Chapter Text
There is something incredibly inhuman, Life thinks, about gods.
It seems obvious. They’re not human- of course they’re not. She’s watched her two (captors? Saviours? Friends?) live their lives for close to two years now- she knows that better than anyone. June and Cookie (who names their children June and Cookie?) are too vivid, too powerful, to ever be human. They’re just… off, uncanny, in the way they mimic what a human is.
June’s teeth are too sharp. Cookie’s pupils are… rectangular, weirdly enough. And they’re both too bright.
Their eyes glow in the darkness. Their hair is electric, cyan and green, like no colour she’s ever seen before. (This one, they tell her, will become quite common in the future. Life… isn’t sure how to feel about that one.) And they shimmer, the way all magical things do, gold and green and every colour under the sun.
They are terrifying, and they are kind, and they contradict everything Life knows about the world.
She watches them, now, from the corner of what they have dubbed ‘the throne room’. They’re invested in something Cookie calls a ‘video game’- some sort of combination of light and magic. The reins for the strange machine they call a ‘tee vee’ are clutched in their hands as they laugh, trying to beat ‘Mario Kart.’ She hopes they defeat Mario Kart, and he stays stuck in the ‘tee vee’ prison forever. He does not seem like a very nice guy, especially with all the words they’ve called him over the last few hours.
In moments like these, they seem almost… like her. But then they will shift, and that shimmer will return, bringing with it a promise of death. Every time Life looks at them, some long buried instinct will tell her to run.
Cookie and June are wrong, in the way that they don’t quite fit into the world she knows, like a puzzle piece with an extra tab. And, she supposes, she just has to live with that.
After all, Life doesn’t fit into that world, either.
There is something incredibly inhuman, Nine decides, about gods.
They are cruel. Callous. Using humans as their playthings, as nothing more than entertainment. False words and promises given under the facade of kindness. He thinks of Cookie’s too-bright green eyes, and he wants to scream.
Nine is only a puppet in their game, and he wants nothing more than to leave.
“I’m sorry.” Cookie had said. “I can’t let you go. I can’t. It’s an old spell, the one that brings you here- and it isn’t one I can get rid of. I would if I could.”
If Cookie couldn’t- wouldn’t- get him out of this hellscape, then fine. He would do it himself.
And he did! It worked great!
Until the theorists betrayed him. And the government showed up. And he got put in jail.
Now, nobody will look him in the eye. And- fine. He just has to rebuild that trust. If he’s stuck here, he’s going to at least try and have fun.
But the gods he is trapped here with are cruel. Well, no. That’s not fair to Cookie. He had a feeling that she had been telling the truth, all that time ago.
But Paige…
Immature was one way to put it. She didn’t care about the consequences of her actions, and Star just went along for the ride, enabling her, letting her hurt people left and right. Maybe Nine deserved it, but Avis, and Mary, and Nirvan? They didn’t.
Sharp glares and bared teeth sent her way are enough to get her to back off- for now. Nine knows there’s immeasurable power hiding behind her glowing pink gaze, and he’s just waiting for the moment she decides to use it.
So he hides. For now. Like a coward- he’s always been a coward, really, and hiding from what she might do is the safest option. After all, Nine quite likes living, even if he’s stuck in magic-hell. And he’d like to keep doing that.
There is something incredibly human, Dove knows, about gods.
She watches Cookie, from where they both hover, staring at the ocean, where a boat and a friend were only a moment before. Lightning’s missiles were as effective as he had said- but they weren’t meant to find out this way.
Cookie’s eyes are empty, searching the fuchsia tinted sea for any sign that maybe, maybe he made it out. Maybe he wasn’t an eldritch, after all- maybe that was an illusion, sent by Metallica. It seemed like the sort of sick thing he would do.
But Dove already knew the answer, deep inside. And she had a feeling Cookie did, too.
“…did you just-” Cookie starts, spinning around to stare at the faint shadow of where the culprit lurks, horrified, in his ship.
Slowly, she flies down, landing on the deck of the Ophiotaurus with an expression on her face Dove had only seen a few times before. She lands slightly behind Cookie, watching her.
Behind them, Life still hovers, green-gold eyes searching, looking for something, as if she’ll find Nine hiding among the crew on the ship.
“I- I don’t think he was an eldritch.” Life gasps, trying to find some sort of way to thwart fate, some sort of way that he could have possibly survived that explosion.
Cookie spins around. “Did you see that beast form, Life?” She demands, voice as hollow as her usually bright eyes.
“Fuck. Yeah- true.” The angel concedes.
“That can’t NOT be a-” she pauses, running her hands through her scalp. Dove watches her, through her gossamer thin veil, as she grieves.
Gods, in general, live for eternity. There are a few exceptions, but gods live for far, far longer than any mortal ever will- even the parkatos, enhanced as they are.
Cookie has already lived for hundreds of years. She has seen death before. She’s experienced it.
But, Dove thinks, even after losing people over and over, it doesn’t get any easier.
The crowd gathered on the ship is silent. The one with long blue hair isn’t breathing. One of the parkatos in Lightning’s suit has already dived off, into the water, swimming over to where Nine had been, only a minute before.
Paige is frozen where she stands, pink eyes the colour of the ocean beneath them, and just as cold.
Gods aren’t human, but even so- their emotions are stronger than any human’s ever will be. Their grief.
And isn’t that the most human thing of all?