1.01 | 1.10

1.01 | 1.10

🪐 — STEVE HARRINGTON​  for  tommy !

fear clogs in his throat, heavy, leaving him breathless as the situation unfolds. there’s a certain unluckiness to the way they end up in these situations, a worry that has set up inside of his stomach and remains there in residency, never fading even when the world is meant to fall to safety. there’s something strange about @musecraft, something off that he cannot quite explain, except that it lingers, heavy in his stomach.        ❛   you doing okay, tommy?   ❜

      THERE’S SOMETHING ELSE IN HIS BRAIN,  but he can’t figure out what. all tommy knows is that he feels wrong, everything off, the world a little bit slanted. his head hurts,  &  there’s a ticking in his ears that he can’t figure out where it’s coming from, an unfamiliar chime played on a loop. &  then, all at once, steve’s voice cuts clean through everything else, tommy’s eyes going clear as they land on the familiar face. ❝ steve ? ❞  awareness of where he is returns slowly, tommy rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand as he tries to clear his thoughts. ❝ uh, honestly man, i don’t really know. ❞  he feels better now, but the strange sensation lingers, his breath still coming a little shallow into his lungs.  ❝ please tell me you have some kinda idea of what’s going on ? ❞ 

🪐 — BONNIBEL BUBBLEGUM​   for  marceline !

 ❝ ────── just one more ingredient and the fast-acting crimsonification agent will be complete! ❞    she announces to no one particular, even as marceline drifts under the candy-striped archway, quiet yes but not unnoticed. she studies the curious and bubbling liquid as she awaits the vampire to waft closer. patiently, she hums, allowing eyes to squint as she feels the frigid breeze of marceline’s shoulder approach, always the curious one watching from the safety bubblegum’s shoulder.   ❝ just one…more ────── ❞ she strains to remain collected, to no give away her following intention as an arm sneaks behind her hovering guest and plucks a thick raven strand right from it’s root. quickly, bonnibel tosses the strand into thick fluid, watching as it transforms to a swirling sworm of grey and dust to a glistening silver, and finally a vivid red  ― ❝ perfect! and just in time too! ❞

       HUNGER WAS INTIMATELY FAMILIAR to marceline. it had dogged her heels ever since she was a child in a city torn apart by the mushroom wars, scrounging for a dented can or an unlucky squirrel for her every meal. but after being bitten by the vampire king, hunger had felt different, like it had grown fangs.  &  it wasn’t dinged up cans of soup that she craved. red red red was her need now.  &  if she didn’t get it, the consequences were fast  &  severe. if her control frayed too thin, her features would contort into those of the nightosphere, batlike  &  demonic.  &  she would lose herself to it, do anything for it.                                                                                              but bonnibel would never let it get that far.  she was far smarter than marceline,  &  she always had an answer for everything. of course, the vampire queen could always pull some of the beautiful magenta flush from her candy-pink face in an emergency  &  leave them both paler for it, but still alive.  ❝ don’t exaggerate, we still have a few hours at least before i went after all your cherry-flavored citizens. ❞ she drifted a few inches off the ground, her eyes wide  &  black as a void as they observed the swirling cauldron that had swallowed up her strand of hair. ❝ so uh, should i just drink that, or are you gonna use it to turn something else red for me ? ❞  she knows from experience that with bonnibel, one should never assume anything was simple.

Margaret Atwood, ‘Corpse song’

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Our Flag Means Death - 1.01 Pilot