Chapter 123: Homemade Horrors
Chapter 123: Homemade Horrors
For a beautiful moment, it’s just the two of us, squeezing each other with all our might because, despite all our fears, we actually can. We’re here, together again. I’m curled all around her, tentacles twisting around every inch of her body as I hold her close, Rosco nestled between my physical form and hers.
Something stirs inside her and her soul pulls for mana, but the Watcher cannot reach her here. Surrounded by my soul, she is cut off. I offer her myself instead, releasing my own mana around her, and the grand recesses of her being gladly pull me in. Greedy for power as she is, she sucks up more and more of me, but I hardly mind. Dancing around the inside of her spirit, I press myself lovingly along the impossibly complex pathways within; a nuzzle here, a slight squeeze there. I get to cuddle her from inside and out! There’s love for me in here, and I get to bask in it directly, warming me from all sides.
Penelope immediately quirks a confused eyebrow, startled by new and confusing sensations.
“Is… this you?” she whispers.
“Mmhrm,” I confirm, my face nuzzled too far into her shoulder to articulate further.
“It’s… so different,” she murmurs. “So very different. Pleasant, not dangerous. Easier. Channeling isn’t like this.”
“Watcher mana doesn’t like to be channeled,” I mutter, slightly annoyed to be talking about it rather than just basking in it. “I like it. As long as it’s you.”
“It’s… odd,” Penelope remarks. “But good. Like being hugged from the inside.”
“I am hugging from the inside,” I mumble. “Snugglin’ up. You’re my soul blankie.”
She chuckles, running her hand over my barely-fuzzy scalp.
“I bet I could hold a lot more of your mana in me than Watcher mana, if you aren’t fighting me. More maximum power.”
“Mmm,” I sigh, giving up on the hope for more silent cuddles. “That sounds nice. Just don’t cause a mana annihilation inside your soul. That’d be bad, prolly.”
“Ah, yes, I suppose that’s a downside,” she agrees, tracing a finger around the eye on my temple. “When did you grow this?”
“Dunno,” I grumble. “I kind of lost track of time. A few months ago, I think? There’s one on my thigh, too. And my arm-tentacle… ugh. Can you get rid of it all?”
“Certainly,” she agrees. “Though if that means you aren’t growing these things on purpose… well, that’s concerning. We should focus effort into looking into why that’s happening first.”
I grunt in agreement. I guess that sounds like a good idea.
“What about your eyes?” I ask, changing the subject. “I can’t imagine they’re anything but intentional.”
“Do you like them?” Penelope preens.
“Eh, yellow is probably my least favorite color,” I answer honestly.
…Oops, disappointment fills her immediately.
“Uh, but, um… y’know, it’s never been important to me how you look,” I quickly remind her, scooping her up into a tentacular princess carry. “And your soul has gotten much prettier since I last saw you. The mask is starting to come off. If, uh, that’s why the eyes are like they are, please keep them!”
Penelope’s eyebrows raise, a smile returning to her lips.
“Watcher’s eyes, Vita, was that a social skill you just used?” she taunts. “Prison really has changed you.”
I wince.
“I… well. I guess so,” I admit. “I didn’t have much to do other than watch people and massage my ocean. It’s… it’s really good to be back.”
Penelope leans into me, smirking slightly. It’s… so surreal, being here with her. She’s different, but not as much as I’d feared. I hate, hate, hate that the vast majority of the time she’s been my ‘girlfriend,’ I haven’t even been able to talk to her. Yet still…
“Go ahead and brag,” I tell her. “I know you want to.”
“Oh, well,” she hums. “If you insist.”
She languidly extracts herself from my arms, taking a dramatic pause for effect as a grin splits her face, revealing an impressive pair of fangs.
“I fucking did it,” she hisses gleefully. “I stole you from the highest-security prison on the goddamn island and they won’t have the slightest shred of evidence I was involved. This could not have gone more perfectly.”
Lyn awkwardly clears her throat.
“Er.. sorry, Lady Vesuvius, you two are like super incredibly cute and all, but I gotta protest that one. One thing kind of went very wrong.”
Penelope sighs, extremely put out by having her monologue interrupted, but she waves Lyn to continue.
“Go on then, what’s the bad news,” she grumbles.
“Well… Vita kinda sort of maybe let Ars out of jail, too,” Lyn continues quickly.
“She what!?” Penelope shrieks.
“Oh yeah, that guy,” I nod agreeably. “He’s apparently kind of my dad, or something.”
“He’s what!?”
“And a splice was my mom, I guess? Y’know, before I was an orphan and eventually got a better mom.”
“Aww,” Lyn coos.
“Where is Ars now?” Penelope demands.
“No idea,” I shrug. “He killed himself and flew away.”
“Shit,” she hisses. “Would you be able to recognize him if you see him again?”
“Oh, totally,” I nod. “Dude’s soul is real freaky. Very distinctive, he’s like a patchwork quilt sewn entirely out of ‘fucked up.’ I also destroyed the little thingy he put in my soul that made me unable to remember him.”
“…Of course. Well. Good, I suppose,” Penelope grumbles. “And how long is your sensory range now?”
“No idea,” I answer. “Miles, at least. I think it improved even more after I started eating metal.”
“…Watcher’s eyes, I forgot what it was like being around you,” Penelope laments, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well, I’ll need you to vet everyone important, then. And… I suppose I’ll just need to take it on good faith that you aren’t compromised.”
“Eh, Skyhope is probably fine,” I say. “If I were Ars, the absolute last place I’d want to go is anywhere near the Inquisition. He was captured for like, fifteen years. I’d want dozens of countermeasures before getting close to anywhere with Templars again.”
“…And yet, you’re here,” Penelope points out sardonically.
“Well, yeah,” I say. “You and my family are here.”
She chuckles, shaking her head.
“I missed you so damn much, Vita,” she says. “Now give me a moment, I’ll need a while to cast this teleportation spell to get us back.”
“Then we’ll take our leave, I think,” Netta says. “Unless you need anything, Vita?”
“No, I’m good,” I confirm, grinning and walking over to give both hunter Revenants a hug. “Thanks so much for getting me out of there, you two.”
“It wasss truly our pleasssure,” Mateo hisses, curling around me and giving me a light squeeze back.
“Is it cool if I split to go check in on the family? Give ’em the good news?” Lyn asks.
“Of course,” Penelope nods. “Just do not be seen.”
“Yes ma’am,” Lyn answers with a mock salute, then dashes away towards Skyhope.
“…Huh,” I mutter. “I figured Lyn would never even think about traveling the forest alone.”
“I’ve given your mother extensive modifications,” Penelope answers, shrugging. “She’s effectively immune to poison and disease, has a bone structure strong enough to stop nearly any attack, and can regenerate a limb in under a tenday if she eats enough. Add that to being naturally fast enough to escape any threat, and… well, she’s rather bolder now.”
“Huh,” I say. “Neat. I assume you’ve done all that to yourself, too?”
She smirks.
“Plus a bit more, yes. Now if you’d kindly direct me a bit more mana, I should be able to safely consume it all for this teleportation spell.”
“Oh yeah,” I nod. “Sure. Tell me when to stop.”
About fifteen minutes later, Penelope grabs my hand and I’m suddenly somewhere else. I stagger, overwhelmed by such an oppressive silence. There are… six people here, counting myself. Then, well over what must be a mile away, I feel souls on my periphery. But in between? Hardly anything but worms and dirt. The intense quiet that’s normally below me is now… everywhere. Above, below, around… it’s so lifeless.
“We’re… very far underground,” I whisper, because for some reason it just feels right to be quiet.
“Mmhmm,” Penelope confirms happily. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
“And welcome home to you, Lady Vesuvius,” a disturbingly familiar voice coos.
Penelope goes white as a sheet, a sudden panic ringing in her soul as a short woman who looks exactly like me walks into the room. Well, to be more accurate, she looks exactly like I remember looking two years ago, with a mere two eyes, raven-black hair down to her shoulders, and a solid two inches under me in height. (Nice, I grew a little!) Suffice to say, I am caught by surprise on this one, partly because her soul is totally different from mine but mostly because she’s dressed like one of the fucking pole dancers at Sky’s casino.
“Uh,” I begin, watching Penelope go beet red beside me, “what is this?”
“A mistake,” Penelope hisses.
“I am Nugas!” the me-clone responds happily. “You must be Vita. It is so wonderful to finally meet you.”
“I… wow,” I manage. “You got me, Penelope. I have no idea whether to be disgusted, creeped out, or flattered.”
“I would be so very pleased if you chose to be flattered, Lady Vita!” Nugas beams.
“Did you seriously make a living fuckdoll of me?” I ask, bewildered. “I knew you had it bad, but again: wow.”
“She’s not a… a fuckdoll!” Penelope snaps. “I didn’t fall that far. I just… in a moment of weakness, I—”
“You turned someone into a sexy clone of me in a ‘moment of weakness?'”
“Months of weakness, then,” Penelope hisses, brimming with shame. “I lost hope. I was angry. So I poured my research into our dedicated animancy test subject. Something poetic, desperate, and cruel.“
“I don’t think you’ve been cruel, Lady Vesuvius,” my copy reassures her.
“Of course not,” Penelope grumbles back. “You don’t think anything I didn’t make you to think.”
For the first time, the ghost of my face frowns.
“…Well, perhaps those words were cruel,” Nugas responds.
Penelope looks away, flinching like she’d been slapped. What the fuck is going on?
“Can we back up for a moment?” I ask. “Penelope, when you say ‘our dedicated animancy test subject,’ do you mean…?”
“Yes,” Penelope grunts. “This used to be the man Sky assigned to guard your family. The one that let Angelien die.”
I raise my eyebrows at her, though the eye on my temple twists to glare at Nugas. This is him? He… well, no, she feels completely different. Not the least because she strongly considers herself a she. The thug didn’t. It’s completely unrecognizable as the source soul in so many ways.
“I’m leaning towards being disgusted now,” I admit.
“It was meant to be a punishment for him,” Penelope mumbles miserably.
I blink at her.
“…Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No,” Penelope insists. “I’m explaining. It was a punishment for him, and it was a good one. The way he screamed when he realized what I was doing to him, Vita… oh, it was so much more than any physical pain I could have given him. It was beautiful… and that’s the problem. I was too… too caught up in how fucked everything had become at the time to realize it, but in retrospect it couldn’t have been more obvious that I was just indulging my absolute worst tendencies. I didn’t just take the mask off, I shattered it and shat on the pieces. This… this is nothing but a reminder of what I am at my worst. Of what I can’t ever let myself do again. So I would prefer if we just… forget about her and move on. I’m sure your Revenants have missed you.”
“Penelope, if you hate this person so much, why don’t you just change them back?” I ask.
“If I may be permitted to answer that, please?” Nugas asks demurely.
Penelope just looks away, which I assume she interprets as permission to continue.
“I remember the man I was made from,” Nugas tells me. “I remember him sobbing as my body shrunk and softened. I remember screaming as she cut him out of me, flaying his joy and hate until they were tender enough to mold. Lady Vesuvius killed him so that I could grow from his corpse. I do not wish to die the same way. I implore you, Lady Vita, to not consider us the same. He was a foul, selfish, and evil man. He hated himself, and I hate him even more than that. I am not him. We are not the same.”
I regard her, surprised by the conviction in her words, the desperate need to make me understand. And I suppose I do. This isn’t the man that let Angelien die. I could never have recognized her soul as such. Which just makes this entire situation even freakier, really. I expected Penelope to figure out a lot of animancy, but not this much.
“Okay,” I acknowledge. “I guess… it’s nice to meet you, Nugas.”
She beams, and I step past her, thinking. My own Revenants never freaked me out like this. Is it just because they’re mine?
“Can I get you anything for you and your guest, Lady Vesuvius?” Nugas asks.
“No, Nugas,” Penelope sighs, every word out of my copy’s mouth sending fresh sparks of embarrassment through her. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Lady Vesuvius.”
Nugas bows slightly, her pure blue eyes gleaming. Penelope catches up with me, face carefully blank as she tries to master her emotions.
“…Sorry about that,” Penelope mumbles. “I was so excited about your return and so busy with my work I never got around to changing her face.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” I dismiss. “She likes it more than I ever did. She can keep it.”
Penelope grunts, and I pick up a general dissatisfaction with that answer which links to her embarrassment.
“…You didn’t want me to know, did you?” I press.
“Why would I want anyone to know?” Penelope counters. “She’s convenient to have around, I won’t deny that. But she’s still… a mistake.”
I nod slowly.
“At what point did you start to regret it?” I ask.
Penelope glowers at me, so I lean over and give her a side hug. She sighs.
“When I made her love me,” she answers quietly. “That moment when I took her head and made it want nothing more than what was best for me… she didn’t dread my work anymore. She looked forward to it. And that changed everything. I lost interest immediately. That’s what made me realize every justification I’d given myself, every logical reason to do what I’ve done… it was all bullshit. I was only really in it for the torture. I had created an entire fucking person for no reason beyond raw sadism. I’m worse than my own parents.”
I squeeze her shoulder.
“Well, I’m really glad your parents made you,” I reassure her. “So maybe someone will be happy you made Nugas someday.”
Penelope smirks.
“But not you, and not today?”
“Oh, fuck no,” I confirm. “She’s freaky as shit.”
Penelope cackles, finally shrugging off most of her foul mood.
“I’ve missed your bluntness,” she sighs. “But yes, that’s… Nugas. I’m sorry that the first person you meet at my place had to be her rather than your daughter.”
“Eh, that’s okay. It’s been two years, I can wait five minutes to let you air your dirty laundry.”
Penelope flinches.
“She is a person, Vita,” she says softly. “Try not to forget that, and try not to let me forget again either. I’m trying to learn to embrace who I am, but… well, there’s accepting my flaws and then there’s Nugas.“
“Really, Penelope, it’s fine,” I reassure her. “She’s freaky but I do that kind of thing all the time. I’m not going to be a hypocrite about it.”
“Excuse me, did I hear something about dirty laundry?” Nugas asks, poking her head into the hallway. “Is there something I should clean? You do look rather ripe, Lady Vita.”
“No, Nugas, I was calling you Penelope’s dirty laundry,” I clarify.
“Oh,” Nugas purrs, running a hand lightly over the top of one of her breasts. “Well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind.”
“Watcher’s eyes, stop that!” Penelope snaps, blushing furiously. Nugas just cackles and re-enters the room she popped out of.
“She’s just going to be even more incorrigible now that you’re here, isn’t she?” Penelope groans.
“It’s so weird seeing myself nearly naked all the time,” I agree. “You did great work on her eyes, though.”
“Thanks, I suppose,” Penelope grunts.
We continue on, wordlessly agreeing to keep silent in order to both drop the subject and to surprise the first Revenant we see. Vitamin, Margarette, and Theodora are all here, but this place is way too fucking big for the five people it apparently normally houses. It feels like needless opulence, but I guess that’s the kind of house Penelope is used to. It’s not like Penelope is showing it off to anyone, this deep underground… so maybe it’s just what her context for a home is.
Eventually, we walk all the way to the room where I sense Vitamin. She’s sitting down, facing away from the door in a meditative stance. Energy flows through the strands of anima running within her tiny child body, pulsing and concentrating and dancing about with clear intent. It’s fascinating to watch. What’s it for, I wonder? Normally, the amount of power in each soul-strand is pretty much equal, but Vitamin is removing energy from some parts of her body to empower others, then moving it back, then moving it somewhere else… hmm. She’s training to optimize her strength wherever it happens to be needed, probably?
Either way, I break her focus quite thoroughly when I lean down and give her a big hug from behind.
“Guess who?” I ask.
“Hey Nugas,” she answers, turning her head towards me. “What’s uuuuuuhhhHHAAAAAAA!!!”
Her sentence transitions directly into excited screaming, quickly twisting all the way around so she can squeeze me back. I lift her up into the air, grinning as she squeals.
“Mom! Aaaah, mom is it really you!? You’re back? You’re baaaack! Margarette! MARGARETTE!”
“It’s really me!” I confirm, rustling her hair. “Has Penelope been treating you well?”
“Oh yeah, I mean, totally!” Vitamin confirms. “Best future mom ever. It sucks that we’re pretty much trapped underground again, but I’m glad there’s enough space to run around and practice martial arts and stuff. Keeps things from getting too boring. Plus, she feeds us. MARGARETTE! MARGARETTE COME HERE!”
“What!?” Margarette shouts from somewhere above us. Her voice is very different from what I remember. “I don’t want to go down the stairs right now, Vitamin! You come up here!”
“This is worth it!” Vitamins shouts back. “Come here, come here!”
An exasperated groan echoes down from the floor above, and soon after follows an ominous, resounding clack click-clack, clack click-clack as she descends down the stairs.
“Hmm, hmm-hmm,” Margarette hums tonelessly. “Don’t fall, don’t fall… woo! I did it!”
I sit down and move Vitamin to my lap as the continued cracks of something sharp and dangerous ringing against stone get ever-closer. Soon after, a monster of nightmares stalks around the corner and fills the room with its presence. A mortifying construct made entirely of pitch-black bone, a vrothizo skull stares at me with four hollow eyes and a statuesque grin. Attached to it is a vaguely humanoid torso, with bony arms and a structure that seems to be a ribcage until it starts to twist and undulate like rows of black-ivory tentacles. In place of human legs, six blade-tipped limbs grow from the thick, curved spine, clattering along the ground as it walks. A whip-like tail of anima-joined bone fragments finishes the aesthetic, tipped with a wicked two-edged blade. Though this creature could very easily be the skeleton of a vrothizo as-is, evidence exists of custom design and alterations: some bones are carved into shapes or broken into pieces that clearly weren’t part of whatever unfortunate creature died to make this body.
When Margarette the undead monstrosity speaks, her ribcage twists threads of mana to form the kynamancy she requires. A skeleton has no lungs, after all.
“Hey, Nugas,” she greets. “That’s a bold fuckin’ haircut. Odd outfit, too. Where’d you get…”
Margarette stops. I grin at her, lifting Vitamin onto my shoulders as I stand up.
“Wow,” I say appreciatively. “You went and made yourself gorgeous while I was gone, huh Margarette?”
“…Vita!” she squeaks back, rushing in for a hug.
She’s close to two feet taller than me, so I end up getting a faceful of ribcage. It wraps lovingly around my head and squeezes, which is extra cute.
“Oh Watcher’s eyes, you made it!” she blubbers. “You’re okay! You’re okay you’re okay!”
“I’m okay,” I confirm. “Now you’ve got to tell me the story of how you became a cool skeleton monster.”
“Oh, it’s your favorite kind of story,” Penelope agrees.
“Full of blasphemy?” I prompt.
She smirks.
“Absolutely brimming.”