[ It's an abrupt end to what felt like a simmering story. There's explosions and murder, ghosts and magic, and a little bit of exposition that Claude hadn't expected. He supposes that their efforts amounted to something(?), and his number twitches, just barely, but soon enough they're forced along, leaving the illness and that dreary town behind.
Another car feels like another chance at progress, and Claude supposes that he's lucky that he's not afraid of the dark as he peers at the new objective on his phone. In fact, this seems deceptively easy... perhaps the cauldron will be difficult to find? It's not like they've been given a map.
The most dreadful part of all this is probably the fact that it's Sylvain immediately beside him. He briefly contemplates just ignoring him and setting to the task alone, but that's ultimately stupid when he doesn't know what lies ahead.
So forging past the awkwardness it is. ]
Hm. [ He casts the light on his phone out ahead of him, it barely illuminates more than a foot ahead, but it's enough to see the torch. ] Do you suppose it might be too much to ask for an easy job after the last car?
[ He picks it up, turning toward Sylvain so that he can take a look. ]
[ For Sylvain, the mines almost feel like a distant past, something he imagined long ago. (Another dream to wake from alongside Gautier, Hope Peak's Academy, Avilés...)
...Reality eventually settles back in, though he finds it difficult to sleep at times, afraid he'll fall into another delusion. (His side is still scored with ugly, half-healed marks as an unwanted reminder of the impromptu adventure he'd just emerged from.)
So when he steps into the darkness of this new car, he feels instinctively on edge, and it has nothing to do with Claude who happens to be beside him. (Though of course, that's not ideal, either.) He almost starts when the other boy turns to him, blinking hard out of his reverie and remembering—
—ah. Right. Back at Madam Vermeer's... (How long ago was that even...?) His shoulders tense a little, but his voice stays even. ]
Definitely. No way they're gonna let us breeze through any of these cars.
[ Sylvain appraises the torch best he can in the low light and carefully reaches out towards the tip of it, eyes flicking briefly to Claude's. ] —Hold it steady for a sec. I'll see if I can light it.
[ He summons a bit of Fire magic, but not even a lick of it appears. Sylvain frowns and tries again, feeling the heat of the flame cascading against his fingertips, but not seeing the result of it. ] ...Guess I wasn't kidding. [ Nothing here can be easy. ]
[ Sylvain's answer is more curt than he was expecting, and now that Claude is facing him with his phone, he can see that his expression is far away from the lackadaisical mask that he usually wears. He doesn't comment on it, because it's none of his business, and turns his focus back to the torch, frowning when Sylvain's magic fails to produce any results.
It seems like something is stealing the light. ]
Unfortunately not.
[ But by now, Claude is cluing in. Especially given the little bit of exposition offered up by the clownductor when they exited Minecraftia. It's not about power or ability, it's about character and growth, and he's sure that's the trick to lighting this torch.
What the exact method this car wants them to use... that'll take a minute of experimentation, he supposes. For now, he grips the torch and looks Sylvain in the eye. ]
I really appreciate you doing your best to light the torch.
[ If Claude was modern, he might think of this more as the "Step Counter Car", because its only purpose seems to be getting walking steps in but leaving the passengers in the dark to wander around aimlessly.
Regardless, there's no fighting objectives, so as much as this is a drag, he plays along.
And it's strange, because even though he doesn't fear the dark, something about being swallowed up by the inky blackness around them is eating away at him.
He looks at Zuko, and then holds out a hand with a sigh. ]
[ as claude and zuko travel together on the fitbit car, zuko finds himself.... similarly uneasy. he's never had any issue with the dark before, he's had to travel by night quite often, and.. well... it's strange, no matter how bright he makes his flame burn, nothing is illuminated. ]
[ he's more or less been walking tensely next to claude in silence, because he sucks. but when claude speaks up, his head whips around, almost cartoonishly, to stare at him. or, rather, squint in his general direction ]
What? Why?
[ that's kneejerk, and just a tad flustered, but after a second, he scoffs. ]
[ He doesn't take offense to Zuko's accusation, because he might not know much about the other boy, but he can tell the sudden request for intimacy is probably uncomfortable for him. It would be uncomfortable to most people, he thinks.
Hell, it's uncomfortable for Claude too.
(And besides, he's not scared, but there's something unnerving and uncomfortable winding up his spine. Something that leaves him unsettled, and thinking that, for some reason or the other, that working together with Zuko will make the situation better.) ]
No, but you saw that message right? Generally self-improvement involves some degree of cooperating with others.
[ He's still holding out his hand... You gonna just leave him hanging, bro? ]
[ Of all the people here, Claude has to admit that Dimitri is the least trying of the bunch to get stuck with. Even if he can be annoying sometimes. But for the most part, Dimitri is polite and minds his own business, and doesn't make a bigger deal out of things than he needs to, so wandering through this car with him is relatively peaceful.
They chat a little bit, it's mundane, falling into pockets of silence as they continue along.
Something pricks at the corners of Claude's senses, jolting tension up his spine and trying to force more urgency to his gait. He supposes that it's not impractical that there might be something in the darkness. A monster of some making.
[ Glad he wins the high praise of 'least annoying, but still annoying' award. On Dimitri's part, he doesn't mind that he's stuck with Claude for this strange task. Just months ago, he would never have anticipated walking literally hand-in-hand with his fellow house leader—their relationship had been mostly professional, with the occasional, easy conversation or ribbing on Claude's part.
But now, very far from home, he's found Claude a dependable companion, and now someone he owes quite a lot to. So he doesn't mind taking the lead into the dark, torch in hand as they march into the darkness.
Though it does make it clear that Claude's step is quickening a little, his grip a touch stiffer. The question would make him pause his steps, otherwise, as he mistakes it for something spoken aloud. ]
Do you mean me? I'm all right.
[ Still fatigued, I suppose... but he doesn't see a reason to go into detail. ]
[ There's a second where Claude's boot hits the ground underneath a little awkwardly, as he's speeding up and Dimitri takes a moment's pause. He manages not to stumble though, adjusting his pace so that he matches the other boy again.
He glances over oddly when Dimitri speaks, surprised to hear him answer but... Maybe he spoke aloud? It's so easy to get lost in one thoughts while wondering this endless space, that he might not have noticed. ]
[ So Claude... is rich enough that he's never really had to cook. He's peeled potatoes at the Academy, because everyone had to pitch in at kitchen duty regardless of status, and while he could do a decent job at making soup and/or a stew, he's never had to do anything as delicate as baking.
Not to mention, he's never actually seen half of these contraptions before.
He squints at the recipe, which lists out the steps for a Frangipane Tart but none of the actual quantities of the ingredients on their work table.
[On the other hand, Toko wasn't rich. She was just, um. Discouraged from eating. Sometimes by force. When she got a little older she made simple things for herself, but never lingered in the kitchen longer than necessary. She had writing to do.
Safe to say that she is staring at the recipe with a face as sour as the lemons in the fruit bowl aside.]
What? J-just because I'm a girl, I ought to be good in the kitchen? Am I f-failure if I'm not? [Toko's hands clench on empty air, already seething. She then bends below the station. Starts pulling out drawers.]
The rest of the recipe has to be s-somewhere. They can't do this to us. Th-they wouldn't ask something so impossible...
[ None of the women Claude knows are any good at cooking either (nobles), so Toko's comment takes him aback, but he's also getting used to her habit of taking things as an insult. He has to wonder what kind of history might've made her so despairing of others...
But there isn't really time to unpack that, given that her answer doesn't inspire him with much confidence. ]
I don't know, this is the same place that took away our body parts. Taking away a couple of pages from a recipe doesn't seem like too much of a stretch.
[ He sighs, briefly rubbing his temples before stepping back to see what they're working with. ]
First of all... Can you explain to me how things are actually baked? [ He looks at the giant box underneath the counter. ] Is that an oven?
[ The objective for this car—Unlock a good end—seems kind of stupid. Why would anyone want a bad end? What kind of masochist...?
Anyway, it becomes clear enough that unlocking a "good end" is meant to be some sort of bonding activity, rather than solving the murder, which has consumed all of the characters around them. There's a progress bar hovering over Claude's head as he looks over at Cal, and despite the fact that he does like him well enough there's... obvious room for improvement. ]
Maybe we could make a play at brotherly bonding?
[ Off to the side, Y*nagi-san starts to laugh, "Since when are you two related?" ]
[ Cal doesn't really know how to interpret this objective—he's just assuming it means he has to get a happy ending, somehow? Which could mean anything. But the progress bars over their heads are at least a start, even if this feels very... forced.
The comment from Y*nagi has him smiling wryly and cocking his head to the side. ]
I'm, uh. Adopted.
[ Which is actually technically true, if you look at it from the Order's point of view. So take that Y*nagi. The next part is directed at Claude. ]
[ Claude has to disguise his laugh behind a cough at that, giving Cal an amused look. ]
I hope so, because I really don't want to see what transitioning from siblings to lovers is going to look like.
[ That's a yikes. But nothing immediately shatters the world around them. Y*nagi just rolls his eyes before slapping a file to his chest. Apparently there's an incident for them to investigate, but when Claude opens the file the pages are... blank? There are some scrawls that look like they could be a fake language, and a picture of a cat, but there's nothing actually there.
And then, when he looks up, suddenly they're no longer in an office, but an amusement park. Not that Claude knows what that is. ]
[ What do all these crystals have to do with music? Is this a healing energy thing?
Claude doesn't understand #aesthetic, but he's learned quickly enough that his feelings don't matter in the grand scheme of this train. (Or do they?) He wanders through the car, peering at the crystals until he reaches the main character among them: the shiniest, the most prominent, the one that would be seated at the back of the classroom by the window.
This crystal obviously means something.
He wanders over to it, and between the hand prints and the objective listed on their phone, it's obvious enough what they're meant to do. Thankfully, he has a buddy here with him, and he gives Jinwoo a little grin. ]
[ Car objectives have mostly been a breeze for Jinwoo, but along comes the singing car and he's properly stumped. Him? Singing? He's such a bore that he doesn't even listen to music. There's no belting his heart out in the shower, no karaoke getaways with friends (because lbr he doesn't have friends back home), and no downloading songs from LimeWire only to discover Bill Clinton's voice on the other end.
He's going to fucking die in this car. ]
Terrible.
[ The least he can do is be honest about it. ]
Don't make me sing.
[ Especially not in front of the guy who was asking about his bathroom habits not too long ago. ]
[ He's not the enemy, Jinwoo. We're all in this together!
In any case, Claude doesn't even entertain the idea that he should be the one to step up. He enjoys music just fine; finds it a necessary element in a good party, and enjoys dancing for sure. But he's never tried singing, and he doesn't really want to start now. ]
Are you sure you aren't just being humble? No handsome voice to match a handsome face?
[ He also doesn't really think his negging is going to get Jinwoo to cave, but also... it might? If the man can crap in the company of his shadowy servants, then he can't be that easily embarrassed. ]
[ sometimes you hold hands and think many thinky thoughts for a while and it's a little depressing.
and then sometimes, you are just two guys, chilling in a hot spring! it's a little reminiscent of the sauna back home, but nicer, and less of a battle of endurance. but dimitri still only has his legs submerged in the water, sitting on some of the rocks as he checks his phone at the ding of a notification, as The Youths are wont to do. ]
It seems we have another one of those odd surveys to complete. This one is more... incomprehensible.
[ it seems like it's supposed to be spooky, but it's just silly... ]
[ Claude, on the other hand, has become ooze in the springs. He's peacefully submerged in the water, his arms crossed over the stones lining the edge of the pool and serving as a pillow for his head.
He looks like he could be sleeping, but he cracks an eye open at Dimitri's comment. Just for a moment before it slips closed again. ]
Yeah. I did it while we were changing. [ Should he have had his phone out while in the changing room? Probably not. ] You should take it and tell me what you get.
[ it's dangerous to fall asleep in the !!hot!! water, so he'd nudge him awake if that were the case anyway. dimitri pulls one of his feet out to rest against the cool stones as he pokes at his screen, which definitely sports at least a few hairline fractures by now. ]
What is the point? The results seem random anyway. What even is a dog dressed up as a bumblebee costume...?
[ it doesn't take him long to finish, though. he'll flip the screen and show claude his result: werewolf. he's not embarrassed because they don't have cheesy monster movies back home to compare to. ]
[ As a future wyvern rider, Claude finds that he has a particularly soft spot for dinosaurs the second that he lays eyes on them. Though he thinks they're dragons because Claude is a flat earther who's never heard of dinosaurs.
But whatever they are, they're much bigger and stronger than him, so even as he tries to vaguely corral a baby dinosaur away from the dangerous turf war that is going on all around them, there's not much that he can do to physically move a creature over ten times his own weight.
Not that moving is the problem with this specific baby, which I am going to call Sonic, because -
"Gotta go fast!" ]
I know! I know! Haven't you ever heard of a break?!
[ So there is Claude, holding desperately onto a baby triceratops while it ambles across the green field. It's uneven and gangly, but remarkably fast... ]
[Anakin has some experience with little green dinosaurs, so the moment they enter this car and he lays eyes on their new charges- he knows they're going to have their hands full. And wouldn't you know it, he's right. His current sidekick is probably a reflection of what he'd been like as a youngling- its long neck stretches into the branches of a tree and it pulls leaves off in great bites.
He's been at this for what, an hour?
The brush around them shudders with movement and Anakin knows it isn't danger because he can't feel a sense of it through the Force. -But also because his dinosaur charge is still just, chowing down. A triceratops goes thudding enthusiastically by- with a young man holding on for dear life. Anakin cups his mouth and calls out.] Steer with the horns! Steer with the horns!
[ Sylvain is used to being, err, active at night, but waking up past sundown is another matter. He blinks awake to evening stars and a rising moon, and a host of smells he hadn't noticed before. (Huh.)
There's no use trying to fall asleep again (his body won't allow it), so he gets to his feet and scrubs his face, studying his reflection in the mirror briefly as he runs a hand through his messy, sleep-tousled hair.
He's looking paler than usual, though he doesn't feel sick, other than perhaps a faint distaste for how strongly everything smells around him. He can hear noises from outside his (Happy Home) resort condo, everything from the quiet rumble of waves at the shoreline to the minute chitter of insects in the wild.
...He's seriously starved. No idea if the food stands are still open at this time at night, but the spa seems to be mysteriously stocked at all hours so he'll take a chance there, first.
Naturally, he's intercepted by another passenger along the way. (Claude, again. Though this time he's sporting a set of very realistic-looking ears, and a pair of very dangerous-looking claws...) ]
...
[ Sylvain gets the feeling something is very wrong here, the way the other boy is staring him down. (And also, uh, Sylvain's own instincts are definitely telling him to make Claude his meal. He can hear the strong pulse of his heartbeat, and it's making his mouth water. What the hell?!) ]
Cute costume. [ He says quickly, by way of greeting. He's gonna be on his way now...!! ]
[ It's not the first time that Claude has found himself a little fluffier than usual. Ever since completing that bizarre survey, he's been experiencing episodes like this: furry, animal ears where there were previously human ones, heightened smell, speed and claws as sharp as knives.
It was alarming and uncomfortable, but hadn't been particularly detrimental so far. The new sights and smells had been something to get used to, and he was a little more... physical than normal, but for the most part he was able to slink away and wait it out.
Tonight is different. He'd woken up suddenly, itchy and irritable, finding his mood soothed only by running across the shore like his life depended on it, chasing something that he couldn't quite grasp. (Belonging, territory—) And while the run settled the itch under his skin, it also made him feel... far away. Each step dulling the logic and reason that normally governed him. Silencing the human part of himself and letting something else fill the space.
And now, something is here. Something encroaching in his space, and when Sylvain approaches, he lets out a low growl to warn him off.
Sylvain says something in response. Claude doesn't quite catch it, but it irritates him (he's standing too tall, too presumptuous, no sign of submission) and when Sylvain tries to leave, Claude zeroes in on the movement like a shark to blood.
He doesn't think before moving. Doesn't formulate a plan of attack just goes on instinct, lunging to cross the distance between them, claws aimed to take a swipe at Sylvain's legs. Something in his head making sense of this, telling him that even if Claude doesn't finish him off, an injury like that will leave a beast as good as dead. ]
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sylvain. hand holding car.
Another car feels like another chance at progress, and Claude supposes that he's lucky that he's not afraid of the dark as he peers at the new objective on his phone. In fact, this seems deceptively easy... perhaps the cauldron will be difficult to find? It's not like they've been given a map.
The most dreadful part of all this is probably the fact that it's Sylvain immediately beside him. He briefly contemplates just ignoring him and setting to the task alone, but that's ultimately stupid when he doesn't know what lies ahead.
So forging past the awkwardness it is. ]
Hm. [ He casts the light on his phone out ahead of him, it barely illuminates more than a foot ahead, but it's enough to see the torch. ] Do you suppose it might be too much to ask for an easy job after the last car?
[ He picks it up, turning toward Sylvain so that he can take a look. ]
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...Reality eventually settles back in, though he finds it difficult to sleep at times, afraid he'll fall into another delusion. (His side is still scored with ugly, half-healed marks as an unwanted reminder of the impromptu adventure he'd just emerged from.)
So when he steps into the darkness of this new car, he feels instinctively on edge, and it has nothing to do with Claude who happens to be beside him. (Though of course, that's not ideal, either.) He almost starts when the other boy turns to him, blinking hard out of his reverie and remembering—
—ah. Right. Back at Madam Vermeer's... (How long ago was that even...?) His shoulders tense a little, but his voice stays even. ]
Definitely. No way they're gonna let us breeze through any of these cars.
[ Sylvain appraises the torch best he can in the low light and carefully reaches out towards the tip of it, eyes flicking briefly to Claude's. ] —Hold it steady for a sec. I'll see if I can light it.
[ He summons a bit of Fire magic, but not even a lick of it appears. Sylvain frowns and tries again, feeling the heat of the flame cascading against his fingertips, but not seeing the result of it. ] ...Guess I wasn't kidding. [ Nothing here can be easy. ]
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It seems like something is stealing the light. ]
Unfortunately not.
[ But by now, Claude is cluing in. Especially given the little bit of exposition offered up by the clownductor when they exited Minecraftia. It's not about power or ability, it's about character and growth, and he's sure that's the trick to lighting this torch.
What the exact method this car wants them to use... that'll take a minute of experimentation, he supposes. For now, he grips the torch and looks Sylvain in the eye. ]
I really appreciate you doing your best to light the torch.
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zuko. hand holding car.
Regardless, there's no fighting objectives, so as much as this is a drag, he plays along.
And it's strange, because even though he doesn't fear the dark, something about being swallowed up by the inky blackness around them is eating away at him.
He looks at Zuko, and then holds out a hand with a sigh. ]
Give me your hand.
spicy....
[ he's more or less been walking tensely next to claude in silence, because he sucks. but when claude speaks up, his head whips around, almost cartoonishly, to stare at him. or, rather, squint in his general direction ]
What? Why?
[ that's kneejerk, and just a tad flustered, but after a second, he scoffs. ]
Are you afraid?
:9
Hell, it's uncomfortable for Claude too.
(And besides, he's not scared, but there's something unnerving and uncomfortable winding up his spine. Something that leaves him unsettled, and thinking that, for some reason or the other, that working together with Zuko will make the situation better.) ]
No, but you saw that message right? Generally self-improvement involves some degree of cooperating with others.
[ He's still holding out his hand... You gonna just leave him hanging, bro? ]
dimitri. hand holding car.
They chat a little bit, it's mundane, falling into pockets of silence as they continue along.
Something pricks at the corners of Claude's senses, jolting tension up his spine and trying to force more urgency to his gait. He supposes that it's not impractical that there might be something in the darkness. A monster of some making.
His grip tightens on Dimitri's hand.
I wonder if he's recovered. ]
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But now, very far from home, he's found Claude a dependable companion, and now someone he owes quite a lot to. So he doesn't mind taking the lead into the dark, torch in hand as they march into the darkness.
Though it does make it clear that Claude's step is quickening a little, his grip a touch stiffer. The question would make him pause his steps, otherwise, as he mistakes it for something spoken aloud. ]
Do you mean me? I'm all right.
[ Still fatigued, I suppose... but he doesn't see a reason to go into detail. ]
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He glances over oddly when Dimitri speaks, surprised to hear him answer but... Maybe he spoke aloud? It's so easy to get lost in one thoughts while wondering this endless space, that he might not have noticed. ]
We can take a break if you're tired.
[ As long as I don't have to carry you again. ]
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toko. gbbo car.
Not to mention, he's never actually seen half of these contraptions before.
He squints at the recipe, which lists out the steps for a Frangipane Tart but none of the actual quantities of the ingredients on their work table.
He looks over at Toko helplessly. ]
Hopefully baking is a hobby of yours?
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Safe to say that she is staring at the recipe with a face as sour as the lemons in the fruit bowl aside.]
What? J-just because I'm a girl, I ought to be good in the kitchen? Am I f-failure if I'm not? [Toko's hands clench on empty air, already seething. She then bends below the station. Starts pulling out drawers.]
The rest of the recipe has to be s-somewhere. They can't do this to us. Th-they wouldn't ask something so impossible...
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But there isn't really time to unpack that, given that her answer doesn't inspire him with much confidence. ]
I don't know, this is the same place that took away our body parts. Taking away a couple of pages from a recipe doesn't seem like too much of a stretch.
[ He sighs, briefly rubbing his temples before stepping back to see what they're working with. ]
First of all... Can you explain to me how things are actually baked? [ He looks at the giant box underneath the counter. ] Is that an oven?
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cal. otome car.
Anyway, it becomes clear enough that unlocking a "good end" is meant to be some sort of bonding activity, rather than solving the murder, which has consumed all of the characters around them. There's a progress bar hovering over Claude's head as he looks over at Cal, and despite the fact that he does like him well enough there's... obvious room for improvement. ]
Maybe we could make a play at brotherly bonding?
[ Off to the side, Y*nagi-san starts to laugh, "Since when are you two related?" ]
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The comment from Y*nagi has him smiling wryly and cocking his head to the side. ]
I'm, uh. Adopted.
[ Which is actually technically true, if you look at it from the Order's point of view. So take that Y*nagi. The next part is directed at Claude. ]
Do you think that will help?
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I hope so, because I really don't want to see what transitioning from siblings to lovers is going to look like.
[ That's a yikes. But nothing immediately shatters the world around them. Y*nagi just rolls his eyes before slapping a file to his chest. Apparently there's an incident for them to investigate, but when Claude opens the file the pages are... blank? There are some scrawls that look like they could be a fake language, and a picture of a cat, but there's nothing actually there.
And then, when he looks up, suddenly they're no longer in an office, but an amusement park. Not that Claude knows what that is. ]
... A festival?
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jinwoo. crystal car.
Claude doesn't understand #aesthetic, but he's learned quickly enough that his feelings don't matter in the grand scheme of this train. (Or do they?) He wanders through the car, peering at the crystals until he reaches the main character among them: the shiniest, the most prominent, the one that would be seated at the back of the classroom by the window.
This crystal obviously means something.
He wanders over to it, and between the hand prints and the objective listed on their phone, it's obvious enough what they're meant to do. Thankfully, he has a buddy here with him, and he gives Jinwoo a little grin. ]
How are your vocals?
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He's going to fucking die in this car. ]
Terrible.
[ The least he can do is be honest about it. ]
Don't make me sing.
[ Especially not in front of the guy who was asking about his bathroom habits not too long ago. ]
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[ He's not the enemy, Jinwoo. We're all in this together!
In any case, Claude doesn't even entertain the idea that he should be the one to step up. He enjoys music just fine; finds it a necessary element in a good party, and enjoys dancing for sure. But he's never tried singing, and he doesn't really want to start now. ]
Are you sure you aren't just being humble? No handsome voice to match a handsome face?
[ He also doesn't really think his negging is going to get Jinwoo to cave, but also... it might? If the man can crap in the company of his shadowy servants, then he can't be that easily embarrassed. ]
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vacation car
and then sometimes, you are just two guys, chilling in a hot spring! it's a little reminiscent of the sauna back home, but nicer, and less of a battle of endurance. but dimitri still only has his legs submerged in the water, sitting on some of the rocks as he checks his phone at the ding of a notification, as The Youths are wont to do. ]
It seems we have another one of those odd surveys to complete. This one is more... incomprehensible.
[ it seems like it's supposed to be spooky, but it's just silly... ]
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He looks like he could be sleeping, but he cracks an eye open at Dimitri's comment. Just for a moment before it slips closed again. ]
Yeah. I did it while we were changing. [ Should he have had his phone out while in the changing room? Probably not. ] You should take it and tell me what you get.
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What is the point? The results seem random anyway. What even is a dog dressed up as a bumblebee costume...?
[ it doesn't take him long to finish, though. he'll flip the screen and show claude his result: werewolf. he's not embarrassed because they don't have cheesy monster movies back home to compare to. ]
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anakin. dinosaur car.
But whatever they are, they're much bigger and stronger than him, so even as he tries to vaguely corral a baby dinosaur away from the dangerous turf war that is going on all around them, there's not much that he can do to physically move a creature over ten times his own weight.
Not that moving is the problem with this specific baby, which I am going to call Sonic, because -
"Gotta go fast!" ]
I know! I know! Haven't you ever heard of a break?!
[ So there is Claude, holding desperately onto a baby triceratops while it ambles across the green field. It's uneven and gangly, but remarkably fast... ]
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He's been at this for what, an hour?
The brush around them shudders with movement and Anakin knows it isn't danger because he can't feel a sense of it through the Force. -But also because his dinosaur charge is still just, chowing down. A triceratops goes thudding enthusiastically by- with a young man holding on for dear life. Anakin cups his mouth and calls out.] Steer with the horns! Steer with the horns!
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trick or treat!!
There's no use trying to fall asleep again (his body won't allow it), so he gets to his feet and scrubs his face, studying his reflection in the mirror briefly as he runs a hand through his messy, sleep-tousled hair.
He's looking paler than usual, though he doesn't feel sick, other than perhaps a faint distaste for how strongly everything smells around him. He can hear noises from outside his (Happy Home) resort condo, everything from the quiet rumble of waves at the shoreline to the minute chitter of insects in the wild.
...He's seriously starved. No idea if the food stands are still open at this time at night, but the spa seems to be mysteriously stocked at all hours so he'll take a chance there, first.
Naturally, he's intercepted by another passenger along the way. (Claude, again. Though this time he's sporting a set of very realistic-looking ears, and a pair of very dangerous-looking claws...) ]
...
[ Sylvain gets the feeling something is very wrong here, the way the other boy is staring him down. (And also, uh, Sylvain's own instincts are definitely telling him to make Claude his meal. He can hear the strong pulse of his heartbeat, and it's making his mouth water. What the hell?!) ]
Cute costume. [ He says quickly, by way of greeting. He's gonna be on his way now...!! ]
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It was alarming and uncomfortable, but hadn't been particularly detrimental so far. The new sights and smells had been something to get used to, and he was a little more... physical than normal, but for the most part he was able to slink away and wait it out.
Tonight is different. He'd woken up suddenly, itchy and irritable, finding his mood soothed only by running across the shore like his life depended on it, chasing something that he couldn't quite grasp. (Belonging, territory—) And while the run settled the itch under his skin, it also made him feel... far away. Each step dulling the logic and reason that normally governed him. Silencing the human part of himself and letting something else fill the space.
And now, something is here. Something encroaching in his space, and when Sylvain approaches, he lets out a low growl to warn him off.
Sylvain says something in response. Claude doesn't quite catch it, but it irritates him (he's standing too tall, too presumptuous, no sign of submission) and when Sylvain tries to leave, Claude zeroes in on the movement like a shark to blood.
He doesn't think before moving. Doesn't formulate a plan of attack just goes on instinct, lunging to cross the distance between them, claws aimed to take a swipe at Sylvain's legs. Something in his head making sense of this, telling him that even if Claude doesn't finish him off, an injury like that will leave a beast as good as dead. ]
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