Submission (#5170) Approved

DE001 is wholly unused to spending time on his lonesome these days. 

He has become accustomed to being split between various obligations and interests, all of which are attached to some sort of living entity. From his courses at Il'durahn's academy to the trimming of his young hunter pup's tangled fur, DE001 is never alone.

And yet there's nothing he's ever experienced quite like being lonely. It had scared him, at first. Zephyrus and DE001 spend, at minimum, 45 hours together every week. With his most trusted confidant lost to the whiles of his family for a time, he's at a loss on what to do. Normally, he'd regale his pomu with his innermost thoughts, and use the small ball of black tar as a silent listener. To be separated from other conscious beings isn't what it was once; now, he has life to turn to at all times. 

Now, even his pomu has left his side. 

Well. Technically, it floats next to him, mingling with the breezy autumnal air of Bellmoril's pleasant afternoons. Light filters through the fiery, speckled leaves, bouncing off its crystalline form. DE001 thinks that maybe he read about this, somewhere, but it probably slid off his mind in exchange for room for celestial diagrams, alchemical equations, and long-forgotten runes. Without motivation and structure to guide him, learning becomes chasing butterflies, pages of information scattering in the wind.

Shifting on his paws, DE001 splays his work on his wooden draft table. Normally, he'd be taking this time to work on his assignments. In fact, that's what he'd been doing for hours, but obviously having no partner to bounce hypotheticals off of wasn't working in his favor. DE001 tries to go back to his essay, but his mind feels like molasses. 

His frozen pomu feels like a looming presence, turning the air cold. DE001 had stoked a fire into his meager chimney an hour ago to stave off the creeping dread, but the slowly setting sun has turned his mood even more dour. 

Sighing, DE001 tilts his head away from his work. 

Just past his floating friend, the window remains wide open. The lilac curtains are drawn, so he can see that the cobblestone path that leads to the rest of the student cottages needs to be swept of fallen leaves. An old, stone bench lays tilted across a bed of overgrown, fickle roots and the sheddings of the tree above it. Beyond the line of yellow-orange-red trees, DE001 can just make out the pale white of the enormous eldertree. 

Maybe a change of scenery would do his wandering mind some good. Settle out across the bench and prep a candle or two for a night of work in the foliage. Bellmoril has pleasant nights and even more pleasant mornings, so an all nighter wouldn't be remiss. The thought congeals in his head, swaying across various points of affirmative action. 

Before he can truly entertain the idea though, his thoughts quickly turn back to his floating companion. To let the glittering gem stay out in the open would be to put it at risk of chipping, or rust, or damage; the idea of magic and mana has no sway on the madness of paranoia, and it just wouldn't do to let his unwitting friend be left to ruin. 

But there's still work to be done. It seems like isn't just that his mind wanders; the runes lose all cohesion, alchemy chases bitter ends, once brilliance becomes manic scribbling. With a grimace and clarity he realizes that his work is a goner, at least for now.

To be trapped in such a foreign place, in a foreign body, it's– 

DE001 sighs. Reaches out with a hesitant hand, rubbing his paws across the ragged surface of the gem. It houses his tiny little friend, trapped in an unsightly form that must be strange and unnatural. A sudden bitterness surges through him, tangled in a complicated mess. He hates seeing his pomu like this. 

With a burst of strange energy, DE001 grabs a glass bauble from his work station, and loops a piece of braided cord through one end. Catching his glinting pomu where it bobs in the air, DE001 pushes it through the glass opening. It floats to the top of its new home. 

A home, a cage, a mask; all of it feels wrong, but DE001 needs to keep his last bit of comfort close, so he tugs it towards himself. Wrapping the cord around his neck, the kittom ties it as tight as he can stand at his nape. 

The sound of birds going to nest for the night filters in through his window. Crickets are just starting to sing the song of night, and his pomu's incessant need to float taps against the glass every time he swings his head. 

But as he brings a handheld mirror up to look at himself, he can't help but feel possessively right. 

Looking out at the sunset sky, DE001 takes in the view once more. He can feel his new necklace tug at him, as if pulling him towards the wooden sill. DE001 follows it. He abandons his work station, and finds his eyes catch on a small twinkle winking at him from beyond the dense thicket of trees. 

A pale figure slopes out from between the gray tree trunks. There's a flutter in his chest that he can't quite parse, but DE001 thinks it might be affection. Or, in more particular terms, love. 

"What's got you looking so glum?" Zephyrus calls gleefully, smile absolutely radiant. 

And there's nothing DE001 can do but smile back, and head for the bench.