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Looking around, a few people came and went through the kingdom, and the dracolich merely stood by, observing. Eventually she grew bored, restless. Something didn't seem right, and she felt the need to move. She could have followed others, gone to speak with them of what was happening, but something nattered at the back of her head, chewing slowly into her brain. She wandered about the Kingdom, once again drawn into her own thoughts.

It would be sometime later when she came around again. The sound of people talking drew her attention. There was a fair sized group gathering down to one side of the land. For a moment, she contemplated going to be with them. That moment was brief, however, and the urge to be with them passed. Instead she found herself drawn elsewhere.

{{ Exiting }}

"I am relieved to see you here in one piece," Harland said, checking Crispin for any wounds he may have in desperate need of attention. It seemed like they were no worse than those on the others who had gone into the labyrinth; all worse for the wear, really.

"I am sorry for my outburst while picking flowers... I am sure you realized why?" he added, sincerely sorry he hadn't been polite to the two of them. He was about to say something else, when Alas appeared, leaned on them, and then-- was he trying to slap them?

"I guess that means I won," Harland gloated, grinning despite his exhaustion and pain. He noticed Alas was not getting up, however, and removed his own previously-white jacket. It seemed to be at least faintly mud-repellant, even if the rest of him wasn't-- it was leather, after all, and well-oiled to keep the dirt and debris off even in that wretched swamp. White leather, his favourite jacket, with golden embroidery.

He draped the jacket over Alas, and slumped to the ground beside him, still leaning against the wall, dragging his back down over it. He wore only a plan shirt, having removed that jacket, and his golden-tan skin was covered in freckles. "Crispin, the ground is unusually soft. Would you care to join us?"

[ entering ]

Ash returned to his kingdom as his true self, a seething mountain of rage and ferocity and murderous intent. It sang in his veins as he paced the a length of land near the Violet Kingdom's perimeter. He gnashed his teeth, massive great knife in hand as if it weighed nothing at all, massive blade dragging against dilapidated brick.

Ash seethed and seethed and seethed.

Remi returned a second later looking the same as before, with only a few minor differences. He has bulked up slightly, was not as thin, and was a little broader around the shoulders.

Oh and he was crying, that part was true too. This world looked SO familiar now, so much like home to a half of him. It called to that side of his memores, beaconed, but he knew he could not stay here. These feelings, this place, was not his.

Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone standing and looking.....really..really different. Grown, but he still had that look to him. The only reason Remi did not start to strip off the heavy purple drape and the jewelry right now, was that he was not certain it was time to blow the cover or be...different. Remi could act.

Approaching the man whom had grown like a weed on crack, Remi gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Either he had remembered too, or he had a HELL of a growth spirt recently. "....Ash?" He whispered, a question. He did not know the boil personally, but had seen him around before enough to know his name back in Amity.

"ohshitcakes" He managed to squeeze out as his ears instinctively pinned backwards. THe expression that looked up at the GARGANTUAN of a man was one of fear, only adding emphasis to already puffy eyes from the tears. He resisted the natural urge to reply with 'mymy what sharp teeth you have..'

It took the briefest of moments, one second he was clearly there and the next there was a lighter than weight feeling. Whomever told you it feels like forever between moments such as these is a ******** liar, because all he knew was one second there was teeth and the next there was PAIN. A loud noise sounded around as his body hit the wall. If it was a normal wall, he was certain he would have crashed through it. No... this was a STONE wall. Stone walls dont move for anyone.

What did his mother tell him about poking the things that could squash him in a instant? Oh yah, DONT.

Crumbled on the floor, his tails splayed out behind him, he pushed himself up with his arms, now feeling even more vertically challenged than previously. Seriously the manmountain drank his milk too much as a scarling. That briefest of moments was enough though, that pause. The marking on his hand matched the one on his shoulder, currently still hidden by the purple drape. Trembling hand reaching out, he moved the damn heavy cloth just enough to show he had the same marking.

"This is halloween halloween..." He muttered the soft tune, hoping that was answer enough for Ash, whom he would now call Man Mountain silently. Of course Remi would not give a straight answer, while he was currently scaredshitless of the man, his snarky tongue was also a defense mechanism. Albeit, not a good one.

Ash stared down at Remi, on edge, lip curled back.

There was so little time. The war would begin, soon, and he would need to use the opportunity to destroy everything and everyone that blocked his path to the False-Thackery.

It took a moment, but the Kitsune's song stirred recognition in Ash, and he pulled back, fist clenching instead. A polite man-- a good man-- would offer Remi his hand, would help him up and apologise for the confusion.

The reaper was drifting further and further from being a good man, these days. Nonetheless, the reaper stood back, arms down, hackles lowered.

"Do you accept the task provided to us through the vision? To destroy everything, the false idolatry and the false shades of our allies, so we may save that which we love?"

She looked to him, but only for a brief moment, before her eyes went hazy and for those same seconds she was gone to where they sat. The single crack in her memories was easy for a kitsune to pick through - illusions were their specialty, after all - and it was with a gasp that Tomoko suddenly jerked out of a dream that felt like it had lasted too long - and yet nothing else had changed.

Except the two of them. They had changed - changed back. In one swoosh of her tail, it split into eight - as if it had always been that way and those who hadn't noticed were just blind to it, their flames igniting in unison. But beyond the intricate key that blossomed (almost literally) on the back of her arm, that was all that changed. A key, tails, and a flower marking. At least physically, that was.

She briefly touched his face with a smile. "Of course I am. So are you." she assured, leaning into the cerberus when he pulled her into his arms. Maybe she should have found it uncomfortable, or scandalous even, to let him hold her like that, and yet of all things that were suddenly within her knowledge, that was the most safe and comfortable place to be.

(Certainly she didn't want to be over by Ash. He was throwing people. That wasn't comfortable at all.)

She slowly looked towards Thackery as well, frowning at the Voice that spoke of sacrifice - of battle. But it was no longer their battle.

Everything passed by in a blur.

"Vaska," he turned to see the man nearby, hugging himself and his stole. "Vaska! Hey..."

He was sliding off of the wall, when suddenly Alastair appeared, grappling the three of them in a smelly hug. They all reeked like the bog, but Crispin didn't care. His eyes were misty when Alastair finally pulled away.

Then there was almost a light little tap at his face, and Alastair sunk to the ground, curling into a little ball of pain. Crispin's blonde eyebrows bowed upwards.

"... Sure," he muttered, sliding to the ground. He threw Harland a worried look-- trying not to suddenly lapse into staring at the sudden lack of jacket.

"But ah, worry not, Harland. We were all in bad temper..." Crispin gave Harland's shoulder a gentle pat, and added in a quieter voice: "I understand."

He let his hand slide away, looking around the small garden area for Vaska. Crispin squinted, catching the form of the smaller man being tended to by Violet Kingdom's very own King. Well, that would have been an interesting tidbit of news, once upon a time.

Crispin looked back down at Alastair.

"... Wait," he muttered. Something, a Voice, spoke to them about battle. A chill ran down his spine.

A way to keep his friends safe... or at least, safer. His blue eyes were suddenly bright.

"I have an idea. Let me speak with the king, Harland."
It might not have been the greatest of ideas, but Crispin was exhausted, utterly drained, mentally and physically. He'd lost so much spirit, feeling so useless and lost... without a home, without a position.

But the thought that he might be able to protect Alastair and Harland from further harms gave him purpose.

Crispin pushed himself up, not waiting to hear any other opinion on the subject. He was determined to do this. He wanted this! Something, anything, to make him feel like he was grounded! To keep the remnants of Silver Kingdom safe!

"King!" he called hoarsely, wobbling towards Thackery. "Might I have a word?"