“You look even more tired than usual, champ.”

You glance over at your partner, their grin wider than ever. It’d been a while since you’ve been able to meet like this, and you’re not sure how they’re able to stay so upbeat. You flop into their lap, Wane retracting their horns and patting you on the head.

“Cmon, tell me what’s eating you. That’s not the face of somebody having a good day.”

You groan and shove your head into their mane, still grumpy from earlier.

“It’s just the usual. I’m just...exhausted.”

“Cult again?”

“Mm, I don’t know why they’re so active as of late...I really should talk to Spit about it. I try to stay out of everyone’s business, but-”

“She’s a real piece of work, isn’t she?” They tilt their head and lift you up a bit, getting you to face them. “Every day I wonder ‘huh, maybe making a god of violence was a shitty idea’.”

You can’t help but snort, perking up a bit. “I did tell you it was a bad plan!”

“And I never listen, do I?”

“Never, but that’s not going to stop me from trying.”

They give you a quick peck on the forehead, and you settle into a comfortable hug. Their fur is so warm, and it’s easy to drift off into much more pleasant thoughts. You can hear them humming a tune, and you recognize it as one of your favorites.

Someday, you will miss them more than anything. 

Wane kicks back in their armchair, big enough to practically a throne. They could be any size they wanted in godspace, but large suited them- they liked the feeling of towering over people, feeling strong, and being able to back those claims up.

And tonight, they're feeling stronger than ever. A new sport, invented by them, of course, was reaching new heights of popularity, and their people are celebrating from dusk until dawn. Nothing was better to them than hearing the cheers of an excited crowd in the magic mirror hanging over their fireplace, and right now, they're relishing it in the privacy of their own extraplanar home.

A loud unpleasant ringing fills the space without warning, slowly quieting down until it is silent again. A figure steps straight out of the wall next to the fireplace. Quarry stands at her normal height of 9 feet, looking rather imposing to Wane’s 8 feet, despite her fragile looking glass body.

"Wane, right?"

"What th-" Wane scrambles in their chair, practically scooting their whole body up into it. "Who the fuck are you?!"

"You sent me a letter, you said you wanted to see me asap. You can't tell me you forgot about me already?" Quarry says, leaning against the wall they came through.

"...ah. You're the uh, rebellion kid." They lean in, squinting. "Pretty sure you weren't a high god though, not in my notes."

"I'm hardly a kid, in most species I'd be counted as elderly," she says indignantly. "And I'm not a high god, I'm just great." She smiles at her small half pun.

"Then you're not supposed to be here!" An unexpected smile spreads across their face. "That's some trick."

"If you say so," she says, shrugging. "It's just something I'm able to do. So... you are Wane, correct? God of bravado and..." the barest hint of uncertainty crosses her face, "Truth?"

"The one and only- you're pretty interesting right off the bat, you know!" They settle back into a proper sitting position, kicking back. "You were already on our radar before, but now, after this little stunt? Whoof!" Their smile only grows, seemingly ignoring the other god's uncertainty.  "You intrigue me."

She sighs imperceptibly at those words. "Yes I've had no shortage of people being... intrigued by me." She grabs a chunk out of the stone wall which reforms itself into a chair in her hands that she slams down before sitting in it backwards. "So what is it that you want? Everyone seems to want me for one reason or another."

"I'm curious! Like you said, everybody is. You're a rarity! Something new and exciting!"

She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Just curiosity? You didn't ask me to come talk to you for anything else?"

"Well...you got me there. I got an offer, but only if I get to know you a little first. Make small talk. Ask questions."

"Basic vetting shit I take it? Wanting to make sure I'm not a murderer or a liar?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well if that's the case then do I get to ask shit to find out if you're a murderer or a liar?"

"I can answer that easy- for one thing, only a murderer if you consider honest and mutual bloodsport as murder. It's got rules, it's got honor- nobody forced into it, not like other regions. You ever hear of the things they do to people in Monte? Horrible!"

"I can't say I'm too fond of bloodsports, honorable or not," she says, leaning back slightly, "So what about the other one. You a liar?"

"Everyone lies at some point or another, but if I was a liar, I wouldn't be a very good god of truth, would I?"

"No, I suppose you'd be pretty shitty, huh?" She says, "So, what questions did you have for me then?"

"First off, what's your deal? Domains, motifs. Fill me in."

"Well, I already know yours, so I suppose its only fair," she says, looking up at the ceiling, "Rebellion, law, and..." she pauses, "My motifs are glass and paint."

"Glass and paint, nice...very nice. And those domains, too! You must have some pretty sweet powers under your belt."

"I... suppose. But I try to use them responsibly. There's few things worse than someone powerful abusing said powers," they reply, looking pointedly back at Wane, "Wouldn't you agree?"

And that's exactly why we've got you in our sights!" They continue to ignore the other god's jabs, summoning a flask of ale with a flick of their wrist. "You drink?"

"Not during business, that's for sure."

"Fair enough!" They down a large gulp. "Takes a lot more than this to get me running my mouth, so not a problem for me. Got good tolerance and all that."

"If you say so..." they mumble, "So, do you have more questions, or did I pass already?"

"No, no, I got more questions." They raised a hand. "Relax, we're taking this easy. I was planning on making it more formal, but you interrupted me during my well, me time."

"Yes well, I find it easier to gauge what kind of person someone is when they've been caught somewhat off guard."

"Makes it easier on me, to be honest! But, if you're ready to get down to brass tacks, I'll be upfront- we've got problems here in Taverne. Bet you've heard of em, considering one of my kids is kind of an infamous little bitch." They snort. "Forgive the language, but she's earned it."

"I've heard stories from some of my people, yes."

"Her people, they're good people. They deserve better than the treatment she gives them, and the religion she preaches. I've tried to appeal to her as a mother, but...I'm at my wit's end. Both Wax and I are." They point at the greater god, leaning in just a bit. "But you, with those domains...I heard good things, but to hear that confirmation makes me sure of it. You could be a great ally for us."

"If I agreed to this, what exactly would you expect me to do, Wane?"

"Well, you'd get a proper alliance with us- can't be easy out there on your own. Our resources are your resources, as long as it's reasonable. You'd be able to conduct your business however you want, long as you aren't as bad as my shitty daughter and you mean the best for your people, and when we need you, you pitch in with whatever you got. We'll do the same for you."

 "I will help your people, same way I help all people, but I won't ally with you."

"Fair enough." They slump back in their chair. "Do I get a reason why?"

"Well it's like I said, I really hate it when people misuse their powers."

They watch her expression carefully, not saying a word.

"I don't know why you did, but I can feel that you fucked with my head. More than once."

They place their ale down on the side table by their chair, keeping full eye contact. "That's a pretty serious accusation!"

"Oh for fuck- you know that just saying 'no I didn't' would be way more convincing, right?"

"You wouldn't believe that even if it is the truth. I know a set opinion when I see one, kid."

"Yeah and I know a liar when I hear one. I just don't get why you messed with my head of all people, and a while ago, too..."

 "I don't go messing with people's heads!" Their face grows fierce, if only for a moment. "That'd be unethical as hell and I wouldn't stand for it, I don't stand for my own daughter doing that to people, for god's sake! That's why I wanted to talk to you in the first place!"

She looks down while mumbling to herself, clearly not listening to what Wane said. "Why would I be singled out? I didn't even know they were aware I existed then. Unless..."

"If you're just here to make ridiculous conspiracy theories about me, there's pleeeenty of other gods you can talk to. Like you said, everybody's got an interest in you."

Her face twists into an expression of panicked comprehension, "It wasn't just- I thought it was only- what happened that you needed to-" panicked, she tries to get up and back away, but she trips on her chair, sending it and her to the ground. She lays there, panting, looking up at Wane.

"Wane, what the fuck did you do?"

They say nothing, their expression softening into something immensely sad.

Quarry feels her heart sink as her fears are confirmed. "What... what did you do?" She asks again.

They rise from their chair, taking a few steps towards her before kneeling at her side. When they speak, there's something almost numbing in their voice, their tone full of sorrow. "What's your third domain, Quarry?"

"I- it- it's insight," she says, feeling as though the words are forcing their way up her throat.

They make a soft hum of acknowledgment, placing a large hand on top of her head. "I'm sorry, for this."

"Wh- what are you doing?" She says, trying to crawl backwards but finding it hard to move.

"You came here to talk with me, and you decided the deal was no good. You didn't have a very good time with me, but aside from that, you have no issue with me. Just another failed high god offer, and now you're ready to leave." They close their eyes tight, squeezing them shut before letting out an impossibly long exhale. "This is your truth."

 She blinks a couple times before bringing a hand up to her head, "Ugh, what happened, why are we on the floor?"

"You took a spill all of a sudden, kid...think the heat of the fire was too much for you. You're practically close enough to get melted."

"Ugh my fucking head... can that happen? If I got melted here would it hurt me outside?"

"Nah, you'd be fine as soon as you check out- plus side of hanging out in a place like this!" They clapped her on the back before helping her up. "There we go!"

"Thanks... you know, you're actually kind of ok, it's too bad that we weren't able to work out a deal because of..." She trails off, then shakes her head, "Uh, something. I guess this godspace thing was a little more tiring than I thought."

"It's your first time, right? You'll get used to it."

"No I've... tested it a little... I think I'm just going to... go," she says, falling forward. But rather than smacking face first into the floor, she passes straight through it and is gone.

Wane lingers for a moment before going back to their chair, staggering slightly before collapsing into it. 

The cheers of their people no longer feel comforting.

Not much does, after this.

It’s late, way too late for anyone to be up and roaming the halls of the Luxson Biotech Facility, but as usual, there’s no rest for nighttime security. Flynt knows that most people will have left work hours ago, curfew already instated for anyone not on the night watch...but there’s always someone on overtime. 

Sure enough, there’s light coming out from under the door of a familiar room, an even more familiar name on the door. Visiting Philly for his check ups and tests after hours had become their routine for months now, and it’d become their little secret. All it took was a few loops around the main hallways before Flynt could safely say he did his job, and then it was off to see his friend and get up to, as Philly called it, “mad science shenanigans”. 

Flynt sneaks closer to the door, opening it slowly with his foot- Philly’s in the same place as always, leaning forward over some notes and completely focused on scribbling something down.  

Perfect.

The corvice plans his steps carefully, making sure not to make any audible noise on the tile. Philly’s so deep in his work that he doesn’t even notice Flynt leaning over his shoulder, practically stage whispering in his ear.

FLYNT: You're up past shift.

Philly tries not to jump out of his chair, fur standing on end. He whips around with ears back, but the playful smile on his face betrays any attempt at annoyance. 

PHILLY: And you startled me!
FLYNT: Heh. Not here to bust you, but the job needs me to ask why.

Philly leans back against the table a bit, trying to play off his surprise.

PHILLY: Boooo. What if it's secret lab business?
FLYNT: Records say they’re classified?

Philly’s expression turns smug.

PHILLY: Maybe that’s a secret too!

Flynt only returns the look even harder, used to their little game at this point.

FLYNT: And what about for a friend?


Philly turns his body back to his work, still turning his head back to talk to Flynt.

PHILLY: Just documenting our recent findings, thinking ahead.
FLYNT: Yeah?
PHILLY: Mm, we got a lot of progress out of those last few tests!

Philly’s tail wags a bit, clearly excited over his findings. 

PHILLY: It's going fabulously.

Flynt tries to peek over at his notes, unable to keep his curiosity at bay.

FLYNT: Show me.

Philly’s been sketching Flynt's head, focusing on his new teeth. He’s even put in some feather detailing and light shading, not a perfect likeness, but close. It’s halfway between casual scribbling and carefully drawn diagrams, a style that Flynt’s come to appreciate every time he sees it. He can’t help but grin a little, resisting the urge to trace along the paper.

FLYNT: Don't look like work to me.
PHILLY: It is!
FLYNT: Seems more like graphite daydreaming.
PHILLY: I'll have you know that scientific illustration is a part of my work process!

Philly flips through to another piece of paper, showing him all his drafts and notes- investigations on sludge leakage (the drooling had become a bit of an issue lately), notes on before and after stages, typos aplenty, and some sketches of Flynt’s overall body shape as it changed. He can’t help but feel shy over the last one, but Philly keeps thumbing through.

PHILLY: I can add in my own edits a lot easier with a drawing.

Philly flips through his notebook, showing prior, quicker sketches of possible outcomes for his teeth, matched to formulas and notes. 

PHILLY: It allows me to explore possibilities as well, excellent for visualization!
FLYNT: Huh. They look great.
PHILLY: You think so? 

Philly smiles wide, pleased as could be. 
PHILLY: I'm not the best, but I really like illustrating my own work. It's one of my favorite parts of the job.
FLYNT: I can only do little scribbles myself, honestly.
PHILLY: Oh, you can help me with the next part then! 
FLYNT: Don't see how I could contribute much.
PHILLY: To the contrary- we need to talk the next step, and your input is vital.
FLYNT: ...Alright.
PHILLY: Scoot in a bit! I've been brainstorming. 

Philly rifles through one of his other notebooks, trying to find a new, fresh page. Flynt dusts the seat next to him and scoots in, perching in true corvice fashion. 

PHILLY: So, first things first...how have the mods been treating you? Teeth aching at all, strength staying consistent?
FLYNT: Been different, but mostly fine.
PHILLY: Different how?

Philly switches from his charcoals to a pen, clicking the end, completely ready to write down notes-

FLYNT: Like this. 

Flynt playfully clamps onto the dog's face with his teeth, not enough to hurt. Philly turns all red, laughing as best he can with a bird latched onto him. Flynt lets go quick, but it’s still enough for Philly to look like an embarrassed mess.

PHILLY: Sh-sharp! They're sharp, you nerd! 

Flynt’s expression is painfully smug.

FLYNT: That good or bad? 
PHILLY: Good! 
PHILLY: I mean, that's what we were going for! 

Philly tries to regain his composure, coughing. He gives a thumbs up, avoiding eye contact.

PHILLY: Sharp is really good. It's good. 

He finally gets himself together, trying to get back into proper science mode.

FLYNT: That the goal?
PHILLY: They're certainly holding up well, and if you don't have any aches, I'd say we're doing great. 

Philly scoots out of his chair quickly, making his way to his trusty coffeepot. His tail wags behind him, and Flynt can’t help but get the feeling that he’s just using it as an excuse to cool down.

FLYNT: You're gonna be antsy when you get to bed you know.
PHILLY: It'll be fine! I haven't even hit my usual dose of liquid energy yet. 
FLYNT: Caffeine is the world's most celebrated drug.
PHILLY: For very good reason! 

Philly downs half of his mug and settles back down, face finally back to its usual color. 

PHILLY: And your personal feelings on how things turned out?
FLYNT: There's a nice feel to it.

Philly lights right up.

PHILLY: Awesome. That's a job well done in my book.
FLYNT: You think it looks good?
PHILLY: It suits you perfectly.

Flynt fusses with his teeth, hand on his lower jaw. Philly tries not to stare, shuffling his notes around. 

PHILLY: S-so, the next step. Are you ready to talk another mod?
FLYNT: Depends what you got.

Philly spreads his arms wide, his grin returning. 

PHILLY: I was thinking we go big. What's something you wish you could change, anything at all.
FLYNT: Got a selfish one.
PHILLY: Even better. I want this one to be special to you.

Flynt pulls up his sleeves, revealing scars- Philly’s seen them before, but they’ve always been something untalked about, and he’d never felt right asking.

FLYNT: Wings got jacked up a while back. My nerves never healed just right. Cold stings, don't feel anything like I used to. 

Philly extends his hand, tapping the tips of Flynt’s wings. 

PHILLY: Restorative transformation...possible. Possible, but incredibly difficult…
FLYNT: What are the challenges? 
PHILLY: Healing using horror is a bit tricky.  Getting targeted transformations like we've been doing, like the strength enhancements and the teeth, that's fairly easy stuff- they're common mutations. 
PHILLY: Mutations aren't a one time deal either, so to restore the nerves and tissue, you'd have to, well...create a regenerative one.
FLYNT: In short? 
PHILLY: If I could pull it off, you'd be able to regenerate any damaged tissue, not just your wings. Sludge, shell, if it got fucked up, you'd be able to heal it faster, and with a way lower chance of scarring.
FLYNT: I'd be like some type of comic book character.
PHILLY: Dove would absolutely freak.

The two of them share a knowing glance, Philly’s smirk matching Flynt’s snickering. 

FLYNT: Think she'd be all for it?
PHILLY: Oh my god, are you kidding me?

Philly can’t help but laugh. 

PHILLY: If she catches wind of this idea, she'll make me do it- if not to you, then to her!
FLYNT: Think she'd abuse it? 
PHILLY: I fear her power as it is, she doesn't need regeneration! 
FLYNT: We might end up creating the worst antihero the world's seen.

Philly only laughs harder, Flynt joining in- it’s moments like this that the two of them hold onto, and it’s some time before they’re able to catch their breath and get back to work. 

PHILLY: But as for you...would you do it? You can't take this kind of thing back, and it's got a catch or two.
FLYNT: Let me hear the catch. 

Philly rubs his temples, thinking over the ramifications.

PHILLY: This kind of mutation would be like...it's the top tier. The highest we can safely go, and unfortunately, at what we know now, we can't just isolate the regen. It'd have to come with another mutation, a big one, and there'd be serious side effects.

The mood of the room changes quickly, Flynt solemn as he lets it sink in.

FLYNT: Not dropping from this project, but I gotta think on that one.
PHILLY: I can probably package it with a mutation of your choice, but there's not much I can do about the stuff that comes with it. It'd have to be a really big change, too.
FLYNT: Can you crunch what can happen down?

Philly speaks with huge hand gestures, doing his best to articulate.

PHILLY: Hunger and issues regulating emotions are the big ones- I can minimize the latter, but the hunger's not going anywhere.
PHILLY: With your current mutations, you're not really affected, but the further you go, the more you'll need to eat. 
FLYNT: How much more?
PHILLY: You'd have to snack regularly, maybe squeeze in an extra meal.
FLYNT: Heads would probably kill me over that.

Philly’s face turns excited, hands clasped. 

PHILLY: I could cook for you!

His blush returns as soon as he says it, embarrassed at his own outburst.

PHILLY: I mean, if you'd want. They give me plenty of food money to order from up top.
FLYNT: Think I already got something in mind.

Philly’s ears perk up.
 
PHILLY: Yeah?

Flynt clamps his beak on Philly’s face again, unable to keep himself from blushing this time- it’s a little too close to, well...a kiss, for him not to. Philly makes a puppy whine, his voice muffled.

PHILLY: Nooo! No eating the master scientist!!

Flynt lets go just enough to talk, still staying close. 

FLYNT: Your experiments backfired.
PHILLY: Betrayal at the hands of my finest work!
FLYNT: The creation rebels against the creator.

Philly grabs Flynt’s beak with both hands, holding it shut with a devilish expression. 

PHILLY: Can I take this sudden chomping fit as a yes? 

Flynt wiggles out of his grasp easily, the scientist letting go as soon as he went to talk.

FLYNT: When we got it figured out a bit more, yeah.
PHILLY: And thaaaat…

Philly pokes through his notes and slides over a page of scientific drawings, mostly rough sketches of Flynt, including his build, proportions and current mods. They’re more refined than the ones Flynt got to peek at earlier, but still sketchy around the edges.

PHILLY: Is why I have these! You said you could do doodles, right? 

Flynt droops a bit, not confident in the slightest.

FLYNT: Don't see how I'd do much better than you in this bit.
PHILLY: You know what you want better than I would! I mean, I can try to draw based on description here, but you can draw right on top of these. I have copies.

Philly plunks a pen down for him, giving him a reassuring look. Flynt takes it slowly, looking down at the notes.

PHILLY: I can always work on refining the idea, but I want it to be yours.

It’s quiet for a moment as Flynt thinks it over. 

FLYNT: Maybe... something that'll help me get around easier. Something tougher.
PHILLY: Tougher's a guarantee, I wouldn't mod you with something that wouldn't last.
FLYNT: I want something better than before.
PHILLY: Well, you said you're not happy with your wings…

Flynt glances down at his wing, unable to stop thinking about the scars underneath his top

FLYNT: They're not in great shape.

Philly starts taking notes, only looking up to check his expression.

PHILLY: So, how would you fix ‘em up?
FLYNT: Make them more practical I guess. Something that can do heavy lifting.

Philly sticks his pen in his mouth for a moment, flipping to check an older page. 

PHILLY: Why not arms? Hands'll do you a lot better than those wings if you want to lift shit. 

Flynt extends a wing, wiggling it around. 

FLYNT: Don't got bones.
PHILLY: Don't need ‘em! 

Philly zips up out of his chair and zooms back with a large book in hand, slamming it on the table and opening it to a marked tab.

PHILLY: Let's see......

He flips through pages until he gets to an illustration of a cat-like corvice, complete with fur and large claws. 

PHILLY: Tada! Mammal morph corvice! They've got arms just fine, no bones needed!
FLYNT: Don't think I've seen one in this part of the lab.
PHILLY: Nope, they're more common on Fallow's Island! Neat though, huh? 
FLYNT: Fallow's island must be wild.
PHILLY: When we've made it big on this research, I'll take us. You, me, Dove. 
FLYNT: It nice?

Philly nods.

PHILLY: Pictures and video don't do it justice. Hell, if we can pull this off, we'd be able to travel there pretty often. This kind of research...it'd change the world.

Philly smiles, folding his hands together and leaning on them. 

PHILLY: But, if these mods help you out, that's more than enough for me.
FLYNT: Win-win if we do this, then.
PHILLY: As long as you're up for the side effects and piles of tests, I'm confident I can pull it off.

Flynt leans in, solemn.

FLYNT: Can I trust you?

Philly softens, his face both honest and serious.

PHILLY: I'll give this everything I have, and then some.
FLYNT: And we'll make it work?
PHILLY: Through anything.
FLYNT: Then I trust you.

Philly grins wide, trying not to wiggle in excitement.

PHILLY: Sounds like we've got a lot of late nights ahead, huh?
FLYNT: That's not a excuse to stay up until 6. 
PHILLY: Flyyyyynt...
FLYNT: I mean it.
PHILLY: Flyyyyynt, it's fiiiine.
FLYNT: Don't need you blowing it during the daytime or getting hurt.
PHILLY: Fiiine...just…

Philly starts gathering his papers up, his hand lingering a bit away from one of Flynt's wings. 

PHILLY: A little longer, alright?
FLYNT: Just don't be jittery in the morning. Take care of yourself.
PHILLY: I have to be in top condition to pull this off, right?

Philly smiles and goes to take a drink of his coffee, head slightly tilted in Flynt’s direction.

PHILLY: I promise, I won't go too overboard.

Flynt pushes the mug down a bit, getting a pout out of Philly.

FLYNT: That means control your coffee intake too.
PHILLY: Fine, but don't expect me to go cold turkey! Takes time to wean off of this stuff.
FLYNT: Heh, when do we start then?
PHILLY: If somebody wasn't so insistent we head to bed, I'd say tonight...but tomorrow should be good...