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Run and tell all of the angels, this could take all night
Think I need a devil to help me get things right
Hook me up a new revolution, 'cause this one is a lie
We sat around laughin' and watched the last one die
Children’s laughter rang across the stone wall as Phil laboured away under the bright sun in fields of soft brown soil. The crows wings ached as rain threatened the horizon, clouds thick in the blue sky coming closer as the hours progressed.
In their fields of food he was coaxing new seeds to life, found in a dungeon by a dear friend and given to the man with the most amount of resources to bring them to fruition. Since filling a few chests with potatoes they were changing a few plots to new species, giving their food more variety. Carving out small holes in the soil bed he lays the germinated seeds within, covering with a thick layer of the brown medium.
Taking a break to check on Chayanne and Tallulah, them dueling with fake swords as the blonde dragonborn taught the musical brunette how to defend herself. The ancient blonde man’s wings ached as without thought he preens, pondering. An old habit as broken feathers flutter to the floor, debating what to do next before the rain falls down upon them.
His worry about his chicks had only increased lately, mere days before Tallulah appeared another person’s child had died.
Philza couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards Quackity, remembering his past across many servers watching the youth he was supposed to protect perish. He was nearly at the point of going to see the grieving father, though they had rarely spoken within this world his heart ached thinking of the sorrow he must feel.
Tugging at his robes broke him from his concerns, looking down to see Tallulah and Chayanne his face breaks into a smile.
“Hello hatchlings, is there something you need?”
Gesturing to the sky, Tallulah writes on a sign about going inside, wanting to decorate their basement more as the storm draws closer. Chayanne yawned but looked excited, observing the brunette with a proud stare. Though her strengths were not through combat, she had been doing her best to practice at Philza’s heavy encouragement and Chayanne’s excellent tutelage.
It hurt him to put a sword in her hands instead of a bamboo flute, wishing he could sit and listen to her play all day. Gifted like her father, her melody brought her soul to life and she glowed while she played. Weaving notes through the cool air, Phil’s heart hummed along to her sweet tune.
Chayanne on the other hand took to the sword like a duck to water, easily picking up sparring like he was born to do so. His little warrior held a fierce and protective soul, determined to a fault to become the best fighter to save those who need it. Chayanne also refused to bow to rules he didn’t believe in, willing to go against the world if needed.
Some days more than others, it pained the crow to notice the similarities to the children he was raising now and those he raised then. A curly brunette with a musical soul bickering with a proud warrior, both on the same side but damn would they push each other to be their best.
A raindrop breaks the man’s focus, his children rolling their eyes and each grabbing a hand, dragging him over to the basement hatch. “Alright, alright, I’m coming mates. No need to rush, it's not like the basement is going anywhere.”
Chayanne smirks as he descends the ladder, Tallulah following him down with a backpack bursting with flowers. Though one of the youngest kids in this world as she had been here the shortest amount of time, she had won many hearts already.
Her favourite things were the fragrant blooms that surrounded them, this server having far more varieties of plants than the crow had ever seen. Other members had come by to meet this girl with curious intentions, Tallulah charming each of them by giving them the flowers she found. They quickly returned with some of their own, her inventory now overflowing with the beautiful specimens.
Working through most of the afternoon, they clean up and brighten the room his children would be sleeping in from now on. Wilbur, Tallulah’s father, was off serenading the world and had asked Phil to keep her close which he agreed too. Digging deep into the wall he lived on top of he carves out a sanctuary where his precious hatchlings would be safe from any harm.
Tallulah and Chayanne may be opposite in a lot of ways, but they instantly clicked from the moment they met. Working together they build where they would be living as Phil provides suggestions or materials, making a cozy space in the safety of below Chayanne’s original quarters.
Deciding to take a breather after a few hours, Phil tells his kids that he will be right back as he wanted to check if the rain had finished. Groaning as he climbed the ladder, eager to stretch his cramped wings, he clambered outside to a sight he didn’t expect.
Now I'm lookin' to the sky to save me, lookin' for a sign of life
Lookin' for something to help me burn out bright
I'm lookin' for a complication, lookin' 'cause I'm tired of lyin'
Make my way back home when I learn to fly high
Sitting against one of his avocado trees an attractive raven-haired man curled up with his arms around his knees, sheltering from the continued downpour. Dusty golden wings mussed with unaligned feathers, Quackity’s head snaps up seeing Philza approach him.
“Hey mate.” He greets, looking him over as Quackity stares back at him, blank. “You okay?”
Silence.
Phil’s soul felt shattered, knowing the safety of no words when the world became too much. Though his sympathies came from ancient times, they felt fresh looking into his agonized eyes of chocolate brown. Kneeling down slowly after getting out of the rain, the blonde tucks his legs beneath him and prepares to drag the answer from the avian.
Unfortunately for Quackity, Philza knew how to do so. Often the one with the comforting arms to many, the blonde crow had an idea of the phrases to offer for the sorrowful man to open up. After, of course, some good old touch. Avian hybrids enjoyed being around others like them and took comfort from physical contact letting them know a like-minded soul is close.
Holding out his hand, he waits for Quackity to take it before pulling him in close after the raven man nods. Wrapping his shorn wings around the man, Phil embraces him tightly as Quackity’s shoulders begin to shudder with sobs
“I’m so sorry, Quackity.” Phil mumbles, holding the man close. “They didn’t deserve the fate they received.”
“...t’s all my fault.” He chokes out, voice lacking the usual joy he glowed with before Tilín died.
“Hush, no, it’s not.”
Phil notices the crimson ribbon tied around his wrist, recognising it to be the same one the dragon child once wore in his brown hair. The blonde offered comforting words as Quackity tried again and again to blame himself, feeling terrible about how they had fought and disagreed.
Eventually he quiets down, both leaning back as the rain lets up slightly, Phil settling down across from the man. Quackity fidgets with his fingers before abruptly standing, looking towards where the sun beamed through the clouds.
“Well, it’s time for me to get going.” The raven man forces a cheerful tone, Phil raising one eyebrow as he stands with his joints aching.
“Go where?”
Quackity opens his mouth before freezing, looking down as Phil shakes his head, reaching out to grab his hand, gently tugging him towards the room above the crow’s own children. “There is no way I am letting you leave now mate, you clearly need some time around others who care.”
As they get inside, Phil places both hands on his shoulders, meeting his own sky eyes to the mocha ones across. “Tilín’s death was not your fault and you must stop blaming yourself for the past. It will entangle you that way, keeping you hostage and stagnant as you slowly waste away. You must accept that we cannot change what happened and find a way to keep living in their memory. They stay alive in the tales we tell, now let’s make some more stories tonight.”
“What?” Quackity is confused as Phil holds up one finger, leaving to climb down to where his children wait.
I think I'm done nursin' the patience, it can wait one night
I'd give it all away if you give me one last try
We'll live happily ever trapped if you just save my life
Run and tell the angels that everything's alright
Chayanne and Tallulah were sprawled across their respective beds, each working on their own hobbies as they killed time until the blonde crow returned. The blonde child put down his whetstone and the brunette let her flute fall to her lap, both eyes meeting Phil’s as he came into the room. Admiring the flowers and decorations for a moment, he turns to his chicks as they crawl from their beds.
“Quackity is upstairs.” Chayanne’s face sours as the blonde says this, Phil softly shaking his head at his son. “Be kind to him, I can only imagine the grief I’d feel in his shoes right now.”
Tallulah’s eyes widen, only hearing stories of the bow-wearing dragon that died before her appearance. She quickly writes down in her notebook, flipping the leatherbound book to Phil.
“ Can we help? ”
Phil smiles at her comforting soul, nodding. “I think you can. We are going to go back upstairs together and hopefully, I can convince him to let me preen his wings as he soaks up what you freely give, your love.”
Tallulah’s cheeks turn rose red, looking happy as Phil acknowledges her want of giving everyone on the server the feeling of being cared for.
Clambering up one by one, he leads them to where Quackity is collapsed into a wooden chair near the window. The attractive man seems bittersweet seeing the excitable dears until Tallulah throws herself into his arms, holding him close as he visabley relaxes.
The raven avian didn’t seem to want to open up anymore, too trapped in self-blame and torment as Phil slid a chair to the middle of the room. He looks with questions woven in his expression as the blonde man gestures to him to come over, patting the seat of the chair as he ties his shoulder-length blonde tresses up. Fingers lingering on the eight beads he wore tucked around a braid that hung from behind his left ear; rose pink, daffodil yellow, leaf green, blood red, indigo purple, caramel brown, ocean blue and gold, all hand carved and carefully dyed with whatever the crow could find.
Quackity comes to sit down in the oak chair, Phil pausing his eager fingers to ask. “I only want to help with your feathers, may I?”
The grieving father seems unsure before finally letting his shoulders fall. “Please.”
Working quietly as Tallulah finds her flute, asking through a sign if they wished to hear her newest song. Giving her the go ahead, Phil works to realign primaries and secondaries, adept fingers lining up the tiny hooks that allow for easier flight. Though neither could reach the skies due to them being clipped by an unknown force before they awoke here, old habits die hard. Chayanne keeps his distance for a little bit until Phil gets an idea, knowing his son was itching for something to do with his fingers tugging at one another.
“Chay, can you make us something to drink? I am craving some hot chocolate right about now, how about you two?”
Tallulah enthusiastically agreed which brings the tiniest smile to Quackity’s face seeing the dragon born’s joy before saying yes too. Chayanne looks grateful to be given something to do, disappearing downstairs where most of his cooking equipment was.
Many feathers lay on the floor at this point, some of the shafts broken beyond repair as he hadn’t cared for them for what seemed to be a while. Phil apologizes each time Quackity winces, the man remaining silent as Tallulah serenades them.
“I wish I had been able to apologize.” The attractive man speaks quietly, looking at Tallulah as she lets the music die out. “Too often the distance between us was because of me, I wasn’t the best father.”
Phil decides to just listen for a moment, seeing if he will elaborate before he interjects. Reminiscing of a similar time he had coached Wilbur to mend things between himself and Quackity on a world none besides him remembered at this point, he keeps working, waiting to see if he continues.
“Sometimes I forgot I needed to take care of them, that Tilín was a child who was still growing. He didn’t know everything, some answers he still required me for as well as basic care that a parent should show for their young.” His voice tightens, choking out. “I neglected a precious relationship I should have nurtured, not forgotten.”
“I understand.” Phil adds after a few beats of quiet, fingers shaking for the first time as he continues his ministrations. “Far too well, but that's a story for another time.”
“ You loved Tilín. ” Tallulah carves on a sign, turning to face Quackity. “ I can see it in your regrets and tears, you don’t need to blame yourself. ”
“My smart girl.” Phil prides, looking down at the echo of his own past pain, remembering Technoblade giving him a similar talk after everything went down with Wilbur. Emerald earring tapping his neck as he leans closer to Quackity’s shoulder joints, soft down brushing callous digits as he cares for the most delicate feathers.
“But I do.” Quackity argues, hands tightening over his knees where they were placed. “How can I not?”
“You cannot change it mate, so why expend the energy?” It was harsh but true, trying a different approach than coddling as Quackity stiffens up.
Chayanne reappears at that moment, handing out mugs to each. Taking a moment longer standing in front of Quackity, he gives him the steaming cup and pats his white-knuckled hand before going to the dragon girl’s side.
“If you only hate the memories you have you will sour them.” Eons of exhausted experience rings through Phil’s accented tone, pausing to clutch the raven’s shoulder. “Trust me mate, don’t let those precious times decay into soured stories. It hurts all the more when you do.”
Going back to his maintenance, he gets all the way to gently sponging down the man’s now clean feathers when Quackity eventually speaks again. Cups emptied and hearts full, Tallulah had collapsed into the sitting man’s arms before falling asleep.
Chayanne didn’t look too far off, blinking quickly where he perched on Philza’s bed between yarns. Cradling the girl close, Phil could see the smile from his side profile as the blonde finished the tip of his left wing.
“They are our future, aren’t they?”
Phil grins, moving to Quackity’s other winged appendage as he nods. “They are, they are a product of everything we have done right in the world to hopefully pass onto them one day. They are our legacies and the best of us, we can only do our best to protect them and teach them how to be kind.”
“Tilín will never get that.” A tear runs down Quackity’s cheekbone, on this world clear of the scar the crow’s best friend had carved there.
He saw remnants of the bloodthirsty man from before, but with the right guidance that fierceness could be aimed at protecting the remaining youth. “She won’t, but Tallulah will. Same as Chayanne.”
Phil pointed to each of his kids, Tallulah smiling in her sleep as she cuddles closer to Quackity’s royal blue sweater.
“I know it’s all far too fresh, and it will still hurt you for a long time yet. Anytime you need a reminder that you will get through this, I want you to come to me.”
Phil’s words are harsh with a good-natured heart, kneeling to meet the sitting avian’s gaze. “I know how it feels to be alone mate, you don’t have to be.”
Quackity blinks his eyes quickly, water welling up as he softly questions. “Truly?”
“Never again. I know you have been going through a lot, but I refuse to let you suffer alone. My door is always open to you, I don’t want you to feel isolated. Let me help you.” The blonde practically begs, hoping the other will listen. “Let us be your safety net.”
Holding Tallulah closer, he looks back down while considering it before offering the softest. “Okay.”
Now I'm lookin' to the sky to save me, I'm lookin' for a sign of life
Lookin' for something to help me burn out bright
I'm lookin' for a complication, lookin' 'cause I'm tired of tryin'
Make my way back home when I learn to fly high
Make my way back home when I learn to
Phil stood outside, peering up at the shimmering stars while everyone slumbered within the walls he built to protect his family. Quackity had helped move both children to their rooms before Phil pulled out his spare bedroll, pointing to the couch telling the raven man to stay over.
He worried too much with how fragile the man’s mindset was, thinking how distant his gaze went when they mentioned the lost dragonborn child.
The blonde crow settles down to let his legs hang over the edge, enjoying the vastness above as he thinks about the day transpired. He hadn’t expected the half-drowned man to show up today but Philza was glad he did. Now he could keep a close eye on him while the man healed a bit more.
He knew how much a child’s loss could ravage your soul, he only hoped to mend it enough that Quackity felt content moving forward. The amount Philza had similar advice beaten into his own head as his sewn-together heart thundered thinking of those he mourned, he sent a prayer to Her their souls are at rest.
It was a rough lifetime, outlasting all you grew close too besides his best friend, Techno. Though the piglin was off fighting gods on other worlds, they would eventually come home to one another.
Everyone else left them behind. They found their peace as both crow and pig kept moving forward, souls growing heavy with each friend they lost.
Phil knew how Quackity felt, far too intimately, and only hoped he could inspire some passion back into the man who walked without a goal currently.
The first time he saw him smile was when the raven avian cradled Tallulah, Phil knew the man still cared for those who made their homes with other members of the server. Perhaps that could be Quackity’s new motivation, protecting the youth from the fate his Tilín met.
The wind rustles past him, nature’s music caressing his face as his thoughts circle back to the children he was charged with protecting.
Completely different, yet perfect. They had their squabbles, all siblings do, but they also had so much passion they practically shone with it. Phil could only hope he stoked those fires so they saw no danger and knew only love.
Maybe, just maybe, he could convince Quackity to do the same.
After he properly mourned his child, surrounded by healing energy as long as he benefited from it before Philza would urge him to find himself once more. For now, he would care for the sorrowful raven man, letting his children be themselves around him in hopes it brings him joy once more.
Looking up at the glittering stars, he can only hope She will watch over Quackity in this delicate time and that he was doing the right thing.
Warmth washed through his chest, a crow with glittering purple eyes cawed from the tree in response to his silent pleading. Mumbling in Enderian, he gives Her his love and returns to his home.
Maybe in the morning he will see if his kids want to bake, often a fun time. Flour will get everywhere and the whole process will probably take three times the amount it should, but for their laughter he would do it a million times over.
Fly along with me, I can't quite make it alone
Try to make this life my own
Fly along with me, I can't quite make it alone
Try to make this life my own
“How did you do that?” Quackity asks awed to Chayanne where he stood by a griddle, making pancakes shaped liked ducks with ease.
The blonde boy smiles triumphantly, Tallulah working her way through Philza’s left wing as the blonde attends to his right. After spending hours doing Quackity’s yesterday he didn’t have the energy to do his own, doing it in the early morning hours they were enjoying. His little brunette dearest was a natural after he taught the dragonborn how at her prompting, wishing to help with the enormous task especially as the moulting season approached.
Night-shaded feathers fell to the stone ground, Tallulah working her way through her area quickly with precise attention to detail. They finish around the same time, Phil ruffling her soft curls before she bounds over to Chayanne’s side, where now he was making pancakes shaped like other types of animals for her.
Phil slides back closer to the raven man, Quackity looking significantly better this morning watching the siblings speak through hand gestures before Chayanne flips the cat-shaped pancake.
Quackity asks Phil where he settles in, waiting his turn for a pancake request. “Did you teach him how to cook?”
Phil shakes his head no, shrugging before chuckling. “I have no idea, he just woke up knowing how. Thank god though, I could burn water.”
Quackity giggles at that, watching the siblings work together to plate Tallulah’s meal and bring the syrup over to the table. Chayanne stands in front of Phil and tilts his head, holding the spatula.
“Want to try making me a pig-shaped treat?” Chayanne’s eyes shine, both father and son’s mind being drawn to the piglin Philza often spoke about.
Getting to work with vigour, they soon all have breakfast in front of them then they dig in together. Trading light comments throughout, all four make plans for the day together. Quackity seems to be in no rush to leave after Phil insists him to stay a while, letting the blonde put him to work planting more seeds that sprouted overnight.
Between the four of them, the work went quickly and pleasantly. Moreso, Phil was happy to see Quackity smiling more. When the man made his first sarcastic crack, the crow felt at ease despite the joke aimed at him.
Despite the banter, Quackity’s true mischievous self began to poke back through. Soon he and Chayanne were back to trading sharp teases, eyeing one another from across the soil plot. Tallulah and Phil worked peacefully side by side, enjoying the commentary provided by the two snarky boys.
The rest of the day passed along the same tune, laughter among the sarcasm as the family supported the man who lost a precious being. They put aside their past gripes and held their hands out to the one who needed it, thankful Quackity accepted it.
Perhaps he would stay a week. Maybe even a whole moon. But Phil refused to let anyone talk shit about the ones who don’t deserve it, even if it's aimed at themselves. So here Quackity would stay, being treated with a kind hand while he found passion once more.
More than once, Phil had been accused of being far too kind and letting others take advantage of him. Occasionally, there were repercussions but he refused to stop. His heart beat as long as he remained caring of those around him, it was his sole purpose in their very long lifetime he had lived. Making memories with the ones who would become such in time, he treasured every moment they spent together.
I'm lookin' to the sky to save me, I'm lookin' for a sign of life
Lookin' for something to help me burn out bright
And I'm lookin' for a complication, lookin' 'cause I'm tired of tryin'
Make my way back home when I learn to
Lookin' to the sky to save me, I'm lookin' for a sign of life
Lookin' for something to help me burn out bright
I'm lookin' for a complication, lookin' 'cause I'm tired of tryin'
Make my way back home when I learn to fly high
Make my way back home when I learn to fly
Make my way back home when I learn to...