through its contents, a simple attempt at a quick meal.
It's been a rough week for him.
Now, all of the sudden, two slabs of his own consciousness dispersed to his sides and now were under his watch and obedience, on a island off the coast of his initial dream city.
He wanted to be a musician.
He wanted to ecstatically tour the bars and auditoriums of New York City; blasting quality music through a goregous guitar, strumming passionately yet elegantly as excited folks sipped good beer and watched with eager ears.
That life seemed so far away now.
Life took a new form for him; bitten into two evil entities— unevil by nature, malicious through existence alone— of which roamed an island composed of spilt consciousness.
Curious things, they were. Brimming with questions, and confusion; simple feelings, simple analytical power.
Just yesterday, one had asked him how an insect could fly if it didn't have any feathers.
Another day, one had asked why, when it slept, it kept being teleported to other dimensions that it could hardly discern within the morning.
Soul had felt mixed by the nature of their existence.
There was the odd endearment; prominently overpowered by the resentment prompted by his own mental illness living among him and demanding answers to obvious questions.
Once his instant mashed potatoes concluded stirring, he pinched it between two hands and stepped off to eat in his room.
Before interrupted by a shrill yelp commoting the pleasant yet brief silence.
Frenetic hooves raced down the oak stairs, clattering as they went as the shape they had been connected to missed its grounding; pushing itself into a wall, letting out a small sob, and hoisting itself beyond the final flight with a stroke of its white wings.
“(S- SOUL!)” It wailed, hasting over to combine its arms with his torso.
“{Get—}” Soul recoiled, rejecting the sensation of skinny arms around his waist. “{I told you not to touch me.}”
“(I-I’m sorry,)” Heart apologised, releasing his body and beginning to bow his head. “(I- I’m really sorry, I-I’m just so scared.)”
“{Of what?}” Soul spoke, cross, grasping his bowl of food away from the half before it comprehended the concept of sharing. “{Did you discover what a spider was?}”
“(Th- The sky is screaming!)” Heart wailed, slamming his palms to his eyes as he wept; ugly whines emitting from toothy lips. “(Make it stop! I don’t like it when it’s mad at me!)”
“{Mad… at you?}” Soul cocked his head, donning an expression of annoyance yet permeated by blatant curiosity. “{Do you mean… the thunderstorm?}”
“(I- Is that its name?}” Heart sniffled, dragging his sleeve across his soggy eyes. “(I’m really really sorry for making Thunderstorm mad.)”
“{No, Heart…}” An awkward, vaguely amused smile with locked front teeth contained Soul’s expression as he stared at the potential dimwit. “{Heart, it's called a thunderstorm. Nothing is mad at you, it's… it's something the sky does when the water evaporates, and it gets too heavy in the clouds so it drops into a million pieces.}”
“(D- Does it hurt?)” Heart sniffled.
“{Heart, it's not alive. The sky doesn't care that it's raining, it doesn't even know that it's a sky. It can't think, nor can it feel. It's about as sentient as this bowl of mashed potatoes.}” Soul held up his dish to enunciate his meaning.
“(Oh…)” Heart said, eyes now lit by hunger. “(Does Thunderstorm want us to—)”
Another crash of thunder rippled through the sky, Soul having formerly tuned out the occasional sound until now. Heart squealed, shoving his face into his hands once more as he resumed weeping.
“{Heart, control yourself.}” Soul said, now entirely cross. “{I don't know if you're crying to be cute or something but you're being very annoying right now.}”
“(I don't know why Thunderstorm’s this mad!)” Heart sobbed, bundling his ears in his pale hands.
“{Heart, the sky is not named Thunderstorm. And I swear, to several holy beasts that made me have you and your brother, if you don't cut out this hysteria I’m going to lock you out there myself.}”
“(NO!)” Heart shrieked, gripping his face with quaking fingers. “(NO, NO, NO NO NO NO NO! NO NO NO!)”
“{Then cut it out.}” Soul snarled, a bite of bitterness snapping between clenched teeth.
Soul rounded the corner of the living room and seated himself on the shaggy sofa, turning one leg over the other as he stuffed his mouth with warm food.
Heart whimpered and babbled to himself in low vocalisations, interrupted by him licking his lips.
“(S- Soul, the sky tastes angry…)”
“{Again with the tasting nonsense?}” Soul sighed, pointing his face over to his insufferable emotional “well”being with an agitated gaze. “{I don't know what you’re apparently tasting when you do that, but I’m like ninety-nine percent sure you just don't know the difference between seeing or smelling and tasting.}”
“(No, I swear!)” Heart whimpered, his vaguely animal-like tongue dropping from his lips. “(I can taste things, everything has a really, really, REALLY strong taste! Wh- When I lick my lips, I can taste everything around me, and—)”
“{If I cared I would've asked you to continue.}” Soul grumbled, more potatoes entering the depths of his stomach. “{Go play with your brother.}”
“(H- He’s asleep.)”
“{Then go cuddle with him.}”
“(I-I don't wanna wake him up.)”
“{You won't.}”
“(But i- if I scream again then he’ll wake up.)”
“{Then it's not my problem.}” Soul said, eyes printing the contents of his phone to his brain in desperate need of an easy distraction.
Heart whimpered again, smothering his ears with tight palms as he attempted to muffle the sound of Thunderstorm’s wrath.
“(I- I’m sorry Thunderstorm…)” Heart muttered to himself.
“{Heart, enough. For the last time.}” Soul snarled.
Another boom of thunder wracked the billows of cumulus, and Heart screamed, thrashing his head as he shook it aggressively.
“{ALRIGHT, that's it.}” Soul snapped, lifting his body as he swiftly pulled himself beside Heart, then hoisting the half into a powerful grip beneath his arms by the waist.
“(NO! NO!)” Heart wailed, flailing his scrawny limbs and frantically flapping his wings in a useless attempt to fend off his Host. “(PLEASE DON’T TAKE ME TO THUNDERSTORM! PLEASE! TH- THEY’RE SO MAD AT ME!)”
Soul trailed to the door with a slam in each step, throwing it open and standing atop the oak deck with a squirming and squealing Heart wrapped behind his arms.
“{There. See? It's not hurting y—}”
“(LET ME GO! LET ME GO! STOP!)”
“{Heart, cut it out. It's just a stor—}”
“(THEY’RE TRYING TO DROWN ME! THUNDERSTORM’S TRYING TO DROWN ME!)”
“{It’s just rain. I told you, water evaporates, gets sent to the sky, then pours in pieces all over the gr—}”
“(THEY’RE SO MAD AT ME! THEY’RE SO MAD! THEY WANNA DESTROY EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF M—)” Heart made countless vicious (and slightly violent) attempts to wriggle out of Soul’s grip.
“{HEART. IF YOU DON’T GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF RIGHT N—}” Soul shouted as Heart then bit his arm and sprinted back inside; Soul not long after him.
“{HEART, GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT.}” Soul screamed up the stairs, the little ball of his emotions nigh a blur as he zipped up the tall stairs. “{Dandelions…}”
Soul marched up the thin wooden planks, each sliver of oak producing deep creaks and groans as he ascended hastily, then shoving the door to Heart’s room open.
“{HEART. You have no idea how mad I am at you right n—}”
The lids of his eyes broadened as they consumed the sight before him; a soft comforter crumpled and stretched over a quivering mound of anxious bones softly weeping beneath the sheets.
Soul’s peripheral commanded a closer look to the scene around him; a moderate mess thrown across the room, new clothes draped in unkempt clusters bitten into the floors of the space.
Stray sheets written with infantile doodles dotted the desks, some askew on the ground; furniture poorly organised in a clear misuse of interior design.
Soul, disappearing further into the area, then approached a small wooden structure with his eyes. Picking it up, he flipped every spot to look with his coarse fingers, taking in the attempt of creation.
It seemed to almost resemble a dollhouse; certainly a good try at slapping a mouth-shaped roof atop a poorly-sanded box beneath.
A little door awkwardly sawed in the front, seemingly with what seemed supposed to be a porch stuck on and smeared with wood glue.
Soul remembered his little ball of emotion had requested some blocks of wood and a few strange supplies. Was he… beginning an attempt at a hobby?
Soul had never once been interested in woodworking.
Had… had this thing, a form etched by deterioration, been developing individuality…?
At least when he started doodling, art was a hobby he'd displayed interest in previously.
The thought instantaneously haunted Soul. Perhaps now was not the time to think of it.
Soul neared the fluffy cot his half perched fearfully on, and seated himself beside him.
Smoothing the apex of the comforter’s mound with the back of his hand, he spoke; in the gentlest voice his ire could produce.
“A dollhouse, huh?”
Heart grew silent. Then, voice as light as a coat of frost, he ushered.
“(Y… yeah…)”
Soul smiled, a pang of warmth radiating through his tone.
“For your first time, after having only been in-existence for a week, you did pretty good, you know.”
Quiet. Before a thin rustle, prompted by a little head poking out from beneath the mound of blanket gazed up at him.
“(You… you really mean it?)” He whispered, eyes searching for any amount of genuinity.
“{I…}” That dollhouse looked like an outhouse made by an intoxicated raccoon. “I do. I really, really like it.”
Heart’s eyes begun to softly pour with happy tears. He nuzzled into Soul, giving his knee a swift lick.
“{H- Hey—}” Soul shuddered, before noticing a sharp shift in expression and shimmering down. “W… Warn me before you lick me, alright…? It… It’s taking some time getting used to some of your instincts.”
“(Sorry…)” Heart bowed his head. “(You taste like… plants. And thirstiness.)”
“I taste like thirstiness?” Soul snickered.
“(Yeah! When’s the last time you had a drink?)”
“I—” Soul paused. “Gosh, I… I dunno. I’ve had some soft drinks a few times, but…”
Soul really had to think there.
“I’ve had such… bad headaches, for the past few nights, I…” Shock overcame his gaze. “Could you… taste that I haven't drank anything?”
“(I think so,)” Heart tilted his head, his tongue drooping from his lips.
“I…” He almost looked… proud. “That’s… That’s really, really cool, Heart…”
“(It is?)” Heart lit up immediately, desperate for any morsel of approval from his Host.
“Y… Yeah. It…” Soul stared off. “That’s really cool that you can do that. When you said you could taste things really vividly, I thought you meant, like… I dunno… that you were confusing your senses. Maybe that you had synesthesia, or something. But…”
Long feathers peeling down Heart’s rear slowly begun to sway.
“That’s… that's so cool. I mean, it's a little weird, and I still don't really want you licking me, but…” Soul allowed himself a small smile. “That's really impressive. I… I don't know why you can do that, considering you're just half of my brain existing as a sentient person, but… it's almost like you're a superhuman with animal powers.”
“(Awww, shucks mate…)” Heart beamed, nuzzling more into Soul’s lap. “(Mind can do it, too! We’ve been helping each other learn about the world by sharing how things taste with each other.)”
“Like—” Concern. “{Like, you're saying them, right…? You're not— you're not tasting your brother’s tongue?}”
“(No?)”
“{Oh thank golden skies on a horizon…}” Soul breathed. “But… I’m really glad you two are getting along… Has he been doing well with the voice-piece-thingy?”
“(Yeah!)” Heart smiles. “(He’s starting to become as fluent as speaking as I am. He's… a little slow at it, but… I’m being patient. He really likes saying the word ‘[seafoam]'.)”
“Seafoam?” Soul snickered.
“(Yep! Seafoam!)” Heart smirked, then dropping his whole body onto Soul’s lap.
He’s… Kinda cute sometimes. Soul allowed himself to think. He’s… almost like a really big animal? Or… maybe like a messed-up alien child.
Still with a big stupid grin on his face, Heart closed his eyes; and allowed himself to dance away from consciousness in his head.
Soul had begun to just… sit there. And watch.
But he didn’t want his mashed potatoes to get cold…
Thinking intently, he quietly manifested his Trident; a singeing buzz coursing the air.
He pointed it above Heart’s arms, and expanded a small stuffy out of thin air.
A little snapping turtle.
After all, Heart claimed himself to be the self-proclaimed “(number one snapping turtle fan)” after watching a documentary on the telly and believing that the snapping turtle in-particular was a celebrity, and not a random animal.
“{Oh, Heart…}” Soul whispered, softly scritching the deep corner of the half’s chin with his finger.
He then placed the stuffy into his arms, and walked off to go munch on his food.
Descending the stairs, he then realised:
Mind.
It would be unfair to leave him without a little buddy, too.
Treading to Mind’s room, whom was also fast asleep (seemingly, halves really liked sleeping, at least as babies), and summoned a small toy car; then tucking it into Mind’s splayed arms.
It wasn't long until the little thing swarmed it in his arms, touching it with a few short nuzzles.
Looks like it was accepted into the family.
Satisfied, Soul went off to finish his mashed potatoes; delighted to discover they were still mildly warm.
Even better, it seems Heart had stopped reacting to the storm. He wondered why that could be…
Oh well.
Maybe this existence was surmisable.