Sunday Having 10 Copies Of His Outift Is Very In Chatacter - Tumblr Posts

✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : After speaking with Elio, Sunday comes out to join the rest of the hunters - that includes you.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 3.4k

✩ TAGLIST : @dr-felitas , @vxnuslogy , @https-mika , @greyrain23 , @red-ninja15 , @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio (send me an ask off anon if you want to be added !! if your name is bolded, it means i cant tag you)

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : COUGHS OUT BLOOD why was this actually hard BYE. not too happy w this one but yall will be the judge of that .... i hate this chapter's title but i genuinely have no idea what to name this chapter. maybe ill change it one day. one day… ALSO I HAVE. PICTURES. FOR THE CHATROOMS BECAUSE. I DESIRE SILLINESS. i have alt descriptions if yall need it xoxo. unedited.

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“Despite the recent reverberation in the Dreamscape, the Family reports that Penacony remains mostly unaffected, much to the relief of many Dreamchasers. The Charmony Festival is set to resume on the Radiant Feldstar with Miss Robin conducting the opening ceremony. As for the now fallen Oak Family, reports say that the former head is currently-”

With a click and a hiss, small blue flames flare to life. You hum absentmindedly as you set down a wok, pouring in some cooking oil, and then throwing in onions, rice, egg and other ingredients needed to make the only food you really cooked regularly: Cosmic Fried Rice - or at least, your rendition of it. Soon enough, the kitchen is filled with the savory aroma of your favorite comfort food.

Footsteps tapped lightly behind you, uncertain and uneased. 

Having been in the Hunters for quite some time now, you know each Stellaron Hunter’s footsteps like the back of your hand, and these are unfamiliar. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

“I’m assuming your discussion went well?” you say knowingly, mixing in soy sauce into the rice with your spatula.

Elio leaps onto the counter soundlessly - he never makes noise when walking, even on the rare occasion that he chooses to present as human. When you’d first joined, you’d thought him creepy for it, but now, you’ve grown used to it. You flash him a smile as he comes up to you, giggling as he butts your arm playfully with his head.

“Does the great Seer wish for a place?” you tease. Elio only meows in response and sits down with an expectant look in his eyes. “Alright, alright. And what about the princess?”

You don’t have to see Sunday’s face to know he’s giving you a less than pleasant look.

“I will not be needing any, thank you,” he says flatly. You raise a brow, glancing back at him as you open the cupboard in search of bowls.

“Are you sure? My food apparently has somewhat of a healing effect. It might help you feel better.”

He shakes his head, his expression filled with nothing short of exasperation. “No, I’ll be fi-”

Growl.

Sunday’s cheeks bloom into a rosy hue as his wings stiffen in embarrassment. Elio tilts his head, narrowing his eyes in mild amusement. You, on the other hand, are not so subtle and have to kick yourself to keep from laughing for Sunday’s sake.

“Okay, that’s a yes then,” you chuckle, ducking your head so that he couldn’t see your face and busying yourself with grabbing a third bowl.

Sunday coughs into his fist, his smile tight. “My apologies. As I spend most of my time in the Dreamscape, I’m afraid it has been a while since I’ve had my last meal.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” Elio speaks up suddenly. He is by no means a loud man, but when he speaks, you can’t help but be compelled to listen - much like your senior, Kafka. “I assure you, we have all seen worse. [Name] here just likes to tease.”

“...If you insist.” The chairs scrape against the tiles as Sunday takes a seat (Elio stays on the countertop, what for, you don’t care enough to ponder. Probably just wants to make sure you actually make him a bowl).

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure. Elio follows you off the counter as you make your way to the dining table. “I always make extra in case hungry little birds like you or Elio come running around. Just dig in.”

You set down a steaming bowl of fresh fried rice in front of Sunday, the lap cheong sizzling and gleaming and the rice itself darkened from the soy sauce. Sunday nods his thanks, placing his hand on his chest before taking the spoon you offered him.

Elio hops onto the chair that’s seated directly across Sunday. The Halovian in question gives him an inquisitive glance, but before he can ask how Elio is supposed to eat as a cat, the seer begins to warp in form. You smile knowingly.

In the blink of an eye, the black feline is gone and in its place is a young man with hair the color of pearls and eyes a blue so bright you’d honestly thought he’d dyed them. You often joked that Elio had the fashion sense of a sickly Victorian child, and he wouldn’t be proving you wrong today. With ruffled sleeves and collars, an asymmetrical ribbon tying his rattail of a hairdo, and a big bow tied on his chest, he looked as if he’d come from a period several Amber Eras ago.

“I should’ve known Destiny’s Slave wasn’t a mere feline given intelligence,” Sunday observes, a tinge of intrigue and awe in his voice. Elio laughs elegantly, his voice like a bell.

“Naturally, no,” he hums, blowing lightly on his food before taking a bite. “Who knows how long it’d take to write the scripts if I were.”

“You could always do voice-to-text,” you suggest, taking a seat next to the seer. Elio contemplates it, but ultimately shakes his head.

“Technology hasn’t progressed to a point where that method is efficient, unfortunately,” he laments. You nod sympathetically.

“Truly a shame.” Across the table, Sunday still regards his food with some hesitance. You tilt your head, opting to throw him a little encouragement. “I haven’t drugged it, princess.”

“That’s… not what I was worried about.” Although now, he does look a little concerned. “Are you sure it’s alright for me to eat this?”

You sighed. “I wouldn’t have given you any if it wasn’t.”

Sunday stares at his spoonful of rice one more time before he finally takes a bite. He braces himself for… something (you don’t know what it is and frankly it’s better for your ego that you don’t find out), but surprise and delight washes over him as the flavors begin to settle in.

“Not bad, right?” You can’t help but beam in self-satisfaction; the joys of watching someone enjoy something you made were second to none, except maybe free-falling off of a skyscraper while being chased by the local law enforcement.

Sunday nods. Despite his controlled movements and dignified demeanor, you can see a little bit of childish eagerness that managed to slip through and reveal just how much he liked the food. The pair of wings that lay right behind his ears flapped for a few seconds, before Sunday notices and immediately forces them to behave. You bite down another giggle, but can’t stop the corner of your lip from twitching.

“It’s delicious,” he finally manages, swallowing. “You have quite the talent.”

You chuckle. “Thanks.”

Before you go and eat yourself, you quickly pull out your phone to text and alert the rest of the Hunters, who are either out on a mission (Firefly, Silver Wolf), brooding (Blade), or doing who knows what in who knows where (Kafka).

Fondness warms your heart as you read the two’s replies. Silver Wolf has always been like a little sister to you, annoyance-inducing and all, and Firefly is your closest friend - although you’ll like to say that you’re close with all of the Hunters, even Blade. You wouldn’t be lying if you said that they were the closest thing to family you’d ever had.

You glance up at Sunday, who is now chatting amiably with Elio. His clothes are still the same ones as when he’d arrived from Penacony, meaning that they were somewhat dirty and roughed up.

Oh, right. You looked back to your screen. He probably doesn’t have any of his personal items - Kafka just snatched him and left it at that.

“Are you not going to eat?”

Sunday looks at you curiously from across the table. His bowl is almost finished, you notice - he wasn’t kidding when he said it’d been a while since he’d last eaten. Elio has disappeared without a trace, his bowl lying neatly in the drying rack.

“Yeah, I just have to text the others first.” You set your phone down. “What, worried for me?”

“Hardly,” Sunday scoffs quietly. “I simply didn’t want to see a hot meal go wasted.”

“I mean,” you take a bite, “were you going to eat it if I didn’t?”

You receive nothing more than a rolling of the eyes from the former Family Head in response. He’s more expressive than you anticipated - from what Firefly had told you, Sunday was more on the dignified, honorable, and refined side. But it’s a welcome change - you don’t know what you’ll do if you had another Blade on your hands.

Still, going back to the clothes… It’ll be a while before Silver Wolf returns with Sunday’s belongings (the script comes first, after all), and you weren’t going to let him run around in the same outfit for who knows how long.

You turn over your phone and click a button. Instantly, holographic screens pop up around you displaying all sorts of information, such as the spaceship’s current location and any planets floating around nearby. One of these planets in particular catches your eye.

“Well, aren’t we lucky,” you muse to yourself. Sunday raises a brow. You tap lightly on one of the many screens. It enlarges, showing a holograph of a popular tourist destination - Euphrosyne, a famous shopping and entertainment planet owned by the IPC. “Looks like you’ll be getting a new wardrobe sooner than expected.”

“Pardon?”

You lean back in your chair and dismiss the holograms. “Silver Wolf can only bring so much back from Penacony for you, and she’ll likely only be bringing back casual clothes or pajamas. You aren’t expecting to wear the same old uniform forever, are you?”

Disgruntled, Sunday looks away. “You’ve given me enough kindness by saving me. I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”

“Yeah, that’s the funny thing with gifts. You don’t ask for them, they just kinda appear.”

“You know what I mean.” Sunday lets out a tired sigh. He stands up and goes to wash his bowl. You shrug.

“There’s a tradition among us Hunters.” You stand up as well and make your way to Sunday’s side. Leaning in towards him, you smirk at the side-eye he gives you. “Whenever we get a new member - which is rare, mind you, we give them gifts as a welcoming ceremony, to help them get used to their new lives.”

“Is that right,” Sunday says dryly. He reluctantly pulls off his gloves and turns on the water. “And am I to presume that this new wardrobe of mine is your gift to me?”

“You could think of it as that.” You turn around to lean against the counter leisurely. “But it’d be more efficient if you were to come with me to Euphrosyne. I mean, unless you want me to take your measurements up close and personal-”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” Sunday abruptly shuts off the water from the sink. He’s turned his head in a way so that you can’t see his expression and his wings raise to further block your view. But, much to your amusement, he can’t hide the redness of his ears.

You trace the counter with your gloved fingers. “So… are you coming or not?”

“I… I’m not sure,” he says. “I am currently a wanted criminal. Wouldn’t it be unwise for me to walk in plain daylight, much less this soon after my conviction?”

Heels click from behind him, interrupting your conversation. You immediately brighten at the familiar footsteps, stepping away from the counter to greet your favorite senior.

“Webs!” you call out warmly. Kafka, the elusive wielder of the Spirit Whisper smiles demurely as she walks up to you and Sunday. “What’re you doing here? Last I heard, you were out near the Montour System?”

“Well, I heard there was food here, so I naturally had to stop by.” Kafka looks Sunday up and down, her smile growing as he stands his ground against her piercing gaze. “So, Birdie, you’re finally awake.”

“You must be Kafka,” Sunday nods politely, a tinge of wariness in his voice. “I’ve heard much about you.”

“Really now?” Kafka languidly crosses her arms. “All good things, I hope?”

Sunday smiles. “That all depends on whose perspective you’re looking from.”

“Ha!” Kafka raises a hand to her lips. “You’ve got quite the attitude, don’t you? That’s good. You’ll need that in our line of work.”

“Thank you,” Sunday says, putting a hand on his chest. His gloves are back and his hands have dried.

“I heard a bit of your conversation earlier,” Kafka hums. “So you’re heading off to Euphrosyne, huh? Seems like everyone’s going on vacation nowadays.”

“Sure am,” you reply nonchalantly. “His Highness over here needs a new wardrobe.”

“Is that right.” Kafka chuckles at your nickname for Sunday, while the man himself throws you another unamused look. You stick your tongue out at him playfully - everyone in the Hunters gets a stupid nickname from you, and he sure isn’t going to be an exception. “Well, don’t let me keep you for too long. I’m only here for the food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave her off. “Anyways. To answer your question, princess, we have a way of getting around security. But,” you cross your arms, spinning on your heel to fully face him, “we will need to do something about that fancy outfit of yours. You’ll look too out of place for our trinkets to work properly.”

Sunday steps out of the way for Kafka to pick up some rice of her own. “Then what do you suggest we do?”

You tap your chin a few times, thinking. Then you snap your fingers, suddenly enlightened with an idea. “I know just who to find. Webs, do you know where the old man is?”

“Bladie?” Kafka recalls. “Last I saw him, he was sharpening his sword in the training room.”

“Thanks.” You beckon Sunday to follow you as you make your way out of the kitchen. “Can you put the rice away for me? The girls will want some when they come back.”

“Sure. Have fun, you two~ Don’t get into too much trouble.”

There’s a skip in your step as you stride down the hallways. The walls of your mothership are covered in all sorts of things, ranging from Silver Wolf’s graffiti drafts to Firefly’s stickers, giving it a homey atmosphere.

“I should probably give you a mini-tour, huh.” You slow down your pace so that you can walk side by side with Sunday. “Where we’re headed into is the residency hall. Training room’s just beyond that, with our other… facilities.”

“I see.” Sunday chuckles at one of Silver Wolf’s graffiti, that one depicting a K.O. of a random NPC. “Your base is more comfortable than I’d expected. It’s almost cute, in a way.”

“Were you expecting a more intimidating setup?”

“I’m sure anyone would,” Sunday reasons.

“Fair point.” 

You pass by the various rooms of the Hunters, each with their own distinct style. Silver Wolf boasts a retro-style door that bears a resemblance to ancient arcade machines, while Firefly’s is decorated with various flowers and fairy lights. Kafka’s room is marked by a simple yet elegant mahogany door with gold accents. A classical string melody always plays from behind it. Blade’s dark grey door has no decorations at all - and truthfully, that’s how you know it’s his.

And then there’s your room, distinguished by the various polaroid pictures strung along the top of the door frame, accompanied by an assortment of flowers you’ve picked up from your travels. Some were more carnivorous than the rest, and others more poisonous. One of them even snaps at you as you pass (Sunday barely manages to hide his flinch). You’ll have to feed it when you get back.

“This’ll be your room.” You gesture vaguely at the sterile white door that lies opposite from yours. Its barrenness matches its interior - you know from experience. “We have some basic furniture in there for you, but other than that, how you decorate is really up to you.”

Sunday doesn’t reply. You pause from your tour to see him staring blankly at his future home. His expression doesn’t change - you imagine years of serving as the Oak Family’s esteemed dog have trained that into him - but his eyes are tormented by conflict, uncertainty, and, most of all, guilt.

He really does have a lot on his mind… The poor thing. You know that he’s going through a lot right now, but perhaps you’re going a little too fast.

“How about this,” you pipe up. Sunday glances at you warily, and you almost laugh at that. Looks like he’s already started to distrust you and your ideas, like any other one of the Hunters. Except Kafka. You love Kafka. “We can save the trip for tomorrow, let you get situated a bit before heading off.”

The Halovian’s shoulders stiffen. “I’m quite alright, although I thank you for your concern.”

You huff good-naturedly. “I’m a doctor, princess, even if I don’t act like one. You’ve gone through a massive change. I’d be more worried if you were perfectly fine like you said.”

His gaze lowers. “...alright, if you insist.”

You gently pat him on the shoulder before heading off down the hall. Behind you, Sunday stays there for a bit longer, before he inhales deeply, the breath rattling in his chest - proof of his exhaustion. His sterile white door opens without so much as a creak, and then he’s gone.

As for you…

“Hey, old man?” You call out, your voice echoing eerily across the walls as the doors to the training room open with a quiet hiss.

Silence is all that replies.

“I’m stealing some of your clothes for the new guy, okay?”

Still no answer.

“This means that you’re not getting them back until we get him new clothes tomorrow.”

Nothing.

“Cool. Thanks. Great talk. Amazing, actually.”

And that’s it. You turn on your heel and walk back to the residency hall so that you can raid your senior’s room.

When you finally return to kick open the door to Sunday’s room, you’re greeted with a very judgemental Sunday. He sits stiffly on the bed as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself - although that changed the second you walked in.

“I heard your conversation - or should I say, your lack of a conversation,” he says slowly. “Are you sure this… ‘Bladie’ is fine with this?”

“Well, he hasn’t stabbed me yet,” you say cheerfully, setting down the various clothes you’d grabbed from Blade’s closet. “In his language, that’s a yes.”

“That’s- What if he hadn’t heard you?” Sunday continues to press nevertheless. He reminds you a lot of a scolding mother. “If it turns out that he hadn’t and he becomes angered, I won’t-”

“Who do you think is the senior here?” You narrow your eyes challengingly. Seriously, this guy talks way too much. “I’ve worked with the old man for at least an Amber Era. There’s no way he couldn’t have heard me - he’s ancient, not deaf.”

Sunday doesn’t look convinced. You heave a heavy sigh.

“Look. Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re going to have to.” You take a look around the room. Yep, it’s as boring and honestly, as mind-numbing as usual. Elio always did like his poetry, and looking at this room, which had as much soul and character as printer paper (along with the color, too), it didn’t take a genius to guess what he meant by it. “There’s underwear and pajamas in there, along with some casual wear for if you want to roam. Blade’s bigger than you, but it still should fit relatively well.”

“...Thank you.” He sounds like a broken record.

“Don’t mention it.” You begin to leave the room, but stop just before you pass the doorway. “Oh, and princess?”

“Yes?”

“You do want to go with me tomorrow, right?”

Surprise flickers over Sunday’s face. Then, another smile washes over him - this time genuine and appreciative, not one of his politician smiles.

“Don’t worry, I do,” he assures, a bit of a laugh in his voice. “It’s been a while since I’ve last left Penacony. Seeing another world after all these years… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit excited.”

You don’t entirely believe him, but he’s sincere enough. “That’s good. See you tomorrow, then.”

He nods, already turning away.

“Yes. See you tomorrow.”

Bonus:

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