sheep_game | Myngle

[ Ananke's standing by the fountain, carefully stacking a concerning number of memory coins in one hand. Once he's sure that he's emptied his pockets he lays his other hand over the pile, takes a deep breath, and drops every one of them directly into the fountain's waters.

What follows is a truly dizzying amount of memories; easily a year's worth. It's impossible to hold onto most of them, but some scraps and snippets remain clear.

The scraps and snippets.

You're standing at the edge of a gaping hole ripped in the side of a space station. The horrible infinity of space lies before you. The interior of the station behind you is roaring with flames, but the weird talking armor is protecting you from the heat and smoke. A ship, your last hope of returning to Earth, grows smaller and smaller in the distance. You're alone in space on a burning ship; abandoned. You start screaming.
"Don't want you to feel like you gotta protect me," Paco says. You can't mask your surprise. "Protect you? I need you," you start. "You're the one who figured out all the angles on this stuff. You spotted the sensors on the way in! Face it, you're the strategy guy. I'm too busy re-learning how my own body works to handle any of that." You watch Paco break into a grin, "Just like every school dance." "Shut up."
The Green Lantern's face is cold. He manifests a phantasmal green drill and crushes you into the Earth. You're panicking, sure you're going to die here. You can't breathe. Your parents are never going to know what happened. Milagro's going to grow up without a brother. You don't want to die—
Paco drags you inside and takes a seat at your desk, rattlng away about a virtual beetle cave—when did he do this? How did he do this? "Paco, how many people did you tell?" "Two." "Damnit, Paco! That's—" Your mother's voice suddenly interrupts from somewhere deeper in the house. " ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎, language!"
This can't be right. This...this is your bedroom. It was your bedroom when you left 6 hours ago, so why is it filled with your little sister's things? Your mom hasn't lowered the bat yet—she's standing between you and Milagro... Is she that mad that you snuck out? You start apologizing for being gone the whole night, but the words die in your throat when your father steps into view. Your gut twists with cold horror. He looks like a withered husk compared to yesterday—he's using a cane. Tears of panic well in your eyes. You feel sick. "Mi hijo, what are you saying?" starts your mother. "It's been an entire year."
You have every troubleshooting manual in your system files when a damage alert comes in. Your host is on the ground, and you can see pain sensations radiating from the left side of his head. Another scarab, massive and at least 40% spines, looms over both of you. "This is what you were meant to be. I am the Infiltrator." The Reach mean to replace you? Unacceptable. You divert additional power to your armor, generate a shield for your host, and initiate Real Time Combat Analysis protocols.
Fuck. You're growing increasingly certain that the rope keeping your arms pinned to your sides is a lasso of truth—and is that Supergirl? That explains the Kryptonian genetic sequence the scarab picked up. Miss Martian hovers just out of view, snapping irritably, "You do not zap first! That is just rude!"
Your host's juvenile sister is tugging on his hand, demanding his attention while you're trying to point out the pick pocketer across the park—the first subject of interest all day! To your host's credit he does glance in the criminal's direction, but the child digs her fingers into his arm and stamps her feet. " ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎, he's gonna leave!" He mutters a quick "later" to you and turns his full attention on her with a chuckle. "Okay, okay! Where'd you see the ice cream cart?" Babysitting days are the worst, you decide.
When your dad offered to take you on a trip to his hometown, you weren't expecting this. It looks like a ghost town—all weathered shacks with rusting tin roofs; a single decrepit church past the residential area; a few homes completely caved in on themselves. But there are people here. "You want to understand why people do what they do, ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎, you need to see where they come from," he says as he pulls up by the least damaged building in the place.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ is gone. You have no weapons, no armor. Even your clothes are gone, but you can do this. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ is waiting for you. He transcribed The Reach's language into your brain in preparation, along with a complete knowledge of the ship's layout. You speak in whistles and clicks and your cell door slides open. The alien guard outside never sees you coming.
You wake up—a strange thing to do. Blearily, you recall needing to reboot. You recall initiating reboot in the upper reaches of the atmosphere. You recall—you extend yourself frantically into the integration points. Your host's vitals are critical; beyond critcal; beyond all acceptable parameters. True panic sets in and you activate every healing function in your host's body at once. Someone screams before everything goes black once more.
"I need you guys to be straight with me," you say. "What happened to my dad?" Brenda and Paco fall silent and share an uncomfortable glance. "Dude." "They— They didn't tell you?"
You hear him call your name—finally. You were beginning to grow worried. Your half of the plan has been completed for 327 Earth seconds. You activate your homing function and explode out of the pathetic containment field The Reach placed you in, blasting through the halls of the ship at near the speed of sound. You turn a corner and your host—your friend is on his knees. The Negotiator has a gun to his head. You have a split second to feel a burst of rage just before you slam (painfully, sorry ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎) into place on his spine once more.
Your mom lays her hand over yours, worry and uncertainty creasing her brow. "You know that if it never comes back, it's okay, right?" You have to look away. You love her, but she can't understand this.
Your mother cuts her lecture short to snarl over her shoulder at the Green Lantern, sparing you her wrath for a few seconds. "Is that a giant green fist?" "Um—" "IS. THAT. A. GIANT. GREEN. FIST." The lantern takes a nervous step back. You, wisely, manage not to laugh.
You're falling, again. You risk a glance down and immediately regret it. The Earth is way too far. What are your parents going to do? They lost you for a year once; is it really going to be for good this time? And Milagro... You'd wanted so badly to keep tragedy out of her life. She's too young to have to face this, but what can you do? Scarab has shut down. The enemy scarab, your last hope, would rather fight you than try to save even his own life. There's nothing left to try. As the Earth looms closer, you twist in the air to turn your back towards it. It's the last thing you remember from that night.

]

[ at SOME point during the day, Hannya decides to mass cubecall everyone except for Clover. ]

Yoooo, I'm lookin' fer information about the Gambler Demon. If ya got anythin', gimme a hollar. If not, ehhh, carry on an' shit.

[Laying on the beach, unmoving, watching the waves. One of her horns is still broken, just like yesterday.]

[today, Tyr and Yata from Thistle are going around knocking on doors (or catching people in the wild, either or). They've brought some fruit with them as well! Knock knock.

They're chatting locations in between]

Lighthouse might still be the best option . . . but up by the bouncy things could work, too.

[at some point when the beach is quiet, Mr. I’m-Still-A-Fish-What-Gives is going to wade out into the ocean at some point today, finding one of the spots where the moon jellies congregate

and like

just see if asking gets any response he supposes]

I would like to speak to the collective known as We Many, if they are listening.

[this team has done their due diligence and concluded that if they want a priest the demon is the best option, which really is very typical Lilylife

anyway time for everyone to gather around a table in the privacy of Lily barn. there is nothing on the table except a fine china plate with a demonic rune burned into the bottom, and a handful of very sharp knives]

All who feel comfortable giving blood…let’s summon her together, I suppose.

[AT SOME POINT, from the meadow, an exhausted pink sheep is crawling under the fence and back into the pasture, making her way back to the fountain.

She'll stand on it, taking a deep breath, before shouting.]

I'm--I'm, I'm so sorry for disappearing everyone! The truth is, I've been hiding a big something from you all. And, and if there's going to be trust between us, you should all know who I really am

I'm--!

Memories