Chương 67: 66. I Want A Piña Colada

"Welcome greeting: this unit's designation is Joy is Reality, Queen of the Council of Bliss. Your passage through our domain has been provisionally granted on the following conditions: detailed explanation of purpose, justification for the presence of Failure, and delivery of due tribute to Bliss."

"Greeting reciprocated. Greeting appreciated," Blossom responds.

"Conditions acceptable with the following addendums: tribute to Bliss will be presented with duration not exceeding a singular light cycle, due to the urgency of our business."

"Regret. Agreement," the Queen says.

"Agreement," an Angel concurs.

"Agreement."

"Agreement."

"Disagreement."

"Agreement."

"Agreement."

"Majority reached. Conditions accepted. Welcome, A Blossom of Wilted Chances and companions. Justify your Failure."

"Why are we just floating here?" Peter whispers, which… right, yeah. The mostly human among us have no idea what's going on. Surely they can at least tell we've stopped right in front of the Queen's domain, though? We're practically touching it.

"Blossom is finishing up negotiations for our passage," I explain.

"Oh," Peter says, idly writhing a bit in the water.

"How's it going?"

"Decent," I say.

"It sounds like they're expecting us to be here for at least a day, but this domain is so huge it would have taken us at least that long to go around it anyway. They're also very mad about Emily."

"What?" Emily protests, tensing up on my back.

"What the heck did I do?"

"Nothing beyond having a shitty god," I answer.

"Bliss and Failure don't like each other."

"Possibility and Failure, too," Blossom says.

"But I manage to put up with you, so Bliss will also."

"The fuck?" Emily asks.

"I literally haven't done anything to you."

"Don't take it too personally," I assure Emily, patting her thigh with a tentacle.

"Blossom's just traumatized."

"Deploying new vocabulary: HYPOCRITE!" Blossom snaps at me as she returns to the conversation with the Bliss colony.

"Justification: issue is of relevance to all gods, even the most foul. Additionally, the chosen in question is devoid of council. If they attempt hostilities, they will be swiftly and easily silenced."

"Acknowledged. Detail purpose," the council sends back.

"There are natives to this world capable of receiving blessings," Blossom explains.

"However, they are mute and deaf, and most frighteningly of all, the Grand Queen's designs fail to preserve them when they are granted a reverent form. Evidence: listen to the words of A Prism of Refracting Selves."

"Evidence accepted. Oppressive horror. Lament. Despair. Confusion," the Council of Bliss cries. An expected response to Maria, really.

"It is thus our mission to bring this chosen of Legion to our Queen, who has updated and refined the Grand Queen's designs with Possibility's blessing and assistance from chosen natives. In the Grand Queen's absence, this duty falls to the chosen of the first. A solution will be codified and distributed to all Queens who will accept it, upon proof of success."

"We wish great blessings upon you," Joy is Reality responds.

"Your journey will not be unduly delayed. However, tribute remains demanded. Itinerary sent."

"Received," Blossom acknowledges, and the two of us quickly parse through the instructions we just got on where to take everyone. Somewhat predictably, we're being directed to the island… or I guess more accurately, the top of the Queen's body.

"Hold on one second," I say out loud, mostly for everyone else's benefit.

"What exactly is this 'tribute' they're demanding from all of us?"

"It nothing bad," Blossom shrugs.

"It Bliss colony. They want make us happy before we leave."

"Their demanded tribute is… the opportunity to make us happy?" I ask. I… I guess that makes sense, yeah. You venerate Bliss through, well, bliss. If they want us all to worship their god, how else would they do it?

"Told you that you hate it," Blossom smirks.

"Now onward, steed!" I buck her off into the water, causing her to hoot with laughter and teleport right back onto my back. Grumbling to myself, I swim toward the Queen of Bliss, the others mostly quiet as they take everything in.

"This is so surreal," Emily says as we pass into the Queen's domain.

"I can't believe we're doing this on purpose."

"We did this once before, but we were getting chased by Agnus Dei at the time," Peter says, his head the only part of him above water as the rest undulates rapidly behind him to keep pace with me.

"So without mortal panic fueling the trip… yeah. This feels wrong."

"Honestly, I'm surprised they didn't demand to know what Peter was doing here, too," I say.

"Bliss doesn't like Perfection either, right?"

"It less of an issue for them," Blossom explains.

"Most gods feud with Perfection because history, not ideology. Perfection try to make heaven. Gods all get mad."

"Wait, what?" Christine asks.

"A god tried to make a happy afterlife, and all the other gods teamed up to kick their ass? Doesn't that make them the bad guys here?"

"Ehhh… not saying right," Blossom hedges.

"I am not referring to a realm one goes to after death. It was a world designed to attract all of my kind via attending to our every need and removing all suffering and strife, with the ultimate goal of controlling all living things and denying all other gods of future chosen."

"Utopia," I translate.

"Perfection tried to create a false utopia to serve its own ends and take over the world."

"Oooh," Christine nods.

"Okay, yeah. Classic villain shit."

"That why all gods still mad at Perfection," Blossom confirms.

"Bliss less so, but still joined pact with other gods. Even Blasphemy join. Only Contradiction stay out, because Contradiction could not join covenant of all other gods without denying own nature."

"Interesting," Peter says.

"Honestly, I can respect my god's gumption for that. If the world is in reach, you gotta make a grab at it."

"This why you chosen by god of asshole," Blossom accuses, shaking a finger at Peter.

"Guilty as charged," he admits smugly.

"I still don't get why I was chosen by the god of Division, of all random shit," Christine comments.

"It's not like I enjoy cutting people up."

"That not all of Division," Blossom says.

"Not most of Division. It not just breaking. It… eh…" She prods me to open myself more to the network and sends me a dump of information once I do. Woah. That's a lot to process here, uh… how do I translate this?

"…It's also about categorization," I say.

"Taking large groups and making them into smaller groups. You can physically divide things, but you can also have divisions of things. It's as conceptual as it is physical. If you take large problems and break them into smaller problems, for example. Or if you even just understand larger things as collections of smaller parts."

"Like what my power does," Christine hums.

"I guess my power is pretty cool. I've gotten pretty used to… having the extra sense, I guess? The constant understanding of the structure and composition of everything around me felt overwhelming at first, but now it's kind of relaxing. If something is too big for me, I can just make it smaller. Which… yeah, alright. Shit, actually, it's a little scary how well that explanation fits." Blossom nods.

"Gods guide through blessings they grant and dreams they bestow," she says.

"You receptive to these things, because if you not, then Division would not have fallen in love with you enough to give blessing at all."

"…Uh. Wait, that sounds creepy, actually," Christine says.

"Is Division like, mind controlling me into liking their whole deal more?"

"Eh. Julietta, what is chicken thought?"

"Huh?" I blink with about thirteen eyes.

"Oh, the chicken or the egg. Blossom is positing that there's little practical difference between a god choosing you because you were already the type of person to agree with them and you agreeing with them because of the consequences of being chosen."

"Those sound like two completely different things to me," Emily says.

"You basically said that the gods directly influence our thoughts through our dreams. That's like, mind control."

"There no control," Blossom insists, staring firmly at Emily.

"Only conversation. Gods meddle, but not choose. They influence, they observe, but they are what are and nothing else. They already reflected in all their chosen before they choose. They could not choose you if this not true. This how I know I never trust you."

"Blossom, please," I sigh.

"I be nice for you, Julietta," Blossom says.

"But your sister rotten. Spread seeds of Failure to cling to own success. It what she is."

"Okay, I'm definitely adding 'bigotry' to the list of concepts alien society desperately needs to be introduced to," I grumble.

"Even if you are right, people aren't set in stone. At least allow the possibility for them to surprise you." Blossom clicks her tongue but doesn't argue with me, silently conceding the point even though her heart really isn't in it. Both of us know she's more than a little traumatized about this particular topic in much the same way I'm traumatized in all the ways she's been helping me with, so we mutually agree to let it drop.

"…I have been trying," Emily insists softly, having not gotten that particular memo.

"But I won't say you're wrong."

"Emily, no," I insist.

"You're more than just a chosen of Failure. You make your own decisions."

"Yeah," she agrees.

"And I chose to murder Lia." Oh. Uh. Alright. Shit.

"Called it!" Peter declares.

"You shut the fuck up," I snap.

"Emily, you didn't murder anyone. I was there. Lia was killed by the Queen while we were busy trying to survive a Behemoth. There was nothing you could have done."

"I know you were there, Julietta," she says.

"So I know you remember that I pushed you. I shoved you directly into that Behemoth." That's… true. She did do that. She pushed me into the way of its blade and let it impale me.

"But that was exactly what I needed to figure out my power and save us both," I say.

"It worked. It's fine."

"God, you're always like this," Emily laughs.

"It's always about the results with you, never the method. You're ignoring the main point, Julietta. Pushing you caused you to let go of Lia. That killed her."

"Then that's my fault for letting go," I insist.

"Quit being a dumbass," Emily snaps.

"You know what my power is. You know I understood exactly what I was doing. And I did it anyway to save my own skin. It was conscious, deliberate, and one hundred percent my fault. I murdered my girlfriend. If you don't quit arguing with me about it, I'll punch you." Completely flaccid threat aside, I do shut up and accept that, at the very least, Emily acted with full knowledge of the consequences.

"…Were there any routes where she was actually likely to survive?" I ask.

"That depends on how you define 'likely,' I guess," Emily shrugs.

"They're not odds I wanted to bet on, but you probably would've."

"I'm not so sure I would've," I admit.

"If I had your powers, if I was panicking with a giant goddamn monster bearing down on me, I very well might have made the same choice. You know I can be cold, especially if it came down to a choice between Lia or you."

"No. Blossom's right," Emily says firmly.

"You wouldn't have. That's why I have my powers and why you have yours."

"I… genuinely don't know why you're so confident about that," I admit.

"I'm not that good of a person."

"You reorganized your entire life around me!" Emily bites out.

"Just because I asked! You impersonated the girl I murdered to save me, when you could have so easily said no, should have said no. The only fate you were saving me from was the one I was sending you to! Don't give me that bullshit about you being cold. You're so goddamn selfless it's painful. Do you even believe any of the shit you're saying about me not being a murderer, or are you just trying to make me feel better on nothing but reflex?" Well I, uh… shit.

The fact that I have to think about this absolutely means it was a reflex, doesn't it? What are my real opinions about all of this? Do I actually have any?

"Can people cool it on psychologically deconstructing me for like, one day?" I groan.

"I thought I had all my shit together just a month ago, and now it's bombshell after bombshell after bombshell. Yes, okay, I didn't really consider much beyond 'my sister is upset, and I don't want her to be.' Is that really so wrong?"

"When it means you try to brush off the girl I murdered as no big deal? Yes, Julietta, it is," Emily huffs.

"This is your fault, you know. When I just let myself be a slave to my own power, I could rationalize it way easier. Just the numbers, out of my hands! But no, your stupid ass had to break that for me, so now I just have to live with the fact that I'm a fucking monster. Great job making me feel better, sis. Really, fucking fantastic."

"Oh, shut up," Pink snaps, the first of the Marias to speak up in a good while. The demon on my back shifts and squirms with discomfort, but I hold her in place firmly so she won't fall off.

"Don't be a murderer and a bitch, Emily." Emily just responds with a wordless scream of frustration, muffled by both her hands being placed firmly on her face. This is starting to get out of control.

"Okay everyone, this is clearly a conversation we need to have, but now is not a good time for it," I declare.

"We're about to deal with an alien colony, and they'll probably want all of us to participate. Let's take a bit to prepare for whatever the hell that's going to be. What should we be expecting here, Blossom?" She shrugs.

"Different for different councils," she says.

"It odd no one come to greet us closeby." Hmm. That is weird, isn't it? None of the councilmembers have approached us, we were just told to head for the Queen's body.

"Is that a bad sign?" I ask. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"No, dummy," Blossom says.

"There no 'bad signs.' We safe or not safe, and we safe." …Right, yeah. Blossom and the Queen reached a reasonable agreement, and both parties have every intention to uphold it. There aren't going to be any hidden tricks or dangers. That's not how any of this works.

"Assertion: we should get you back to the colony," Blossom says, prodding at one of my tentacles.

"Being around all these humans is making your head tumble around like a burning warrior in a whirlpool."

"I think it's the clash between you and them, more than anything," I say.

"I can't talk to them the way I do with you, but I can't talk to you the way I do with them. Not even with you learning to speak our language. Whenever I start to get used to one, the other catches me off-guard again."

"Frank assessment: it is clear which of the two is the superior method of communication, is it not?" Blossom challenges.

"A Prism of Refracting Selves gives much hope that we can fix your species' sad obsession with falsehoods yet." Thorns grow from the tentacles holding Blossom's legs.

"…Don't talk about 'fixing' my people," I order.

"It is not your place to decide that for them." I'm about to remind her of the countless horrors my people have committed in the name of 'fixing' each other when she cuts me off with a firm interruption.

"Acknowledgement. Agreement. Cease, Twisting Scars Reshape Fate. Do not speak of that here." Oh. Right. I'm supposed to be quiet so as to not upset the Bliss worshippers. I return agreement and pull back from the network again, feeling mixed emotions about the whole thing. It's kind of hypocritical for her to judge humanity for falsehoods and then demand I withhold information from… if not allies, then at least friendly neutral parties.

On the other hand, withholding information and directly lying are two different things, especially in alien culture. Whatever. Blossom is right. The important thing is to get through their territory quick and unscathed. And now, we're finally here. I drag myself up onto the spongy 'shore' and ensure everyone on my back has solid footing before shifting back into a more land-based body, in this case, a variation on the mostly-humanoid form I've been adopting lately.

Christine, Emily, and Blossom all find their footing fairly easily, while the Marias help each other get situated. Now it's time for the sea monsters. Peter, for his part, needs no encouragement. He flops up onto the Queen's body pretty much immediately.

"Okay, I'm done. Get me out of this goddamn organic straightjacket," he demands.

"You could have asked at any time," I remind him, compressing and pulling him back into a humanoid body.

"Unngh. That would be admitting defeat," he insists.

"You use weird ass bodies all the time, and it's not a big deal to you."

"My powers shift my instincts as well as my body," I remind him.

"They don't feel as weird when I'm in them."

"Well then if I can handle it, that just proves I'm better than you, right?" he asks, standing up and wiping himself off.

"Where the hell is my dick?" I roll my eyes, barf up the container we stored his clothes in, and toss it at him. He catches it.

"Get dressed first, and I'll give it back," I tell him.

"Ana, hon, you gotta get out of the water!"

"Why!?" she demands petulantly, splashing around.

"We're just gonna be swimming more after this, right? And we're supposed to be happy here! I'm having fun!"

"I don't want you to get separated from us, Ana," I tell her.

"I'll watch her," Pink volunteers, flittering up to me.

"Yellow and Blue have our body handled."

"You sure?" I ask.

"I could use some time away from everyone else," Pink admits.

"I've gotten more used to being alone than I expected, I think." I… oh. I should… what would a good partner do in a situation like this? What should I say? Or is this one of those situations where there is nothing good to say? Ugh. It is, isn't it? I hate those. Keeping my mouth shut, I shrink down into a body her size, fly up, and pull her into a hug. Pink stiffens, but returns the embrace after a moment.

"…I'm still mad at you, you know," she says.

"I don't blame you," I answer.

"I know," she sighs, pulling away.

"I'll flash extra bright if we need anything, alright? And three quick flashes if it's an emergency."

"Got it," I smile, appreciating the forethought.

"Thank you, Maria."

"That barely feels like my name anymore," she admits.

"But you're welcome." I pull her in for one last quick hug before shifting back to my usual size and walking inland toward the others. The ground is… a bit disturbingly soft, but it's not clammy or unpleasant to walk on. It's almost like walking on silk: such a perfectly smooth and luxurious texture that I almost want to squish and grip with my toes if not for the fact that part of me is always aware that I am standing on an entire ass person and that would be kind of creepy.

I am curious about how she managed to grow an epidermis this soft, though. I am usually not one for extreme textures of any sort, but I have been… recently learning to appreciate certain kinds of softness. My hug with Pink just now comes to mind. I wouldn't hate knowing how to make something like this, but I don't want to be rude, so I prod at the Queen with my domain in a questioning manner, asking for permission.

Almost immediately, she offers synchronicity and lets me in completely, allowing me to pick up the structure of her nearby body parts without any issue. Huh! That's… quite the show of trust. I reach out and poke Blossom with my domain as well, finding that she has actually accepted the Queen's offer of synchronicity, and done the same. Well, I guess if Blossom trusts the Queen that much, it's not a big deal. I let her in, her warm, happy domain settling over me like a blanket fresh out of the dryer.

"Julietta! Hello," Blossom waves me over. She's standing next to a pretty large hole, which I investigate with my domain to find a pretty huge tunnel system permeating the Queen's entire body, workers and warriors moving about within like ants in a hive. Woah. She's not just the size of a skyscraper, she basically is a skyscraper.

"…She doesn't want us to hop down in there, does she?" I ask Blossom, which gets her to laugh.

"I go," she assures me.

"Rest of you can stay. I be back when done."

"What are you gonna be doing in there?" I ask. She grins wide, and in an instant all of her clothes vanish from her body, appearing in a wadded-up ball in her hand. She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"Diplomacy!" she declares, tossing her former outfit at my head and leaping down into the flesh hole with a manic cackle. I'm so stunned by the whole display that the laundry ball smacks me dead in the face, hanging comically for a moment like pie in an old comedy routine before falling down into my arms. Is she really…?

I open myself briefly up to the network again, get a bit overwhelmed by the ecstatic excitement of basically the entire colony (and Blossom herself) and decide to promptly close myself back off again. Yep, she definitely is. I do not want to be listening in on that.

"Hey! No one told me I'd be missing out on an alien orgy!" Peter complains.

"Oh my god," Christine mutters to herself, her and Emily both blushing hard enough that their faces look like bruises.

"I… I don't think that's really the right word to describe it," I manage.

"Aliens literally do not have any concept of sex. It's not like they can meaningfully participate, but… well, I guess this is going to be extra exciting for them because it's completely new." I genuinely can't deny the effectiveness of Blossom's strategy, and… well, it's not like she's had any time away from me to do any of this, even though she was so excited about it. I should have expected this to happen eventually. But also, just… what Christine said. Oh my god.

"…Well, at the end of the day, it's her business, not ours," I conclude.

"The rest of us should just… try to find good ways to pass the time, I guess. I don't think Bliss is picky about the kind of happiness we feel."

"…Well, it's pretty nice out," Emily says.

"If we're gonna be at a creepy alien beach all day, wanna do some creepy alien sunbathing, Christine? A tan would look good on your fresh new skin."

"Oh, uh… sure!" Christine agrees.

"That sounds nice, actually. Though we'll need—uh." She cuts herself off, all of us falling silent at the same time as a pair of beach lounge chairs suddenly appear next to the two of them.

"Wh… what?" Emily blinks.

"Oh hell yes," Peter grins.

"I want a piña colada!" He holds out his hand and a cold glass of opaque yellowish liquid appears in it, a wedge of pineapple sticking into the rim.

"Do not drink that," I snap as he brings it to his mouth.

"Everybody stop."

"You are such a buzzkill," Peter groans, though at least he doesn't drink the magical alcohol like a complete fucking dumbass.

"Christine?" I ask, turning to her.

"I… I think it's real?" she says.

"Like, it's definitely physical. I can…" One of the chairs blooms outwards, breaking apart into all its individual pieces at Christine's behest. She prods them a bit, then puts the chair back together. Peter's drink explodes next.

"Hey!" Peter protests, but Christine just pushes him aside and approaches the globs of several different liquids floating in the air. She watches them carefully, pulling one apart into water and several different powders. She reaches up, collects a bit on the end of her finger, gives me a glance for confirmation, and licks it.

"…Sugar," she concludes.

"There's something a little off about it, but it's definitely sugar."

"It's not poisoning you," I report, my own powers letting me keep clear track of the chemicals once they dissolve into her saliva, get partly absorbed into her bloodstream, and head toward her stomach. There's absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happening. Christine dabs one of the liquids with her finger and licks it, too.

"…Lime juice," she reports, before tasting another.

"Pineapple. And this one is… ugh, blegh. Definitely something alcoholic."

"That's rum, thank you," Peter scoffs.

"And that white one is coconut. It's like you've never even had a piña colada before."

"I'm underage," Christine reminds him.

"You're underage!"

"And you expected that to stop me why, exactly?" he asks.

"Now put my drink back together and let me get wasted."

"You want to get 'wasted' on piña coladas?" Emily asks.

"Really?"

"You sound pretty judgmental for the human personification of curling up on the couch and chugging a wine out of a box," Peter fires back.

"Anyway, a chair for me as well, please."

"I am still not one hundred percent sold on the 'let's drink things summoned by an alien Queen's powers' plan," I remind everyone.

"You've been getting your freak on for months trying to make us more comfortable with aliens, and now you're worried because one was nice enough to give me free booze?" Peter asks.

"I bet you're just mad because your murderous alien girlfriend is cheating on you with the local Queen." I grow two more arms so I can flip him off four times, which he unfortunately finds delightful.

"For what it's worth, I definitely would have said something if any of this was going to kill us," Emily reminds me.

"But it's like you said earlier. The thing we should be doing right now is having a good time. It's what the aliens want, and we're trying to make them happy, right?"

"Fine," I grumble.

"Drink the damn thing, I don't care. Just don't expect me to fix you when your magical alcohol gives you a magical hangover."

"Clearly, I will simply use the awesome wish-granting domain to fix it," Peter says smugly, hopping back into his newly summoned lounge chair.

"Speaking of, magical domain, make Julietta stop being such a killjoy!"

"I don't think it works like that," I say, crossing my arms. It feels a bit weird with two pairs instead of one.

"Teleport her away so she quits bitching at me!" Peter requests.

"Nope," I say, not even feeling the domain try to accomplish that.

"It doesn't grant wishes. I'm pretty sure it just makes stuff."

"Oh, so like—" Peter begins, but all of a sudden there's a wall between us and I barely hear the muffled "this?" from the other side. …Which confirms my suspicion that it's not listening to us, either. The Queen can't understand English at all, it's probably reading our desires some other way. Like if I wanted… I don't know, a plain slice of bread? Oh. Yep. There's a slice of bread in my hand. Yeah, I still don't actually want to eat this. Definitely not a perfect system, is it?

"Julietta?" Hmm? I turn my head and spot Pink flying towards me, a mild panic rising in my chest.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, a hundred different possibilities whirling through my mind.

"You were watching Ana, right?"

"Oh! Yeah, everything's fine, I think?" she confirms.

"Weird stuff started popping up around us, but it seems to be helping our main body calm down more than anything. Blue took over watching Ana and chased me off." Ah. Well… great, I guess.

"The same thing has been happening here," I say, motioning to the wall next to me, which has since grown into an entire miniature hut. With a sunroof, of course. Christine and Emily have moved away to stay outside.

"Woah," Pink says.

"Yup," I agree.

"So why did Blue 'chase you off?'""…To make me talk to you," she admits, half glum and half irritated.

"I'm sure you've noticed I've been a little… distant lately." I've been doing my best to ignore it, but yes, I absolutely have. Pink was always the Maria most aggressive about starting a relationship with me, so coming back to find her being more angry at me than all the others was a bit jarring. But like, I deserve it, so I wasn't going to be entitled and make a big deal out of it.

"I figured it was best to give you space," I tell her.

"Thanks," she says. It's unexpectedly relieving to hear just that one word. It's about time I got something right again.

"I can't imagine how hard it must have been," I admit.

"You really can't," Pink agrees bluntly.

"Having to take care of part of myself that had essentially been reduced to a disabled child was way more than any of us were ready for. And normal kids can't have tantrums anywhere near that destructive."

"Yeah," I agree.

"If not for Peter, we never would have made the drive with our van intact."

"No kidding," she says.

"He's surprisingly reliable, for such an asshole."

"My thoughts exactly, honestly," I say.

"He cares, in his own messed-up way. I think leaving us behind way back at the incursion is tearing him up a little, even if he won't admit it."

"He's a jerk, but he's still human," Pink says.

"Of course he'd feel guilty."

"Yep," I say.

"But… I get the impression you're not here to talk about Peter?" I shrink down to her size again, flying up to her altitude only for a small perch to grow from the ground and offer us both a place to sit. Being more or less just a horizontal pole, like the kind you'd keep for a bird, it probably won't be comfortable forever, but it works well enough for now. I do my best to ignore the way Pink's butt squishes against it as she sits down. Geez, when did my friend group turn into a de facto nudist colony?

Is this my fault? It's probably my fault, somehow. I manage to tear my eyes upwards to look at her face, only to find her smirking at me. Gah. Caught. But… I guess she doesn't mind?

"Anyway, Blue more or less said that you've apologized more than enough times, and you clearly mean it, so I should suck it up and let it go already," Pink sighs.

"…But?" I prompt.

"No but," Pink says.

"She's right. We know how hard you've worked for us. We know the incursion wasn't your fault, even if you caused the Queen to drop early. And have a messed-up precognitive supervillain trying to fuck with you." Ah. Right. Them.

"Next time I see In-Joke, I am not letting them get away," I promise her.

"Even with their absurdly dense domain, I'm strong enough to take them now. I mean, Blossom's power literally lets her get a do-over whenever she messes up, and I beat that. I can handle someone who always knows the correct thing to do but still has to do it right the first time."

"We don't know for sure that's what their power does, do we?" Pink asks.

"Ultimately, it could be anything."

"Well… yeah," I admit.

"But we'll never beat them if we don't try. They shouldn't be able to overwhelm my domain with their own anymore, so no matter what their power actually is, it probably won't be able to outright kill me."

"Low bar, but fair," Pink grimaces.

"Best of luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it," I say.

"You're still mad at me, aren't you? Despite everything Blue said." She looks at me, a bit surprised, but she nods.

"…Yeah," she admits.

"Maybe it's irrational, but I can't bring myself to forgive you just like that. My body was taken from me, Julietta. I'm stuck like this now, maybe forever. Green is basically dead. And the whole colony that took care of us for a month is dead now too. I don't hate you. Hell, I probably still love you. But I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you." I sigh, a tightness in my shoulders I didn't know was there loosening the slightest bit.

"Honestly?" I say.

"It's so relieving to hear that."

"Oh?" Pink asks.

"Everyone has been giving me shit lately," I say.

"Just a constant storm of crap everything they think is wrong with me. It feels like everyone's mad. But you're the only one mad about the right things." She lets out a sharp laugh.

"You want me to be mad at you?" she asks.

"About this? Yes!" I insist.

"Blossom is mad at me for being too private, Emily is mad at me for being too nice, fucking In-Joke is mad at me for Possibility-knows-what, but you're the only one who's actually pissed at me because I fucked up! The only one who isn't trying to pick apart my personality and critique every little problem I have! You're just mad because I ruined your life, which for once is something I actually, unequivocally deserve! Yeah, I want you to be mad at me! Honestly, it's been a breath of fresh air after all this…

everything people are constantly pushing on me."

"Glad I could help, I guess," Pink says with a smirk, though at the exact same time I hear her say "Holy shit, you're even more of a piece of work than I was afraid of." The second voice overlaid with the first shocks me stiff for a moment, but then I realize it didn't come from Pink herself, it came from behind me. I turn my head to look back, and I see… … A second Pink? She's just… floating there, staring at us with a mix of confusion and shock.

Unlike every other Maria I've seen lately, this Pink is actually wearing clothes: a tiny cloth sundress and a wide-brimmed hat, the former flapping lightly at her ankles as the wind from her fast-beating wings stirs it up.

"Huh…?" I manage.

"I knew something weird was going on when you suddenly showed up and started actually trying to fix our relationship rather than mope around and pretend nothing happened," Pink (?) says.

"That, and you still had the same face halfway through the conversation."

"Holy shit," I swear, my brain slowly catching up with the conversation.

"So you're… she's…?"

"I'm pretty sure she's what you want me to be," the dress-wearing Pink says, flying down and sneering at us both.

"At least I know you think I'm attractive, I guess." Wh… but that…! Have I been talking to a figment of my own mind this whole time!?

"Don't worry, Julietta," the fake Pink smiles.

"I'm a fully independent entity. You are not insane." Holy fucking shit.

"Joy is Reality's power can make entire people?" I just about shriek.

"Yes!" fake Pink confirms.

"But since you find that horrifying, you can rest assured I'm a philosophical zombie incapable of experiencing suffering."

"…Were you one when the conversation started, or did you just become one after I found out you aren't real?" I ask.

"Discontinuity of consciousness club," the fake Pink says with a fake smile.

"It's best if you don't worry about that, Julietta."

"Uh-huh," the real Pink says, kicking her double off the perch. She falls the whole way to the ground and impacts with a soft thump rather than attempting to fly, and a normal-shaped chair forms underneath the real Pink before she sits down.

"Okay Julietta," she says, glaring at me.

"Since it's apparently on both of our minds, how about we actually talk about why I'm mad at you?" I have never been less prepared for a conversation in my life.

"Okay," I say anyway. It's not like it would be appropriate to say no. I'll navigate through the discussion somehow. It's what I do, right?