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There was a semi-regal laugh far off in the distance.
Shedletsky recognised it vaguely. Nothing new, but nothing important enough to remember. Regardless, he started off towards the first generator that he saw, kneeling down and getting started. He could probably get a few tasks in before he needed to do his job.
Elliot settled down beside him, hesitating before he got to work. Elliot was wayy faster than him with the wires, where Shedletsky carelessly dug his fingers in and rearranged them clumsily, Elliot had the same lack of hesitance but was much more precise and quick.
Yeah. Shedletsky’s hands weren't really meant for this delicate kind of work. He brushed them off on his pants, leaving Elliot to finish so that Elliot wouldn't realise how slow he was doing them. Shedletsky wasn't insecure, he just recognised his strengths and weaknesses, and fiddling with delicate machinery was definitely not a strength.
Guest ran past him, immediately followed by pr3typriincess.
Shedletsky felt a gust of wind pass by as her wings pushed back, the leverage propelling her forwards. Her claws sunk into Guest’s forearm, and she skid off past him, her wings flapping dramatically as she almost lost her balance. Her talons dug into the ground as he took a moment to stand properly. “That did not happen,” She stated simply, her hand reaching up to brush back through her long black feathers, preening them back into place before she started off after Guest again.
Shedletsky let his brain process it, before he caught up with Guest. Guest was in pretty bad shape, claw marks deep in his back and torso. Maybe he would be able to get some pizza if he split off? Shedletsky took his post at the top of the castle ramp, steadying his feet against the ground.
He heard the scrape of talon against stone, and he waited a moment, before he sprung out, sword quickly finding fabric and flesh.
“Ow!” pr3typriincess looked down, pulling at the slightly torn fabric, not the bleeding wound below it. “What is wrong with you?!” She growled, her wings flaring high and wide, and somewhere in a neglected corner of Shedletsky’s mind, he recognised a hint of fear. This was a threat. “You tore my dress—you peasant!” Her hand reeled back, before it came forward too fast to dodge, grabbing the front of Shedletsky’s shirt.
Shedletsky laughed nervously, holding his hands up. “Sorry, your royal highness—I didn't think it'd be so important to you.”
pr3typriincess’ feathers ruffled at that, and she stood up a little bit higher. “Well, at the very least somebody addresses me with the correct etiquette. Even if it's…” She regarded him with disgust in her eyes. “Some preening, greasy, irrelevant admin…!”
“Okay, I can take preening, and greasy, and peasant,” Shedletsky started, his lips curling into a frown. “But irrelevant? Come on, man. Uncalled for.”
“It is plenty called for!” She pointed to her dress, pouting. “This bow is worth more than your salary, commoner!”
“You don't know my salary,” Shedletsky objected, crossing his arms.
The way that her face turned red with anger, her hand curling into a tight fist—it seemed childish.
“How old are you? Ten?” Shedletsky guessed, squinting at her face. She was a whole lot taller than a ten year old, but so was c00lkidd.
“I am ELEVEN!” pr3typriincess shrieked, her shrill voice booming as her hostesses rose up beside her, cake platters in their hands. She threw him to the ground, before grabbing his ankle and launching him from the castle with a deceptive strength.
Shedletsky flew out, his wings flapping uselessly as he careened towards the ground. He hit the grass hard, but scrambled back up to his feet as she dashed towards him, still keeping up with that quiet fury on her face, the only thing disheveled about her.
He bolted in one direction, behind the rock spire, quickly leaping out and running past her as soon as she came out. One of her hostesses raked its claws down his shoulder.
Notably, the hostesses did not possess the same avian features that she did. Was that a choice…? Nah, he was looking too deeply into it, especially at a time where she was still sprinting towards him with full intent to maim.
In one instant, her scepter stabbed through his lower back, one of her talons pressed against the ground and the other curled around his ankle, pulling him back. “How can one be so self-centred while his wings are such a disgraceful mess!” She exclaimed, throwing him to the ground but catching his collar in a way that made it so that his wings weren't crushed under the weight of his whole body and his falling momentum.
“Your wings don't look so hot, either!” He jabbed back, glancing at the iridescent pink feathers. “Looks like a train rolled over your back.”
She dropped him on the ground fully now, a little bolt of pain running down his spine as his bent feathers were fully crushed. “What?!” She jolted, turning to the side and pulling one of her wings forwards. “No?! My feathers are immaculate!”
“Yeah, the inside,” Shedletsky snorted. The parts that she could reach were perfectly preened, but Spawn knows the feathers on her back are not of the same story. It looked just like his, half-molted and bent.
“Give me that—” Despite his protests, pr3typriincess snatched his sword, turning to the side and holding it behind her back to use the reflective metal as a mirror. Her expression twisted into sheer dread and mortification. In one swift movement, she planted the sword into the ground. Her wings hugged tight against her back, squeezing against her like they were trying to rescind into her skin.
“Not so pretty, huh?” He chuckled.
“You!” Her talons slammed into the earth over his arm, pinning him down. “You've wasted all of my time, made a fool of me—!” Her hands curled into fists in front of her, her claws digging into the palms of her hands. She then took a deep breath in, straightening back into a regal and unbothered stance. “You must make reparations for this. I will send for you at a later date, admin.”
“What—”
Everything went black.
-
“There is a creature outside of our abode,” Two Time professed, glancing towards the window.
Guest immediately leapt to his feet, looking out the window. His eyes widened slightly, and he creaked open the front door, stepping out.
Shedletsky sat back on the couch, throwing up and catching a stick that he had found outside a while ago. He had basically tuned out everything what everybody was talking about, managing to completely zone out for a full hour until everybody was pressed up against the doors and windows, speaking in low and concerned voices.
He finally sighed, standing up from his seat to waltz over to the front porch. Guest stood there, his entire body taut. He jolted when Shedletsky patted him on the shoulder, head snapping towards Shedletsky. “Hey, pal. What's goin’ on?”
Guest nudged his head forward.
A hostess stood motionless in front of the porch. Its hands were clasped behind its back, and it stood prim, proper, and patient. It had a smile on its face, one that pr3typriincess would probably have too if she didn't have a beak. It was just a tall, twisted feminine figure, a simpler and humbler gown hugging its figure, no drastic embellishments. Its eyes—the black slits—stared up at the porch, and then its head turned, fixing on Shedletsky.
“Let us make haste. Her majesty awaits your presence!” It chimed, clasping its hands together in front of it.
“He's not going anywhere,” Guest intoned firmly, stepping in front of Shedletsky as if to shield him.
“Her majesty commands it,” The hostess pushed, the smile carving deeper into her features. One of her hands extended, as if awaiting Shedletsky to take it.
“Uhh, quick pause—” Shedletsky pulled Guest back a little bit. “I know you just laid your stake—in a really cool and badass way, also—but I'm gonna go with her.”
Guest stared back at him. Shedletsky could see the question in his features, the utter confusion and hesitance, but he respected him, nodding and stepping aside. “If…if you're sure about this, Shedletsky. I trust your instinct.”
-
Shedletsky stared blankly up at the castle. No matter how many times they had tried escaping this place through the forest on the island, it had always somehow led back to the cabin, even when walking in a perfectly straight line. But now, he took this pink freak’s hand, and he was abruptly at a castle.
It was bright and pink, beautifully decorated with marble and gems. Hostesses were posted at either side of the door like guards.
“Right this way, honoured guest!” The hostess released his hand at the door, holding it open for him.
“Oh yeah. I could get used to this,” Shedletsky hummed to himself, walking into the grandeur. It was all different shades of pink, lavender, and fuschia, brilliant marble and unnaturally coloured stone. It was flawless and spotless, Shedletsky almost felt like he was sullying it by stepping out onto the pristine carpet. It was plush and soft against his feet, he felt like if he stood in one place for too long he would get sucked in like quicksand. Whenever he lingered for too long anyways, the hostess would get antsy, ushering him forwards.
It's not like he wasn't already being treated with greater respect than he was used to on a daily basis. Sure, he was an admin and all, but he went out of his way to exaggerate that at the end of the day, he was really just some guy, an average Joe like the rest of them. It made him feel better to fit in, when people looked at him with that reverence, like a God amongst men, it gave him an uncomfortably familiar feeling.
He really preferred the sound of honoured guest over admin. It made him feel all that more special without that annoying fear that everybody expressed upon his arrival. Like people would be pleasantly surprised or happy to see him and not deeply worried.
The hostess waited beside the door, giving him a bright smile. “Her majesty awaits you inside!”
Shedletsky nodded. “Right.” He pressed his hand against the secure metal door, pushing it open, peeking through the crack. He sorta expected a surprise attack at this point, something to jump out and maul him. It'd been surprisingly peaceful so far.
He did not expect what he saw next.
pr3typriincess sat slightly hunched, chewing on her fingers. She looked nervous, her other hand pressed into her skirt.
She actually…looked like a child. Her bones weren’t jutting out, her eyes were round and bright despite still being that hollow black. She was in a large pristine chair that lifted her up to meet the table height. Her wings were small, slumped onto the arms of her chair, she looked like a little nestling. The crest of black quills on her head were flat against her neck, curling in front of her face.
In front of her was a long table, one embroidered seat at the end, pulled out.
She looked lost in thought and deeply anxious, her fingers gripping the fabric of her skirt. She hummed unevenly, a broken little tune, head tilting to the side.
Shedletsky cleared his throat loudly, now kicking the door open to get her attention.
pr3typriincess jolted sharply, her wings snapping out, a hiss pulling from her throat. She quickly recollected herself, her wings raising behind her, only showing the inside very pointedly. She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I've been awaiting your presence.” She hopped down from her seat, and she really was just a child, about four feet and nine inches roughly in height. “Come sit with me!” She walked briskly to the chair, a lightness in her step. Her talons weren't as wicked and sharp, still present. She pulled it out, patting the seat.
“Yeah, I figured…” Shedletsky obliged, walking a little bit uneasily to the table. Something felt a little bit off, this was too good to be true, a trap maybe. He guard was definitely up. These were unusual circumstances. He took his seat.
She pushed it in with alarming strength, aligning him with the table.
“You…” He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “You look your age.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?!” She huffed, putting her hands on her hips as the quills along her head raised. She clearly took offense to it, despite being eleven.
“I mean…I mean you're not a creepy monster?” Shedletsky specified, his voice lilting up at the end like a question. He wasn't really sure what offended her anymore, he wasn't exactly trying to walk on eggshells. Better to just get to the point.
She went over to her chair, hopping back up into it. “Yes? And?” She scoffed, practically preening with her next statement, “I look just as striking monstrous as I do regal!”
“Don't you mean…you look just as stunning—”
Her expression soured. “You are making me regret hosting you, Shedletsky.”
Shedletsky snickered. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But uhh…why am I here?”
“I prefer to speak about business after tea.”
The door behind him suddenly opened. He jolted, turning behind him and watching people file in. Hostesses, each carrying different platters. They surrounded the table. Shedletsky put his hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword, giving them an uneasy look as they crowded around them.
The unease was immediately ripped from his body as he recognised the food that they were setting down. Tea first—ehh, not really his thing, he was more of a coffee guy, but whatever—and then after that it was scones, jams, creams, sugar cubes, cupcakes, strange small delicate sandwiches—there was even a cake placed on the middle of the table, tall and ornate and delicate.
Shedletsky felt himself begin to drool, and he wiped it from the back of his mouth, sitting up. His attention was rapt, his gaze trailing along the table.
“Oh, goodie, they brought the good cake!” pr3typriincess delighted, clapping her hands together, a soft little lilting chirp spilling from her lips. Shedletsky’s brain immediately recognised it as joy, surprised happiness. He didn't really know why he would recognise it. “You have my appreciation, loyal hostesses. If you wouldn't mind, we would like to be left alone now!”
They all nodded in creepy unison, filing back out the door.
“Ahh, where were we?” She opened her eyes, turning to Shedletsky as he stuffed an entire scone into his mouth at once. “What on Earth are you doing?!” She demanded, standing up on her chair, slamming her hands down onto the table.
Shedletsky paused for a moment, staring at her with wide eyes. Then, he swallowed the entire scone, punching himself in the chest once or twice to get it down. It was awfully dry. He wheezed, clearing his throat. “…Eating?”
“Oh, this is going to be so much more work than I could have ever anticipated!” She exclaimed, hopping down from her chair. “It is fine. I, your royal and gracious host will teach you the proper etiquette that you do not possess, being the generous and kindhearted girl that I am.” She clambered up onto the chair beside him in a slightly ungrateful manner, her little nestling wings flapping as if to propel her up. It was a little bit cute.
She then took the napkin placed in front of him, unfolding it and resting it in his lap with deliberate care.
“…What is that supposed to do?” He asked, his hand already inching towards the scone plate again.
“It is supposed to catch any stray mess that may befall you during the course of your meal,” She explained politely, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Yeah, I don't think that's gonna cut it.” Shedletsky snickered, looking down at the pitiful square of fabric in his lap.
“You are utterly hopeless!” She shrieked in a shrill voice, before she crossed her arms, huffing petulantly. “It is fine. I am nice. I am kind,” She hummed, a repetitive mantra to maintain her cordiality and sanity.
“Say, I always thought that the killers would have a pretty similar deal to us, some dingy little cabin, but it seems like you got it pretty nice here. Do all of the killer have their own place like this?” Shedletsky asked, relatively curious now. Killers had it better than them in a lot of ways, he supposed. He just didn't expect her to have a full-on castle.
Shedletsky wondered briefly…if she assumed this form while at her home. If…if 1x had a home like this…what would they look like?
He quickly banished the thought from his mind. He actually did want to experience happiness and joy when offered the opportunity, thanks. He didn't need to torture himself, the realm already did that for him.
“Ahaha…well, some of them may have some different specifications, but none are as grandeur as my own!” She chimed, raising her hands and wings up as she looked around in wonder. In a smaller, quieter, less formal voice, she added, “It’s so prettyyyy…”
“Why don’t you live with them, then?” Shedletsky asked.
Immediately, he regretted it. It seemed to have hit a deep nerve, her hands balling into fists, her wings puffing up and wrenching back down, like she was literally torn from her delusions. The quills on her head pinned back, and she looked away, crossing her arms. “Do you ever stop asking questions? Why can't you just appreciate how kind and nice and perfect I'm being?!” pr3typriincess’ form rippled dramatically, her fingertips sharpening, the shape of her body growing sharper. “A princess queen is perfect in every way, shape and form, that's me, and I am an incredible hostess, and a g-good person, and…and everybody likes me! They just weren't good enough!” As she spoke, she deflated, growing quiet.
There was lingering resentment on her face, confliction and resignment. She pursed her lips, her wings slumping down in defeat. She didn't look at him, just a pent-up little ball of feathered anger and depression. There was a long, tense silence that lingered between the two of them.
Shedletsky glanced off to the side. Really, he could not handle kids. Always too shy or too rowdy, their interests so fickle and confusing. But he felt kinda bad doing the same routine of ignoring whatever child had upset itself in front of him, and Builderman wasn't here to make up for his complete lack of social skill in this area.
“Alright, well,” Shedletsky huffed, leaning back in his chair. “What's next, your royal highness?” She seemed to perk up a little bit at that, glancing back at him. “I'm hungry and I'm ready to learn.”
“How crude,” She hmphed, but still picked up the teapot delicately, her tail feathers twitching back and forth. She raised her wings back up in a proper manner, but she never really fully regained her primness, still a little bit disheveled by whatever she was reminded of upon Shedletsky’s question. “I will pour your tea for you—any refills that you desire, you are to ask me,” She clarified, pouring the warm tea into his small, dainty cup. All of the plates and cups and platters were made of delicate porcelain, painted with floral designs.
“Uh huh. Got it.” Shedletsky nodded, glancing down, actually trying to focus up. Not just to appease this fussy nestling, but also because this seemed like a pretty good arrangement so far, he didn't really want to fuck it up for himself like he usually did with all the sarcastic little remarks that seemed too good not to say.
“How many sugarcubes would you like with your tea?” pr3typriincess followed up, clasping her hands together.
“Uuh…” Shedletsky looked up, glancing around. Like, eight, but he probably couldn't ask for eight sugarcubes, because he was attempting to be polite. “How many do you usually take?”
“Eleven,” She deadpanned, staring him down. Her tone was flat, not ashamed but not proud.
“Yeah. That many.”
“Joy!” She smiled, kicking her feet back and forth as she gently dipped them in on a small spoon. Then, she carefully stirred the teacup, mixing it together. “There we are.”
-
Shedletsky eventually managed to make it through the meal. By the end of it, mostly due to his growing lack of resistance, she seemed relatively pleased. For the whole meal, strangely enough, she sat right beside him, never getting back up and returning to her seat at the opposite side of the table.
Despite all of the patience he had to use, and despite the fact that it was even still a little stressful sitting beside someone who had maimed him a few times, he found that he definitely could get used to this, she didn't really care how much he ate at her table so long as he did it the right way.
She seemed pretty consumed by the food at the table, too. Not to the same extent as Shedletsky, but he came to learn that she had a huge sweet tooth, fighting an internal battle any time that she had to pass more sugar cubes.
The tea was just tea, but the sugar definitely helped. Shedletsky didn't know where any of the food could have possibly come from; he certainly wasn't complaining, it was all some of the best food that he's ever eaten (still pitifully in second place to fried chicken).
pr3typriincess danced around the question for a bit, tapping her feathered fingers together anxiously. Her legs kicked back and forth, her mannerisms leaning more towards a child than royalty for a moment.
“Well?” Shedletsky prompted, leaning back. “What's the real reason you invited me, huh? I know it wasn't just to eat with you, though that was pretty nice too.” He chuckled. “Must've been incredible witnessing the great admin Shedletsky at your personal dining table.”
“I know you jest,” She started, eyebrow twitching in irritation, before she wilted slightly. “But the company was nice.” Her fingers tapped against the arm of her chair, her other hand burying itself into her skirt, fingers twisting into the fabric. “Even if you're an insufferable peasant.”
Shedletsky scoffed, but he was pretty amused. He waited patiently for her to finish her thought.
“I am in quite the predicament…” One of her hands came up, fidgeting with the quills on the top of her head, curling one around her finger. “Just as you'd called out, my wings are in awful disarray. And I was…—” The rest of her words were inaudible, mumbled quietly into her collar.
“What was that?” Shedletsky asked, squinting and leaning in.
“IWASWONDERINGIFYOUCOULDFIXMYWINGS—” She blurted out, crossing her arms. “There, I said it, happy? I love my wings but I-I don't know what they're supposed to look like or what to do, and nobody ever told me what to do with them. And I considered you, a fellow avian, might understand and be able to help!” She said stiffly, like the words were being forcefully pulled from her lips. After she said it, she clamped her lips shut, waiting for a response.
Yeah. On one hand, she was a murderer, pretty remorseless in her killing. A dangerous and volatile self-proclaimed queen who used all of her abilities to tear down the other survivors meticulously and painfully.
On the other hand…his brain was giving off some very strong auhh but she’s just a little guy energy. A little nestling chick with absolutely nobody to look after her or teach her how to do anything. And Shedletsky was right there at some point, hands smoothing down his feathers, confused on why they couldn't just stay in place like hair. Nobody was there to help him or teach him, he simply figured out how to do it alone, through struggle. It was a long and painful and embarrassing process.
Shedletsky thought that he had long since disconnected with his stupid bird brain, but clearly he had not, because he still looked at her and got this gross protective instinct, to shield her from the world like she was something vulnerable. And it got increasingly worse the longer he spent with her, relating to her.
He really shouldn't. It'd just concrete this growing attachment, it'd just humanize her even more in his eyes.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. I'll do it.” Shedletsky had his strengths and weaknesses, and apparently this was a newly discovered weakness.
“You mean it?!” pr3typriincess abruptly stood up on her chair, hands perched on the table, her voice shrill and hopeful.
Last chance to back out…yeah nah, he was definitely stuck either way. “Course. Always happy to help out a fellow birdbrain.”
She giggled, kicking her feet back and forth. “For the record, if I'm being honest as a princess should be, I would have had you killed had you refused.” She hopped down from the chair, toddling away like she hadn't just threatened him.
Shedletsky really couldn't be scared of that little face if he tried, even still. “I figured.” He paused. “Though, just a warning, I'm pretty outta practice. Haven't had much feathers to practice on myself, y'know.”
“I could tell.” Her gaze flicked over to the sorry, abandoned state of his wings. “It's tragic. I'm desperate.” Her little hand grabbed his, pulling him away up onto his feet, and out of the dining room.
The hostesses were posted outside, probably waiting for anything bad to happen. She released Shedletsky, pulling at one of their long gown skirts to prompt them to pick her up. She smiled brightly as the hostess complied, delicately lifting her and placing her on its shoulders. It seemed like it would normally be a cute motherly notion if the hostess’ eyes didn't look so soulless…
Shedletsky shrugged it off, following after them. They went down a few hallways, before stopping at a door, pushing it open and setting pr3typriincess down inside before holding it open for Shedletsky.
It was a relatively large bedroom, a smaller sitting area in the corner and a large bed in the middle. It looked like a queen’s bed, perfectly made, probably a way too big for pr3typriincess. It was a little bit strange to see that she had a perfectly normal bed—Shedletsky could cope with laying stomach down in bed, but it wasn't an ideal situation, so why would an avian with so much access to any comfort that they could possibly wish for insist on sleeping there?
“Well, I mean, that there’s your problem,” Shedletsky mentioned, gesturely vaguely towards it. “You don't have a nest.”
“A nest…?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “Like a bird??”
“You are a bird.” He stared at her.
“I am an avian,” She insisted, crossing her arms. “There is a difference!”
“Ehh. Not really,” Shedletsky commented, glancing around at the room. “I think the issue of you being a bird is pretty trivial compared to you neglecting all the parts of being a bird. Y'know.”
“Mmm.” pr3typriincess sighed heavily, her posture slouching. “I still do not like being called a “bird”.”
“Avian. There, you happy?” Shedletsky huffed, rolling his eyes.
She nodded.
He strode across the room, looking down at the carpet. He'd figured that she'd have called him out by now, told him to put some shoes on or something, but she hadn't. It'd be kinda hypocritical when she couldn’t wear shoes. He eased himself down onto the couch, once again taken off guard by just how nice the furniture was. The couch itself was pink with beautiful silver flourishes at the edges. It was plush and gave beneath him like memory foam. He let his eyes flutter closed for a moment, the soft material threatening to drag him to sleep.
When he opened them, he saw pr3typriincess fidgeting anxiously somewhere at the edge of the rug beneath his feet, her fingers stressing at the ruffles on the edge of her dress. She looked relatively nervous, glancing back and forth like she wasn't supposed to be there, despite this being her castle.
“Well? I don't got all day.” He super did have all day. Regardless, he patted the space on the couch beside him, giving her a brief and hopefully reassuring smile.
She nodded, sitting on the couch beside him. Slowly, hesitantly, she turned around, expanding one of her wings to reveal the brilliant pink feathers. The feathers were silver-white and fuchsia and pale pink out of order and disheveled. It was kind of a train wreck, but he wasn’t one to judge.
The colours were very vibrant and nice. That was a start. They might be like, the second prettiest pair of wings that Shedletsky had ever seen after he fixes them, he mused to himself.
Slowly, tentatively, he reached out. No matter how gentle his first touch was, it still caused her wing to twitch, her feathers to puff up, a little birdlike hiss escaping her throat. It bent something out of place in Shedletsky’s mind, the sound itself was territorial and fearful. She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, her face twisting into mortification. “I…I apologise. I don't know what came over me.” Her knees pulled up to her chest, her head starting to turn back.
“Don't worry about it, kid, it happens. Just, ehh…don’t bite me, please?” He glanced back at the way her feathers were bristling, the quills atop her head pinned back like a disgruntled cat. Her body was tensed up, and her short feathered tail was flared out, like she was ready to snap at him.
“I would never stoop to such a lowly form of defense!” She hmphed, turning her head away.
“Don't scratch me either.”
“I will…attempt not to. You may resume.”
Shedletsky gave an uneasy nod, his hand just lightly brushing along the back of her wing. It'd been a little while since he'd done this, but the feeling of feathers against his hands immediately brought most of it back.
She hissed again, this time more a fussy complaint than an actual warning.
Before he could really stop himself, he chirped at her in a scolding manner, a little stay the fuck still.
She immediately yielded, leaning against the couch as she kept her wing unfurled. A little croaky, buzzing chirp, relenting to his annoyance. Her wings started to smooth back over.
Shedletsky sighed, squinting his eyes to focus. He ran his fingers through the feathers, brushing them back into place and straightening them. He refrained from pulling out any dead or lost cause feathers because despite her asking for this, she was still extremely on edge. He just pulled out any shedded feathers and straightened all of the others.
It all sorta started to fall into place as he went on—her primary feathers were a glistening white, her marginal covert feathers were a vivid pink, everything in between was a speckled gradient between the two. The entire wing was coated in a strange, iridescent sheen, making them stand out very prominently against her skin.
When he finished with one, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Next.”
Without really thinking about it at all, she pulled the first one in, and extended the next one, which pushed into his hands with a degree of urgency. She chirped impatiently, fidgeting with her hands.
Shedletsky let out a slightly amused huff, not making her wait for too long. She leaned against the couch, her knees pulling up to her chest as she waited. Her feathers still bristled slightly at his touch, but the reaction was quelled the more he straightened the feathers. She had a lot of ready and unbroken pin feathers, some feathers were still half-encased in the brittle shell, the fluff along the main quill held against the shaft. He didn't know a whole lot about pin feathers, so he figured he'd just fix the ones that were obviously ready and leave any others.
As Shedletsky finished, he felt a little weight in his throat, like he needed to cough. He cleared his throat quickly, tapping her other shoulder. “All set! Check it out,” He said confidently, crossing his arms.
pr3typriincess seemed to snap back to reality at that, hopping up off the couch. She seemed uncertain as she walked across the room to the full length mirror she had, turning around to look at the back.
She fell quiet.
“I know, my preening skills are unmatched,” Shedletsky bragged, leaning back on the couch and looking at his fingernails. “You're probably just awestruck by my expertise.”
She slowly turned her wing, inspecting it fully, her eyes a little wide. “It is…” She stared intensely into the mirror, at the outer parts of her wings. “Passable,” She whispered, the word barely making it to Shedletsky’s ears.
“Well, that was easy.” Shedletsky stood up, his pose relaxed and lazy. “If that's all ya needed, I'll be heading out now—”
“NO—!” She exclaimed, a sharp hiss ripping from her throat. It was flat and small like a baby kitten hiss despite the clear ferocity it held in the context. Even though it was small and kinda cute, it still made the wings on Shedletsky’s head pin back, feathers shrinking at the clear and inconspicuous threat. “I mean…hehe…you don’t have to leave. My beautiful castle has many guest rooms,” She pressed, inching closer to him. Her wings were noticeably held higher than normal, tense and flat.
Yeah, this was probably a red flag. Yeah, a terrible idea too. Considering who she really was, and her general behaviour about the whole situation, Shedletsky probably should've been more alarmed by all of this. He should've blatantly refused, making some weak excuse about how Builderman was probably worried sick! And they were expecting him back, and all.
He wanted to stay. Could you blame the guy? This was the best treatment he'd received since—since his godhood, maybe! The pink was a bit of an eye strain, but it was growing on him, bit by bit. The carpet was soft, the entire place was sturdy and glistened like a promise, guarded to a ridiculous extent by those freaky hostesses, who seemed wholly under the watch of pr3typriincess, and she didn't seem to want him dead at the moment. If she could even kill him like this.
Before the more rational part of his mind could interfere, he quickly blurted out “Yeah, that would be great!” Builderman couldn't worry himself all that much, surely. He knew Shedletsky wasn't helpless.
And although the survivors would probably miss their brave and incredible leader sooo much in the night that passed, he believed in them, they would persevere.
pr3typriincess’ face broke into a delighted smile, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Really? I mean, that's fine!” She rushed over to the door, pushing it open with a little bit of difficulty and holding it. It seemed like a struggle, such a big heavy door and an eleven year old holding it. Shedletsky chuckled, though he stepped through. “Ladies? Would you show Shedletsky to his room?”
The hostesses nodded, gesturing for him to follow as they moved through the halls.
As he followed, he glanced behind him only once, to see her slowly fading smile as he disappeared around the corner.
-
Shedletsky jerked awake, holding his chest as he breathed sharply.
The phantom sensation of a sword in his chest remained, the steel buried into his heart. His body was sweating, it was warmer than usual, softer than usual. His hand gripped onto the edge of a plush blanket, and his eyes stared holes into the canopy above him.
He was not in the cabin, he was not home. He panicked, coughing on a loud panicked warble as he sat upright, looking around quickly. Nobody was around, the walls were pink.
He let out an exhausted and resigned sigh as he recognised the castle. His wings ached behind him, complaining about being laid on for the better half of the night, but he dismissed it, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
Not even in the best sleeping conditions he'd ever had could he have one good night’s sleep. His hands felt cold with blood, and he rubbed his hands on the blanket to remove the fake sensation, assuring himself.
The door creaked open slowly, and he stiffened, staring at the entrance.
One of the hostesses held the door open as pr3typriincess, a full garb of extremely comfortable and regal looking pajamas on, stepped in, blinking blearily. She looked tired, and a little bit disheveled, like she'd just rolled out of bed. She looked around the room, her eyes still small with sleep. A small trill emitted from her mouth as she stepped in, a noise of concern, blinking slowly.
“Ahaha—I’m fine, you didn’t have to get up or anything,” Shedletsky chuckled, pulling the covers off of himself and getting up. “You know what? It’s getting pretty early, I'll just head out now. Gotta get home before the next match, you know?”
She frowned. She grabbed his hand as he walked past her, a sad chirr on her lips as she pulled at him weakly. Don’t leave me. Her hands squeezed his, wings drooping low behind her.
He kept on pulling, ignoring how the sound made his heart fall and the sight made it worse, inadvertently taking her with him as he walked down the hallway. “I’m their leader, y'know? They count on me, they must be worried sick.”
pr3typriincess made another sleepy sound of complaint. “Why are you leaving?” She slurred, her words only half-audible. “I know that cabin is miserable—stay here, stay with me.”
He sighed, patting her head half-heartedly, petting down the quills that bristled in irritation. “It’ll be fine—” He coaxed her down the stairs until he stood at the front door, looking down at her. “Hey, I'll come back after this match, kid, how does that sound?”
Her eyes glanced up at him with an absolutely heart-shattering look, wide and wet and vulnerable. He might as well have been bleeding out in front of her with the way that she looked at him. “Do…do you promise…?”
“Yeah, of course,” Shedletsky replied, nodding to himself. Probably just because it was so damn nice here. Of course the killers got the fancy beds and beautiful castles. “Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky.
She smiled, nodding eagerly as she took it. “Very well. My hostess shall be awaiting your soon arrival, then.”