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Purpled sighed, his tail swishing nervously between his legs. He walked back and forth, the grass blades looking almost like they were curling around his shoes. All he had to do was answer Quackity, and it would all be over— but he wants more, doesn’t he?
The teen groaned and rubbed his eyes, his tiredness from the night before kicking in. He glanced at the Needle, his thoughts drifting from what had happened the other day.
It wouldn’t be wrong to accept the offer, right?
Plus, he didn’t have anywhere to go, anyhow.
But didn’t that happen because of Quackity?
But he could help but—
He should accept the offer. Just this once, at least. And if anything went wrong, he could just leave.
“This is fine, Purpled. All you have to do is go over there and shake his hand, right? Nothing bad could happen.” the hybrid whispered to himself as he paused his walking and glanced back at the Needle.
He thinned his lips and took a step forward, making his way to Las Nevadas. “No turning back now, anyway.”
—
The walk to the city wasn’t as bad as Purpled had thought. He only had to evade two creepers before he made it to the large welcoming sign.
The alien paused in front of the gravel as anxiety clawed at his throat. His tail hid between his legs, his elven ears almost seemingly dropping down. He almost wanted to lift his hoodie and hide in his jacket forever.
Purpled froze when he heard a shout.
“Remember the pit, Tommy!”
The alien raised an eyebrow and hid behind a tree. He held his breath when he heard a faint rustling.
“I can’t stand you pricks!” a voice shouted as the rustling got louder.
Purpled stilled, his fingers curled around his sword. His antennas turned slightly at the sound of footsteps as if they were warning him of the stranger. The hybrid slowly unsheathed his weapon as the figure grew closer.
Purpled flung out his sword as he shifted, the tip of the netherite almost hitting the stranger’s throat. The knife stopped short, and Purpled panted, keeping his sword at the throat of the figure.
The alien glanced up at the stranger, and his face shifted, his emotions dragging alongside and switching altogether.
It was a boy—a boy his age.
He had blond hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. Everything about him screamed dangerous, and Purpled found himself stirring his weight slightly, just in case he had to run.
The teen widened his eyes and said, “Whoa there—can’t you see I’m walking here, dickhead?”
Purpled sucked in a breath as anxiety clawed at his chest again, the feeling of unease dropping into his stomach. “Do I know you?” he asked.
“Do I know you?” the blond paused. “No, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your ugly ass face here before.”
“I’m Purpled.”
“Tommy.” the boy answered.
Purpled lowered his sword, his face contorted into visible wariness. He sheathed the weapon and backed a few steps back, the fear from before returning.
The hybrid swallowed a lump in his throat as Tommy rubbed at his neck.
“What’s up with you?” Purpled asked. “Why are you close to Las Nevadas?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes.
The hybrid tilted his head to the side and said, “Yes, I would like to know.”
“I–I knew that you just–that’s not–uh—” the blond stuttered out before coughing awkwardly. “I’m here with my br–friend. We kind of argued, and now I’m here.”
Purpled felt himself calm down, the tenseness in his shoulders softening. He didn’t know why he even felt scared; Tommy was just a teenager.
“What about you, though? Why are you going to Big Q’s place?” Tommy asked as he started walking back towards the Needle. Purpled followed in suit.
“He kind of promised me something, you could say.”
“Promised? Quackity’s not one to make promises.”
Purpled huffed, his hand raking through his white hair, “It was more of an offer, I guess. He said that if I joined his country and all, he’d let me go home after he was done needing me.”
Tommy let out a laugh that didn’t sound too humorous. He stepped over a root. “I think he’s lying, idiot. He probably doesn’t even know where your—” the blond widened his eyes and paused his walking. “Wasn’t that blown up UFO yours?”
The alien stopped in his tracks and sighed. His tail paused its swishing and curled around one of his legs, his antennas turning at Tommy’s voice. “It was, yeah,” he said.
“Is Big Q gonna rebuild it or some shit?”
“No–he’s the–he’s the one that–uh–that blew it up.” Purpled scratched the back of his neck as he darted his eyes away from the other teen.
“What the fuck? He blew up your house” — Tommy clenched his fists and turned his head to the hybrid — “and then he proceeded to tell you to join him?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.”
“That’s—” the boy kicked a rock and growled, “That’s fucking messed–that’s fucked!”
The two stood in silence as the sun started to dip below the horizon. Oranges, pinks, yellows, and reds painted the sky. Birds chirped to one another, saying goodnight as if it were their last. If Purpled strained his ears, he was able to hear the groan of a zombie miles away.
Tommy was sitting on a fallen down log when the sun finally gave up for the day. His hair, messily wrapped in a short ponytail, glimmered slightly when the star shared its rays. His eyes were downcast, almost looking guilty as if he had kicked a puppy. His mouth was drawn virtually to a snarl-like frown, something Purpled thought made the boy look angry.
The alien wanted to confront him, tell him to go and see his friend or just go home so Purpled himself could go and see Quackity. But deep inside him, he realized he would feel guilty leaving him here, alone, in the night.
Purpled decided enough was enough. “Why don’t we go to Las Nevadas and find your friend?” he asked.
Tommy scowled and brushed away a strand of white hair from his eyes. “No,” he said. “I don’t want to see him.”
“It’s nighttime, though. Don’t you think he’s going to be worried?”
The blond glanced at the rising moon, the almost neon blue shade projecting onto his face. He looked down and folded his arms, his foot tapping on the dirt ground restlessly.
When Tommy didn’t answer, Purpled sighed and muttered, “Alright, I tried. But you’re the most stubborn child I’ve ever met.” he walked over to the teen and sat next to him, his tail curling around his waist.
Tommy jolted, eyes fierce. “I am not a child, you dick-bitch-thing!”
The hybrid let out a laugh, his white locks falling onto his glowing purple eyes. Tommy almost gasped at the sight. His companion’s antennas, irises, and the tips of his tail were glowing, almost like lavender lanterns. The blond felt himself curl more into his chest, the feeling of the appendages on his back making him queasy.
“Are you alright?”
Tommy glanced up, smiling softly. “Yeah, just–you’re glowing.” he breathed out, close to laughing.
The alien grinned, the moon’s light shining onto his face as he said, “Yeah! I do that a lot at night. ‘Got it from my family.”
“‘Your family’?”
Purpled cast a glance to the moon as he felt nostalgia build up in him. “Yeah. I used to have a family.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow and swatted away a pesky strand of white hair. “What happened to them?”
“They—” the white-haired teen stopped himself, his eyes still trained on the moon sadly.
The blond boy kept his eyebrow raised before he winced. “Oh–shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you—”
“They–they were murdered.” Purpled cut the other off, eyes heavy. “By a man. A horrible, horrible man. He was paid to destroy a city. It just so happened my family was going there for a–a vacation.”
Tommy frowned and looked down, his face solemn. “I’m sorry for your loss.” he said, then adding in, “Did you ever find who did it?”
Purpled nodded as his gaze went back to the other boy’s. He grimly stated, “His name–his name was The Angel of Death.”
Tommy’s face paled as he widened his eyes, his mouth opening to say, ‘that’s my dad!’ but no words came out.
The alien took note of his shock and quickly said, “Oh–did I say something wrong? Did” — his voice fell into a whisper — “did the god kill your family too?”
The blond teen felt himself flinch, and he vaguely realized he felt nauseous. His stomach was traipsing through a castle of guilt for something he didn’t do—
“Tommy? Tommy, are you there? Can you hear me, human?” Purpled asked, closer to the boy than wanted.
Tommy reeled back and suddenly said, “No.”
“No?”
“He didn’t kill my family.”
Purpled tilted his head to the side, aware of the way the other teen’s eyes were glazed over. “Then why are you scared of him?” he asked.
“Because—” Tommy felt tears well up in his eyes. “Because he’s my dad.”
The alien widened his eyes and stood, taking a few steps back from the teenager. “Your dad.” he breathed out. “Your dad is The Angel of Death—holy fuck!” Purpled’s tail went in between his legs as his ears drooped. “I just—I just talked–tried to kill– The Angel of Death’s son! Oh-my-Ender, I’m going to die.”
Tommy reached out his hand, his wings quivering underneath his clothing at the mention of his father. “Purpled—”
“What if he comes here? What if he—” the teen paused, his eyes darting to the blond. His eyes widened even more as his antennas seemed to stop glowing purple and switch to white, the drastic colour change causing Tommy to blink. “You’re his biological son—you–you’re a god. Oh, Ender, I talked to a god–there’s a god right in front of me oh—”
Purpled cut off into rambles, his antennas switching colours each second. Tommy stumbled off of the log, and he looked at the alien, his heart aching.
“Purpled–I’m not a god, alright?” he slowly said, hoping to calm the other down.
The hybrid’s gaze seemed almost feral, black inky tears welling in his eyes, his tail in between his legs, his elven ears drooping, and his look completely dishevelled. “But you–you still have god in you. You’re at least a–a half-blood or a demigod.”
Tommy sucked in a breath, and he let the dam break loose, allowing tears to stream down his face. He reached for his coat, the feeling of uncertainty clinging to his actions. The boy pulled the clothing over his head and threw it on the ground, revealing his buttoned-up white shirt.
It also revealed two large golden and gray wings.
“Look, I—” he choked on his own words. “I’m useless, alright? Not any–any more dangerous than a cloud.”
Purpled covered his mouth with his hands as a choked-up sob tried to escape. He gazed upon the boy’s wings, the top being of gold, the colour close to a yellow coin. The bottom tips, though, were the colour of ash.
The colour of Philza’s wings.
Except, these weren’t The Angel of Death’s wings because only one wing was intact. The other was torn, the bottom half of the wing gone and the stump bandaged with white. Purpled felt his heart break at the sight—he didn’t know what he would do if one of his antennas were torn off.
The alien’s tears fell onto the grass, the inky substance dissolving into nothing. He could faintly hear ringing in his ears, but he paid no mind to it as he stumbled over to the avian, arms wide open.
The two enveloped each other, Tommy’s wings protectively wrapping around them as Purpleds tail curled around the blond’s ankle.
Tommy sobbed into the white-haired boy’s shoulder, and Purpled clung to the other, eyes blank as his tears fell onto the blond’s shirt. There was an unspoken, ‘we should get going now,’ that passed through them.
The avian rubbed at his eyes, his hands still gripping the other’s hoodie as he said, “So, you–he did that, huh?”
Purpled looked up, his gaze casting on the bright full moon again. “Yes,” he said. “Two thousand years ago, he murdered my family.”
Tommy jolted, his eyes wide. “You’re” — he cleared his throat — “two thousand years old?”
“Well–more or less, yeah. I’m still mentally and physically seventeen, though. Because—”
“Immortals age slowly.” Tommy finished.
Purpled raised an eyebrow and pulled away from the hug, and his hands rested on the avian’s shoulders. “You’re immortal, too?”
Tommy grinned, laughing; he said, “More or less!”
The alien stifled a laugh as his antennas returned to their normal state. He tried to ignore the fact that his new friend was the son of his family’s murderer, which puzzled him, honestly. How had he been so lucky to be on the same server as him?
Tommy rolled his eyes and folded his wings, the feathers gleaming in the moonlight. They were stunning. The wings were coloured the exact tone as gold, and how the ash tips looked almost akin to that of a peacock, his wings were beautiful.
The blond raised an eyebrow at Purpleds staring. Then, he laughed and shrugged the alien’s hands off, saying, “Pretty, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” Purpled said, grinning. He caught a glance of the bandaged wing and furrowed his brows. “What happened to that wing?” he bluntly asked.
Tommy slightly widened his eyes, his irises giving off a surreal look. Then, he sighed and walked over to the rotting log again; sitting down on the wood, he said, “It was–it was some guy fifty years ago.”
The hybrid felt his tail curl around his ankles, a feeling of nausea overwhelming him. Crickets sang their song as a hiss of a creeper gave out. The moon shined over the two, highlighting their sombre faces.
Purpled swallowed a lump in his throat, and he gripped his hoodie sleeves, thankful for the grounding feeling of pain he got from it.
Tommy looked down. “He kind of found out about the whole Angel of Death son thing. And—” he grimaced and cast his gaze to the side. “We didn’t want people to find out about that, you know. Phil wanted me to be safe, so we pretended we didn’t even know each other in public. Now, even” — he laughed sadly — “we have to look like we hate each other. But, of course—sometimes I think he actually means it.”
The alien parted his lips slightly; an internal desire to sit next to the boy and comfort him overwashed him. He had heard, when he had gone out of his UFO once, that there was a hateful connection between two family members, but he had never thought it would be Tommy and his father.
Tommy sighed, his wings curling around himself as he continued his story, “Anyway—the guy decided that the only way to get Phil there was to…,”
Purpled furrowed his eyebrows before realization set in, and he widened his eyes. “Torture you,” he said, his antennas flashing white for a split second.
The avian shamefully curled into a ball, his golden-ash wings wrapping around his body. “I—” he hiccuped. “I should’ve stopped before I did that stupid shitty fucking call–but I didn’t, and he got hurt and—” Tommy was cut off when he was embraced in a hug again.
The blond teared up, and he gripped Purpled’s hoodie, his wings curling around both of them. Tommy let out a sob and sniffled, saying, “Please–I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be sobbing about some dumb story to a stranger.”
“Shut up,” Purpled said, tightening his grip. “We’re not strangers anymore.”
“What do you–you mean?”
The alien looked away, embarrassed. “Let’s—let’s be friends, please.”
It was as if time stopped. The crickets stopped chirping, the wind paused its breathing, and the moon looked duller than ever.
Tommy sucked in a breath, ignoring the way his tears fell onto Purpled’s hoodie. He had never had someone ask him that question in a long, long, long time.
“You want” — the blond coughed, his throat sore — “to be my friend?”
“Yes,” the alien hybrid said, confidence wavering in his tone.
Tommy teared up again as he gripped tighter. “You–you want to be my friend,” he repeated.
Purpled pulled back from the hug confusedly. “I just said that yeah.”
The blond let out a sob, and the alien jolted, his tail spiking up slightly. “Why are you–did I say something wrong?”
Tommy sniffled and wiped at his tears. “No.” he let out a wet laugh. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Why—”
“I want—” Tommy grinned. “I want to be your friend, too, Purpled.”