no TW, I think?? Pure Vanilla has a conversation, cleans his room, and angsts.
In case y'all haven't noticed, I really like PV. His whole personality is so very huggable. I want to squish him like Hollyberry did (cuteness aggression lel). I didn't make the Dark Enchantress huge to vicariously live through the eeee of holding a smol person in my palms, totally not.
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"I can't believe I got saddled with the new guy." Licorice complained. "Really! Everyone showed up at this meeting, but somehow I'm still the one doing the dirty work." He had been the one who ended up showing Pure Vanilla around his former castle, likely pushed by one of the other cookies. The cookie of darkness dragged him around the halls, not recognizing the healer's apparent ability to navigate the winding corridors.
Pure Vanilla's staff gave his "guide" a look. He was right here. "Well, you are the one who recruited me. They probably believe you know best when it comes to my talents."
He felt a sense of amusement as the reaper puffed up like a peacock. It was so easy to make him happy. He probably didn't get complimented much. Pure Vanilla noticed that none of the other cookies seemed to have much respect for Licorice.
"Well, of course. I found you, after all."
He was actually the one who found the reaper. He had been trying to flee all reminders of his previous life, and had come across Licorice bragging about the Dark Enchantress's new brilliant schemes to his small mushroom companion. After following them for a while, Licorice was ganged up on by a group of enraged jelly bears. While usually very passive creatures, they have the capability to be cruel when threatened. And the cookie had spoken very loudly to the candy worms around the area about his plans for the bear village, causing enough of a ruckus that a bear had overheard him.
The rest was history.
"This is the central hall! Ignore the broken statues, no one has bothered to clean them up so there are some sharp pieces lying around." He kicked the broken head of a statue lying on the side of the hall. Pure Vanilla winced as his likeness crumbled into a few more pieces.
"So," he ventured. "What is it like serving the Dark Enchantress?"
"Wonderful!" came the too-bright reply. "Our Mistress is the most powerful sorceress in the world. She brings us plenty of books and allows us to work on achieving her grand vision of Earthbread."
There's no way he truly feels that way. His answer was too automated to be genuine. "Is that all?"
"Yes. You'll be able to see her greatness in time. We are the chosen! We deserve to be revered as her mistress's right-hands."
The reaper's usage of 'we' flowed smoothly into the conversation. It was more unconscious than a deliberate attempt at manipulation, and the blonde felt almost endeared at how quickly he included him in his daydreams of grandeur. The topic of conversation, though, quickly dimmed any smidge of positive emotion he experienced.
Licorice did not dare speak negatively of White Lily. He supposed he shouldn't do so either- she was technically his superior and surely would not overlook insubordination. Even so, the situation grated on his heart. They were once friends. The distance created by Pure Vanilla's lack of power drove him farther away from her, and every unfamiliar gesture and cold smile of hers tore at his nerves. Would her jam still have that faint flowery scent?
When he called her his master, the title burned at his tongue like acid.
Well, if the other man won't speak about his boss, perhaps the other cookies of darkness would work.
"And what about your companions? Do they also deserve their positions?"
His face immediately scrunched. "Euch. Absolutely not. They all have defective personalities."
The healer stamped down his urge to defend Cacao's child. "What makes them so terrible?"
"Would you like a list?" He watched in disbelief as Licorice took a whole journal out of his robes, flipping through the pages. He was handed a torn sheet he and tilted his flower to it, but Licorice started narrating everything on the paper, making it useless.
"Pomegranate is everything bad in the world. She always bosses everyone around and acts so superior to the rest of us. Red Velvet cares for nothing but his dogs. Dark Choco is kind of slow, and he doesn't talk to anyone. Strawberry Crepe is loud and annoying, but at least they don't tend to spend time in the castle."
"And what of Poison Mushroom cookie?"
He paused. "Poison Mushroom is a good kid."
He chuckled. "At least you aren't alone in her future."
"Yeah, say what you want about him, but the kid's not bad.
"...Why do you hold such negative opinions about Dark Choco anyway?"
A flash of guilt crossed the other's face, quickly followed by disgust. "Right, you two apparently know each other. What's up with that anyway?"
"It was a long time ago. The Dark Choco cookie you are familiar with is far removed from me."
The reaper squirmed, as though talking bad about the dark cookie to a former acquaintance made him uncomfortable. He hesitated before replying. "He's a doormat. He listens to the Dark Enchantress without question- which is not a bad thing!" he added quickly. "His nature extends to Pomegranate too, that's what sucks. She'll hurt him and he'll still do what she says. It's pathetic. Avoid getting between those two if you to enjoy your time here."
Not likely. Seeing his destroyed castle did not qualify as a good time, and he had already decided to do something about Dark Choco cookie's situation. "Does Pomegranate dislike him?"
"Absolutely despises him. I'm not even sure why." Pure Vanilla opened his mouth, but Licorice cut him off. "No, I know why. What I don't understand is the reason she takes everything so far."
He was almost afraid to ask. "What exactly does she do to him?"
"Her torture is entirely mental. I don't know what he sees, but the screams" The reaper shivered. "They're unpleasant."
He stiffened. How long had this been happening? Dark Choco cookie isn't someone who just lays down and takes a beating. The child would fight back. Had he been hurt so much he had just given up? A righteous fury started to burn in him. White Lily would not take well to the death of her servant, but anything short of that could fly. Pure Vanilla will try his best to protect his friend's son, damn the consequences.
"Our mistress allows her to use her powers on us, though thankfully he's the only one she targets."
"The Dark enchantress may change the order if I ask." If not, he had more drastic actions on the table, though those plans may not be necessary. His talk with her before the meeting echoed in his mind. She was willing to make some...exceptions when it came to Pure Vanilla. Though he would rather not offer her anything, if it came down to protecting Dark Choco, he would give up far more than a few locks of his hair.
The reaper was giving him a considering look, warier than he had been previously.
"Licorice cookie?"
"Why are you here? Someone like you shouldn't be part of the cookies of darkness."
The healer was thrown. "Sorry, I don't understand. Was I not being a good enough recruit?"
"No, it's-" He cleared his throat. "Forget it."
They spent the rest of the tour mostly in silence. The necromancer occasionally introduced some room or another, and Pure Vanilla nodded as though he was following along. Eventually they came to the end of a hall (servant's quarters, he thought absently) and Licorice pointed him to a room. His guide disappeared for a moment as he acquainted himself with his quarters. It had a simple bed and bathroom, broken mirrors and filthy floors from years of abandonment.
It was small, but far more than any denizen of Raisin village possessed. He loved soft things, and the dirty pillows squished pleasantly in his arms. He sneezed as a wave of dust floated from his movements.
I might as well do something about all this grime. He cringed at the incredible filth around him, setting his mind to making it somewhat livable. The blonde took some of his spare bandages and covered his nose and mouth. He fished a rag from a drawer and soaked it, then began wiping the floors. This room is about to get the best deep clean of its existence!
At some point, Licorice came in with a spare set of clothes. He took one look at the healer's fully bandaged face and called him a mummy, but Pure Vanilla ignored him, too caught up in his chore to mind.
For the next several hours, he wiped the floors and mirrors, washed down the blankets, smacked dirt from the curtains, and prayed that the castle's unmaintained plumbing could take the amount of disgusting water he forced through it. Finally, as the walls began to glow with new vitality and his hands started to bloat from all the moisture, he allowed himself a break and a change of clothes.
Pure Vanilla sat on the dusty mattress, sighed, then flopped onto his back. He picked up the robe that had been delivered. He held the red fabric up to the light, its colors mirroring the Dark Enchantress's black and red. Did she choose these colors purposefully? He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Though he wished to see any connection between her and White Lily, attention wasn't enough to prove that she had spared any compassion for their previous friendship. Plus, the idea that the sorceress crafted these clothes to fit, as one would do for a doll, disturbed him.
He rubbed the cloth on his cheek, needing the comfort even if it came from the enemy. The red robes crinkled in his grasp.
They were soft, at least.
"I am...a wretch." he breathed. The old king had returned to his castle, come home to nothing but the lonely silence, a once-great city long bereft of its citizens. Raisin cookie had practically begged him to stay and help in the town, saying how it would fall apart without a healer to help after wafflebot attacks. He had hesitated, acknowledging the truth of her words, but had gone anyway. When memories returned, he had wanted to run from the castle in the sky, every sight of it a reminder of how he had failed his kingdom, his people, and his friends.
And here I am, somehow failing myself. I, who had chosen the dark for her...
In a peaceful forest, a reaper had invoked the name of the Dark Enchantress. And he had come crawling back, like some worm blindly struggling for any nutrients on the cold ground.
Black Raisin cookie will never forgive him, and Pure Vanilla did not think he deserved any forgiveness if she offered.
He discarded his ragged robes and changed the dirty bandages over his face for new ones. His reflection in the bathroom sink peered back at him. The old king was no more. In his place stood a clean and presentable-looking man in simple scarlet robes, frown marring his delicate features.
His staff was placed facedown for the rest of the day, much to its annoyance.
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Pure Vanilla shifted around the sheetless mattress, trying to fall asleep. Night had descended upon the desolate kingdom, taking with it what noise the sparse bird or rat made. Unfortunately, being in his castle, once a place he associated with comfort and joy, made him prone to thinking thoughts he had previously kept under lock and key.
The healer knew he was a hypocrite. Sure, he tried to be a generally good person, but ultimately no one could deny their true nature. Hence, he once again inserted himself into a situation completely out of his depth. Joining the cookies of darkness was such a terrible idea, but he no longer had any advisors to stop him from making bad decisions. He acted like some kind of martyr in front of his friends, just to end up here.
Ancients were granted incredible power by their soul jams, given by the world itself. They were lauded as heroes, even worshipped as if they were gods. He tried to disavow this excessive subservience to some extent. However, It came in handy to be viewed in such a light, especially when trying to create allies among the kingdoms and smaller villages. Sometimes even his friends would treat him as a fundamental representation of good, the guide they look for in their moral values. He felt flattered and moved by their faith, but also a lingering shame as if he had lied to them. The Pure Vanilla they loved was a fake that can not truly exist. No matter how hard he tried to be the perfect king, a perfect friend, his mistakes and imperfections constantly dragged on his psyche. He wasn't good enough to have their trust. He wasn't good enough to deserve their love.
White Lily's situation proved as much.
He had pinpointed the moment they drifted apart as children. The day the Blueberry Institute had crumbled, she had looked so haunted. Empty, as though the world had suddenly stopped existing for her. The young girl had run from the consequences of what they did, and for years, decades, they had no contact. He tried to send her letters but could never find where she lived. He resorted to spelling the letters when that proved ineffective.
On the day of his coronation, she had arrived, in a dark hood and heavy bags under her eyes. Pure Vanilla was surprised- he had never truly given up on her, and yet the fact that she stood before him gave him a sense of joy that surpassed even the priest's scepter upon his shoulder and the weight of a crown upon his head.
The quiet woman was much different from her younger self that Pure Vanilla remembered. They had both changed since their time at the school. While the child had been ambitious and filled with wonder, a coy genius unparalleled in her thirst for knowledge, the woman was much more passive, so to speak. She did not flaunt her hard-earned magic, nor strove for any breakthrough in his sight. White Lily seemed to act content in her situation like a dog choosing to sit in a cage because it felt safer. Her actions belied a quiet desperation.
He wished to question her about where she had gone, what happened to her, but recalled her distraught emptiness and kept silent. If he had pried harder, told her that she had a shoulder to lean on, everything could have turned out differently. He wished he could turn back time and tell her it's okay. He also sought the revival of his kingdom, but stopping the Dark Enchantress took precedent. With her there, nothing could be built that wouldn't immediately be razed to ash.
Most of all, he just wanted to see White Lily again.
Even if it meant surrendering to the enemy.
Really, Pure Vanilla? Golden cheese scoffed. I thought you had more of a spine than to just give up.
What about all the people who rely on you? Hollyberry scowled in disappointment.
To endure against all the world, that is strength. Dark Cacao stood with his back against him.
You're a hypocrite, a liar, a two-faced bastard. I don't understand why the other kids hang from your robes. But even so...you are the better one among us. A white-haired ghost whispered, head on her knees, alone but for the quiet chittering of garden insects.
He shook away their echoes. He would not regret his decision. Of all the ancients, he had the best chance to sway the Dark Enchantress from her path. They had been together since childhood. The Dark Enchantress may not be his oldest friend, but he would not give up. Whatever caused her to change in form must have been incredibly powerful, enough to stifle portions of her personality or override it entirely. Even so, she had White Lily's memories. She must be buried deep somewhere, he was sure. If he can make the sorceress's lofty ambitions falter, whatever they may be, then it would all be worth it. Earthbread can take a breath of air and experience peace for the first in a long time.
If all it required was his own life, he would gladly pay that price.
But what about the others? He should at least send Hollyberry and Dark Cacao a letter so they know he is alive. He needed to fix up his kingdom as well. The cookies of raisin village needed a safe place to live, but with the wafflebots being sent from this castle, they will continue to suffer. That was another checkbox on his list: decommission or reprogram the machines so they would not be able to harm the villagers. Witches knew that Black Raisen cookie needed the reprieve.
Pure Vanilla hoped that he would be able to make that change. Perhaps he could indirectly push the resident mechanic to change the bots' orders? It was difficult to tell whether the authority the Dark Enchantress granted him was genuine.
...What did she do with his hair? He suspected some kind of spell. Many of the most powerful influence and control spells needed parts of a cookie's body or jam to work. He had taken a few snips, deeming it an insignificant price. That may come back to bite him. Would she control him to hurt others? Would the former White Lily kill him?
Wasn't giving up his life once enough? He had lost everything, his friends, his kingdom, his own identity. The healer didn't know if he could survive going through that again.
He smothered himself with his pillow, hoping that the lack of air would force him into sleeping. It failed to work.
Pure Vanilla spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sink fully into unconsciousness. He eventually gave up, hoping that simply closing his eyes would suffice for actual rest. After an indeterminable amount of time, light appeared in slits of windows, signaling dawn. His seeing flower perked up at the sun from within its covering, possessing none of his exhaustion.
A knock sounded on his door and he shoved his face into the pillow with a groan. After a few seconds, the person knocked again, louder than before.
"I'm up!" He trudged out of his bed in the same red robes as yesterday, wrinkled by all his tossing about. Pure Vanilla slammed the door open. Red Velvet stood before him, pristine and alert in the early morning. He squinted dazedly at the general.
"For your first assignment, you'll be with me."
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Notes:
Cookies go to therapy challenge (gone wrong) (gone sexual) (You'll never believe what they admitted to) (!!!)
The whole republic arc is so freakin good if I had come to the game later I would have probably written about that. Even so, PVC is a pretty sweet guy so its hard to pick :)