Chapter Text
Virgil was going to strangle Remus.
His heart hadn’t stopped racing yet, even as they got far away from those guards. He had enough experience being chased in Remus’ side of the imagination for a lifetime, thank you very much. He’d thought he’d be spared from that at least.
Seriously, couldn’t Remus have shifted before? Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if he’d done it on purpose, the little shit.
They decided to take the shortcut from the alley to the edge of town, through what he imagined to be the seedier part of it. Shadows crept onto their path, and bit by bit they bathed the stone tiles in misery. The shift in atmosphere was jarring. Bricks crumbling from walls and suspicious puddles near taverns painted an unnerving picture, and look, Virgil was well-acquainted with shadows. Weird that it came from Roman, but he guessed it might be for suspense.
“Mood is vital in a scene,” Roman had explained to Virgil once, spinning from his chair to gesture widely. “It’s the color palette of your story. You pick up on it even if you don’t consciously notice it.”
Virgil had snorted in response, making himself comfortable in the mountain of pillows Roman kept on his bed. “I see, is that why you need 5 different candles, colorful lighting and a white noise soundtrack to write?”
“Whatever serves to bring me inspiration, my fabulous killjoy!”
They had laughed together at that. But now Virgil found himself resenting the concept of ‘mood’ more than anything, now that it served more to give him a goddamn heart attack. He heard scuttling on every dark corner, and knowing they very well could be magical creatures didn’t help him relax one bit.
As they came to the actual town, it became clear it was just as busy as the townsquare. People rushed through the daily routine, though never acknowledging their presence or interacting in any way. That settled strangely in his stomach. It was almost as if they were ghosts to the villagers.
Virgil pinched himself. What? He was just making sure.
Remus, cozily wrapped in Patton’s hoodie while sitting on his shoulder, had described the royal crest to them. Pretty much the same as Roman’s logo apparently, and he’d told them to search for it. Outside of decorations and flags, it was actually pretty scarce in the crowd.
There were villagers of all sorts around, and like in a classic fantasy story, magic-users apparently weren’t uncommon. He could spot various people carrying around staffs, potions, and sometimes heavy tomes, magical spells on their tongues. A kid dropped a potion near Logan’s feet and his expression was priceless. Virgil made to say a quip but held back when he saw the furrow in Logan’s brow.
Best not to bother him, then.
He turned back to glance at the rest of their little group, finding them distracted already by — he squinted — a butterfly? It flew around them for a moment, shiny wings fluttering behind it, before landing right on Patton’s finger. The side’s awed expression bloomed into a huge, excited smile.
Poking out of Patton’s scarf, Remus stared at the butterfly with those wide, beady eyes that were, at best, disconcerting. And next to them, as usual, Janus held that familiar, infuriating smirk on his face while he spoke, as if he’d just said the cleverest thing in the world. Patton giggled in response, like he believed it.
Virgil curled his nails into his palms, hard.
Maybe they should’ve kept a closer eye on Remus, because before any of them could stop him, he reared up in his little hind legs and leaped, straight out of Patton’s shoulders, making him yelp in surprise. Virgil blinked as he watched Remus aim directly for the butterfly.
His little paws grabbed onto a wing, and it ripped like a sheet of paper.
Yup, that’s Remus. Virgil thought, a little hysterical. He really was something else, his brand of chaos hadn’t changed at all with time, at the core of it.
That… sounded way too fond for what it was. Remus was deranged, unhinged, whatever else he’d gladly say about himself. He didn’t hesitate to twist fears for fun. There was no universe where Virgil would ever remember that fondly.
Right.
Janus managed to catch him mid-fall, cupping Remus with his hands, and Patton chastised Janus after he lightly squeezed him. It somehow ended with the three of them back at playful comments towards each other. Virgil turned back around with a huff, eyes scanning over the crowd as he searched for a sign of the emblem.
He tried to just let their banter drone into the background as they walked, but it didn’t help much. Too familiar for its own good. He kicked a small rock, watching it jump one, two tiles before it rolled back. It was worse when he tuned it out, Virgil decided, worse when it was vague. Because then the conversation and easy laughter could map onto any of the memories he didn’t want to think about. Then their voices hung like a specter in his mind, and he had to set himself straight, to remind himself no matter the game nights, sleepovers and silly discussions, he’d left for a reason.
He pulled his hood up, burrowing into it the best he could. He didn’t have the patience for this today. Roman was still out there somewhere, they needed to get a move on or else—
Someone knocked into his shoulder and Virgil ducked on instinct, taking a step back. A woman seemed to be the culprit, holding a straw basket to her chest with an apologetic look.
“Sorr—” She began, and Virgil’s eyes widened when she started flickering, her image fading back and forth as her voice repeated like a broken record.
Then she disappeared.
“What the fuck?”
Patton didn't even comment on his language, staring at her previous spot, looking a bit green. He whimpered.
“I don't think I like it here very much.”
“Hm,” Logan said, tilting his head. “None of the figments we’ve crossed by have reacted in this way. Or reacted at all, for that matter. Perhaps it’s because she spoke to you.” He turned to Remus with a questioning look.
“Damn,” Remus exclaimed, sounding almost a little impressed. “Uh, I think the imagination is having trouble with you being here as sides, it messes with how this world works. So when a figment tried to actually interact it just kinda—” He lifted his paws in what looked like it was supposed to be a shrug. “—lagged.”
“Great,” Virgil groaned. “So now we have to find Roman and we can’t even talk to anyone—”
A little chime echoed near them and their eyes all snapped to its direction. A small ball of light now floated in their midst, glowing with the colors of the rainbow.
Virgil barely even had time to react before Patton reached out a hand to touch it. Bright, white light flashed around Virgil’s vision and he shut his eyes.
A few seconds passed, a weird, tingly sensation passed through his body like a chill and suddenly it felt like something had weighed him down.
“Well, isn’t that plot-convenient,” Virgil heard Janus drawl, just as he opened his eyes.
He looked down.
It turned out, not only did his clothes change, Virgil was wearing full-blown armor. Metal breast-plate, pauldron, whatever else the other parts were called, the whole thing. No helmet, thankfully.
He staggered under the weight of it as he tried to move, the fact that he was holding a spear — yes, the joust kind of spear, striped and all — did not help in the balance factor in the slightest. Geez, he thought these things would be lighter.
“Oh for Newton’s sake,” Logan muttered. He was in a similar situation, a starry blue cloak wrapped around him and a bag strapped across his shoulder that looked entirely too heavy to be carried like that. Logan looked like some sort of mage — though Virgil did have to say those clothes kind of fit him, which he was sure the other would be chagrined about.
Patton and Janus’ clothes also shifted. Something like a baker’s uniform for Patton, white apron tied in a bow at his back and a cap on his head, and Janus — well, not even trying to insult him, but he looked like an aristocrat villain from a Barbie animated movie.
“Look at you!” Remus snickered, scurrying under Patton’s new scarf. Still a mouse, then. “Finished with a LARP session? Shoulda know you dorks were into roleplay.” He giggled, though it sounded more like high-pitched squeaking.
“Yes, very funny.” Janus deadpanned, then his eyes flitted to his outfit and he scrunched up his nose. He reached to pull down his cap. A large wide-brimmed hat replaced the old one, adorned by a huge, eyesore of a yellow feather. He sighed. “Well, isn’t this lovel— ack!”
Virgil bit his lip to hold back laughter as Deceit stumbled face first into a branch. Just as he stepped back, clutching his nose, the branch rose from its position, settling higher. Almost as if it had shifted specifically to hit him.
Forget anything bad Virgil ever said about the imagination.
They joined back in with the crowd, and apparently, the costumes made a hell of a difference. People waved and greeted them on the street as if they’d known each other for their entire lives. Someone even tried to hug Patton, which he happily returned, because of course he did. Their new roles fit right in with the bustling town of the imagination.
It really was something else. At least in contrast to Remus’ side. Virgil could remember a few fantasy locations over there, but most of it looked more like if you gave a toddler a blank canvas and ten buckets of paint. They used to go to town there, with all the creatures and horror possibilities.
The aftermath was never pretty.
With no longer a hoodie to burrow into, Virgil cast his eyes down as they walked past the townspeople. Despite the wide-eyed looks he got, not many tried to get close to him, some even clearing the way. Silver linings. Still, he stayed a bit behind the group, keeping an eye on them. You know, just in case.
“Wouldn’t it be wiser for us to look in the castle?” Logan asked. “Presumably, if Roman is the prince of this land, someone there should know his whereabouts.”
“There’s no way there’s not at least a servant around here, and trust me getting into the castle is way harder– eek!” Remus squeaked, hiding under Patton’s scarf as a guard approached them.
“Excuse me, sir,” said the guard, looking at Patton. “We’re searching for someone. I’m afraid the Duke has gotten into our borders once again, and we’ve spotted him in town. Have you seen him, perhaps? A mustachioed fellow, strange black outfit.”
“Um. I– uh—” Patton stammered, shooting the guard a nervous, unconvincing grin as he fidgeted with his hands. The guard narrowed their eyes at him. “Actually, I– uh.”
“Oh my, what a terrible thing,” Janus chimed in, wearing a sympathetic look, a hand pressed to his chest. “Well, I apologize, I’m afraid we haven’t seen anyone like that around. We just got here, you see, we must’ve missed the commotion.”
The guard turned their attention to Deceit, to which Patton slumped with relief.
“Oh, I understand. If you do see him, don’t be afraid to seek out the royal guard.” They smiled. “I hope you have a good day— oh!”
Virgil cowered when the guard stared directly at him. Strangely though, they bowed their head.
“Sir Virgil! I’m terribly sorry, I did not see you there. Are you on the search too?” they asked, sheepish.
“I— uh—” Baffled, Virgil held his spear tighter, eyes flitting between the guard and the other sides.
Damnit, was he a knight or something? What was he supposed to do with that?
Remus poked his head out of Patton’s scarf, giving Virgil a pointed look. He motioned to the guard with his head. Virgil followed the movement, gaze landing on the guards uniform. The royal crest embroidered right on their chest. Duh .
Virgil cleared his throat.
“Actually, I’m here to meet with Prince Roman. Do you know where he is?”
“The Prince?” The guard blinked. “He left the kingdom a few hours ago.”
A wave of dread hit Virgil, but before he could react, a voice caught the guard’s attention and with wide eyes they said: “I’m sorry, Sir Virgil! I need to go, but I’m sure the Prince will come back soon!”
Virgil watched as they ran off, gritting his teeth.
“So he’s not here?”
“What? No, he has to be here somewhere,” Remus said, his voice just an edge nervous. “No, I know. We just need to ask the right person.”
Remus jumped from Patton’s shoulder, landing on the floor on four paws. “C’mon!”
They did their best to keep up with Remus as he darted across the streets, though Virgil resigned to simply follow Logan, who more easily managed to track a mouse rushing through the crowd.
“Well, that was close,” Patton chuckled nervously to Janus, lightly elbowing him. Virgil narrowed his eyes. “If you hadn’t stepped in, I don’t know just what I would’ve said to that guard.”
Before he could stop himself, really, he scoffed. “One thing you can trust a liar to do is lie.”
It came off just as harsh as Virgil had imagined in his head, but the venom in his voice still surprised him. Janus just had a way of bringing out the worst in him, he guessed.
Patton gave him one of those disappointed, chiding looks. Like Virgil was a child that needed to be told to get along, like he was somehow unreasonable for not trusting Deceit. Hah.
“Whatever,” Virgil cut Patton off before he could start, walking right past them.
Logan raised an eyebrow as he sidled up to him.
“He’ll be fine,” Virgil muttered.
Their destination wasn’t much farther away, it turned out, and soon enough they stood before what was probably the biggest shop around. ‘Fairy godmother’s potions’, the sign read. A few steps of stairs led to a huge wooden door, surrounded by stone brick walls that formed rooms left and right, windows dotted throughout. You couldn’t see anything from the inside, though, the curtains were pulled shut on every window. Virgil bit his lip.
He didn’t like that one bit.
Remus scurried back to Patton, scratching at his feet, and was promptly picked up.
“Let’s go!”
When they reached the entrance, Logan was the one to knock . The response took only a few seconds. An older woman opened the door, dressed in sparkly blue robe with equally sparkly silver wings to match, her gray hair braided in a bun. Though something about her felt off . In a way different from other figments. Virgil couldn’t place it. Maybe it was the eyes, that stared blankly at them.
She said nothing, simply turning around and letting them in. As she did, Virgil spotted something strange wrapped around her ankle.
A rose?
Before he could give much thought to it, the store lit up. As if she’d hit a switch, colorful lamps placed all around the many shelves glowed at once, reflecting on the flasks and vials, and replacing the sunlight that should’ve come from the windows. Then, the woman — Fairy Godmother, apparently — started humming a simple tune, meandering around her own shop like she was lost.
“Um,” Patton started, approaching her. “Excuse us, ma’am—”
That made her freeze for a second, then she turned to face them almost mechanically.
“If you wish to know the answer you seek,” she sang. “Do not be so slow, at once you should speak.”
If Roman got them trapped in a world that works by musical logic, Virgil was going to kill him as soon as they found him.
"The dragon witch never told me she spoke in rhyme,” Remus said, doing the best pout a mouse could.
“She sure is direct,” Patton tittered, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. “Um, okay, do you know where Ro- I mean, Prince Roman, is?”
Fairy Godmother tilted her head, flickering for a brief second. When she opened her mouth, her voice was just the edge of static. “To go on this journey and find your king. Beware, for four items you'll need to bring.
“One: the bell as white as milk;
Two: the gem as red as blood;
Three: the bag as yellow as corn;
Four: the mirror as pure as gold.”
Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Into the woods?”
“Roman is such a fucking nerd,” Remus sneered.
“The c- uh, bell as white as milk, the gem as red as blood, the bag as yellow as corn, the mirror as pure as gold!” Patton sang, following the tune of the song. He shrugged. “At least it won’t be hard to remember.”
“Frustratingly vague, however.” Logan sighed, turning to the Fairy Godmother. She paid him no mind. “What type of bell? A church bell, a handbell? Why would it be white in the first place? What are we supposed to do with these items?”
“Yeah, I don’t think she’s answering questions, L,” Virgil grimaced, she’d wordlessly skipped off to one of her shelves. “We’ll just have to figure it out.”
“Great,” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. Virgil got it. It wasn’t like he was enthused by that either.
“So what’s the game plan?” he asked. “Because, for all we know, these things could be anywhere in the whole damn kingdom.”
Logan adjusted his tie. “For efficiency’s sake, I believe—”
“Let’s split! We’ll cover more ground that way.” Remus chirped, drawing Virgil’s attention to him. “Besides, there’s nothing actually dangerous around here.” He pouted, as if that was somehow a disappointment.
“And how will we know if it’s the item we’re looking for?” Janus crossed his arms. “It’s not like those are especially rare.”
“Pfft, it’s a fetch quest . If anything the stuff will probably glow or some shit. You’ll know it when you see it.”
“We could go in pairs!” Patton chimed in. “We’ll need a meet-up spot, though. How about the market?”
“Fine by me,” Virgil shrugged, turning to Logan, because hell if he was going to pair up with Deceit. “Hey, L—”
Only to find that spot empty.
“ —Aaand Logan’s gone,” Virgil groaned.
Off to a great start.
Say what you will, but these sheets are absolutely divine. Roman thought as he ran his fingers across the careful embroidery that lined the downy edges.
After spending a good 15 minutes gazing out the balcony, searching for a weakness in the tower’s structure or even a stray woodland creature he could ask for help, to no avail, Roman had decided to check out the room instead. He was drawn to the bed immediately.
He’d sat on it, perplexed. The mattress was the kind of soft you could just sink into, relieving all the minor aches in his legs instantly. The sheets, cotton that neither scratched or itched, were impossibly warm and comfortable against his skin. Clearly whoever or whatever trapped him here cared for his comfort, for some reason. The tower was built to his exact tastes, so his “captor” knew him and knew him well. Roman didn’t know how to feel about it.
Though, something about the bed, like those displays at mattress stores, just compelled him to lie down, even though a small part of him warned against it. Helpless to resist, he followed that instinct, resting against the many pillows and blankets.
And just as he did so, he felt a heavy feeling settle on his body, his vision blurring out the sunlight into a cherry red. Roman’s eyes fluttered closed, and he fell under.
Something touched Roman's cheek, gently rousing him from sleep. He grumbled, clutching tighter at his pillow as he tried to fight awareness. The touch became more persistent, poking at him until he blearily opened his eyes.
He could make out green amongst his blurry vision. Ugh. The vines. Those wretched things were really getting on his nerves. He moved to lie back down, because this had been the best nap he’d taken in years and he wasn’t about to let go just yet.
Before he could even do that, though, vines wrapped around his wrists, and pulled him up and off the bed abruptly. He let out a yelp as he stumbled.
“Fine! I’m up! Get off me!” Roman shrieked, batting away at the plant until it retreated. “Geez.”
Roman stretched his arms over his head, and then his neck. It didn’t even crack. By Jove, that bed was magic. He made to step away, but startled when something blocked his way.
Clothes. The whole ensemble, in fact, neat and tidy in a hanger.
“Um,” Roman watched the vines warily as they presented the attire. He moved to the right, but when he tried to sidestep it, suddenly the outfit was pushed insistently into his chest. Roman sighed. “Fine, if you wanna play dress-up.”
The vines retreated as he began to change, which he was… relieved? by. He didn’t even know anymore. It’s not like they had eyes. This was already so goddamn strange.
In any case, the clothes were intricate. Endless ribbons and buttons that needed to be fastened, white and gold brocade tailored perfectly to his body. It managed to be more over the top than the outfits he’d normally pick for ceremonies, which was certainly a feat.
Though lacing up the back was a bit of a struggle, God so help him he would do it by himself — if the alternative was asking the vines for help. Those things were weird.
Speak of the devil, as soon as he finished changing, they burst from the ground again.
Roman glared at them. “What do you want now?”
The vines didn’t seem to be chastised by that. Instead, one of them poked his shoulder and pointed to the left, slithering towards a… vanity. A beautiful white affair stashed with bottles, drawers and tiny ornate boxes - A huge mirror front and center. Roman furrowed his brow. That wasn’t there before, or else he’d surely have noticed it. Then, the vines pulled back the chair and he felt a gentle push against his back.
Roman stared at the desk as he sat down, eyeing the variety of products laid out in front of him. Perfumes, jewel cases, accessories, creams and powders. He sneaked a look into the mirror. He didn’t look …too worse for wear, especially considering he’d just woken up. Better than he generally did in the mornings, anyway, his beauty routine was extensive for a reason. So as it stood, he had no clue what the damned things wanted him to do.
They got impatient, it seemed. All at once, the vines slithered up the desk, wrapping around brushes and opening the drawers. Roman barely had the chance to squirm away before they commenced with the attack.
He was pushed and pulled as they applied all sorts of products to his face and hair at an alarming speed, like he was a film star getting ready for a scene. It was like the vines came from all directions, spraying him with perfume and draping jewelry across his limbs. He nearly had a coughing fit when they came in with the makeup powder. Needless to say, it made him feel like some sort of dress-up doll.
Finally, after dropping a circlet on his head, they let go of him. Roman frowned, wondering what mess they made of his looks, and then he got a glimpse of the mirror.
He looked ethereal.
The gold necklaces and bracelets they put on him shone with sunlight and made him glow, a perfect contrast to the white finery he wore. The few freckles he had jumped out against the blush they’d swiped across his cheeks. Gently, he touched his lips. Usually, he didn’t put on lipstick when doing his make-up, but the combination of gloss and rose-petal red made his mouth look like temptation incarnate. An excited giggle bubbled out of him before he could help himself.
“You are some annoying, fickle things,” he said to the vines, words betrayed by the smile on his face. “But I have to admit, you have good taste.”
His mood lifted as he stepped away from the vanity, and he allowed himself to relax a little. Yes, the vines were kinda weird, and a bit creepy, but they didn’t seem malicious, per se. And frankly, looking around the tower, he could’ve scored way worse in terms of imprisonment. A sense of excitement bloomed in Roman’s chest as he observed the romantic decor that surrounded him, and he twirled across the room.
He settled upon the nook near a circular stained glass panel. Fluffed with pillows and blankets, it was very comfortable. Probably a good spot to read. Roman touched the window, arranged in different panels of red and pink to form a rose. He grinned.
Though it shifted into a frown as he remembered what he’d been doing before the whole tower business. Thomas had summoned him. Roman pulled his hand away. He shouldn’t be here dawdling — he was still trapped here, no matter the fancy makeover — he needed to find a way out, and soon. Granted, Thomas could’ve called him for whatever reason, but he’d summoned Roman so little in the past few weeks, anxiety about him being in trouble plagued Roman anyway.
But it’s not like he didn’t try to leave! The tower seemed stubborn in keeping him here, with its escape-proof structure and attentive vines as guards. Roman sighed. Unless a knight in shining armor decided to show up for rescue, it seemed like he was well and truly stuck.
Roman wrapped a blanket around himself, furrowing his brow. He wouldn’t be able to escape immediately, no, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t figure a way out. He needed to bide his time. Gather intel, if you will. And if getting in the vines’ good graces would help, he’d do it.
It wasn’t like it was a chore. He could have a little fun with this whole fairytale thing, maybe it’d give him some inspiration, for once. And maybe it was a convenient excuse to avoid the others for a little bit, get his mind off the mess that his life had become.
Roman was such a coward.
The other sides would likely think he was off adventuring. He’s gone questing on the imagination for days on end before. They probably wouldn’t mind too much.
Before he could dwell on that any further, Roman felt a poke at his side, when he turned a platter was pushed to his lap.
“Hm?” Roman eyed it curiously. It held a couple biscuits, a croissant, and what he assumed was tea, given the porcelain teacup, despite it being bright pink. “Thank… you?”
Roman wasn’t quite hungry, but a snack wouldn’t hurt. He took a bite of the biscuit and it crumbled into delicious jam in his mouth. Strawberry. It was divine. Seriously, Roman would even dare to say it rivaled Patton’s cookies, and that was a tall order. He hummed happily as he worked his way through the platter, though really, it was no work at all. Each sweet better than the last. Yes, this wasn’t bad at all.
Then he felt a push against the base of his spine, and he straightened up instinctively. The touch ceased. “Oh.”
It was unbecoming to slouch. He should be more mindful of his posture.