The Red Moon
From The Birdhouse
There's a drizzle over Spawn Valley today, tickling Owl with raindrops as he teleports in. He spins around and re-orients himself before heading up the hill towards his spawn house. He desperately needs spruce wood but doesn't want to chop any of those big tall trees. Maybe he left some in his old chests. That would be so awesome—
Something is watching from the top of the hill. It catches his eye as he climbs the cobblestone steps, red popping against the greenery. A hooded figure, cloaked in crimson. He can't see its face but he knows, somehow, that it's staring at him.
"Oh," he breathes. Someone new? There's been a lot of new people lately. He hasn't met a lot of them yet and to be honest, he feels a little out of the loop. His curiosity burns to meet them, to introduce himself and be their friend. So nevermind the rain or the simmering unease under his skin, he wants to seize this opportunity before it's over.
He ignores the instinctual goosebumps that are prickling on the back of his neck and continues to climb the hill, moving slower than usual. When he reaches the top, he shuffles closer to the hooded figure. He doesn't have anything in his inventory except his tools and some bread, so he pulls out a small loaf and holds it out, smiling. The figure takes it.
Sometimes when he talks, other people can't hear him. It's like their ears are turned off. Just to be sure the figure knows he's friendly, he pulls out his communicator and types a greeting.
<owl> hi
<owl> :-)
Not even three seconds later, it pings with a frantic message.
<Finch> OWL WHAT ARE YOU DOING
Owl doesn't see the message, because he's too busy staring at the hooded figure. Its cloak is pretty, with shiny fastenings and gold accents. He should make a cloak like that. It'd look so cool and swishy. He opens the chat again.
<owl> who are yuo?
<Anima> Hello.
<Anima> What is this?
"It's bread," he says out loud, confused. Does it not know what bread is? Well... he doesn't know a lot, either. So he happily explains, "You're s'posed to eat it," and nibbles on his own loaf to demonstrate.
The figure tosses back the bread, effortless and a little disgusted. He barely manages to catch it before it hits the grass.
<Anima> I've no need for such things.
"Owl!"
Finch's voice snaps through the air. Owl cranes their neck to see him standing by the greenhouse, eyes blown out in panic.
They don't catch his emotional state right away. "Hi God!" they say, giving a cheerful wave.
"What are you doing!?"
"I'm making a new friend!" they say, as if it's obvious, and gesture towards the hooded figure. It turns to stare at Finch and his shoulders hitch up.
"Not everyone wants to be your friend," he says. Shakily, he continues, "Can you get over here, please?"
"But I..." They look between Finch and Anima, the discarded bread still pressed against their chest. What do they do? Finch looks scared and they trust him, but Anima just seems confused and alone. They don't want anyone to be confused and alone.
"Owl, come here!" Finch yells, and something in their heart twinges with fear. They aren't afraid of him, they could never be afraid of him, but his voice is filled with more panic than they've ever heard from anyone before, and it sends a shock of something to their core.
He's wearing a yellow shirt. He's calling to them, worried and fearful in the rain.
Their vision blurs over. The person in front of them in the yellow shirt— his figure is wispy like a ghost but he's safe. The stranger isn't, but he is. They should listen to him. He knows how to protect them. He's proven it, over and over again, and they've done the same for him in turn, and... who is he? Where are they? Why does their leg hurt?
"O-Okay," they murmur, and skitter around the stranger to his side.
His arm moves, as if to grab the bread— or maybe, to grab something else— and then he winces, stepping around them to face the stranger. The yellow shirt has a big daisy on the back. It makes them feel fuzzy and warm, despite the scariness happening right now. Maybe he's the one that makes them fuzzy and warm.
Standing so close, the ends of his curls tickle their hands, and they can feel his body heat. Soul blood seeps ever so slowly into his shirt, filling their nose with a strange metallic tang. The scent reaches them and suddenly everything sharpens into focus once more.
Oh. It's Finch. Finch has long hair. Finch hurt himself and got covered in blue. Of course it's Finch. It's not... It couldn't have been. They should know that by now.
"Come inside," Finch says to them, over his shoulder. They don't move. They don't say anything. They don't know if they can. After a moment he adds, "Please."
"Okay," they whisper. They follow him as he runs for the entrance, an iron door near the greenhouse. He holds it open for them as they say, "I know not everyone wants to be friends, but maybe it just doesn't know that it wants to be friends yet."
"It doesn't always work like that." Finch moves into the greenhouse to watch the hooded figure through the glass.
Owl runs a hand down the glowberry vines as messages ping on their communicator. They spot the multiple daisies blooming from the moss and flap their hands. This is the first time they've been allowed in the pretty garden and it's beautiful. No wonder Finch likes to listen to music and write in here. It's so bright and green and wonderful.
Finch audibly grumbles and they suddenly remember what's happening. They make their way over to the glass wall. Anima still hasn't moved.
<Finch> what do you want?
<Anima> Just looking.
<Anima> I see you've not cleaned up since we last spoke.
<Anima> Hmm messy.
"That was kinda mean," says Owl, frowning.
"Well, it's true," Finch sighs.
"Yeah, but it's rude to point it out!"
He looks back at Anima, expression unreadable. "I'll ask you again. What do you want?"
<Anima> My daughter. I want my daughter.
"I'm sorry you don't have your daughter. That sounds sad." Their heart pangs in sympathy and tears threaten to fall. No, they can't think about Daisy right now.
<Anima> Sad...isn't the word for it.
"She's not here. Go look somewhere else." Finch's mouth is set in a thin, even line.
<Anima> I can still have my fun while I look.
"I think Fravashi would know more than me."
<Anima> I'm sure you've spoken to him more does he know where she is?
Wordlessly, Finch turns and slides down the water elevator. Owl stays behind, staring at Anima with a concerned frown. Maybe Anima was just mean because it misses its daughter. And if they help it, it won't be so mean anymore.
"Come down, please!" Finch calls, voice wavering on the last word.
One last glance at the moon inside the hood, and Owl descends the elevator. The pretty birdhouse is comforting on the inside, especially the cozy living room they've landed in. There's a conversation pit near the wall and an aquarium filled with tropical fish.
Finch is pacing, brows furrowed, and only now can they really take in his appearance. Haggard and exhausted, with deep-set circles under his eyes and skin paler than the last time they spoke. There's a sticky blue substance soaked into his beard, dried all over his mouth and dripping like blood from his nose. It's dried on his shirt too, soaked all the way through the yellow fabric. Another daisy, smaller than the other one, is sewn into it, speckled with blue blood.
He sits down on the purple couch, sinking into the cushions and sniffling. As he stares at the fish in the water, another message pings.
<Finch> I don't remember him ever mentioning a "she"
<Finch> but hes a little cagey. so...I don't know if he knows or not.
<Anima> Shame.
<Finch> you might have to find him yourself and ask. Im not helping you do that.
<Anima> So you won't tell me where he is then
<Finch> I dont know who to trust, is the thing.
<Anima> Smarter than you look.
<Finch> rude.
<owl> thats not very nice
Finch glances at them, eyes glazed over, and Owl silently sits down a few cushions away.
<Finch> I know more than you think.
<Anima> Whatever. You bore me I'll have to find some other thing to do.
<The Judge> I'm watching you, Anima.
A sharp inhale from Finch, followed by a thick, reflexive swallow. He coughs and a few more drops of soul blood leak from his nose. Owl wiggles in their seat, uncomfortable but unwilling to break the silence.
<Finch> uh.
<Anima> Oh, now that is interesting!
<owl> theres so many new poeple who are you?
<The Judge> Nobody you need to worry about, Owl.
<Anima> And it's Animaverte to you. You're bold to call me a nickname.
<owl> well that just makes me feel like i gotta worry
<Finch> I am looking at a chat interface....your name is Anima.
<Animaverte> Is it?
<Finch> not anymore. Im not gonna argue with you about your name.
<Finch> Ill call you whatever you want.
<Animaverte> Hush, someone far more worth my time was speaking
<owl> was it me :-O
<Animaverte> No.
<The Judge> No, probably not.
<owl> :-(
<The Judge> You're worth the time, Owl. Stay away from whoever that is.
<owl> i coud be worth youre time i like making friends
<Animaverte> I've not heard of "The Judge" before normally I'm familiar with beings like you.
<The Judge> There is a lot you don't know.
<The Judge> Way more than you can comprehend.
<Finch> Im uncomfortable.
<Animaverte> Oh now I doubt that
<Animaverte> It seems theres a lot you don't know about me either
<The Judge> I guess we'll see, then.
<Animaverte> That's what I do best
<The Judge> There may be some similarities between us.
<Animaverte> Oh. Lovely.
<The Judge> Watch your step.
<Animaverte> ...Consider yourself lucky you've caught me in the state I'm in.
<Animaverte> Normally I'd not tolerate threats.
<The Judge> You don't scare me.
<The Judge> You can't do anything to me, that matters anyway.
<Animaverte> Whatever.
Finch sighs, leaning forward and staring at the floor. A single trickle drips from his chin and lands on the stone. He doesn't seem to notice. Owl scooches a little closer on the couch.
<Finch> ...where is Frav
<Animaverte> You tell me.
<Finch> I dont know. I cant...feel them around. people come and go here.
<Animaverte> So there is something interesting about you.
<Finch> a lot of people can do weird shit like that around here...
<Finch> The Judge is...strange.
<Finch> he was a part of me at one point.
<Finch> I dont really remember.
<Finch> thats just what he tells me.
<Animaverte> Oh?
<Finch> there are others.
<Finch> one makes it storm when hes around.
<Animaverte> Interesting. Maybe you're more than I thought.
<Animaverte> Or well...Maybe you were
<Finch> I mean theyre...still a part of me. I think.
<Finch> I cant see them physically.
<Finch> I woke up by something Squidbeak was building the other day. I never go over there.
<Animaverte> What that fork thing?
<Squidbeak> It's a trident.
<Finch> why is everyone here.
<Animaverte> Oh. Yes. My mistake.
<owl> hi squidface
<Squidbeak> Hello.
<Finch> go away.
<owl> tridents are cool i like to riptied
<Animaverte> *Riptide
Something unpleasant wriggles in their stomach. No one's ever corrected their spelling before. They know it's not very good, but everyone can still read it, right? They're not so stupid that no one understands? Maybe... Maybe Anima was trying to be nice. Finch is staring at them. They force their lips to smile.
<owl> oh. riptide!
<Squidbeak> I'm interested in this hooded figure. The red moon intrigues me. I started seeing it after Finch did.
<Animaverte> Oh! You can see me then. I think I bring a lovely pop of colour to the sky. Don't you?
<Finch> its an eyesore.
<owl> are yuo the pretty moon that i cant see?
<Animaverte> At least one of you has taste.
<Squidbeak> It's beautiful.
<Finch> -_-;
<Animaverte> Now you I like.
<Squidbeak> I built the trident so I could watch the stars. And the freezing rain up there feels nice.
<Animaverte> So you like the stars and the sea?
<Squidbeak> More the stars, now.
<Squidbeak> I can't escape the sea.
<Finch> why are you still talkingggg
<Animaverte> What's your name? Squibble? Would you say you're very familiar with this place?
<Squidbeak> Are you not using a chat interface? Can you not see my name?
<Squidbeak> It's Squidbeak.
<Animaverte> No I am.
<Animaverte> Right. Squidbeak.
<Squidbeak> Or, Jack. Actually.
<Finch> Jack?
<Finch> okay. sure.
<Animaverte> How quaint.
<Squidbeak> I suppose you could call it that.
<owl> i think jacks a nice name :-)
<Animaverte> Oh you're still here
<owl> yeagh
<Jack> Thank you.
<owl> your welcome!!
<Animaverte> Maybe that judge character is less interesting than I thought........
<Jack> You just don't like him because he doesn't like you.
<Jack> He's interesting. Trust me.
<Dell> What are you people fucking doing.
<Animaverte> Oh I just thought he was a god like me, but if he's part of this mess...
<Dell> Whatever. Don't fuck with shit and we won't have a problem. Got it?
<Finch> ....you get one of us you get all of us, I guess.
<Animaverte> Ooo this one has teeth!
<Dell> I sense you're going to become a problem.
<Dell> Do you have a soul?
<Animaverte> Probably not. I've never checked.
<Finch> dont check.
<Finch> or do. that would be interesting.
<Dell> Those with a broken or missing soul meet me eventually.
<Animaverte> Gag. I'm nasty enough just looking at the state you're in.
<Animaverte> If I don't have one it's because I never did.
<Dell> That's possible. I don't know if I have a soul myself.
<Animaverte> Huh.
<Dell> We will just have to see, then.
<Animaverte> The hell even are you all?
<Finch> wouldn't you like to know?
<owl> im owl
<Animaverte> Yes. I got that.
<Jack> We're several parts of a whole.
<Finch> stop!!! fucking!!!!! TALKING!!!!!
Finch curls up, shoulders brought forward and hair curtaining his face. His breath comes in short, angry bursts, entire body tense. He wipes a hand across his mouth and regrets it immediately, wrist now covered in thick blue liquid.
<Animaverte> Yes yes parts of a whole what's the whole? What are you? Are you a fellow god or just a pest?
<Jack> It's not as simple as that.
<The Judge> You. Quiet.
<Jack> Fine.
<Animaverte> My money's on pest.
<owl> why are yuo so mean?
<Jack> I'm more useful than the rest of them.
<The Judge> I said shut the fuck up.
Jack was silenced
<Finch> ??
<Animaverte> Shame. He's familiar with the domains of my daughter he may have known something.
<Finch> ...I know things. and The Judge can't do shit to me.
<Finch> I'll help you if you leave everyone else alone.
<Animaverte> Boring but fine.
<owl> i can help too
<Finch> no.
<Animaverte> Shut up worm.
<Finch> ...
Their breath hitches and suddenly the living room doesn't feel so cozy anymore. It's cold and sad and too small and— and—
All they did to Anima was be nice. They gave it bread and a smile and would've kept going if Finch hadn't come out to drag them inside. Does it not understand that they're trying to be nice? That they want to help?
Sometimes Finch doesn't understand, either. But Finch apologizes, he makes up for it with hanging out and being kind as much as he can, despite the circumstances. Anima doesn't seem like it wants to do that. Anima seems like it just wants to be mean for no reason.
<owl> ok
They set their communicator down and pull their knees to their chest, trying to ignore the sting of tears behind their eyes. Why do they even bother? They're too stupid to be friends with anyone. It's a miracle Finch is nice after all the sad things they've said, after all the complicated things they weren't able to understand.
On the cushion beside them, the screen lights up with new messages. They watch, trying to read as tears stream down their face.
<Finch> ...tell me what you want to know and I'll write as much as I can down.
<The Judge> You are testing my patience, Red.
<The Judge> If you want anything, being a huge cunt doesn't usually work.
<The Judge> Owl.
<Animaverte> You know what I want. I want you to help that little rat find my daughter and tell me where she is.
<Animaverte> We can speak more later.
Animaverte left the game
They notice the Judge calling them. But they don't feel like saying anything anymore. Even if Anima is gone, there's an imaginary wall in their head, blocking words from forming. It's all just noise. Sad, bad, stupid noise that makes them press their face into their arms, squeezing themself tight.
A strangle tingle goes up their fingers, and suddenly there's something solid and familiar in their hand. They peek at it to confirm— it's a daisy. Bright and comforting. Tied around the stem is a note, written so neat that it looks almost printed.
You are worth more than you know.
They smile, for real this time, and let out a breathy giggle. Sniffling, they pick up their communicator.
<owl> thank yuo mr judge
<The Judge> :-]