Chapter Text
Phil was a being that understood that there wasn't all good in the world.
He understood just how intimately greed and powerlust could get its hooks into a person, corrupt them from the inside out before they even realized the person they'd turned into. It'd been harder for Phil then, alone and wandering a world full of barely-there presences, all which took an interest in him in some way, small or otherwise.
A lone man wandering a world that had been long abandoned, though still living in its own way... with the touch of so many distant figures, it'd been hard to differentiate the well-meaning from the ill-intentioned until far too late.
But he wasn't one to easily give up, even as whatever matter made him up was crushed under the weight of something entirely inhuman, it was also pieced back together in a similar way. With hands as soft as flower petals, and a breath as warm as a spring breeze, he found himself living anew. Now with a body that suited him better in different ways, and one that could meld into the greenery that encompassed the land around him as easily as breathing.
Hair of golden wheat, eyes of bluebells, skin akin to peach fuzz, pink and yellow and soft.
He lived alone for a long time after that, exploring freely as he pleased with Rose's guiding hand on one shoulder and Kristin's encouraging shove against the other. He took in fresh water and climbed along cliffsides and strolled along mountain tops and lived the only way he'd known how.
It was a little different now, watching from his perch as a man and his two children wove together messy strands of flowers into messier crowns, half-hidden by the pink shade of a cherry tree.
"There!" The little girl-Tallulah, Phil had learned- exclaimed, unceremoniously dropping her crown of blue and orange flowers on her brother's head. Chayanne only looked up briefly before returning to his own work; thoroughly and carefully threading rose vines along his wooden sword and frowning whenever a wayward thorn pricked him. "You look so pretty Chay!"
"And one for you too." Their father, Missa, added, dropping his own crown of pink and purple flowers onto his daughter's head, a little more structurally sound than either of the children's efforts. Tallulah beamed as she gently touched the flower crown, tilting her head back to allow Missa to plant a kiss to her cheek. "Alright you two, go play now, si? You need to get your energy out before bed or you're going to be up until midnight. Vamo, vamo!"
A small family, a father with two children, set up in a small house at the base of a mountain. It was sandwiched between a river, overlooking a grassy plain dotted with many flowers, and... well, perhaps it had just been the loneliness finally rearing up in Phil after so many years alone, or perhaps it was because it'd been so long since he'd seen any people like himself but. He found he couldn't quite bring himself to move on as quickly as he'd originally planned.
He watched as Missa watched the kids, Tallulah and Chayanne, running around the field after each other, wrestling each other to the ground, though Chayanne was far gentler on his end. Phil watched as a single pink petal flitted down from the tree, lodging into Missa's dark hair, and decided he'd had enough of watching.
It only took a few flicks of his fingers before a crown of his own was woven between his palms, limber branches with more of those pink blooms. He chortled lightly when Missa jumped as he slid down, settling himself against the cool grass beside the other man.
"Philza!" He exclaimed, his face lighting up with a broad smile as he reached to lightly bump his knuckles against Phil's bare upper arm. "You scared me, wey, popping out of the ground like a zombie. I thought- aren't you normally sleeping?"
"Nah." Phil said with a shrug- his ability to sleep was entirely different now, relying more on the weather patterns than actual night cycles, but. Well, even he hadn't quite nailed everything down just yet. He slept when he was tired, and he certainly wasn't tired now. "Nah, mate, I'm just hanging out. The crowns are cute."
"Yeah?" Missa said, glancing shyly down at the one Phil had set on his lap before looking at his kids, who had hunkered down in the tall grass so only the tops of their heads were visible. "Lullah likes them a lot, and Chayanne... Well, he likes to be tough, you know? Too tough for flowers, but... It's good for you to be around him, I think."
"What, because I'm fucking flower-man?" Phil laughed, his hair rustling stiffly in the slight breeze that blew past.
"Well, that and you know... I think you are better at teaching him how to fight than I am."
"Nah, you were doing a great job mate." Phil reassured. "I've got a couple more years on me than you do, that's all. You've been with them longer than I have."
"Pues... I'm glad you found us anyway." Missa said with a shrug, nonchalant as he could be. "It feels better with you around."
There was something about the way he looked when he caught Phil's eye though, that made something stir within Phil, enough so that he brought his hand out and dropped his crown of cherry blossoms down on Missa's head. He sputtered a bit, clearly surprised, but- the pink suited him, stood out starkly from his dark hair, a few stray petals landing gently across his shoulders and lap. He reached up just like Tallulah had, touching it gently.
"It's a good look for you, mate." Phil said with a grin, and Missa returned the smile easily.
"Right, now I just need to make-"
"Papa Philza!" Tallulah gasped, having apparently just realized that he was there. She ran over to him as quickly as her little legs could carry her, Chayanne close on her heels. "Apa's crown is so pretty! Can you teach me how to make one like that?"
"Well, it might be a little harder for you..." Phil hedged, looking over her crown before flicking his hand again, making little pink blossoms bloom alongside her purples ones. "But I'll tell you what, mate. I'll make one for you however you like, alright?"
"Yes!" She cheered, pumping her little fists as she twirled around, her skirt flaring out around her ankles. "Apa, now we're matching!"
"Que linda, mija." Missa cooed, his hands already working over some orange and purples flowers, slowly threading them into another crown. "Here, why don't you find some blue flowers for me, si? We can all be matching."
"I'll leave you to that, I think." Phil said, hefting himself upright and watching as Chayanne looked up at him expectantly, shifting from foot to foot, his flower crown already a mess of petals barely clinging to his hair. Phil grinned at him, reaching out a hand as a solid stick grew from his palm, and he tossed it Chayanne. "You up for a little sparring, mate? Leave the creation to the creatives?"
"Yes sir!" Chayanne said with a little salute, running a few feet away as Phil followed after him. He stumbled when Missa caught his arm, a slightly messy crown of purple orange and blue flowers in his hands, and a wide smile on his face.
"And where do you think you're going?" he chided playfully, quickly setting the crown on Phil's head. "I said I would make us all matching, right? Now you're beautiful like us!"
And as cute as it'd been watching Missa and Tallulah mirror each other when they'd received their crowns, Phil couldn't help but mimic the motion right alongside them, a fluttering warmth beating in his chest.