Chapter Text
The Defeat of Parrot's army left him devastated, Highwater City was left in tatters the moment Wemmbu arrived. Unavoidable as it was, parrot gritted his teeth in defeat as he looked up at the starry night, Theo's rough boating sending jolts through his body, reminding him that he was still alive. He was still functioning like he supposedly should be as the king.
The crown may reign heavy but parrot hesitates to think he deserves to carry a crown with such weight. Reina and Theo switched boats mid-way, in regards of Theo's strict rule of letting the king sleep off his frustration. But all Parrot felt was hatred. Hatred for the crown, hatred for the people and hatred for the situation. War changes people, and Parrot was just stupid enough to believe that those people we're his friends.
With a heavy sigh, Parrot was then again, forced to retreat, and now he was stuck inside a boat with nothing on his name. Parrot wanted to choke himself.
"Theo," He called, whispering silently as he leaned back at him, one second away from taking off the crown. "Will it ever get better?" He whispered, eyes heavy with sleep, threatening to close. "...I promise it will Parrot." He whispered back as he watched his King close his eyes, scarily so, almost like he was taking his final breath to the world.
Theo's heart dropped slightly, and the next few days we're just a blur of checking Parrots breathing and rowing. It was still unclear where they were going, but to be completely honest, Theo just wanted to get Parrot out of a dangerous situation.
Surprisingly, what greeted Parrot when he opened his eyes wasn't the end of the world. It was the peace and tranquility whatever the hell this small cabin gave him. The colors felt familiar, almost the embodiment of a person he met before. "Theo.." He called out, slightly alarmed as he looked back and again, what greeted him was the Pink walls, and the Orange couch. All too familiar.
Bile rose up from Parrots throat as his hands physically shook, he tried to stand but his heart stopped at what was holding him up from falling to the floor–a pink end table. The same design he had. Even down to the prismarine roof.
Parrot felt trapped, He didn't know how to function, all he felt was the pressure of his past. Parrot felt like he couldn't breathe.
His lungs suddenly locked up on him, the air in the room turning thick and suffocating as if someone had shoved water down his throat and forced him to inhale it. His hand flew to his neck before he could even think, fingers digging harshly against his feathered skin as he stumbled backwards into the wall. His chest spasmed violently, panic crawling through every vein in his body so fast it made him dizzy.
He couldn't breathe, nor could he speak. He just felt his nails press harder into his throat.
Parrot barely even realized what he was doing. It wasn't intentional, wasn't some conscious attempt to hurt himself, but his body reacted before his brain could catch up. The pressure around his neck grounded him in the worst way possible, enough to make him feel real, enough to check if he was even alive at all.
Because this couldn't be real. That table wasn't supposed to be there, that roof wasn't supposed to exist.
He wasn't supposed to–and he didn't want to remember.
A broken sound ripped out of him, somewhere between a gasp and a choke as he clawed harder at his throat, feathers ruffling and clumping together roughly. The room folded in on itself violently, walls twisting, colors blurring together until all Parrot could see was prismarine, pink wood, blood under fingernails, explosions ringing, voices screaming over one another so loudly he couldn't tell which ones were memories and which ones were actually happening.
His knees hit the floor hard enough to bruise, he seriously couldn't fucking breathe.
Parrot dragged at his neck desperately, fingers trembling so violently they barely felt attached to him anymore. His heartbeat slammed against his ribs in painful bursts, too fast, too loud, like it was actively trying to escape his body. Every inhale came out shredded and uneven, tiny broken gasps that never felt like enough air.
He felt hands on him–not real ones, but old ones. Ghosts. He felt wandering hands clinging to him desperately–almost like they're pleading him not to let them die.
His entire body jerked as another memory crashed into him without warning, hot panic surging through his veins so hard it made him nauseous. He could practically hear the crackling flames again, smell smoke choking the air, hear himself screaming, hear them screaming—
Parrot let out a sharp, horrified noise and shoved himself backwards across the floor, heels scraping desperately against wood as if distance alone could save him from memories already carved into his skull.
But the room stayed the same.
That fucking table stayed the same.
His vision blurred with tears he didn't even notice falling, his hands still locked around his own throat as though he genuinely believed he needed to check if he could die. Maybe if he pressed hard enough he'd wake up somewhere else. Maybe if he stopped breathing for long enough this nightmare would reset itself and spit him back out into reality.
Instead, black spots swarmed his vision.
His body convulsed with another violent gasp.
"Stop— stop—"
The words came out cracked and wet, barely understandable even to himself. Parrot yanked one hand away from his neck only to slam it against his mouth, trying to physically force down the sob clawing its way out of his chest. It didn't work. Nothing worked.
Everything hurt. Everything seriously fucking hurt, his skin felt too tight over his body. The room was too loud.
Parrot curled forward sharply, forehead nearly hitting the ground as another choking sound tore out of him. His fingers dug bruises into his own skin while he fought for air like a drowning man. Rationally, somewhere deep down, he knew nobody was hurting him. Nobody was attacking him. But PTSD didn't care about logic, and right now his body fully believed he was dying all over again.
Every tiny detail in this room had dragged him backwards in time against his will, And now he was trapped there.
His shoulders shook violently as he sucked in another ragged breath, eyes wide and unfocused, staring at absolutely nothing while tears blurred the floor beneath him. He couldn't separate the past from the present anymore. They overlapped so horribly that he genuinely couldn't tell where he was.
The end table stood untouched nearby. Pink, prismarine.
Exactly the fucking same.
And Parrot broke he broke loudly, in the ugliest way possible. Silent choking sobs wracked through his body while he clawed at his own throat and fought against memories no one else could see, terrified out of his mind and unable to escape a past that refused to let him go.
"Parrot." A voice called–and Parrot swore he could almost see himself smile at the familiarity.
"Wi–"
"Parrot!" Theo called out, his voice cut through the static.
Parrots body jerked violently at the feeling of hands grabbing his wrists, not forceful, not hurting him, just enough to stop his fingers from digging deeper into his throat.
Parrot didn't notice when the room changed. One second he was drowning in pink wood and prismarine, choking on smoke that wasn't there, hearing echoes of voices long gone, and the next—"Hey— hey, look at me." Theo.
It was Theo's voice.
But Parrot couldn't process it properly. His vision still swam with shapes that didn't exist, his brain desperately trying to shove memories over reality until the two blended together into something horrifying. His eyes looked glassy, distant, unfocused to the point it barely even seemed like he was seeing anything in front of him.
Theo had seen that look before. That awful hazy emptiness, like Parrot's mind had gone somewhere his body couldn't follow. It scared him more that it should have.
"Parrot." Theo's voice dropped lower this time, calmer, steady in a way that cut through the panic little by little. "You're here. You're with me right now." Parrot stared straight through him.
Theo swallowed hard at the sight. His breathing was horrible, uneven choking gasps that shook his entire body, and his pupils looked blown wide with fear. Tears streaked down his face without him even seeming aware of them. Even now his fingers twitched weakly beneath Theo's grip like he still thought he had to claw at his own throat to survive.
Parrot didn't respond.
Theo shifted closer anyway, kneeling fully in front of him now. "There you go. Focus on me first."
Slowly, absolutely and painfully–slowly, Parrots eyes began trying to track him. They still looked dim and far away, dissociation clinging to him so heavily Theo genuinely wondered if Parrot could even hear him properly.
But then Theo watched recognition flicker. Theo..." The name came out shredded and breathless.
"Yeah," Theo answered, relief slipping into his voice before he could stop it. "Yeah, it's me. Hi buddy." He smiled.
Parrots breathing slowed down, the room around him slowly changing to what it was.
Not really physically, but mentally–like reality was peeling itself back together piece by piece. The violent pinks disappeared first. Then the prismarine. Then the crushing sensation of smoke and heat and hands and blood.
And finally—Spruce columns, white walls, dark roofs.
Everything was normal.
Parrots eyes widened slightly as the realization crashed into him all at once. His gaze darted around the room frantically, almost disbelievingly, searching for signs of the nightmare still lingering somewhere nearby.
But there was nothing. No pink table, no prismarine roof, no fire. He was safe. As safe as can be. "Theo," Parrot called out, still in a daze, but his mind slowly functioned. "...Why is there a hole in the roof." He whispered.
Theo looked at the avian in his arms, lithe and shaking–yet Theo couldn't help but laugh it off. His bestfriend looked so shaken, Theo feared the worst of it. Theo helped him up, holding him steadily as he watched his legs shake like jelly. "Where are we?" Parrot questioned, looking at his arms as his vision blurred then cleared again. "Wheat City–or Elysium, I don't know, I didn't really pay attention to this one guy." He shrugged. Parrot laughed in earnest.
"How many people?" He asked, stretching his wings out. "Like 15 or less, It's entirely blown up, almost like hell rained down on it." He breathed out in exasperation. "Uh..huh.." Parrot absentmindedly agreed, pushing back the door that barely held on as he exited the house. He just noticed now–there was a big fucking hole blown wide beside him, the wall was gone–what the fuck?
"King Parrot!" The call pulled parrot out from his confused trance. He looked around and saw a small crowd of people circling around a fire pit, the people of the wheat city and those of his own kingdom mingled without a care in the world, and suddenly nothing else mattered in Parrots eyes. Just the peace and silence that followed his people.
Those of red trimmed diamond armor circled him and asked a million questions he couldn't fathom to understand, all he could slowly do was nod his head and tell them he was okay.
"Is that–King Parrot?" A player by the name of FieldsofElysium questioned. The leader, he concluded. A leader with a mace–he remarked.
"Uh, hi." He greeted.
"Look, It's the King of Unstable!" The others smiled as they soon began leaving the fire pit to greet their rightful king. "Hello–Everyone," He stuttered, hesitation clearly painted in his face as fear slowly overtook, he was scared people only looked at his crown and not the person he was within. But the people weren't cruel. They didn't even look at him with even a hint of malice. They simply led him towards the fire pit and shared bread and stories with him.
They didn't mind that he held the crown. Nor the fact that he held a title. In this village, freedom was what mattered most. As an avian, he was supposed to know what it tasted like. The crowd was lively, everything sounded so loud. Theo was near the barrels flaunting his wings, and Reina was with the children, letting them braid her hair, and honestly–that was the first time parrot has seen his people so peaceful.
"Wemmbu would be envious if he saw this, so peaceful." Elysium said, and just the mention of Wemmbu's name made his heart drop and his mind ramble on. He felt so bitter from the mention that he seriously itched to go back to that house and sleep till he's dead. "Wemmbu..?" Parrot murmured. Elysium only smiled.
"He's our benefactor–I'd say he was our protector, but I'm better at mace than him." He smugly grinned, earning a few slaps to his head. Parrot smiled stiffly, excusing himself as he slowly walked away from the pit. He looked at the night sky and pouted, he was seriously so bitter.
"Parrot!" Theo's voice called from a distance, running towards him, looking concerned. Parrot looked back and smiled again. "Theo, how long have I passed out?" He asked.
"Uhh, two days, and a few hours," Theo paused, one hand rubbing his chin, mimicking the action of a person thinking. "Why do you ask?" Theo lingered but didn't push further, parrot looked like he was one stumble away from ending things. "Uhh..just..I had the urge to sleep again, night." He said, walking away immediately as he said that.
Just like before, when Parrot feels wronged or gets angry, he acts like a pouting child, ignoring everyone and anyone as he gets the urge to walk away. He looked so mad that Theo didn't even wanna object. He accepted his friend, he was okay. Parrot is gonna be fine. "Okay..good night Parrot."
Parrot crossed his arms and walked back in the house with the anger of a thousand suns. The moment he got inside the house, he immediately reached up for his crown and threw it aggressively towards the crumpling wall. He sniffled as he watched the anger bubbling deep, he didn't wanna be the king anymore. His hands itched to help people but his mind hesitated to take action.
If the crown reigned heavy, along with the knowledge to support it, then why hesitate to take action and leave his subjects to suffer. What was the point of his authorization if the only thing he led people to was their deaths.
Parrot felt so itchy, his hands felt so uncomfortable, yet the more he scratched, the more the itch taunted his skin. He wanted to grab a sharp object to ease the itch in. He also felt nauseous, like drowning in a vat of water. Parrot wanted to help. He wanted to help everyone. He wanted to rid his kingdom of problems. Yet all he did in his short reign was cause more problems and start a war. So much for the King he is.
Slowly, Parrot slid down the darkest corner of the room and stayed there, refusing to look up. The house looked like the one he dreaded before. Prismarine; pink walls. The sound of laughter and the silence of familiar space. Parrot could even manage to look up. He couldn't lay in a bed without his whole body trembling and starting a sleep paralysis.
He couldn't now because before–he and wifies used to share a bed and talk about stuff, normal, nightly talk that always concluded in telling the other how much they appreciated the latter. He remembered how it still continued even in that place. He remembered Wifies curling up beside him, he remembered Wifies trembling in his sleep, calling his name, telling him not to leave him. The reason parrot had a hard leaving that horrid place, he could leave sentimentality and the knowledge of smothered protectiveness, but he could never leave his bestfriend.
And he meant that never. He couldn't function without Wifies anymore. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, he couldn't think–he couldn't do anything like he used to before. Now he could only make himself smaller and pretend like he wasn't there. He found solace in hiding, he found the corner where nobody could see him at first glance so safe.
That was how parrot got by day by day, cowardice. Even in the castle, Parrot asked for his chambers to have plenty of tight spaced corners, where he could just sleep peacefully and get yelled at loudly by Theo in the morning. His ideal peace.
The peace he held to even as his consciousness slipped away in a deep sleep.
Parrot felt so absolutely scared, his skin flared again, Theo asked him to go for a walk in the wheaty fields, but he took a detour and thought it would be a good idea to go explore the forest–like it didn't occur to him that he was still in active hiding, there was still a war going on and worst of all–he had a bounty in his head. Some smartest player he was.
Parrot looked around the foresty and bushy scenery, the atmosphere eerie even while it was the crack of dawn. Theo took one look at the terribly complexioned Parrot and screamed his head off forcing Parrot to go outside and touch some grass instead of plotting for the next war plan.
And now here he was, about to meet his untimely doom just because he listened to Theo–he seriously wished his tombstone has the words 'Theo's fault.' written in big, bold and red letters. Matter of fact, out of spite, Parrots soul will find a way to write those words in his own blood.
Before Parrot could finish thinking, he heard the tall bushes shake and the grass threaten to slime parrot out from far away–and Parrot braced for impact, closing his eyes as he prayed that a higher power would save his ass or atleast make it a quick and painless death.
His breath hitched as he opened his eyes to find an Eggchan falling down from a tree and down to the grass. His mouth hung open, he absentmindedly shouted his name,
"Egg!"