The Three Body Problem

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<<timed 4s t8n>> <<goto "Welcome" 3s t8n>> <</timed>>

<<set $witch to false>> <<set $jupiter to false>> <<set $scars to false>> <<set $scared to false>> <<set $burnednine to false>> <<set $jupiter_here to false>> <<set $collar to false>> <<set $safeword to false>> <<set $keepgoing to false>> <<set $panic to 0>> <<set $safeword to 0>> <<set $knife to 0>>

<center><h1>Content notes for:</h1></center> * Non-explicit portrayal of BDSM dynamics, negotiation of consent and boundaries * References to sex and various kink * Discussion of past abuse, captivity, and consent violation * Mention of murder and human sacrifice * Knives <center><a href="https://roannasylver.itch.io/">More Games On Itch.io</a> | <a href="https://patreon.com/roannasylver">RoAnna Sylver on Patreon</a></center>\ <center><h1>[[Begin|Begin]]</h1></center>

Your heart pounds almost as fast as your running feet, barefoot against the thick, damp grass. You can just barely see silvery edges of shrubs and rocks by the light of the half tree-hidden full moon, and your own faint glow. Your illumination spell is small and casually cast, a tiny white star held in your hand, but you almost don't need it. You know this path; you've walked and run it many times before. <<linkreplace "But this time, you're pursued." t8n>> But this time, you're pursued. You can feel the all-seeing eyes upon you, locked on, following always, no matter where you turn. You'll always be hunted, and always be watched. "Run as fast and as far as you like, little Starling." The voice seems to come from every tree all around you; it resonates in your head, making your hair stand on end and your breath catch ever more urgently. Even after every time you've run this path, after every wild and vital hunt, your blood sings and heart pounds, fittingly, like a bird's frenzied wings against not the dome of a cage but the open sky. "I'll find you. I'll always find you." <<linkreplace "It's a promise." t8n>>It's a promise. And like the moon herself, Jupiter never breaks their promises. The cool night air feels good against your burning skin and stinging lungs. The leather collar around your neck is secure, your feet and shins are refreshingly wet from the day's rain clinging to the grass, and all around you, you can hear wind whistling through the trees, and the calls of nocturnal animals all much more aware of you than you are of them. <<linkreplace "Something waits in your path up ahead." t8n>>Something waits in your path up ahead. Just a small distance away is a low, angular shape, much different from the rest of your forest surroundings. Its edges catch your faint light, and it seems to be drawing you in, pulling you steadily forward, impossible to resist. [[You approach the altar.|You approach it.]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

<<if $knife is 0>>You stop. Your heart feels as if it does, too. Suddenly your blood, which stung and sang with adrenaline just a moment ago, seems to freeze. A figure stands behind you, and a sharp little thrill races through your veins. <<linkreplace "But it's not who you expect." t8n>>But it's not who you expect. It's not the one following your every move on this dark, lush and verdant and desperately alive night. Sharp, freezing fear rips through your chest, as if you've been stabbed by the missing knife, which [[isn't so missing anymore.|Knife]]<</linkreplace>><</if>>\ \ <<if $knife is 1>>The silence between you stretches for a few long, tense, and increasingly awkward seconds. The haggard young man lit up by your wisp of starlight doesn't move, or speak. Maybe he can't; he's panting and there's an audible wheeze to his breaths, as if he's been running a long way, much farther and faster and more desperately than you. His T-shirt--of indeterminate color--and jeans are torn nearly to shreds, and an edge of fear shines sharp and clear in his gaunt, dirt-and-maybe-blood-smudged face. You fight the urge to take a step back, and hold your ground. You'd only back into the altar anyway, which is at perfect back-of-the-knee height, all the better to trip over backwards and land flat on your back, in front of an armed stranger. <<linkreplace "You finally find and untangle your tongue." t8n>>"Wh--" "Come on!" he shouts before you can finish the first word, voice strained and nearly breaking, before lunging forward. Faster than you can react, he grabs your wrist in the startling grip of one cold, grimy hand, and, with the knife in the other, starts to pull you away [[through the woods]].<</linkreplace>><</if>>

"It's okay, don't worry," the young man babbles as he pulls you through the dark forest. "I'll have you out of here in--in however long it takes us to get out of these woods. I think this is the right direction. Maybe!" It isn't, but you don't tell him that, even as he looks back at you for just a moment, eyes wide and terrified, <<linkreplace "and obviously confused that you're not." t8n>>and obviously confused that you're not. "Where are we going?" you ask instead, voice level, the kind of tone you'd use on a frightened deer, not a slavering predator. It seems to break through <<linkreplace "some of his clear panic." t8n>>some of his clear panic. "Away!" he cries, and it sounds almost like a sob. "Away from here, somewhere safe. Somewhere they'll never find us." "Who's 'they?'" you ask, slightly worried to hear the answer. Still, if anything dangerous lurked in these particular shadows, surely you would know? He stops and half-turns, giving you [[a wide-eyed, frightened look.|through the woods 2]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

<<set $witch to true>>People tend to underestimate you, thanks to your unassuming presence and the general consensus that you wouldn't (non-consensually) hurt a fly. But you've known your powers for years, as well as you know yourself. It's been years since you've had to hide them for fear of ostracization, abuse, or simply invoking fear in others. That has never been your goal or desire--but you're much more powerful than anyone looking at you would ever guess. And on nights like this, you feel even stronger. With the moon above you, so big and bright and close you feel as if you could reach out, pluck a real star from the sky, whisper your desires, and expect them to answer... there's nothing you can't do. Nobody is making you do anything you don't want to do. No one ever has. [[No one ever will.|keep going]]

<<set $jupiter to true>><<linkreplace "You named them your Dominus--" t8n>>You named them your Dominus--your protector, and you delight in the small wordplay. <<linkreplace "They named themself Jupiter--" t8n>>They named themself Jupiter--like the huge and wondrous planet that lights up your sky, with all the power of a raging storm, and all the tranquility of the cosmos, guardian of its many little moons. <<linkreplace "You named yourself Venus--" t8n>>You named yourself Venus--but that's not your only name. You're their Starling, their little star, their little bird, sometimes their faun when the mood and clock strikes. Around the time you fell in love with the forest's guardian, you realized they'd rather die themself than see you hurt. This whole forest is their dominion, under their spell, and nothing can hurt you in Jupiter's arms--the safest and most-loved place you know. You ache to be wrapped up in them right now, surrounded, held, until nothing frightening could ever reach you, because it no longer exists. There's only been one person in your life who hasn't either underestimated or feared you. Your Dominus has always seen you for who you are, and who you want to be. Jupiter has always helped you be who you want to be. You belong to Jupiter, Jupiter belongs to the stars, and this night belongs to you. [[But you can't see them right now. Only Nine.|YE2]] <</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

<<set $burnednine to true>>"Let me go," you say, calmly and inarguably. "I will, I promise! I just want to get us a little farther away from that thing, then you can--" <<linkreplace "He's not listening to you, so you stop listening to him." t8n>>He's not listening to you, so you stop listening to him. Instead, you shut your eyes and breathe in the night, soak up the moonlight like a flower spread open wide, reaching for every last daylight ray, and let yourself swim in the currents of magic flowing in eddies and rushes all around you. Soon, your heart is so full of raw, scintillating power that it starts to burn--<<linkreplace "and so does your skin." t8n>>and so does your skin. "Aahhhh!" he yelps as the wrist he holds flares with a shockingly sudden heat; it has to feel as if he's gripping a red-hot iron poker. He drops it immediately and scrambles away, clutching his hand instead of you, backing up so fast he only stops when his back hits a tree. [[You're free.|Goodbye Nine]] <</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

"Why are you doing this?" you ask as calmly and nonjudgementally as you can. "I told you, I'm saving you!" There's a thickness to his voice, a loud sniff; you don't need to see his face to know it's streaked with tears. "Stop--stop," you say, and to your surprise, he does. His crashing steps come to a halt, and he lets go of your wrist without hesitation, as if it never occurs to him that you might run away. When he turns, his eyes are as wet as you expect. "Thank you. Now...why do you think I was in danger?" "I was like you once," he explains, words falling out in a breathless rush. "They tried to sacrifice me too, they almost did, but I got away! I ran, and ran, and then I found you--about to be sacrificed too! And I'm not letting that happen to you! Never again, not ever!" <<linkreplace "You have many questions, but one small, almost absurdly normal one comes to mind." t8n>>You have many questions, but one small, almost absurdly normal one comes to mind. "What's your name? Mine's Venus. Like the planet--or the deity." "Like the what?" he asks, sounding once more bewildered. You feel a pang of alarm; what has this boy been through that he's missing this common knowledge? Even if it wasn't one of the most foundational parts of your life, it's unsettling. "Never mind," you say, deciding to stick to the basics, and the point. "Venus is a lot of things, but most of all, it's me. What about you?" "I don't have a name," he says, another most abnormal answer to your supposedly normal question. "But when they did talk to me... they called me Nine. Because if--if I hadn't escaped, I would've been their ninth sacrifice." <<linkreplace "Your mouth hangs open." t8n>>Your mouth hangs open. You can't quite remember how to breathe, or even blink; you feel like a landed and grounded fish, helpless on bone-dry earth. You can think of nothing to say back, nothing that would encapsulate enough horror, sympathy, and disbelief--not of his words, but that the world can be such a brutal and cruel place. A chill wind blows, forest canopy turning it to whispers and eerie wuthering. Then a pair of [[yellow eyes]] shine out at you from the darkness.<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

<<if $witch is false>>You continue through the woods, which seem to grow darker, thicker, less familiar, more forbidding. He's not gripping your wrist as tightly anymore, but seems just as compelled to put distance between the two of you and the altar. Still, all this may be alarming, but it's not terrifying just yet. After all, you're a powerful <<if $witch is true>>witch<</if>><<if $witch is false>>[[witch]],<</if>> and not at all defenseless.<</if>>\ \ <<if $witch is true>>But even without your magic, and all alone, you place pretty good odds on yourself versus an exhausted and half-starved boy in a fight. If you're tired of this, or feeling at all threatened, you could fairly easily [[try to escape]], and probably succeed. Probably because he'd never see it coming. This young man is clearly distressed to the point of terror, and you can tell by the quick, meant-to-be-reassuring glance and strained smile he throws your way, that he genuinely thinks he's helping you--when it seems to you that he's the one who needs help. [[Maybe the help he needs is you.|talk him down gently]]<</if>>

Twin eclipses shine down from above you, the bright golden irises nearly blotted out by huge, round, black pupils. No sound accompanies their appearance--owl feathers are deathly silent, even when you're not their prey--and you can barely make out the shape of wings and feathery 'horns' around them. But, of course, like many things in this forest, [[this owl is not what it seems.|Jupiter]]

"Just give me a minute," you say to the owl, and your Dominus, trying to sound in control and confident--and then trying to actually feel it. "I don't think he's going to hurt me. I think he needs help." "Yes, I can see that," Jupiter says dryly as Nine starts and aims a defensive knife-swipe at a small rustling of leaves. He only seems slightly reassured when the unconcerned squirrel emerges from the bush to zip happily on its way. "But must you be the one to give it?" "I'd like to try," you conclude with a small nod to yourself. "Don't come for me just yet. Give me a chance to talk to him." You feel more than hear Jupiter sigh, in the breaths of wind through the trees, in the silence that's fallen around you, <<linkreplace "as if every creature here holds its breath." t8n>>as if every creature here holds its breath. "All right. I trust you'll do whatever it takes to escape, if necessary--and you can trust that I'm still coming for you. I'll be there soon." The strange man still has a desperate grip on Jupiter's knife. It's the kind of thing that should terrify you--but it doesn't. That knife has never hurt anyone before, and it never will. "Don't worry," you say quietly. You don't need to actually speak out loud at all. Jupiter would hear even your weakest cry for help, wherever you are within the boundaries of these woods. "[[I'll tell you if I need help|safeword]]. I promise. Until then, trust me." "Always."<</linkreplace>>

<<set $witch to false>><<set $jupiter to false>><<set $scars to false>><<set $scared to false>><<set $panic to 0>><<set $safeword to 0>> <<set $knife to 0>><<set $burnednine to false>><<set $collar to false>><<set $jupiter_here to false>><<set $keepgoing to false>>\ <center><h1>Thank you so much for playing THE THREE-BODY PROBLEM!</h1></center> I hope you enjoyed this small exploration of relationship dynamics and consent importance, featuring queer forest witches. If you'd like to play again, [[click here!|Begin]] And if you liked this game, I've got <a href = "itch.io.roannasylver">more games--and books!--on Itch.io!</a> Also, if you want to support me in making more weird queer games, books, art, and a ton of other cool stuff the world needs more of--and score early/bonus content--subscribe to <a href="https://www.Patreon.com/RoAnnaSylver">my Patreon!</a> You can also <a href="https://www.subscribepage.com/u1v4f6">join my mailing list here</a> to stay up to date on all of the above, and the occasional exclusive giveaway... AND get <a href="https://roannasylver.itch.io/date-the-lizard">another Twine game for completely free!</a> (Have you ever wanted to date a soft lizard boy?) Thank you again! <3 ~ RoAnna Sylver

<<if $collar is false>>"This really could be dangerous in the wrong hands," you say, securing the knife up one of your flowing sleeves. Then you pause, and soften your tone. Nine still looks shocked, but not as horrified as he had a moment ago. "But it isn't." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I know how to use it, and so does Jupiter. They have...very steady hands." "Huh," he says, not sounding completely convinced or comprehending, but not arguing either. You don't explain; telling him the entire truth about the knife--about the transcendent fire its precisely-controlled point can trail across your skin, how great the gift of your trust is, even as the edge of that blade is pressed against your throat, how sometimes you forget to breathe but remember who you really are--may be a bit much for him, at least at the moment, when he's barely accepted he's not going to die tonight. Still, with the knife no longer marked as a threat to either of you, Nine seems to have <<linkreplace "calmed down a great deal." t8n>>calmed down a great deal. "So, okay, forget the knife," he says, hesitating and clearly suspicious as an easily-spooked, but curious deer. "But what about that? Why would you wear that unless you were a prisoner or something?" He points at the black leather collar around your neck, the metal loop hanging from it, and [[the shining padlock.|collar]]<</linkreplace>><</if>>\ \ \<<if $collar is true>>He turns and looks around the woods surrounding you as if he's seeing them for the first time. The moon shines down on you as she always does. Above, through an opening in the thick tree canopy, you can see the full moon riding high and bright amongst the clear stars. As another soft breeze whispers past you, it's easy to imagine the same wind gently pushing the feather-light and buoyent moon across the endless celestial sea. You can also sense Jupiter nearby. They could've been here already. The only reason they aren't is that you told them to wait, and they listened, as they always do. Still, you could give it up, and speak the word that will [[end all of this without question|Goodbye Nine]]. Or you could [[stay with Nine]] a while longer. Now that he's actually talking, you might learn something.<</if>>

Then something unexpected happens. <<linkreplace "Nine starts to laugh." t8n>>Nine starts to laugh. It's a nice sound, surprisingly bright, even if it still rings with anxiety instead of true amusement. It's one of those exhausted, half self-deprecating, half absurdist laughs that comes from being pushed beyond your limits into a place of surrender, where your only hope left is that surrender won't be as bad or final as it seems. "Okay," he says, giggling only faintly hysterical as he holds up his hands again in a now-familiar gesture that speaks even more of submission than his general demeanor, but not the welcome and healing kind you know. "Okay, okay, okay, fine, you got me, I give up. This is your home turf, I'm the party crasher, and everything you've said so far's been true... however nuts it sounds. You got me. I'm listening." You listen as well, and you believe him. Nine has still plainly been through all kinds of hell, and his trust is fragile and hard-won, but he seems just a little more willing to give it. <<linkreplace "It's enough to make you begin to hope." t8n>>It's enough to make you begin to hope. "I'm sorry for scaring you," he says, giggle fading as he looks at the ground. "And I'm sorry for taking you away from your home. But I had to! I had to do something, I couldn't just stand there when I saw you, ready to be--hurt. Worse than hurt. Sacrificed..." "Symbolically," you say gently. "What?" he asks, looking up and brushing aside some of his scraggly hair. "The hunt is mostly symbolic. I run through the woods, Jupiter hunts and catches me, there's a knife, it touches my skin, there's...sexual ignition, and there's definitely a climax magic spike. It can be very intense. It might even look violent from the outside, but I'm never actually hurt," you assure him. "And I definitely never die. It makes me feel more alive than anything else. The sacrifice is a ritual only, and it might come with a knife, but--in our case--it usually doesn't involve blood." "But some do involve blood," he says bitterly, hugging his arms close to his chest again as if he's been chilled by a sharp winter breeze on the balmy summer night. "I definitely saw that. Almost experienced it firsthand." "I know," you say, trying to walk the balance between comfort and honesty. "You shouldn't have. You didn't ask for it, and nobody asked you. There's power in blood freely given, and forcibly taken--but we only deal with the first part." [[Nine stares at you, clearly uncomprehending.|Questions]] <</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

<<if $scared is false>>All at once, and once again, you're not alone. The nearby underbrush rustles, and another looming animal shape emerges from the dark. But instead of a winged creature, this one walks on four enormous paws, claws almost as big and sharp as the owl's own talons. The wolf is huge, black fur shining like an onyx field of windswept grass, its bright yellow eyes flashing a reflective blue as they fall upon you, then shift away to fix Nine with a steely, too-human stare. "You, boy," Jupiter says, and Nine doesn't correct them. He doesn't startle this time either, watching the wolf with obvious fear, but not panic. Your Dominus' voice sounds somehow closer and fainter at the same time, more a whisper in your ear than a shout from every direction. Jupiter might be getting closer to where you are now, but you're nearing the edge of the woods, and their power has always <<linkreplace "stretched thin on your home's outskirts." t8n>>stretched thin on your home's outskirts. "I heard what you said. What that coven did to you--and what they almost did to you--was monstrous, evil, completely unacceptable. If they were here, they'd wish they weren't. I would make them wish they had never laid eyes or hands on you, or anyone else. They may not have hands--or other body parts--to hurt anyone with, by the time I finished. But that does not allow you to kidnap my submissive against our will. I do not allow you!" "I'm not being kidnapped yet," you remind them quietly, and the wolf's surprisingly soft-looking ears swivel partially in your direction, but its eyes remain locked on Nine. He meets the huge, silent beast's gaze without flinching, despite the sheen of cold sweat on his face. "Still, he has no right," Jupiter maintains, resolve as steady and cold as the wolf's eyes. "Nothing gives him--anyone!--the right to separate us like that. To take us away from each other with no warning, no choice. Nothing." There's no obvious change in their mental voice, but you know immediately. You'd always know, anywhere, in any time, in any life. [[Jupiter is scared]].<</linkreplace>><</if>>\ \ <<if $scared is true>>"I'm sorry," Nine whispers. "I wasn't... I was just..." The wolf doesn't so much as snarl or take a single step forward, but he still quails under its uncomfortably undivided attention, and falls silent. He and the wolf both wait await your decision. Somewhere, just beyond the treeline, so does Jupiter. You can feel it. You can feel them. As always, you hold the power to end this now. You could call out the safeword, send Nine away forever, and wait for your Dominus to [[come find you|Goodbye Nine]] and take you home. You wouldn't have to wait for long. But maybe there's something about Nine--his earnestness, his determination despite his obvious fear and pain, his willingness to listen even when your words are alien compared to everything he's ever known--that makes you want to listen. Maybe your mind has begun to change. Maybe it's enough to make you want to at least try to [[change Jupiter's mind]] as well.<</if>>

<<set $scared to true>>Your relationship is a symbiotic one. You're equals, no matter how it may look, or what other judgements outsiders may make. Jupiter adores, defends, and directs you, and you inspire, comfort, and delight them. Something about your presence seems to stabilize their influence over the woods, strengthen their voice and their power. Everything about theirs eases your mind and soothes your dreams. You brighten each others' lives, bringing light to a twisting forest path and a vast night that would otherwise be very deep indeed. When you're together, the darkness is comforting, the shadows home, and even knives feel like kisses. <<linkreplace "You've only left for a couple days at the longest." t8n>>You've only left for a couple days at the longest. Usually to get human-made supplies or visit your few trusted friends who don't reside here. Jupiter's never impeded or protested your leaving, but you've always had a plan before, known when you'd be back. And they were always so glad to see you return, like the sun had risen again after the longest night of their life. You need your Dominus, but Jupiter needs you, their dear little Starling, sweet celestial faun, just as much; there's no question of that. And Nine stands before you, exhausted, bloodied, and frightened. Right now you're not certain who [[needs you more|trying to help you]]<</linkreplace>>

"Nine's obviously a witch, like us, but even if he wasn't, he'd need help," you say, quite calmly and reasonably given the circumstances. "And even if he hadn't almost just been killed, do you remember what it was like being on your own? I do. I don't know if I'd be alive if you hadn't found me. Nobody should go through that, especially not if we can help him." "So, what then? You're just going to go with him?" An edge of clear fear enters Jupiter's voice in earnest, for the first time. You've rarely heard it before, and it chills your blood more than any shout or snarl ever could. "You know I... Venus. Love, I'm asking you, just please come home. Come back to me." You hesitate, and nobody breaks the silence. When Jupiter speaks again, there's no change to their tone, but you know without words that they're speaking directly to you. Nine can't hear them. No one can; their most vulnerable words are for you alone, <<linkreplace "as always." t8n>>as always. "If my Starling disappeared tonight, my sky would be empty. It would--it would eclipse my heart." <<linkreplace "And there it is." t8n>>And there it is. They have the power here same as you. If you were the one to say the word, they'd drop everything to make sure you were safe; you know this from the deepest reaches of your own aching heart. How can you refuse when they ask you like that? Like the world depends on your answer? "I'll come back," you promise, and mean it. Nothing could keep you away. "I'll always come back to you." The wolf stares directly into your eyes as if to confirm, a strangely human expression, somehow urgent and wistful at the same time, in its own. <<linkreplace "Then it's gone." t8n>>Then it's gone. You're alone with Nine again. And again, the choice is yours. You could walk away on your own, end this now, listen when your sweet Jupiter begs you to [[please come home.|Goodbye Nine]] Nine wouldn't stop you now, you're certain. Or you could stay with him, just a little longer. At least to say goodbye properly, but maybe not even that. Something tells you that you're not done here, that this isn't the way you want this strange night to end. But whatever you decide, you'd better do it quickly. The presence of Jupiter's mind against yours is fading. You're getting out of range, and this will be your last chance if you want [[Nine to stay|out of range]].<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

You're almost to the edge of Jupiter's woods--your woods. Just a few steps further and you'll be out of your sanctuary, thrust back into a world that doesn't understand you or even want to, and doesn't care if you're safe or warm or loved. But Jupiter's close. They're coming to find you, and you couldn't leave them even if you wanted to--because nothing you could ever find outside these woods would be worth inflicting that kind of pain on your Dominus, lover and friend. Disregarding their plea would be like crushing your own heart right along with them, leaving the both of you broken. But before you can even say anything, <<linkreplace "Nine stops walking." t8n>>Nine stops walking. "Listen... I'm sorry," he says, and you've never gotten the impression that he doesn't mean it. Nothing Nine's said to you has ever lacked the ring of truth, naked and raw. "I'll just go. I shouldn't have barged in where I wasn't invited. Sorry for ruining your night. Hope you can still have a nice ritual or whatever." "You're leaving now?" You blink at him in not-entirely-welcome surprise. "Yeah," he confirms, voice more resolute and eyes regaining some of the determination you'd seen burn in them the moment he grabbed your wrist for the first time. But nothing so desperate, or so frightened, <<linkreplace "not anymore." t8n>>not anymore. "I'm gone. I don't know where I'm going, but I'll figure it out, I have so far. You can totally still come with me... honestly, I'd love it if you did. But, now that I know you're not gonna die..." "I'm not," you say softly. "And I can't come with you. Jupiter needs me just as much as I need them. I can't leave, not this suddenly, not knowing where I'm going or when I'll be back." "I... understand," Nine says slowly, reluctantly, though you can tell it's also truthfully. He might not want to understand, but he does. "I get it now. Maybe you're right, and I was only seeing what I was afraid to see. But just 'cause I had a bad time--or a lot of bad times--doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong." "And do you believe me now?" you ask. "If I told you I was going home, where I'd be safe, and that I'd be safe on the way, you wouldn't try to stop me?" "No, I won't," Nine promises, looking at the ground. "And don't worry, you won't catch me around here again. I'll never bother either of you again, I swear." You believe him. He won't be any more trouble, and is probably too ashamed to even try ever again. <<linkreplace "He takes a step back." t8n>>He takes a step back. "Wait. Stay with me just for a minute," you say quickly. "I want Jupiter to at least meet you. And I want you to see them--I know I've told you I'm safe, but I want you to walk away seeing that, and believing it. I never want you to wonder if you've made the right choice tonight. I don't want this to be something that haunts you. I think you're haunted by too much already." Nine stops, hesitating, wide-eyed and breathless like someone caught on the edge of two disparate and mutually exclusive lives, someone lost in the space between two rooms, part of neither and wavering on the threshold. But there can be no lingering in liminal spaces like these. <<linkreplace "Eventually one has to pass through." t8n>>Eventually one has to pass through. Finally, he nods. A smile pulls at the corner of his pale, cracked lips. "Okay." And just as Nine crosses one threshold, the next makes itself known. Swiftly, and without cerermony--for once--[[Jupiter appears]]. <</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

"I'd love it if you stayed too," you say, and Nine lets out a little gasp. You're struck by the realization that he never expected to get this far. "We might not have met under the best circumstances... but I'd like to try again. I'd like to know you very much." "Then welcome, Nine." Jupiter pauses again, but this time neither of you worry. "You were named by--whom, the people who wanted to kill you? Well, that's no good. They don't count, and neither does that name." Nine's smile only grows. It's a lovely smile. "What would?" "I don't know. Some things you have to figure out for yourself." "I'm not really sure what to pick!" he looks at you as if for guidance, then back to Jupiter, practically vibrating with excitement instead of fear. "What is a name supposed to be?" "Something that means you. Failing that, something that comes close, something you like. It doesn't have to be fitting to anyone but you." You laugh softly. "As you might have guessed, we're big on celestial bodies here." Nine's eyes travel slowly up, away from you and toward the <<linkreplace "bright and constant moon." t8n>>bright and constant moon. "I have... what's probably a bad question." "The worst questions are the ones you don't ask," Jupiter says, and Nine nods in careful understanding. "Okay." He raises one dirty, blood-smeared hand, and points. "What's that?" "That's the moon. Its formal name is Luna." Jupiter smiles again, and your heart grows, rises, and aches at the same time, as it has so many times before. Each smile of theirs feels like the [[first one you've seen.|Finale]]<</linkreplace>>

<<set $jupiter_here to true>>Everybody expects the guardian of a forest to be a thin willow tree or a delicate sprite--a sparkling nymph like you--but what you get is so much better. Their face is as round and bright as the full moon and just as beautiful, their gray eyes like twin moons within. Their body matches, heavy and solid, comforting and smelling and feeling like home. You run to them and you're enveloped in their warm, fat arms and wonderful softness, both their body and the warm black cloak that curls around you like an embrace of wings. Jupiter kisses you with firm affection, murmurs soft words in your ear that you barely understand, only that you're together the way you're meant to be, only that you're safe, and loved. Then they place both your wrists behind your back, and very gently take hold. The moment you find yourself lovingly restrained--held, kept, claimed--every bit of tension melts away from your muscles, and your head spins, dizzy with relief. Then Jupiter falls silent, and you feel instead of see <<linkreplace "their attention shift." t8n>>their attention shift. "Hello, Nine," they say as they release your wrists, but keep one hand around your waist. They're not angry or frightened anymore, speaking in a voice almost as soft and sweet as the one they've just used for you. If it was anyone else, you'd be surprised, but nothing they do--no good thing, anyway--surprises you anymore. "Hi, Jupiter," he says, quietly but not as anxiously as before. It must help to see that they're a person with a guarded-but-kind face and a solid-but-not-threatening body, and not some intangible, eldritch natural force. "Have you adjusted your preconceptions?" Jupiter doesn't demand. They don't shout or rage or threaten. You've seen them with small forest beings, heard them speak like this to orphaned fox kits and deer snared by antler-catching vines. The woods can be nurturing as well as deadly, and so can they. "Yes," he says with a nod, then another. "I'm sorry for trying to take Venus. I'm sorry for jumping to the worst possible conclusion without knowing either of you. And I'm sorry for ruining your... special night." "There will be more special nights. Do you think all knives are dangerous?" "Not if they're in the right hands," Nine says, and you think you detect the hint of a blush in his wan cheeks under the grime. But it's dark, the light is faint, and you know better than to rely on first impressions. "Venus said you have...very steady hands." <<linkreplace "Jupiter hides many things." t8n>>Jupiter hides many things. Themself from the outside world, you from anyone without your best interests at heart. Sometimes, their feelings, even from you. They're certainly hiding their vulnerabilities and doubts from Nine right now. If you didn't know better, you'd never think a smile was among those hidden things. Fortunately, you do. "It's been us alone, all this time," Jupiter reflects, clearly amused as much as pensive, not bitter. "We're not isolated from everyone in the world, we've had friends and lovers, but they've been known, agreed upon. You were a surprise." Now they do smile, just a bit. Jupiter surveys Nine thoughtfully, and neither he nor you [[break the silence or their concentration.|Jupiter2]] <</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

The long, flat slab of black basalt, ringed with neatly-carved runes, sits in a quiet clearing far from city lights or engine noise. Far from anything, it seems, on nights like this. It's so quiet that it would be easy to forget anything loud or bright or confusing exists. A cool, gentle, rose-scented wind with the hint of summer rain brushes past, raising the hair on your arms in a tingling wave, and pulling at the sheer, flowing white fabric of your ceremonial robes. You've stood before this altar's familiar surface many times. <<linkreplace "Tonight, you'll lay across it." t8n>> Tonight, you'll lay across it. The knife will touch your skin, and your soul will touch infinity. (Is it strange, you wonder, for a sacrifice to feel so alive?) The knife... which has always been right here, in easy view and reach, every other night like this one. But it's not; nothing in its place but dark stone and a thin, shining film of lingering rain. This is not as it should be, you think with a furrow to your painted brow, stepping closer to look at the altar from another angle. As you do, you hear something behind you. You know before you turn that you're no longer alone. [[Your heart jumps once again.|Nine Appears]] <</linkreplace>>

<<set $safeword to true>>Like an emergency parachute or fire extinguisher, the two of you have something that makes you feel better knowing it's there, but you hope the need never arises to actually use it. <<linkreplace "Eclipse." t8n>>Eclipse. All you have to do is say the word "eclipse," and all of this will end on your command, immediately and owing nothing to anyone. You don't even have to scream it, or say it more than once. A whisper would be enough. <<linkreplace "You trust Jupiter completely." t8n>>You trust Jupiter completely. Your Dominus would stop the world to protect you. They'd stop its orbit around the sun to keep you safe, and never demand a justification or defense. You've even begun to trust moonless, eclipse-darkened nights. <<linkreplace "The owl gives you one last, long stare." t8n>>The owl gives you one last, long stare. It's almost as if its animal eyes are silently asking you right along with Jupiter's words to be sensible, be levelheaded, be careful. Then it flutters away. The two of you are alone--but you still have the sense of being watched by many, many pairs of eyes. And [[Nine still holds the knife.|doesn't like knife]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

"I don't think your... person likes me," Nine says in a small voice, and you can practically hear the chattering of his teeth as he shivers. "Jupiter. My Dominus," you say gently. "What's that?" "My partner. My protector. Literally, in Latin, my 'guardian.' So you can put that away," you say, giving the knife a nod. "It's not going to do you any good." "I'm not going to hurt you," he says, but lowers the blade, even though it was nowhere near you to begin with. "I know. I'm not the one I'm worried about." <<linkreplace "Nine almost looks offended, and you almost laugh." t8n>>Nine almost looks offended, and you almost laugh. "You're worried about me, so you want me to walk around in a terrifying forest without any protection?" "I do it all the time," you say, then amend the statement. "Actually, I just mean I walk around without a knife all the time. Nothing here is going to hurt me, and as long as you're with me, it won't hurt you either. If it lives here, it's my friend." You hold out your hand, palm up and relaxed. "And if you're really trying to save me, you'll give me the knife." Nine stares at you, frozen in place <<linkreplace "like a forest creature introduced to headlights for the first time in its life." t8n>>like a forest creature introduced to headlights for the first time in its life. Then, very slowly and carefully, he hands the knife to you, hilt first and point toward himself. "Thank you," you say sincerely, and he just gives a fast nod, wrapping his arms around his thin upper body and tucking his chin down into his chest. Now holding the knife along with the upper hand, you survey the young man before you who, now unarmed and thoroughly defenseless, has never looked younger. "You really think I'm in terrible danger, don't you?" "That's because you are!" "No." You shake your head and let out a soft laugh, running your finger along the blade's cool, sharp crescent-edge. "I told you, nothing is going to hurt me here. Not even this." Nine doesn't protest, but doesn't look convinced either. He's scared of the knife, [[that's for sure|calmer now]].<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

<<set $knife to 1>>The ritual knife is light, delicate, and polished to a mirror-bright shine. Its blade is slim and slightly curved; the shape of it reminds you of a graceful crescent moon, the kind that won't appear for weeks. You've seen it many times before, held it many times before. <<linkreplace "The only unfamiliar and frightening thing here is the one holding it." t8n>> The only unfamiliar and frightening thing here is the one holding it. A scrawny young man stands before you, all sharp angles and long, worryingly thin limbs, skin appearing as pale as clean white paper under your light-wisp, and the luminous, silvery moon that desaturates the world. Long, lank hair that may be blonde under all the matted grime, falls past his shoulders and partly into his face, which wears an almost-comical, exaggerated expression of wide-eyed (a fever-bright, watery blue) panic. His face is covered with a thin film of dirt, and darker stains that may be--but you hope and pray to be wrong--blood. He holds the knife in a shaking, white-knuckled fist like it's the most precious treasure he's ever had, his only defense against a world united and committed to his destruction. [[And he's still staring at you.|Nine Appears]]<</linkreplace>>

<<set $collar to true>>You've worn this collar for years, but it's not because you're a crushed, abused, chained thing, broken and yearning to be free. Nothing could be more antithesis to the truth, or a more bitter lie. <<linkreplace "You have not been tamed." t8n>>You have not been tamed, at least not against your will. <<linkreplace "If he doesn't understand this, he'll understand nothing." t8n>>If he doesn't understand this, he'll understand nothing. "I'm not a prisoner," you say slowly, searching for the right words and praying you find them. "And this doesn't mean I'm in danger either. Sometimes wearing this does mean servitude and control, but that's not the most important thing to me--us." It's a simplification; in some ways the collar is very much about control and ownership, but it's a different sort of control than what anyone would imagine. It's the kind that gives you purpose and security, that lets you relax and know that you can let go of all your anxieties and second-guesses at decisions. Forget about the things that scare you, let someone else take over and know you'll never be forgotten yourself, or abandoned. Let the world turn without you for a while. "It's partly a physical comfort. Wearing it makes me feel safe. Protected, loved... claimed. I relax the second it goes on, because it's also a reminder that I belong to someone--and that's because there's nowhere else on Earth I'd rather be." "Someone still put that on you and locked it!" Nine protests. "Who has the key to that?" <<linkreplace "You smile." t8n>>You smile. He obviously expects one answer--people usually do, and that's fair, because it's usually accurate--but your individual truth is something else. "Almost always? Me." Nine's mouth hangs open in the confused gape of a fish spirited away from its home and dragged up to a dry and alien world. <<linkreplace "You reach into a pocket." t8n>>You reach into a pocket. Then you take out a small silver key, lovingly polished to a bright gleam and surprisingly heavy. "Jupiter put the collar on me," you explain. "Because they wanted to show me how important I am, and how they picked me, how they'll always pick me--but I'm the one who locked it, and I'm usually the one who takes it off. Most submissives wouldn't have the key, but this is one of our specific negotiations, and it's a big one for me. Like I've been saying, I'm in control here. I'm in control most places, even when it looks like I'm not." You have to chuckle. It's something of an inside joke, one Nine has no real way of getting, but you do, and if Jupiter can hear you, which they almost certainly can, so do they. "Especially then." Nine doesn't answer right away. Instead he's just been quietly listening, seeming less nervous and more curious. Interested, intrigued if not quite trusting yet. As you'd spoken, he'd started to nod, and by now, the look on his face is still surprised and not quite comprehending, but at least willing to accept what he doesn't quite understand. "Huh," he says slowly. "Okay. Maybe I believe you. Maybe." [[It's a promising sign.|calmer now]] <</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

<<run DebugView.disable()>>

This has gone on long enough, and you can't let it continue. Your heart won't let you, even as something deep inside it aches at rejecting this already-battered boy. You can't leave your home, or your Dominus, not for anything or anyone. And you don't know what will come of letting a stranger into your life, especially one who doesn't understand the first thing about it, or you. Nine may be an innocent who deserves help and love, but you have to look after yourself first. You can't be the one to give it. You gather your strength, and stand firm and (relatively) tall. [[Then you make yourself say the words.|Goodbye Nine]]

"Jupiter?" you call quietly.<<if $jupiter_here is true>>"Eclipse."<</if>> You barely have time to take a breath before their arms are around you, your place in the universe secure, and every screeching anxiety stops, now that <<linkreplace "they're here." t8n>>they're here. <<if $jupiter_here is false>>Everybody expects the guardian of a forest to be a thin willow tree or a delicate sprite--a sparkling nymph like you--but what you get is so much better. Their face is as round and bright as the full moon and just as beautiful, their gray eyes like twin moons within. Their body matches, heavy and solid, comforting and smelling and feeling like home. You run to them and you're enveloped in their warm, fat arms and wonderful softness, both their body and the warm black cloak that curls around you like an embrace of wings. Jupiter murmurs soft words in your ear that you barely understand, only that you're together the way you're meant to be, only that you're safe, and loved. Every bit of tension melts away from your every muscle, and your head spins, dizzy with relief. <</if>>\ \ "Did I do the right thing?" <<linkreplace "you whisper." t8n>>you whisper. "For the moment, and for you," they reply, and you can feel their voice thrumming in their chest. "More than that, we'll see. But you and me--that's always right." You nod a little, even as tears sting at your eyes. "Eclipse. Please, take me home." They do. They hold you until you're back where you began, in a warm and bright and safe place in the middle of the forest, then wrap you up for longer. You won't forget this night, but for right now, curled against their chest, breathing Jupiter in, fear and sadness out, you can try. You'll never know what might have been, had this been another night, in another time, but you're happy with the one you have. [[The End.]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

"I know your intentions were good, but I don't need them," you say, voice remaining level and calm as possible. You don't do this out of anger, but you must. "And I told you that I wasn't in danger. I appreciate the concern, but I don't need it. Now I need you to leave." "I'm sorry," he whimpers. "I just didn't want you to get hurt." "I won't, I promise. <<if $burnednine is true>> And neither will you--that should feel better in about a minute.<</if>> If you head a few more minutes in that direction, the trees will thin out," you say with an indicating nod. "You should see a few far-off lights. Those are streetlights, not stars. I know the city nearby--I can give you directions to a safe place, if you'd like." He holds very still and listens silently as you tell him the quickest way to a few of the only people you trust outside the forest. It's farther than you'd like, and you wouldn't feel comfortable making that trip without Jupiter--or at least, without magic. "There's one last thing I can do," you say, raising your hand that holds the star-wisp so you can better see his tired face. "Is it all right if I cast a very quick little spell on you? It'll make you travel faster, with less effort, and make it less likely you'll be seen." He hesitates, and you think he's about to run off into the woods again, but then <<linkreplace "he nods, a silent jerk of his head." t8n>>he nods, a silent jerk of his head. You close your eyes and become a conduit, letting the magic flow through you, focusing the energy all around you into a single direction like a prism.<<if $burnednine is true>>The first thing you do is heal the hands you wish you hadn't had to burn. Still, you try not to sink into guilt; they were on you without your permission.<</if>> Then you ask the magic currents to swirl around him in gentle eddies, bless and strengthen his exhausted muscles and soothe his pain, hide him from anyone who means him harm until he reaches a safe haven. "There," you say when you're finished, and he seems to glow with his own soft, silvery moonlight. "Does that feel better?" <<linkreplace "He says something, or tries to." t8n>>He says something, or tries to. Maybe he's trying to thank you, or maybe nothing so happy. His words are choked with tears, and no meaning reaches your ears. Before you can ask what he said, if he's really going to be able to make it to the nearest other living human souls, he scrambles backwards again. In an instant, he's gone, swallowed up into the dark forest from whence he came. [[You're alone.|Come get you now]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

"I'm just not gonna let anything hurt you, okay?" "What do you think was going to happen to me back there?" you counter. "Are you kidding? The altar. The knife. It's midnight. You were going to--they were going to sacrifice you! I know what that looks like!" He's shaking, and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. "Look, you're even dressed up for it." <<linkreplace "You have to admit, you do look the part." t8n>>You have to admit, you do look the part. On nights like this, you feel as much fae as human, as much faun as star. Small, light, wood-carved antlers sit atop your head, and tiny white freckles fall like snowdrops down your face and neck, shining in your own little star-spell, interrupted only by your black leather collar and its smooth metal ring whose lower edge falls gently against your collarbone. Glittering swirls of deep indigo-purple, iridescent green, and brilliant gold starbursts trail from your eyes past your cheekbones, forming small galaxies and nebulas on your skin. The intricate shapes continue their shining, butterfly's-wing path down your neck, disappearing beneath your robe's low-cut neckline. Something about knowing the carefully-applied decoration goes all the way down makes you feel accomplished, glorious, proud. You've turned yourself into living art, made yourself look as celestial as you feel. You don't just run beneath or among the stars; you are of them. And something about the way he's staring, concern mixed with obvious awe, <<linkreplace "makes you almost smile." t8n>>makes you almost smile. "How do you know I don't just dress up like this every night?" Your tone is teasing, but he doesn't laugh, or smile, or look anything but terribly worried. "Listen. I'm not in danger. I chose this--if I hadn't, I wouldn't be here." He says nothing, just keeps looking at you with that painfully tense, exhausted, haunted stare. "How can I convince you?" "I don't think you can," he says quietly, and noticeably shivers. "I know what I saw. I know what happens next, even if you don't." He keeps his hand on your wrist, you keep your eye on him, and the both of you [[keep going]].<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

(Nine gives Venus the knife) "Thank you. That really could be dangerous in the wrong hands," you say, securing the knife up one of your flowing sleeves. Then you pause, and soften your tone. Nine still looks shocked, but not as horrified as he had a moment ago. "But it isn't." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I know how to use it, and so does Jupiter. They have...very steady hands." "Huh," he says, not sounding completely convinced or comprehending, but not arguing either. You don't explain; telling him the entire truth about the knife--about the transcendent fire its precisely-controlled point can trail across your skin, how great the gift of your trust even as the edge of that blade is pressed against your throat, how sometimes you forget to breathe but remember who you really are--may be a bit much for him, at least at the moment, when he's barely accepted he's not going to die tonight. COLLAR STUFF: "So, okay, the knife isn't actually bad for you," he says, hesitating and suspicious like an easily-spooked, but curious deer. "But what about that? Why would you wear that unless you were a slave or prisoner or something?" "I'm not a prisoner," you say slowly, searching for the right words and praying you find them. "Or a slave, at least not in the way you're thinking. Sometimes wearing this does mean servitude and control, but that's not the most important thing to me--us." It's a simplification; in some ways the collar is very much about control and ownership, but it's a different sort of control than what anyone would imgaine. "It's partly a physical comfort. Wearing it makes me feel safe. Protected, loved... claimed. I relax the second it goes on, because it's also a reminder that I belong to someone--and that's because there's nowhere else on Earth I'd rather be." "Someone still put that on you and locked it!" Nine protests. "Who has the key to that?" <<linkreplace "You smile." t8n>>You smile. He obviously expects one answer--people usually do, and that's fair, because it's usually accurate--but your individual truth is something else. "Almost always? Me." RITUAL STUFF: "The hunt is mostly symbolic. I run through the woods, Jupiter hunts and catches me, there's a knife, it touches my skin, there's...sexual ignition, and there's definitely a climax magic spike. It can be very intense. It might even look violent from the outside, but I'm never actually hurt," you assure him. "And I definitely never die. It makes me feel more alive in that moment than anything else--and Jupiter would cut off their own hand before they let anything hurt me, including themself. The sacrifice is a ritual only, and it might come with a knife, but in our case, it usually doesn't involve blood." INDIVIDUAL LINES: "There's power in blood freely given, and forcibly taken--but we only deal with the first part." "What you've been through, no wonder you see danger even where it isn't." When you're together, the darkness is comforting, the shadows home, and even knives feel like kisses. (NERD REFERENCE TO RODGERS AND HAMMERSTEIN'S CAROUSEL I felt you would appreciate. I always *hated* that line, because it's a parent slapping a child, and NO, that is never okay... the only answer here is "if it's between consenting adults!") "Yeah," he says quietly. "I think I'd like that, a lot. If you want me. I'll try not to be scared if I see something I don't understand. But even if I do...I still want to be here."

"If the ritual isn't real, what good is it?" Nine asks. "I never said it wasn't real," you point out. "I don't need to actually die to be reborn, or be divine. Jupiter doesn't need to hurt me to be powerful. We're still telling a story. We're creating something together. Demonstrating the strength of our bond and power, and making them even stronger. In that moment, everything is real." <<linkreplace "Your own hair stands up and you shiver." t8n>>Your own hair stands up and you shiver. The thought of it alone makes your heart beat faster, your skin sting in anticipation, but it's a wild, free-flying expectation that could never be born of fear. "That sounds so different from anything I ever knew existed," Nine says, sounding caught between disbelief and awe, tempered with faint and fragile hope. "I've never seen magic that didn't hurt. Or that didn't ask for something... or more like demand it. Something I didn't want to give." "Like I said, it doesn't sound like anyone asked how you felt about it," you observe. "Or cared about the answer." Nine shakes his head wordlessly, pale hair swaying. "No trust," you conclude. "Without trust the only magic you get is a selfish, dysfunctional kind that doesn't care who it hurts, just chews you up and spits you out and leaves you cold and alone. I'm not going to say that's not 'real magic' or your old coven weren't 'real witches,' because witches can do horrible things just as easily as anyone else. But it's not how magic should be. What you've been through, no wonder you see danger even where it isn't." <<linkreplace "Nine stares at you, more shrewdly this time." t8n>> Nine stares at you, more shrewdly this time. "You really trust Jupiter?" You nod without hesitation. Something rustles nearby, and you can feel them still watching, listening, and loving you. Like Nine, it seems, Jupiter is always [[trying to help you]]. "And they trust me. No matter how dominant, or how submissive, or how lost or scared or powerful or overjoyed. We're always on each other's side. That's the most important thing."<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

"You know, I came to these woods for a reason. Two reasons. The shadows sang to my blood, and there are no annoying, closed-minded, dangerous people to deal with out here. Only one person has ever wandered in and interrupted my lifetime of solitude." You bite your lip, <<linkreplace "hiding a smile of your own." t8n>>hiding a smile of your own. Jupiter speaks as if they're ancient, instead of just a couple years older than you. "I had a choice back then, to let them stay or cast them out. And I'm very glad I didn't listen to my first instinct, the one that came from anger and pain. That was you, Venus. If anything was going to convince me to open my heart again, it's the precedent of you. And you, Nine...?" Jupiter stops, a frown creasing their brow, and you can feel Nine holding his breath right along with you. "Do I still frighten you?" "No," he says without hesitation, warming you from the inside. "I think you're... really cool. Strong, but... nice. Like you can take care of yourself and just about anyone else. You can be scary when you want to be, but I don't think you are." "I certainly can be." Now Jupiter makes no effort to hide their smile. "Just like these woods definitely demand respect. To forget that is to invite disaster. But do they still frighten you?" "A little," Nine admits. "But not as much as when I was alone in them. And you two definitely know what you're talking about. Even the knife. I think I could get to be okay with it as long as you're... well, if I'm not alone again." "Then I just have one more question. Do you want to stay here?" Nine's jaw drops, face shocked and <<linkreplace "blue eyes open wide." t8n>>blue eyes open wide. He doesn't answer right away; he may be afraid to, so you speak instead. "Would it really be all right?" you ask, and like the wolf's soft ears, Jupiter's soft eyes immediately turn to your face. "It doesn't have to be forever, just until he finds his feet and gets his bearing on the world again." "You act like this is the first time a lost soul has wandered in here," they say, curling one large arm around your waist, letting out a muted, pleased sound when you automatically lean against them and relax. "But why are you asking me?" "Because I love you and I want you to be happy." "Then there's your answer." Jupiter rubs your back in a slow circle, then turns their gaze--just as piercing and focused as the wolf's, and the owl's, but nowhere as cold--at Nine. "And what's yours?" Nine folds his arms and frowns again, <<linkreplace "this time in a thoughtful way." t8n>>this time in a thoughtful way. "If I stayed with you, what would you do with me?" "Give you a shower and clean clothes," Jupiter says immediately, priorities always blunt and unabashed. "Give you the solid meal you look like you've never had in your life. Give you a place to sleep, which I also doubt you've often experienced. Then... whatever you like. You'd be free to leave any time, and we'd be free to ask you to at any time--provided we find a safe place for you instead. And if we'd all rather you stay..." their eyes travel to you, then back. "We'll negotiate. We'll figure it out together, one night at a time. Does that sound like something you'd like?" Slowly, tentatively, Nine nods. [[Just as tentatively, he smiles.|Nine says yes]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>>

"Yeah," he says quietly, looking from you to Jupiter and back with tentative but clear hope. "I think I'd like that, a lot. If you want me. I'll try not to be scared if I see something I don't understand. But even if I do...I still want to be here. I want to be with you." Part of you--admittedly a large part by now--also wants [[Nine to stay with you]]. One that sees the truth of him, this well-meaning, scared, brave boy under the dirt and blood and knee-jerk panic. You try to imagine what it might be like to know him, live with him, care about him, and find you can imagine it very easily. You have equally little trouble picturing Jupiter teaching him about life in your forest haven--even if your relationships differ from however Nine's evolve, you know your Dominus will show him the same care and guardianship they've shown you for so long. None of it feels diminished with the arrival of a third, only grown. Thinking about an extended time with Nine here comes with a bit more difficulty, but only because you have so many unanswered questions on both sides. The future is nebulous, but with honesty, communication, and trust, you'll see a clear path. The nice part about the life you've chosen is that you never have to walk alone.

"I like Luna," Nine says, shy and sweet, more deer than you, even if tonight you wear the antlers. Your heart feels like it's overflowing with joy, Like it may well burst into a blazing meteor shower. You want to run to him and leap into his arms, wrap your own arms around him and tell Luna he's safe, his nightmares are over, and even if they persist, he'll never wake to find himself alone. But you could never risk scaring or hurting him, not after all this, so you settle for reaching out your hand. "I like Luna too." <<linkreplace "He takes your hand, and Jupiter takes you home." t8n>> He takes your hand, and Jupiter takes you home, walking together toward a safe place in the dark. Your heart is fuller than the moon, and warm as the corona of a star. Your hand fits as comfortably and easily in Nine's as it does in Jupiter's, whose larger hand rests gently on his thin back. He's under their protection already, in more than one way. Tonight's problem has been solved. The next night, with all its problems and joys and questions and answers, you'll face together. You can't wait. [[The End.]] <</linkreplace>>

"One of you?" Nine repeats shakily, and his grip on you increases until you try to gently shake it off, to no avail. "I don't know, who are you even--" "Take your hands off my submissive." Jupiter's voice rings in your head like a bell, so clear it's almost painful. Nine immediately obeys, snatching his hand back from your wrist so quickly it's as if your skin has burned him. "Walk away, keep walking, and leave these woods! Never come back!" <<linkreplace "Then the owl's unblinking stare shifts to you." t8n>>Then the owl's unblinking stare shifts to you. Their voice softens, a gentle stroke instead of the blows meant for your 'captor,' and somehow even the gaze of the owl seems to as well. "Venus, I'm coming, don't worry. I'm flying to you, as you breathe. Just stay where you are, tell him to get his interloping ass out of our woods, and I'll be right there before you know it." You nod, but don't verbally confirm. Jupiter might have given you an instruction, but sometimes there are no absolutes. During extenuating or emergency circumstances, you're encouraged to make your own way, and these circumstances are quite extenuating indeed. [[The choice remains yours.|hold off]]<</linkreplace>>

Nine turns his frightened gaze on you and grabs at your wrist again, and you suspect it's more for comfort than anything. He opens his mouth and starts to say something but Jupiter's voice fills your head again before either of you can move. "Venus!" <<linkreplace "a wonderfully familiar voice booms." t8n>>a wonderfully familiar voice booms. It doesn't come from the owl; instead, as before, it seems to emenate from everywhere around you, but only exists in your own mind. Still, just because something's only in your mind doesn't mean it's not real. "Are you all right? What's he doing to you?" "I'm not doing anything!" Nine yelps, and you jump, not from the sudden noise but realization. "The owl--the owl is talking to me! What is that? What's happening?" "He didn't threaten me, exactly--" you start to interject, but you've known Jupiter long enough to not be surprised when they jump right back in. Not much tends to stop them once they get going like this. Jupiter's always had a flair for drama, especially the righteous kind. "You, stranger! You dare threaten my star?" your Dominus thunders, a furious contrast to the owl's silent stare, and the woods seem to tremble in response. "Prey upon my sweet faun, on this sacred night, in our home, under my protection? There are less painful ways to invite death, I assure you!" "I'm sorry!" Nine cries. "I was just trying to help! I wasn't going to hurt Venus, I promise! Please don't hurt me!" "They're not going to--wait, you heard that?" you ask, watching with surprise and interest as Nine starts to back away from the owl, blade raised as if it, or anything, could possibly defend him from the forest's personified wrath. "Only other witches can hear our telepathy. Are you [[one of us]]?"<</linkreplace>>