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pa • the • tic
— having a capacity to move one to either compassionate or contemptuous pity.
— marked by sorrow or melancholy ; sad.
— pitifully inferior or inadequate.
— an adorable young woman, ripe with the inability to stand up for herself.
❤︎ ocho —
The headquarters were lively this hour. V4 could hear it. From loud, howling arguments in the hallways, to laughter from the mess hall, with blaring music that somehow made its way known by echoing through every crevice of the CKV headquarters. It was a rare period of downtime for the company; a grand mission was postponed—unexpectedly so—because of a heavy dimensional instability, where all revenants became temporarily confined to V1’s liminal realm for several days. Precious time was lost; V1 buried herself in reports, V2 became restless and almost erratic—something heartbreaking for V4—while V3 did nothing but sleep constantly, letting his narcoleptic episodes take hold of him, and V4, for once, had nothing to do.
Lucidna V4 felt aimless; she had no orders, no mission, nor any semblance of a crisis case in need of resolving. Perhaps that in of itself was a crisis. She swept the suite floor—where her squadron and makers stayed—of the headquarters, this being her third time doing so. She didn’t know what else to do. The hardwood floors glistened with fresh wax that she had polished twice over. Before this, she had washed every single dish materialized into existence by D4, even if they were already cleaned. She even took the time to sanitize all the countertops and get rid of bloodstains, hoping someone would notice, maybe, and would at least thank her. As while every other revenant took this opportunity as a break or an excuse to party, she felt claustrophobic, stuck within the very walls she was forced to clean.
It didn’t take Lucidna long before she finished cleaning the foyer, and she moved on to their shared rooms. Her digital display lit up the dim room of hers and Aubrey V1’s, and she felt that familiar wave of nostalgia wash over her. She refolded their contrasting clothes that remained stacked around their cramped twin-sized beds, reorganizing Aubrey’s jewelry—from her choker sets, to her necklaces—and tidying up her own plushie collection. One of them—a white, fluffy duck—wore an old spiked choker from Aubrey. Lucidna giggled to herself, a high-pitched—almost mewling—noise, petting the plush with a hand after removing her latex gloves. This was merely a short stop by; she made a note to come back again later after washing their linens.
She hoped Aubrey would appreciate her finding another use for things that would otherwise be thrown away. In fact, she hoped everyone who knew her did. For Lucidna had a little secret.
As she moved on, leaving her room, Lucidna ran into G4, Ocarina Delphine, and G1, Aneare Mondragon. Ocarina, in particular, held a decently large box, trailing alongside Aneare. Lucidna almost stumbled—trying to stop herself from actually running into the two—as she carried her cleaning supplies with both hands, but Aneare caught her with a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Ay, kikiki! Little Miss Lulu, Lulu, what’s got you so ba—busy?” Ocarina spoke cheerfully, her words somewhat infiltrated by her tics as her expression scrunched.
“A-Ah… G1, g-greetings … a-and G4, y-you.. too..” Lucidna stammered, bowing her head, with her cleaning supplies taking a tilt forward. Her voice was soft like fresh cotton, and as quiet as a young cat prowling in the night.
Aneare didn’t speak just yet, only removing their hand and crossing their arms as they sized her up, thin ribbons of smoke escaping both sides of their ornate face mask.
Meanwhile, Ocarina’s head twitched as she spoke, a wide grin that narrowed her eyes was upon her face; clearly, she had a burst of energy today, with how frequently her tics were acting up. “Luci, you need no for—formality with me, sugar.”
Lucidna bit the inside of her cheek, something covered by her medical face mask; she shrank in on herself. Lucidna was never the best at socializing, let alone being friendly. Ocho told her so, said she stumbled too much over her words, and so on. Still, they were both being so kind to her; she just had to try.
“Um… a-ah, o-okay, okay. I… w-will …take nh-note of that.” She relaxed eventually, her shoulders sagging under the weight of everything she held. “I-I, um, …how are y-you ..t-two?”
Aneare huffed, more puffs of smoke escaping themself. “Fine. We were… just on our way to the head office,” they spoke with a drawl, really dragging out their vowels carefully, like a wise old man. Except Aneare was only 45; Lucidna knew that, but they didn’t. It was yet another perk of being part of the V squad, the first-ever revenant squadron to exist. Lucidna didn’t often feel privileged, though, not with all the work she took up.
“Yeah—yeah—I’m carryin’ doc—documents! We re—replannin’ and all.” Ocarina nodded, a sharp whistling noise escaping her, causing Lucidna’s ears to perk up in sharp triangles pointing to the ceiling. Ocarina laughed, eyes lighting up at the sight. “Aren’t you just a cute cat, sugar!”
Lucidna’s display for eyes went flushed as cartoonish slashes appeared upon her screen. She buried herself in her cleaning supplies—clutching them close to herself—as her ears then flattened against her head. “Y-You dh-don’t mean that…” she said bashfully.
Aneare, meanwhile, was restlessly tapping their foot in impatience. Ocarina noticed this, and yet another whistle escaped her. “C’mon, ‘Neare we have all—all day! There ain’t no rush to this—shitty—shit, let a girl chat a little.”
Lucidna, on the other hand, shook her head. Recalling that she still wants to reorganize V2’s—Ocho’s accessories, especially looking forward to sorting them by color and material.
“Ah, um, n-no.. s-sorry, sorry to interrupt, b-but… I also really n-need to be g-going soon…” (,,>﹏<,,)
“Then, we both shall be on our way.” Aneare nodded.
Ocarina, conversely, pouted in response, her features momentarily tensing. “Aw, well—well. I WILL be seeing you la—la—later, girl!”
Lucidna let out a soft sigh of relief, barely able to hold it in, her words being just as much of a squeak. “T-Thank you! U-Um, I l-look forward to th-that..”
Then, Ocarina and Aneare moved on—with Ocarina still being a bounding bundle of energy, whistling and all—leaving Lucidna to make her way slowly over to Ocho V2 and Aefik V3’s quarters.
The wooden door creaked open to reveal an absolute mess. Lucidna knew the two weren’t the most well-kempt, but that didn’t stop her from often feeling dismayed by the sight. Cans of beer littered the floor alongside obscene magazines, plastic wrappers, used, wrinkled clothes of their own, and clothes that didn’t even look like they’d belong to the two. The air was a little stale—after all, they had no windows—save for the subtle hint of Ocho’s signature scent: a warm vanilla. Despite it all, it left Lucidna a little breathless. It was all uniquely Ocho, and she adored him, loved him with all her heart. She appreciated how he’d let her clean. She needed to, after all. Lucidna didn’t care for the many times her heart ached because of him. Those were all forgivable mistakes; they were mistakes she could clean up. She needed to.
Aefik was bundled up in bed, blankets and old shirts draped over him in the corner of the room; he curled in on himself, snoring softly. Lucidna had to be careful not to disturb him. She appreciated his constant company, but sometimes he was a little too much for her. Too much in … affection. That’s how Lucidna would put it. They just had a kind of connection. Ocho saw nothing wrong with it; in fact, Ocho oddly supported it. So, Lucidna couldn’t protest against it. Not when it’s her boyfriend’s best friend. Besides, there was a rush that came with it. … Perhaps Ocho was just making sure she had her own slice of fun in life.
Lucidna slowly stepped into the room, setting her cleaning supplies onto Ocho’s bed before trying her best to unfold a plastic trash bag quietly, before slipping trash into the bag with practiced ease. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the metallic rustling—no matter how soft—to wake Aefik regardless. Lucidna was hunching over a pile of odd garbage in Ocho’s corner when Aefik stirred from his sleep, the demon getting up at a snail’s pace and tossing the blankets to the floor, along with the clothes that draped over him. The action made a clattering sound as cans rolled against the floor, startling Lucidna.cShe let out a yelp, jolting up immediately as her ears turned to the source of the noise. For a moment that stretched on longer than counted, Lucidna didn’t move, too embarrassed and ashamed to.
“Luci?” His voice was rough with sleep, and a yawn followed soon after his call.
Lucidna’s shoulders sagged as she let go of the trash bag. Hesitation ensnared her tightly for a moment, and she swallowed dryly before turning; her digital display shifted expression, and a bright, cheery smile appeared.
Despite it all, her voice still wavered greatly. “Hh.. H-Hi, A-Ah.. A-Aefi.” ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
A mere turn in his direction—away from the corner of the room—lit up the entire space with how dark everything was. Aefik grumbled, putting up a hand to block out the light from Lucidna’s screen. Lucidna immediately dimmed it down, pouting under her mask. He must hate her now.
“Fuck, my eyes … you know how dark this room is, Luce.” Aefik rubbed his eyes, heavily sighing.
“A-Ah… S-Sorry, sorry. I-I just…” (◞ ‸ ◟ || )
“Nah, it’s fine, … I’m glad you stopped by. What’re you up to?”
“I-I’m … c-cleaning.”
“Again? Luce. You know you don’t have to clean up after everyone, right?”
Aefik got off the bed, stumbling over clutter as he spoke.
“B-But … wh-what else do I-I do..?”
Aefik paused, his hand hung in the space between them; Lucidna noticed and tilted her head in curiosity. In response, Aefik slowly put his hand on the top of Lucidna’s head, flattening her laced headband and ears.
“Nothing. You just gotta … chill for once.”
Lucidna couldn’t help but purr upon gentle impact; feeling Aefik thread his rough, warm palm into her hair felt relaxing. Even if it messed up her hair. Aefik stifled a laugh, finding her adorable.
Aefik was always entranced by this certain allure Lucidna had. It wasn’t beauty in the conventional sense—though Aefik definitely believed that she was beautiful, in the same way that shattered stained glass caught light—but rather the sincerity, ever so fragile, carried in everything she did. Even now, standing in the middle of his and Ocho’s disaster of a room with a trash bag right behind her, Lucidna looked less like someone cleaning and more like someone desperately trying to justify their existence.
The room remained dark aside from the dim glow of Lucidna’s faceplate, soft enough now that it no longer hurt Aefik’s eyes. From where he stood—still heavy with sleep and half covered in wrinkles from where he’d been passed out among blankets and discarded clothes—he could see the subtle tremor in Lucidna’s hands. Lucidna leaned into his touch unconsciously, shoulders finally relaxing after what must have been hours of restless movement. She looked relieved he wasn’t angry. Relieved in a way that made his chest ache unpleasantly. Aefik’s hand remained resting on her head longer than necessary, fingers absentmindedly combing through strands of her hair. He could feel the faint vibration of her purr against his palm. It made him snort under his breath. Cute. Pathetically cute. She should get her voice box checked, Aefik thought. Ocho must be stressing her out a lot … making her yowl, and … Aefik dismissed the thought. She was the kind of cute that made him want to drag a blanket over her shoulders and lock her away from the rest of the CKV before someone harsher than him got their hands on her for too long.
“Mmh…” She lowered her head slightly. “S-Sorry if I-I woke you…”
“You didn’t.” He lied easily.
Aefik’s eyes drifted towards the half-full trash bag near Lucidna’s feet. And then lower. There, beside the pile she had been sorting through, sat a small, organized stack she clearly hadn’t intended to throw away, all in a bucket. Cigarette cartons flattened carefully at the corners, old mission receipts, still pink, folded into tiny squares, a fraying ribbon. Tiny things. Not tossed carelessly into the bucket, but handled often. Preserved carefully. Aefik stared for a second too long, his expression dulled slightly as realization settled in, and Lucidna noticed immediately.
Her LCD face flickered. ( . . )
Then once more, with panic. (ʘ _ ʘ)
“A-Ah—n-no, no, i-it’s not trash, I-I mean—” She dropped to her knees so quickly it startled him. “I-I wasn’t stealing, I j-just thought maybe—maybe I-I could keep some because y-you all d-don’t need them anymore and I-I know it’s stupid b-but—”
“Luce.”
She froze.
The room fell quiet except for the distant hum of ventilation systems somewhere beyond the walls. Aefik crouched down slowly in front of her, elbows resting against his knees while he looked at the pile she was trying so hard to hide. Up close, he could see the static fuzzing softly at the edges of her screen from stress. Lucidna looked away immediately.
“Why d’you have all this?”
“I-I don’t k-know…” (*/□＼*)
“Bullshit.”
His response wasn’t cruel, just straight to the point. It made Lucidna swallow hard. Her fingers tightened around the bucket’s handle until it began bending slightly beneath her grip. Aefik couldn’t help but peer into the bucket further, noticing a cigarette carton—faded in a spot perfect enough to fit a thumb—Aefik recognized it instantly; it was one of his old brands from years ago, before Chi banned him from smoking inside the executive halls after he’d nearly set off the sprinklers, and by extension, Aubrey.
“…I-I just…” Lucidna hesitated, screen dimming faintly. “I-I like k-knowing … that th-things happened.”
Aefik said nothing at first, and the sentence hung heavily in the room. Lucidna’s ears folded lower the longer the silence stretched, and she rushed to fill it anxiously. “I-It’s s-stupid, I know—I-I know it’s w-weird t-to keep … t-trash, I-I just…” Her voice softened, more than it already was, getting smaller by the syllable. “S-Sometimes… I get scared I-I imagined e-everything.”
That made Aefik pause. That woke him up more than any rustle or rattle of cans in a trash bag. Because suddenly all that clutter in the bucket made horrible sense, more than before. It wasn’t obsession, nor compulsion, but evidence, proof. A frayed ribbon like the ones she wore, it was definitely something Ocho discarded after tying her hair into those signature pigtails. It meant Ocho touched her gently once, treated her with care. A broken clasp from Aubrey’s jewelry meant they trusted her enough to hand it over. A mission receipt meant everyone returned alive that day.
It was all tiny remnants. Tiny confirmations she existed alongside revenants.
Aefik slowly reached forward, brushing his hand against hers, and reaching into the bucket before picking up the cigarette carton. Lucidna looked mortified immediately, shoulders tightening as though expecting ridicule, but instead, he turned it over carefully between two fingers. The edges were softened from age, clearly handled often.
“You’ve kept this one for a while, huh?”
Lucidna’s display shifted into a miserable little expression. She nodded. (◞‸◟ㆀ)
“…I-It still s-smelled like y-you.”
Gods. Something in Aefik’s chest twisted violently at that. He leaned back against Ocho’s bed frame with a low exhale, dragging a hand down his face while Lucidna sat rigidly across from him like she was awaiting punishment. But all Aefik could think about was how devastatingly little it took for her to feel loved. How everyone around her left pieces of themselves behind unknowingly, while Lucidna treated each one like sacred proof that she had mattered to them, even briefly.
His gaze drifted again toward the small collection, softer this time. He noticed things now he hadn’t before: cracked fragments from Lucidna’s own shattered faceplates wrapped carefully in cloth, handwritten notes with smeared ink, broken figurines, and bullet casings. Some looked years old.
“…You keep everybody,” Aefik murmured finally.
Lucidna looked up slowly. “Wh-What?”
“You keep pieces of everyone you love.”
The words struck her silent. Aefik could practically see the realization settling into her posture in real time, as though she herself had never consciously understood why she hoarded these remnants. She looked down at the objects in her lap almost helplessly afterwards, staring at them with faint horror and affection all at once.
“…I-I don’t want to forget them.”
Aefik’s expression faltered. Because beneath the anxiety, beneath the compulsive cleaning, trembling smiles, stuttered sentences, and desperate usefulness, there was the real fear living inside Lucidna all along; it wasn’t abandonment. It was erasure. The fear that one day everyone would disappear, and she would have nothing left to prove they had ever loved her at all.
“Jesus Christ, Luci…” His voice softened after that. “You really keep every piece of love anyone gives you, huh?”
kept
— to watch over and defend.
— to take care of.
— to be faithful to
— me, in her pitiful, pathetic, little heart.
❤︎ ocho —
Time stretched on as Lucidna went silent, peering into the bucket in her lap as she remained deep in thought. It was a shattering realization for her. She continued to sit there quietly after Aefik’s words, hands folded carefully in her lap while the room settled back into stillness around them. Somewhere far down the executive halls, pipes groaned through the walls of the CKV headquarters, and the faint buzz of fluorescent lighting filled the silence where conversation had died. Her screen remained dimmed, the little expression on it unreadable now aside from the occasional flicker of static. She looked down at the old cigarette carton still sitting beside Aefik instead of being hidden away with the others.
Pieces of everyone you love.
The sentence replayed in her head unpleasantly. Not because it was wrong, but because it was so right, a sharp truth.
Lucidna’s fingers curled against her skirt. Suddenly, she felt childish, exposed, like Aefik had pulled open a drawer she’d kept hidden, even from herself, and calmly pointed to its contents without judgement. Somehow, that lack of cruelty made it worse. If he had laughed at her, mocked her, or at least called her creepy, she could’ve endured it easier. Instead, he had understood her immediately. And that made her want to disappear.
“…Th-Thank you,” she finally murmured, soft as ever.
Aefik lifted an eyebrow. “For what?”
“F-For.. nh-not being mean…”
His expression twisted faintly, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or look upset. In the end, he just rubbed the back of his neck with a tired sigh.
“Your standards are fucking awful, Luce.”
Her screen shifted into a tiny, embarrassed smile. (˶′◡‵˶)
The silence that followed afterwards was gentler now, less suffocating. Eventually, she glanced up hesitantly.
“…A-Am I allowed t-to go bh-back to .. cleaning?”
Aefik stared at her for a long, hard time. She was doing it again. Her and her routines, her need for permission, her need for purpose. Lucidna looked genuinely anxious, asking him like that, like being told to stop would leave her standing in the middle of some endless, empty hallway with no clue what to do next. Aefik understood that feeling better than he liked admitting. He pushed himself upright with a grunt.
“Yeah, whatever.” He grabbed his jacket off the floor. “Just don’t overdo it.”
“I-I won’t.”
“Liar.”
Lucidna let out a tiy nervous laugh while Aefik stepped over the clutter towards the door. Before leaving, he paused briefly beside her, eyes drifting towards the bucket in her lap once more. He wanted to say something reassuring, something useful, but comfort had never sat naturally in his mouth. So instead, he muttered:
“Keep the carton.”
Then he left for the balcony halls to smoke.
Lucidna sat still for several seconds after the door shut behind him. Then, slowly and carefully, she placed the carton back into the bucket. Keep. The word warmed something strange inside her chest. Eventually, she then resumed cleaning. The remainder of the task passed quietly, almost peacefully, now that the panic had ebbed from her system. She gathered trash into bags, folded scattered clothes into even piles, wiped grime from Ocho’s vanity mirror, and organized loose makeup containers along with accessories by material and color—despite knowing Ocho would destroy the arrangement within hours. By the time she finished throwing out the bags, the room still looked messy—it always would—but manageable enough that Lucidna could breathe easier inside it.
Only then did exhaustion begin settling into her ball-jointed limbs.
The bucket in her hands clinked softly as she carried it—along with the rest of her cleaning supplies—through the executive halls towards her room, the contents shifting with every careful step. The corridors beyond the V squad’s quarters remained bright as usual, lined with red emergency strips, and endless reflective flooring that made every figure look vaguely ghostlike. Lucidna kept her gaze lowered while walking, pigtails swaying with each step. Until a voice suddenly rang out nearby, that is.
“LUCI!!”
Lucidna was startled so violently that the bucket nearly slipped from her hands.
Ocarina barreled towards her down the hall with all the energy of a collapsing tidal wave, heels clacking loudly against the floors. Her bright jewelry jingled with every movement, impossible to ignore against the blank white halls of the CKV. “There you are!” Ocarina groaned dramatically, throwing her arms into the air. “Girl, I’ve been lookin’ EVERYWHERE for ya!”
Lucidna’s displayed eyes blinked rapidly in response before shifting to a confused expression. “O-Oca…?”
“Yeah, duh.” Ocarina leaned forward slightly, pouting. “It’s like you vanished. I thought Chi killed you or somethin’.”
“S-Sorry…”
“Nah, don’t be.” Ocarina waved dismissively before grinning brightly. “C’mon, sit with me for a bit? I’m bored out of my mind.”
Lucidna hesitated. She really wanted to return to her room, but Ocarina was smiling at her so openly already, and Lucidna had always struggled to refuse anyone who seemed excited to see her. So, eventually, she nodded.
The executive lounge was mostly empty this late into downtime hours, save for the distant conversations near the bar and the low hum of old televisions mounted against the walls. Ocarina sprawled herself across one side of a couch almost immediately, while Lucidna perched delicately at the edge of another seat nearby, carefully resting the bucket beside her feet.
Ocarina talked enough for the both of them. About missions, about G Squad drama, about how Bexxy had electrocuted another revenant, again, and especially about how a bartender in the slums was flirting with her badly enough that she almost felt insulted. Lucidna listened quietly, nodding along where best appropriate. Occasionally, she laughed softly; occasionally, her screen lit up with tiny expressions or reaction images, but little by little, Ocarina noticed the way Lucidna’s attention kept drifting downward towards the bucket beside her legs. And, eventually, curiosity won.
“What’s even in there, anyways?”
Lucidna immediately stiffened. “N-Nothing.”
That answer alone guaranteed Ocarina would look, and before Lucidna could stop her, Ocarina leaned over the armrest and peered directly into the bucket with shameless curiosity. For one horrifying second, Lucidna stopped functioning entirely; her entire body locked up. The display of her face froze mid-expression while panic flooded through her so violently it hurt. Suddenly, she was aware of every item sitting visibly inside: the flattened cartons, frayed ribbons, broken scraps, and mission receipts. Pathetic little relics piled together like some mournful shrine.
Humiliation burned through her. “O-Oh, Gods —”
“WAIT.” Ocarina suddenly reached down into the bucket.
Lucidna’s stomach—if she had a real one—felt like it could’ve dropped instantly. When Ocarina pulled her hand back out, she was holding a tiny dolphin figurine covered in a glittering blue paint. “Oh, my GODS!” Ocarina lit up immediately. “Lulu, this is where it went?”
Lucidna stared silently.
“I’ve been lookin’ for this forever!” Ocarina laughed, turning the figure over in her hands, glitter already falling from it in small sprinkles. “Dude, I thought Null stole it.”
Lucinda’s ears lowered slowly.
“…S-Sorry.”
“Huh?” Ocarina looked up.
“I-I ..found it after m-maintenance week…” Lucidna’s voice shrank smaller with every word. “I-I thought it was p-pretty so I-I kept it…”
Ocarina blinked once.
Then grinned. “Well, thanks for findin’ it!”
Lucidna felt her chest cave inwards quietly. Because there it was, of course. She watched Ocarina hold the figure fondly between her fingers, already reclaiming it without cruelty or hesitation. The excitement in Ocarina’s voice wasn’t malicious at all, which made the disappointment settling inside her all the more harder to justify. She knew she had no right to feel possessive over it, but still, the tiny ache remained, like something being gently plucked from between her ribs.
“…Y-Yeah,” Lucidna murmured.
After that, the conversation became harder. Ocarina kept talking for a while, though gradually her voice slowed as she noticed Lucidna responding less and less. The brightness faded from Lucidna’s screen, her answers shortened, and she no longer looked up as much. Eventually, Ocarina tilted her head slightly.
“…You okay?”
“Mhm.” A lie so transparent even Lucidna sounded unconvinced.
Ocarina looked down at the figurine in her hand, then back towards the bucket beside Lucidna’s feet, and realization slowly crossed her face. “Oh.”
Lucidna immediately looked away.
Ocarina’s expression softened awkwardly afterwards, not mocking, nor disgusted, just uncertain now, like she had just stepped on something fragile without meaning to.
“…I should prolly head back,” Ocarina said, eventually, quieter this time.
Lucidna nodded once. “B-Bye, Ocarina.”
“See ya, sugar.” The figurine disappeared into Ocarina’s pocket as she left.
Lucidna sat alone in the lounge afterwards for several minutes without moving, then, slowly, she reached down and pulled the bucket closer against herself. The remaining contents clinked softly inside.
bro • ken
— having undergone or been subjected to fracture.
— not working properly.
— not kept or honored.
— her heart, her spirit, and soon her mind.
❤︎ ocho —
Lucidna eventually left the lounge, hurriedly making her way to her room, desperate for a sense of respite. She thought for once that she could be both vulnerable and …as normal as every other revenant. Unfortunately, life often had other plans for Lucidna, and this wasn’t the first time. By the time Lucidna had finally returned to her room, the exhaustion sitting inside her body had curdled into something heavier. It wasn’t exactly real physical exhaustion—revenants barely experienced that properly anymore—but the strange emotional fatigue that came after being perceived for too long. Lucidna was grateful for the silence. She slipped inside her room carefully, shutting the door behind herself with the softest click possible, like even the walls deserved gentleness.
Her room wasn’t sterile compared to most of the executive sector; it was lived in, with shelves organized obsessively, though little things betrayed her habits upon closer inspection: folded ribbons tucked into porcelain bowls, stacks of old receipts bundled carefully with thread, tiny labeled boxes pushed beneath furniture. A cluttered set of relics for her heart, yet nothing displayed openly enough to invite ridicule, it was just enough that the room felt full rather than empty.
Lucidna set the bucket down beside her bed and immediately moved towards routine before her thoughts could catch up to her. Cleaning helped, organizing helped. Tasks made the noise in her head quieter. She realized she had completely forgotten to bring in fresh linens to change Aubrey’s and her bedsheets. She’d have to use her abilities for this one. She couldn’t just not follow routine after all. It was a necessary evil, regardless of how tired she was.
So she began changing the linens. The old sheets peeled away from the mattress in practiced motions while she duplicated fresh fabric from a mere thread with a gloveless hand. Smooth white replacements unfurl neatly over the bedframe. It was mechanical work, mindless and comforting. Until something slipped loose from the tangled blankets and landed softly against the floor.
A bowtie.
Lucidna froze instantly. The world seemed to narrow around the object lying near her platform heels. It was red silk, slightly wrinkled. Familiar.
Ocho’s.
For several seconds, she simply stared. Her circulation system skipped so violently she thought her nervous system had glitched. “…O-Oh.” Her voice came out barely audible.
Slowly and carefully, Lucidna crouched down and picked it up with both hands like something fragile enough to break. The silk was still faintly warm from being buried beneath the blankets. Or maybe she imagined that part. Regardless, her screen flickered uncertainly while thoughts immediately began spiraling through her head in tangled, painful loops.
He left it here.
Did he do that on purpose?
Did he forget?
Would he notice if it disappeared forever?
He did things like that sometimes. Little traps. Little tests. Objects ‘accidentally’ forgotten in her room, only for him to ask later whether she kept them. Sometimes he laughed when she admitted yes, sometimes he looked frighteningly pleased by it. Lucida could never tell when Ocho was being cruel and when he was being sincere. Maybe it was both. The thought alone made her chest ache. Without thinking, she pulled down her mask and pressed the lower part of her faceplate, clutching it close enough that the silk wrinkled faintly in her grip. It smelled like him—expensive perfume layered over cigarette smoke and something sweet rotting beneath it all, warm vanilla. Familiar enough that her body relaxed on instinct. Gods. She felt pathetic.
Lucidna slowly sank down onto the edge of the bed, still holding the tie tightly against herself while static fuzzed softly across the edges of her screen. The room remained silent except for the faint crackling of electronics beneath her synthetic skin. She curled inwards gradually, knees drawing closer to her chest.
Ocarina took what was hers back.
The thought surfaced suddenly and painfully. Of course, she did, because objects belonged to people, and Lucidna was only borrowing moments that had never really been hers to keep. Her grip tightened around the bowtie.
This one would go back too.
Something inside her twisted hard enough that she almost wished she could cry properly. Instead, tiny, distorted sniffles escaped her speaker in uneven bursts while her faceplate dimmed low. Then, the door burst open.
“Luci, baby, have you seen my —” Ocho stopped mid-sentence.
The room fell silent instantly. Lucidna jerked upright in horror, still clutching the bowtie against herself, like she’d been caught committing some humiliating crime. Her screen flashed bright with panic as she wiped frantically at it, as if there were actual tears streaming down her face. Ocho stared, for once in his life, genuinely speechless. As there, Lucidna sat in the corner of her bed, curled tightly inwards with his bowtie pressed desperately against her chest while distorted little sniffles crackled from her voice box. Her hair was messy from changing sheets, ribbons hanging loosely, and the expression glowing across her screen looked so painfully ashamed that something electric shot down Ocho’s spine immediately. Pity. Raw, unadulterated, horrible pity. And beneath that lay excitement, not mockingly so, but something far worse. Something manic, and breathless, and ravenous.
The sight of Lucidna loving him this desperately hit every broken part of Ocho’s brain at once. For one terrifying second, he wanted to crawl inside her ribs and stay there forever. He wanted to hear her say she needed him, wanted to make her cry harder just to soothe her afterwards. He needed to ruin her so gently that she’d never learn how to survive without him. The feeling hit so hard he almost laughed, but instead, Ocho shut the door quietly behind himself.
“…Oh,” he said softly, despite himself.
Lucidna looked mortified. “S-Sorry—”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I-I didn’t mean t-to steal it, I-I just f-found it and—”
Ocho approached slowly, which somehow frightened Lucidna more. His expression was unreadable beneath the low lighting, though there was something unusually restrained in the way he moved now, like he was actively holding himself back from something impulsive.
“You were crying over my tie?”
“N-No—”
“Lucidna.”
Her screen glitched. “…M-Maybe a little…”
Ocho sat down carefully beside her on the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight while Lucidna instinctively curled tighter around the bowtie in embarrassment. Usually, he would tease her mercilessly for this; usually, he’d drag the humiliation out until she malfunctioned from overheating. But right now, he just felt strange. He understood this too well. His eyes drifted towards the shelves around her side of the room. Towards the tiny organized relics hidden in plain sight; towards the ribbons, scraps, and preserved fragments she surrounded herself with.
Evidence.
Ocho knew that feeling intimately. The panic of realizing affection could disappear at any second—the humiliation of needing reassurance constantly. The desperate urge to preserve every tiny proof somebody loved you before they changed their mind. Only Ocho had always dealt with it differently.
He consumed.
Attention. Bodies. Desire. Reactions. He swallowed anyone whole before they could abandon him first, stuffing himself full of affection until he felt sick with it, only to wake up starving again hours later. Ocho performed constantly because performance guaranteed attention, and attention felt dangerously close to love if he blurred his eyes enough. Lucidna, on the other hand, collected quietly instead. Tiny remnants, tiny confirmations. Things small enough to fit inside boxes beneath her bed.
“…You keep everything, huh?” Ocho remarked quietly.
Lucidna lowered her head. “I-I’m sorry.”
“You say sorry too much.” The words came out softer than expected.
Silence stretched between them for several moments afterwards until Lucidna finally spoke again, voice barely above a whisper.
“…I don’t know how to keep people.”
Ocho looked at her, at the way her hands trembled faintly around the bowtie.
“So I-I keep things instead…”
The sentence hit him harder than he anticipated, just honest enough to wound. For the first time that evening, Ocho’s expression genuinely faltered. Something raw flickered briefly behind his eyes before he smoothed it away beneath his usual composure, but Lucidna saw it, the hurt. Because he understood, too much. Slowly, Ocho reached forward and adjusted the grip she had on the bowtie rather than taking it back. The motion was unbearably careful. Lucidna felt his claws brush over her fingers briefly as he loosened the wrinkled silk where she had been clutching it too tightly against herself. Her breath caught immediately. Ocho usually touched people like he was performing for an audience—dramatic hands, lingering fingers, calculated intimacy sharpened as something dangerous—but this was different, it was small, quiet. almost cautious, like he suddenly realized just how fragile she actually was.
“There,” he whispered, smoothing one thumb over the flattened fabric. “‘Else you’re gonna crease it.”
Lucidna stared at him wordlessly. The tenderness in his voice made her chest hurt worse than teasing would have. Ocho’s eyes remained lowered towards the bowtie for a moment longer, lashes shadowing his expression. From this close, Lucidna could see the exhaustion sitting beneath his makeup and perfected presentation—faint smudging around the corners of his eyes, tension lingering around his mouth—Ocho always looked beautiful, but rarely human. Right now, he looked frighteningly human.
“You…” Lucidna hesitated, breathless. “Y-You aren’t mad?”
At that, Ocho finally looked up. The expression on his face shifted strangely for a second; it wasn’t annoyance nor amusement, more so something wounded. “Mad?” he echoed quietly. “Babe, you looked like you were mourning somebody.”
Her screen flickered in embarrassment. “I-I know … it’s s-stupid..” (╥﹏╥)
“No.” His response came immediately this time. “It isn’t.”
The firmness in his tone startled the both of them, and silence followed. Ocho leaned back slightly afterwards, one arm draped loosely over his knee while he watched Lucidna continue to clutch the tie against herself more gently now. Something was mesmerising about it; her obvious relief at being allowed to keep it. Like she genuinely hadn’t expected kindness, like she had already begun grieving the loss before he’d even asked for it back.
“Why keep it?” he eventually asked, voice softer now.
Lucidna nodded once. “I-I thought maybe…” Her voice crackled faintly as she trailed off. “M-Maybe you.. l-left it on p-purpose.”
Ocho went still, because he had, though not intentionally at first, but he had realized it was missing days ago, and never bothered retrieving it. He just wanted to stop by her room. Some subconscious part of him had liked the idea of it remaining here with her, tangled somewhere among her things. The realization unsettled him now more than it should have.
“And if I did?” he continued, asking lightly once again.
Lucidna’s fingers tightened around the silk again. “T-Then… it meant y-you thought of me.”
The sentence landed between them with devastating softness. Ocho looked away first; for once, he didn’t know what expression to make, so instead, he laughed quietly under his breath, though the sound came out uneven around the edges. Ocho was well aware that Lucidna knew about his careless nature, about his … adventurous side, how he liked others more than her sometimes, but it never made listening to her like this any easier. “Oh, Luci…” He dragged a hand over his face before speaking again. “You make everything sound tragic.”
“S-Sorry.”
“There you go again.”
Lucidna lowered her head immediately afterwards, embarrassed into silence once more. The bowtie remained pressed close to her chest while distorted little sniffls still escaped her occasionally despite her attempts to suppress them. Ocho watched her for a long moment, something increasingly feverish crling in his ribcage the longer he looked. It wasn’t lust. Not entirely, at least. Possession, maybe—no, worse. Recognition. Suddenly, Lucidna didn’t feel separate from him anymore. She felt like another version of the same wound; cut by the same knife their so-called mother held. Ocho exhaled slowly through his nose before speaking again, quieter this time.
“…You know what’s funny?”
Lucidna blinked up at him.
“I think I understand you better than anybody else here.”
Her screen glitched momentarily. Ocho smiled then, but it lacked its usual sharpness.
“…Keep it,” he smiled.
Lucidna looked startled. “W-Wh…?”
Ocho huffed out a faint laugh. “Luci, baby, if I truly wanted it back, you wouldn’t still be holding it.”
Something fragile brightened across her screen immediately. Hope, tiny and trembling; it nearly drove him insane. Before the feeling could spiral into something uglier, Ocho abruptly shifted sideways and lowered himself against the mattress, eventually resting his head carefully in her lap with a dramatic sigh. Lucidna froze up as soon as he made contact, thighs tensing beneath his permanent, cat-eared headphones.
“O-Ocho?”
“Mhm.”
“Y-You’re … l-lying down on me.”
“Yeah, babe, congrats.”
Her hand hovered uncertainly above him for several seconds. Ocho could practically hear the panic in her processor, trying to determine whether touching him without permission would ruin the moment somehow. Eventually, though, she gradually rested one careful hand against his hair. Ocho nearly melted on contact. Gods. He hated how badly he needed gentleness. His eyes slid shut while Lucidna timidly combed her fingers through his hair, still clutching the bowtie protectively in her other hand. Neither of them spoke for a while after that. The room remained dim and quiet around them, filled only by the soft hum of Lucidna’s internal systems and Ocho’s slow breathing.
It wasn’t comfort exactly.
The hunger inside them both still existed. Lucidna still feared abandonment. Ocho still feared being unloved unless he made himself impossible to ignore. Nothing had been fixed, nor cured, but for one small moment, they sat together, surrounded by all the tiny remnants of affection Lucidna had spent years preserving, and neither of them had to pretend they were above wanting to be kept.
frag • ile
— easily broken, or destroyed.
— constitutionally delicate, lacking in vigor.
— tenuous, slight.
— her heart, which is mine.
❤︎ ocho —