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To be expected, traversing the streets of the Megalopolis was easy work between themself and Zev Harcourt. The empty groans of Megalopolans faded to nothing—cut down by the pair and then receding to background noise as they climbed higher and higher up the tower.[break][break]
Until they were far above all the rest.[break][break]
The buzz of curious anticipation cut through their system, as electric as the lightning they commanded. Fern looked over at Tapu Koko and then to Zev. “No time like the present,” they crooned, smile stretching wide across their face. Of course, they didn’t truly know what to anticipate in this. So really there was no truly being ready for whatever might come.[break][break]
“You are certain it will come?” They asked, head tipping back as they peered at the expanse of darkness above. Tapu Koko, as it typically did when it had nothing to distract it within this realm, fidgeted.[break][break]
The guardian zipped from end to end at the top of the tower, though it never left Fern’s periphery. Was necrozma why it grew so restless? Was that why it wished to leave with them? Or was it eager to meet its supposed maker once again?
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A sort of veiled distance dropped over Zev’s expression. Fern almost made some remark about his tuning out of their conversation, and surely they were not that boring. But then inky dark crystallizations began to blossom along his neck and face, and Fern could only watch on with mild fascination.[break][break]
Then the void constellations written across his skin receded in a blink, and his eyes refocused. How strange.[break][break]
Their eyebrows climbed at the suggestion when it finally came. And then they smiled widely. “Necrozma itself? I’m in.”[break][break]
They looked back toward Tapu Koko, who had drifted closer at some point. Likely when Zev had tuned out to do his little…communing thing or whatever that was. It hovered close to Fern, head tilting so that the plumage atop its head swished. Eyes still wary, but its interest had been piqued.[break][break]
And oftentimes, that was all that was needed.[break][break]
“Pigeon here’s in too. Right, Pidge?” Fern’s head lolled to the side toward Tapu Koko. It reached one bulky pincer out toward the desk. The point driving against the surface. Tap Tap. As much of a ‘yes’ as they were going to get.

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An interesting point, to be sure. Though– “What purpose, then, do you suppose Necrozma sought in making an autonomous deity pokemon?” What sort of ulterior motives did it seek with a creature like Tapu Koko? Their fingers tapped together, steepling as they tripped toward existentialism.[break][break]
Fern hummed, head drooping side to side. “I suppose I’m not terribly certain, in all honesty. Efforts to see if it might recognize aspects of Necrozma. If it is aware and acknowledging of that connection from creator to creation, if that makes sense.”[break][break]
Or was it in the dark– drifting in search of its kin because that was the only true bond it knew beyond the one they shared with Fern?[break][break]
“But if there is some way to recognize that tie from Necrozma to a Tapu, who’s to say it can’t be utilized to see if there are others like this one? The Bulu, or others.”

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Fern shrugs, “I suppose that’s a fair point, though you seem to be under the impression this a coordinated endeavor.” An ambush? More like…dealing with an interference, they would call it.[break][break]

A high cackle of laughter slides up their throat as kyle lopez negates the worst of their paralysis. But rather than react with the killer coldness and merciless airs of his fellow Rocket brass, Fern delights in the fight. There is only a feral sort of glee to revel in. They do not rage and rampage. This is a game, and they will sever themself from it when they feel done. Their purpose wasn’t necessarily to antagonize for the thrill of it when they set out that morning, but it is the gear they shift to all the same.[break][break]

Above them, the true intent of their visit writes itself across the sky, as the two Tapu Koko’s exchange thunder pulses and stray crackles of lightning—engaged in a dance to see if they truly will mirror one another. Shiny Tapu Koko flits around its brighter counterpart, as curious as it is goading. This is not the same experience it shared with Tapu Fini. It is chaotic and temperamental, fitful with the unpredictability of electrical sparks.[break][break]

Its shield snaps together as it attempts to drive itself toward Hoenn’s Tapu Koko in a bid to lock with it and pull them both down to earth. A show of superiority.[break][break]

Down below, Fern wheezes as this body is hefted upward and slammed down to the ground again. Their mouth still split in that grin as the air drives from their lungs. “Of course, shouldn’t expect anything less from you, of all people.” They roll up to a crouch as a rolling gout of flame peels toward them, and they expression turns snarling for a flickering moment, eyes flashing. “Wrong target, I suppose,” they say cheerfully before their figure blurs with speed as they launch away on that fast-traveling current again. Away from the FLAME CHARGE so that they can clamp a paralytic hand on CIAN MAHER instead.[break][break]

But they are, perhaps, too winded to be quite as effective as before. Because no matter their antics, a trained fighter, Fern is not.
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The last thing they remember are crimson eyes and being swallowed by the impenetrable dark.[break][break]

A cruel smile and the sink of cold dread as it crept through their veins.[break][break]

The agony and the ache of being turned away. An endless string of arguments and the yawn of distance that cracked them in two just a little bit more the larger it grew. And endless stretch of time finding themself unable to stop what was only going to be inevitable.[break][break]

When they jolt awake, their eyes snap open in panic. Their chest heaves, breath loud and audible as a cold sweat prickles up their spine, bleeding through the shirt they’d worn to bed. One of Jayden’s old shirts, and suddenly that familiar, warm scent is all around them. Smothering them filling up their lungs. In the next inhale, they realize the sound is wet with the clog of a sob working its way free.[break][break]

All they can feel is the ache as their hands claw at the quilts piled on top of them. Tearing at them and trying to pull themself free from the nightmare that they feel as if they are still entrenched in.[break][break]

As if at any moment, those burning eyes will find them and Jayden will turn cold again, and they will be alone in a world that does not want them. Has no place for them. That leaves them alone and aching and so, so unbearably angry at what they have been robbed off.[break][break]

They are so paralyzed by the realness of the dream that Fern cannot move, cannot manage to even turn their head toward the weighted presence of the sleeping body next to them. Just to make sure he is really, actually there.

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jayden cross[break]
january, after father winter 2’s visit

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Naturally, Jayden misses the point, even though they’ve not bothered to make that point yet..[break][break]
It is so painfully like him to drift to something else entirely. And this doubles Fern over. Makes them laugh harder in their exasperation and frustration.[break][break]
“No.” They manage it after the exhausted, delirium-laced giggles subside. “It is not too sweet.”[break][break]
Something slices through them when they look up at him, note the confusion in his stare that is almost achingly familiar. Intimate and memorized in their mind like a still frame from those first days when they had been strangers and Fern felt like a younger version of themself.[break][break]
In fact they feel entirely separate from the person who stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the supermarket, mulling over the preferred color of grapes. Different from the person who dared to get too close to him in the confined space of his laundry room. The bruising clamp of a panicked hand around their wrist and apologetic, violet eyes.[break][break]
But his eyes burn frosty blue now.[break][break]
And Fern suddenly realizes what the Wellspring Mask had itched to reveal to them. Their deepest desires were not a reflection of the Ballonlea they left behind in another reality, but rather a return to the them they’d been before.[break][break]
He is as severed from those memories as Fern is.[break][break]
The flight from a makeshift holding room and a disgruntled mall cop.[break][break]
Talk of crystablooms as he salvages their poor baking skills, and that first kiss shared— snickerdoodle-sweet and exciting and new.[break][break]
They are light years away from that feeling—light years away from their jealousy and longing at the masquerade, when all they craved was his attention on them and only them. What they have now feels like a false imitation of it, all twisted up by guilt and the desire to make up for the way he turned away from them in a dream.[break][break]
All of that adoration and contrition cannot remove how they felt in the face of rejection in favor of a father’s love and approval they always knew to be false.[break][break]
Fern glimpsed the real thing in the prison.[break][break]
The return of something true and real before the city dreaming began again. Curled on the cot, even with BARNABY FINCH piled in with them. Fern felt it before the cold front swept in again, and all of Chien Pao’s hatred pulled him away again. Their calming presence only reaches so far, only lasts for so long.[break][break]
They soothe him, but he haunts them.[break][break]
The ghost of himself that he's become. Pale haired and spectral, forming cold spots that linger in the halls of their home.[break][break]
“You know, I don’t know how this has become our life now.” Their voice steeped like a bitter tea they’d sooner spit out than swallow. And the more they talk, the more worked up they grow—their words thickening into a tangle of heavy Galarian they can’t manage to smooth out into a posh lilt.[break][break]
“It’s all so commonplace, it’s laughable. All of this ridiculous, cataclysmic rubbish is bloody normal by now. I take my morning tea with a side of cosmic disaster and ridicule.” Their resilience in the face of fezandipiti’s mockery finally cracks in the shelter of their living room. “And still I cannot get your laughter out of my head.”[break][break]
But it’s more than just that. It is everything else too. Everything, everything and then some. “I am a joke to you.”

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jayden cross[break]
m: post-prismatic penitentiary

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Their relief as jayden cross's constant affection recedes for the time being isn't a palpable thing, or an audible sigh of relief. But it is present all the same. Something tense in their chest sags when, just for a moment, they are not subjected to the overly-saccharine sweet attention.[break][break]

Attention they feel comes as a direct result of the guilt Jayden feels for what happened with Father Winter 2. And this is something they have little interest in humoring.[break][break]

They sit forward in their seat, fingers linking together as they lean against the table. "I agree that preparation should take precedence. I can work on drawing up a roster for those that need additional masking of identification and formal ID doctoring." They peer at the thick envelope that Jayden produced. "If there are any names that seem crucial to disguise, it would be prudent to send them my way as soon as possible."[break][break]

The question raised in their direction causes Fern to look over at BARNABY FINCH, eyes brightening as they open their mouth to answer. Not a word follows, though, before Jayden jumps back in - causing their stare to jump back to him sharply. This grates something else entirely, a nettled under their skin at being spoken over when they had been directly addressed.[break][break]

Fern clears their throat primly, "I'm inclined to agree with you, Bee. Not utilizing an asset that easily accessible to us, even if prohibited within Sootopolis itself, seems foolish. If we do not tap into dynergy and familiarize ourselves with it will only set us back when, as Bee said, the League inevitably seizes the opportunity themselves."[break][break]

They shrug as howard slayte speaks of building houses and cracking skulls, indifferent. "The effective answer isn't always the constructive answer." Though that is perhaps The Charlatan and their joy in destruction more than Fern themself speaking.[break][break]

The mention of Father Winter causes them to drift into silence, however, and their expression sobers up from its easy nonchalance. A topic they are not particularly fond of acknowledging as it continues to remain sour on their tongue.

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All at once the crystallization was gone, Zev’s hand returning to normal as if it had never changed at all. How fascinating. “Never so forthcoming, these creatures.” It was no more than a grumbling complaint, from someone who would’ve preferred to have the answer handed directly to them.[break][break]
But here they were—forced to put the puzzle pieces together themselves.[break][break]
A brow rose as their mind strung a line between two points to link them together. “Interesting.” Their fingers laced together, and with their elbows resting on the desk, they let their chin droop into the cradle they made. Furtively, they watched Tapu Koko again.[break][break]
“That could make sense, but though Tapu Koko is mercurial and prone to temperamental outbursts, it doesn’t bear any markers of being shadowed, either.” Their smile turned wan. “Apart from the darker color palette, of course.”[break][break]
They mulled over the idea, silence falling for a moment. It wasn’t often that Fern avoided the need for chatter to fill a quiet lull, but if anything, it was a testament to their taking this seriously. “If this is similar, do you think there might be a reliable means of testing a connection? From creator to creation?”[break][break]
A pause. “It did have a terribly strong response to the shard I procured at Mt. Pyre, the one that opened up the rift to Lesser Mega.” Though whether or not it was for some reason beyond it being shiny and appealing, they weren’t too sure.

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