Chapter Text
“Spoke bro- this is insane..”
Those were the last words spoke heard from his best- Mapicc before sprinting off; He didn't want to. He wanted to fight them, to slaughter them for even thinking about harming Mapicc, but what was he meant to do? He had no armour, no items, not even a sword to aid him in battle. He was helpless. Even if he did have resources to save the other, it wouldn't change anything.
Mapicc would still hate him. And null would still want him captured- or worse, dead. (Was that worse? Spoke didn't know.)
And so, that's how he ended up here, running past countless bloodthirsty ravagers, narrowly dodging death despite his minimal will to live. His legs ached, horribly. Breath already laboured due to the embarrassing amount of tears he'd spilled prior. He flinched, trying his best not to think about the fact his last shared memory with Mapicc was so pathetic.
The journey to the edge of the farlands was spent in silence; Spoke- ironically enough- couldn't speak, even if he wanted to, no noise would come out of his mouth. As if guilt from all of his wrongdoings manifested into a tight rope wrapped around his neck, preventing him from spreading more lies. Tightening each time he passed a desolate, once bustling Nether camp.
Spoke’s footsteps came to a stop upon realising where he was. The familiar sight of eerily tall grass arches made his stomach churn with nausea, the metaphorical rope around his neck almost becoming real in that moment.
This was Planet’s camp.
Awful. Everything Spoke felt, every horrible emotion, every self-damaging thought, compacted into a single word. awful.
Planet never asked for this. Truthfully, Spoke didn't know why Null captured him, guesses could be made on why a bounty was placed over his head- hell, even if Mapicc’s bounty was collateral, one could also argue that Mapicc’s crimes were aiding and abetting Spoke's misdeeds. (Even if he didn't want to. Spoke really hoped he wanted to.)
But Planet? Planet was just.. Some guy. He was just some guy who liked flowers and liked peace. Planet wasn't some terrorist or some evil mastermind, he was kind, he was helpful, he knew when to step back and let others help.
Was his crime also helping Spoke? **
The thought was enough to drive him to keep moving. He kept his eyes off the abandoned camp, averting his gaze at all costs.
Where was he..
Oh.
Right.
Planet.
Planet was a great guy. Surprisingly helpful during the whole mafia fiasco with Ashswag, volunteering to drop out of the mission as soon as the action started all because Spoke missed Mapicc. He regrets every comment he made about Planet’s… intelligence. He wasn't even that incompetent, he could hold his own quite well, it's just.. He didn't see that.
Funny. You notice things more when they're gone.
Like Leo.
The name made him cringe.
Despite his hesitance to admit it, he had fun with Leo. Back when Leo wasn't the-now-deceased-great-bounty-hunter-assassin-team-leader or whatever, back when Leo was Sword, and Spoke was Fish bucket.
Fish bucket. Ashswag's prodigy.
He dismissed the thought.
Back then, despite the horrors of the mafia, it was.. Fun. Really fun. As fun as a strict regime could be. They would go on stupid quests, laughing at the mafia members as they did so, having fun, he remembers chasing down Parrot, Wifies and.. That third guy.. Dean, he thinks. He wonders what happened to them. Parrot got uncomfortable around the mention of the two. He didnt try to ask again.
He remembers the first time they ranked up, that sweet taste of victory dulled yet still there, he laughs at the memory; albeit a weak, broken laugh, yet a laugh all the same. He remembers how disappointed ash was in him. his prodigy, failing him like that.
He remembers Rose. Then flicks to a different memory. Her scream echoes through his mind still, the sound of a body meeting dripstone.
He really should try to visit Quackenstein again.. Once this is fixed. He'll go with mapicc, drag Planet along, and Jumper, even if she complains; Maybe even bring Zam too; If he can find her.
A small part of him wishes Jamato was on that list, albeit a quiet one, but a part nonetheless.
Where.. Where even was he?
White eyes scanned the surrounding area, attempting to make sense of the land he stood upon.
Before him was miles upon miles of fractured cliff, the terrain distorted and broken in ways the normal man couldn’t dream of. He knew this place.
It was the outer farlands.
He'd made it.