You hop through the ring portals, barely escaping Eggman's forces and making it through (mostly) unscathed. On the plus side, you're all here - in fact, you'll find Tails and Vakama nearby, with the fox having brought your pal here too.
But unfortunately, "here" is not exactly the best place to be.
"Back here again...? Sheesh, I really can't catch a break.
"What is this place, Sonic?"
"This is the space between worlds. The void, I guess you could call it."
Everywhere you look there's a whole lot of nothing. Gemstone-like shards litter this reality in all sorts of shapes and sizes, serving as obstacles or platforms; they're sturdy enough to walk and stand on, but this world's rules are a little different from what you're used to. For one, gravity doesn't really work properly - you may find yourself floating or walking upside-down on a shard you didn't mean to end up on, and it's going to take some getting used to.
There's not really much to do or see here either - at least, not for now. You're welcome to explore this strange place, but you won't find anything particularly interesting... with one notable exception as seen in the comment below.
No matter where you go, no matter what you do, you'll feel like you're being watched.
[Today has really left Oscar feeling like a certain someone has been looking out for him. The number of hits that he'd taken that should by all rights have been fatal... he has the devil's own luck, that's for sure, but isn't that what he's always said about himself?
He isn't sure whether it's a blessing or a curse, though he doesn't have the time to think on it. Not right now. Right now what's important is making sure that Mafuyu is going to be all right for the time being and that Lark is also similarly in decent shape. It's easy to shrug off the pain when he's focusing on something else, blink away the darkness that threatens to close in on the edges of his vision. But for all that it's a wonderful and useful thing in the moment, adrenaline can only hold out for so long, and this time there's no warning as the darkness suddenly crashes over him like a tide; he wobbles for a moment, then drops like a puppet whose strings have been cut.
Well. At least it wasn't in the middle of the fight itself?
Later on, once he's conscious and at least somewhat patched up, he can be found sitting (or more specifically reclining, as sitting up all the way takes energy that he doesn't have at the moment) on one of the shards, a cigarette in one hand as he just takes slow drags on it. He's surprisingly somber compared to his usual demeanor, but maybe that's simply the result of being exhausted.
Either way, he won't say no to company if you'd like to join him.]
[ GRABS OSCAR BY THE THROAT WITH HIS GOOD HAND AND THROWS HIM OFF OF THE CLIFF FOR THE AMOUNT OF HEALER STRESS—
except that's not what wolfwood does at all but instead will casually wander next to oscar and take a sit next to him to join him with smoking. not too many of them here who do that and wolfwood makes sure to never do it around the others out of politeness. he won't say anything but buddy wolfwood's not blind. it just feels wrong to call a guy out on something that you're barely better at yourself. he can only play the pot to the kettle so many times. ]
[LOOK. HE'S MORE DURABLE THAN MOST OF THE PEOPLE HERE, IT'S BETTER HE TANK THE HITS THAN THEM? Tell him he's wrong to his face--
Oscar's well aware that smoking isn't good for him. He also doesn't particularly care, but like Wolfwood, he's noticed that not many of the others do it and has also tried to be considerate about it. Out here in the void, though... and ESPECIALLY after today...
He inhales, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he considers what to say.]
... sorry for makin' things so tough for you back there.
[He means in the battle, because he knows damn well just how much damage he took and he also knows that he probably wouldn't even still be alive without the man's healing.]
but yeah. yeah. after everything there's only so much that could be said and it's nice to have someone to share a smoke with. now, if only they had drinks to go along with it. tragic. ]
It's fine; it's not like ya intentionally went out of yer way to deliberately get as hurt as ya did.
[ because, sure, even if he's going to play the tank role it doesn't mean that he is going to want to play that role and aim to become human paste on the floor. how is that going to help anyone in the long run?? and if wolfwood has a good enough read on oscar so far—as much as he'll be willing to throw himself at an enemy, he's not actively trying to end things. ]
...unless ya did. Then I want more than just a simple apology.
[ he means it in jest, of course. unless.......... ]
cw: slight suicidal ideation how many times is today going to make me break this one out?
No, I was just tryin' to make sure the others didn't get hurt instead.
[It's not a lie. He does want to protect them all, because that's the one thing he's good at and he knows it well. It's the one thing that even someone like him - a no one with nothing to his name and no lineage - can do; if it was fate that granted him his size and strength, then he would be a fool not to put it to full use.
But at the same time... there's a part of him that's just waiting for his number to be up, and the thought doesn't distress him. As he'd said to Basilio, he's already lived more than long enough, survived things he really shouldn't have. (Things that should have killed him too, not just--)
It's just that right now, he's more useful to everyone alive, that's all.]
They're not as tough as I am. Anything that hit them would do a lot more damage than it would me. 'Sides, I'm a soldier-- I'm used to it.
cw: closes my eyes.... let's keep that for the entire thread
[ woflwood doesn't immediately say anything in response to that and simply takes in a long drag and his time exhaling after. he understands where oscar is going with what he's saying—to a point. wolfwood was never a solider (unless someone wanted to stretch the definition by a whole lot) but he's familiar with the feeling of knowing just how much you can take.
...and maybe even wanting to take it just a bit more than that. ]
I could say the same for me—before I got here. After I was brought here to help, I found myself a little bit humbled.
[ he'll casually raise up his (still) injured shoulder and broken arm in its sling for oscar to see. how the bandages and wrappings survived the battle that they just had, who fucking knows but it has. in theory, he's probably no worse off than anyone else but there is that stipulation that he has that no one else does. ]
My noodle cat guy and yerself—ya realize that if either of ya go down for good, it's bad news for the rest of us. 'nd not just because it leaves us more open but it's not exactly great for moral.
[ he hopes that he doesn't have to go into more detail than that. it should be obvious, right? forget the people back where they're from—the people here who would be besides themselves. upset. wolfwood takes another drag before he continues. ]
Half the reason why people were so desperate was because they wanted to get the mask back.
[Oscar looks at that sling, and the bullet hole in his own shoulder and the wound in his side where Mafuyu's ice struck home ache in sympathy. He's always pushed himself to his limits and beyond them, and it was that trait in particular that had drawn Claude to him like a moth to a flame.
He wonders, sometimes, how his life would have turned out had that never happened.]
It's always bad for morale to have people dyin' in battle. Doesn't matter if it's the commander or just a foot soldier... no one likes to feel that a victory was paid for in blood.
[It's almost disconcerting just how much the others here care, really. Back at home... Claude and Eric do, of course, and Tis has gotten quite attached (he worries sometimes, when angels aren't supposed to form attachments), and surely Sister and Mere and the barkeep and perhaps even Espada would be distressed, but... there's a reason he doesn't let people get close, why he tries to keep his relationships superficial.
So they won't be upset when he dies.]
Not surprised they were so desperate, though. Vakama's a good guy-- everyone likes him. You wanna talk about something that'd make morale take a hit, it'd be that.
[His tone is oddly light for the words. It's just natural, a matter of course-- Vakama is a good person, and so everyone cares about him.]
[ a victory paid in blood... yeah, wolfwood could make a comment about those sort of victories, if only because "victory" is no longer the word he would use for them. the voice of someone telling him that there is always a way to end conflict without having to kill anyone ever present in his mind. urging him to look for another way—that what wolfwood had been so used to before was the "cowards" way of handling things.
fortunately, he's spared having to dwell on that longer than he needs to (again) as oscar says something that wolfwood can't help but casually "protest" with a humorless chuckle. yeah, it would make sense for people to say that, wouldn't it? given everything... but there are a few assumptions that wolfwood would like to prevent people making about him. ]
Might wanna check that "everyone". [ wolfwood also keeps his tone light and makes sure not to take too long to continue as to not give oscar any wrong ideas. ] ...but I don't dislike him enough to think that he should be dead.
[ but does he think anyone here fondly enough to say the alternative? whose to say. what is important though— ]
I don't dislike anyone enough here to think that way, but even if someone bugs ya—not havin' them around makes things weird. Ya start to remember about the things that irritated ya whether it was their habits or somethin' else.
[In his mind, Oscar hears the familiar squabbles. The "Hey, that's mine!" and the "You can't just put on someone else's clothes! as they'd jostled each other in front of the cramped closet, and he thinks of how he'd give anything to have those same stupid fights again. A part of him wonders if that's why he needles Claude sometimes to get a similar sort of response out of him... if he's just looking to replace what he'd lost that day.
For all that he'd told Tis he liked finally having a room all to himself, sometimes it feels far too big, far too empty.]
We'd all end up missin' those discs flyin' at our heads out of nowhere, in other words. [Now it's his turn to laugh.] No thanks-- I think I'll pass on wantin' to remember that, so he'd better make sure to stay alive.
["There are a great many people who would miss you if you were gone. And I'm one of them, of course." He wonders if that's what Sister had meant by that. Would she miss having to scold him about his drinking? ... yeah, she probably would, wouldn't she.]
And we'd definitely all be hurtin' for his skills and knowledge, that much is for sure.
[ wolfwood might not be able to know what's going through oscar's mind right now but he can see that whatever he's thinking about (or remembering) is the kind of thing that he had hoped for. people like him need that reminder—as obvious it is for people like wolfwood. ]
Now ya got it! There's somethin' that we'd all be missin' if any one of us suddenly wasn't around anymore. It's more about how soon we'd be feelin' that loss.
[ as if wolfwood is blind to the knowledge of how his loss wouldn't be immediately felt the moment that someone takes a misstep and they fall into misfortune. an injury that hadn't been calculated or planned for. an injury that would take much too long to recover from... ]
Of course, I'll make sure that I don't get any more roughed up than I am now. [ especially since there isn't really anyone else who can put him back together should things get even worse than they are. however, wolfwood treats his injuries with a levity, as he bumps into oscar lightly with his shoulder, that's unearned but there's a limit of how much attention he wants to bring to himself.
whatever and everything he endures is fine as long as people like oscar—those of them who have proper offensive abilities—remain to keep things moving along. he'll gladly and willingly pay the necessary price to make sure that happens. ] Can't be much good to any of ya if I've got both feet in the grave.
[He takes that shoulder bump with a grin and a slight wince that he tries to hide. Ah, he's going to be feeling this for quite a while... it worries him, if they wind up in another battle as fierce as this one. But he'll cross that bridge when they come to it.]
If you end up with both feet in the grave, then I'd be six feet under.
[There's a certain dark humor in it given the topic, but also no small grain of truth. Oscar knows well that were it not for the efforts of Wolfwood and the others who shielded and healed him, he really would have ended up in the ground. The lingering pain from his injuries is more than enough to remind him of that much.]
Then poor Bas'd have to do all the work by himself, and he'd probably come hunt me down even in the afterlife.
[Is it an exaggeration? Maybe, but he also truly does believe that the other man would come for his soul.]
And then everyone else'd be short you, me, AND Bas, and I don't even wanna think about what sort of shape they'd be in like that.
[... that's kind of a frightening thought, to realize just how dependent the others really are on the three of them where combat is concerned.]
[ hmmm... wolfwood will notice the wince but won't say anything about it (for now) and just chuckle at what oscar response. he's in good company when it comes to dark humor as wolfwood is no stranger to it; if anything, it's probably one of the kinds of humor he's most familiar with. ]
If yerself, our cat pal, and myself end up being six feet under and chasin' one another in the afterlife then I suspect we won't be alone for very long.
[ because let's not kid ourselves here. wolfwood is aware just how people have been going about things—good and bad. ]
The little clown man might be able handle the healing by himself as long as things don't get out control, but he can't take a hit like I can. Feels like if you pushed him too hard he'd fall over like a bundle of sticks.
[ and because it works well with the timing of things, wolfwood will place his good hand on oscar's shoulder and give him another round of healing (against his will). there's no way that he's going to get away from this conversation without wolfwood doing that. of course, he'll do it with being a little cheeky: ]
O Lord protect us from injury and not allow evil to win.
[Okay, Oscar has to laugh at that simply because he knows it's the truth. This entire group sure is... something, all right, and while he's not entirely sure what to make of them, he also can't say that he hasn't come to care for them all in his own way. If he can make sure that none of them get hurt by being the one to get hurt instead, then that's what he's going to do.]
Yeah, there's a reason Bas and I have been tryin' to be the ones takin' the majority of the hits here. You can't tell me "fall over like a bundle of sticks" wouldn't apply to a bunch of this little squad...
[Some of them look like they'd keel over if they took two good hits, not that he's going to say this out loud. He knows he doesn't really need to.
He's gearing up to say something else when Wolfwood places his hand on Oscar's shoulder and he feels the warmth of that healing pulse through him, the pain ebbing away slightly like a tide.
He could protest. He should protest. But in the face of this whole conversation, somehow he finds he can't bring himself to do it.
Sister would be proud of him, honestly.]
Now you're just startin' to sound like someone I know.
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no subject
He isn't sure whether it's a blessing or a curse, though he doesn't have the time to think on it. Not right now. Right now what's important is making sure that Mafuyu is going to be all right for the time being and that Lark is also similarly in decent shape. It's easy to shrug off the pain when he's focusing on something else, blink away the darkness that threatens to close in on the edges of his vision. But for all that it's a wonderful and useful thing in the moment, adrenaline can only hold out for so long, and this time there's no warning as the darkness suddenly crashes over him like a tide; he wobbles for a moment, then drops like a puppet whose strings have been cut.
Well. At least it wasn't in the middle of the fight itself?
Later on, once he's conscious and at least somewhat patched up, he can be found sitting (or more specifically reclining, as sitting up all the way takes energy that he doesn't have at the moment) on one of the shards, a cigarette in one hand as he just takes slow drags on it. He's surprisingly somber compared to his usual demeanor, but maybe that's simply the result of being exhausted.
Either way, he won't say no to company if you'd like to join him.]
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except that's not what wolfwood does at all but instead will casually wander next to oscar and take a sit next to him to join him with smoking. not too many of them here who do that and wolfwood makes sure to never do it around the others out of politeness. he won't say anything but buddy wolfwood's not blind. it just feels wrong to call a guy out on something that you're barely better at yourself. he can only play the pot to the kettle so many times. ]
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Oscar's well aware that smoking isn't good for him. He also doesn't particularly care, but like Wolfwood, he's noticed that not many of the others do it and has also tried to be considerate about it. Out here in the void, though... and ESPECIALLY after today...
He inhales, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he considers what to say.]
... sorry for makin' things so tough for you back there.
[He means in the battle, because he knows damn well just how much damage he took and he also knows that he probably wouldn't even still be alive without the man's healing.]
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but yeah. yeah. after everything there's only so much that could be said and it's nice to have someone to share a smoke with. now, if only they had drinks to go along with it. tragic. ]
It's fine; it's not like ya intentionally went out of yer way to deliberately get as hurt as ya did.
[ because, sure, even if he's going to play the tank role it doesn't mean that he is going to want to play that role and aim to become human paste on the floor. how is that going to help anyone in the long run?? and if wolfwood has a good enough read on oscar so far—as much as he'll be willing to throw himself at an enemy, he's not actively trying to end things. ]
...unless ya did. Then I want more than just a simple apology.
[ he means it in jest, of course. unless.......... ]
cw: slight suicidal ideation how many times is today going to make me break this one out?
[It's not a lie. He does want to protect them all, because that's the one thing he's good at and he knows it well. It's the one thing that even someone like him - a no one with nothing to his name and no lineage - can do; if it was fate that granted him his size and strength, then he would be a fool not to put it to full use.
But at the same time... there's a part of him that's just waiting for his number to be up, and the thought doesn't distress him. As he'd said to Basilio, he's already lived more than long enough, survived things he really shouldn't have. (Things that should have killed him too, not just--)
It's just that right now, he's more useful to everyone alive, that's all.]
They're not as tough as I am. Anything that hit them would do a lot more damage than it would me. 'Sides, I'm a soldier-- I'm used to it.
cw: closes my eyes.... let's keep that for the entire thread
...and maybe even wanting to take it just a bit more than that. ]
I could say the same for me—before I got here. After I was brought here to help, I found myself a little bit humbled.
[ he'll casually raise up his (still) injured shoulder and broken arm in its sling for oscar to see. how the bandages and wrappings survived the battle that they just had, who fucking knows but it has. in theory, he's probably no worse off than anyone else but there is that stipulation that he has that no one else does. ]
My noodle cat guy and yerself—ya realize that if either of ya go down for good, it's bad news for the rest of us. 'nd not just because it leaves us more open but it's not exactly great for moral.
[ he hopes that he doesn't have to go into more detail than that. it should be obvious, right? forget the people back where they're from—the people here who would be besides themselves. upset. wolfwood takes another drag before he continues. ]
Half the reason why people were so desperate was because they wanted to get the mask back.
they're doing so great, you guys
He wonders, sometimes, how his life would have turned out had that never happened.]
It's always bad for morale to have people dyin' in battle. Doesn't matter if it's the commander or just a foot soldier... no one likes to feel that a victory was paid for in blood.
[It's almost disconcerting just how much the others here care, really. Back at home... Claude and Eric do, of course, and Tis has gotten quite attached (he worries sometimes, when angels aren't supposed to form attachments), and surely Sister and Mere and the barkeep and perhaps even Espada would be distressed, but... there's a reason he doesn't let people get close, why he tries to keep his relationships superficial.
So they won't be upset when he dies.]
Not surprised they were so desperate, though. Vakama's a good guy-- everyone likes him. You wanna talk about something that'd make morale take a hit, it'd be that.
[His tone is oddly light for the words. It's just natural, a matter of course-- Vakama is a good person, and so everyone cares about him.]
yea! exactly
fortunately, he's spared having to dwell on that longer than he needs to (again) as oscar says something that wolfwood can't help but casually "protest" with a humorless chuckle. yeah, it would make sense for people to say that, wouldn't it? given everything... but there are a few assumptions that wolfwood would like to prevent people making about him. ]
Might wanna check that "everyone". [ wolfwood also keeps his tone light and makes sure not to take too long to continue as to not give oscar any wrong ideas. ] ...but I don't dislike him enough to think that he should be dead.
[ but does he think anyone here fondly enough to say the alternative? whose to say. what is important though— ]
I don't dislike anyone enough here to think that way, but even if someone bugs ya—not havin' them around makes things weird. Ya start to remember about the things that irritated ya whether it was their habits or somethin' else.
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For all that he'd told Tis he liked finally having a room all to himself, sometimes it feels far too big, far too empty.]
We'd all end up missin' those discs flyin' at our heads out of nowhere, in other words. [Now it's his turn to laugh.] No thanks-- I think I'll pass on wantin' to remember that, so he'd better make sure to stay alive.
["There are a great many people who would miss you if you were gone. And I'm one of them, of course." He wonders if that's what Sister had meant by that. Would she miss having to scold him about his drinking? ... yeah, she probably would, wouldn't she.]
And we'd definitely all be hurtin' for his skills and knowledge, that much is for sure.
no subject
Now ya got it! There's somethin' that we'd all be missin' if any one of us suddenly wasn't around anymore. It's more about how soon we'd be feelin' that loss.
[ as if wolfwood is blind to the knowledge of how his loss wouldn't be immediately felt the moment that someone takes a misstep and they fall into misfortune. an injury that hadn't been calculated or planned for. an injury that would take much too long to recover from... ]
Of course, I'll make sure that I don't get any more roughed up than I am now. [ especially since there isn't really anyone else who can put him back together should things get even worse than they are. however, wolfwood treats his injuries with a levity, as he bumps into oscar lightly with his shoulder, that's unearned but there's a limit of how much attention he wants to bring to himself.
whatever and everything he endures is fine as long as people like oscar—those of them who have proper offensive abilities—remain to keep things moving along. he'll gladly and willingly pay the necessary price to make sure that happens. ] Can't be much good to any of ya if I've got both feet in the grave.
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If you end up with both feet in the grave, then I'd be six feet under.
[There's a certain dark humor in it given the topic, but also no small grain of truth. Oscar knows well that were it not for the efforts of Wolfwood and the others who shielded and healed him, he really would have ended up in the ground. The lingering pain from his injuries is more than enough to remind him of that much.]
Then poor Bas'd have to do all the work by himself, and he'd probably come hunt me down even in the afterlife.
[Is it an exaggeration? Maybe, but he also truly does believe that the other man would come for his soul.]
And then everyone else'd be short you, me, AND Bas, and I don't even wanna think about what sort of shape they'd be in like that.
[... that's kind of a frightening thought, to realize just how dependent the others really are on the three of them where combat is concerned.]
no subject
If yerself, our cat pal, and myself end up being six feet under and chasin' one another in the afterlife then I suspect we won't be alone for very long.
[ because let's not kid ourselves here. wolfwood is aware just how people have been going about things—good and bad. ]
The little clown man might be able handle the healing by himself as long as things don't get out control, but he can't take a hit like I can. Feels like if you pushed him too hard he'd fall over like a bundle of sticks.
[ and because it works well with the timing of things, wolfwood will place his good hand on oscar's shoulder and give him another round of healing (against his will). there's no way that he's going to get away from this conversation without wolfwood doing that. of course, he'll do it with being a little cheeky: ]
O Lord protect us from injury and not allow evil to win.
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Yeah, there's a reason Bas and I have been tryin' to be the ones takin' the majority of the hits here. You can't tell me "fall over like a bundle of sticks" wouldn't apply to a bunch of this little squad...
[Some of them look like they'd keel over if they took two good hits, not that he's going to say this out loud. He knows he doesn't really need to.
He's gearing up to say something else when Wolfwood places his hand on Oscar's shoulder and he feels the warmth of that healing pulse through him, the pain ebbing away slightly like a tide.
He could protest. He should protest. But in the face of this whole conversation, somehow he finds he can't bring himself to do it.
Sister would be proud of him, honestly.]
Now you're just startin' to sound like someone I know.
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But this is much later, once Oscar is a little more patched up and Lark was wondering where he went off to. ]
...Can I sit next to you?