-Chapter Five: I'll write an anthem worth repeating (I want to feel the transformation)-
Bad immediately liked this setup.
Usually the humans he met were all stuffy and over themselves, but where this curious man and his pig son lived was so subtle yet cozy and lived in. It was such a sharp contrast to normality in Bad's eyes. Bad loved it all.
Save for the whipping wind outside, it almost never made its way inside, and if it did it was more like a warm breeze thanks to the inside. Lanterns were set on piles of books resting on fur rugs (faux, it seemed) and little cushions laid next to each other, one green, another purple, the smallest mustard yellow.
Even though a smile still refused to poke through, his tail twitched in what was a subtle wag. He put the strap around his shoulder and let out a sigh, tension leaving his body. He was warm. The satchel was safe. Everything was fine.
"So what is your name, traveller?" the small man asked, placing the pig man - Michael, perhaps? - on the small mustard cushion. Michael snorted as if in thanks and placed the chicken beside him, who nestled against his knee.
"BadBoyHalo," the demon replied. "But you can call me Bad."
"Interesting name." the goat man said, and Bad could hear a faint hint of amusement. He got that a lot, so he let it slide.
If he wasn't so scared of me at first he probably would have pointed it out as well.
"And you?"
"Oh, my name is Tubbo. That there is Michael, my son -" he pointed to the pig man. "And I have a husband, his name is Ranboo, but he's off doing… something." Tubbo sounded unsure with himself, as if even he didn't know where his husband had gone.
"Well… again, thank you for letting me stay, even just for the storm." Bad said, a bit uncomfortable with the subject. Did something happen to Ranboo that he wasn't aware of? Was Tubbo somebody he should actually be cautious of?
Stop it Bad, you're thinking too hard. He has a kid, for goodness sake.
"Yes, anytime." Tubbo said, sounding a bit more pleasant now. "I'm happy to help. Plus, I would never leave someone out in a blizzard like this."
Bad laughed lightly with no curve to his mouth, heaving the strap farther up his shoulder as it was slowly falling off. "Where are you heading to, Bad?" Tubbo asked as he dropped to the floor and patted the space in front of him, as if in invitation.
"I'm heading to a cabin past the mountains." Bad replied, taking the invite gratefully, his legs not able to cross and instead just half - tucked in front of him. He hoped it wasn't that obnoxious.
"Past the mountains you say?" Tubbo looked visibly more wary as he grabbed a small wooden kettle and two cups. He poured thin brown liquid in both of them in silence, then handed one to Bad, a tense smile stretching his scars. "Visiting any friends?"
"Yeah, actually." Bad said, taking the cup and sipping a bit. The pleasant taste of cinnamon and nutmeg hit his throat, and he sighed. "This is amazing."
"Homemade recipe." The other pridefully told him, then seemed to get a bit more serious again. "So who are you visiting?"
"Oh, old old friend. Actually a friend of… yeah."
"What's his name?"
"Technoblade."
Immediate shift in emotions. Tubbo looked shocked to his core, then his face darkened, his eyes glowing an odd eerie yellow. "No..
"He blew me up."
~--~
Bad yelped, a darkness folding out from his back, shielding Skeppy from the spray of glass. Skeppy's ears rang, and he couldn't quite register what was happening besides the contrast of whatever just appeared from Bad and the light coming from his curtains.
A low snarl was emitting from Bad's throat, the green becoming more prominent in his eyes, much like when he snapped at the king. It unnerved Skeppy just a bit, but when he backed away a fluffed tail blocked him. "Stay." Bad growled, voice deeper and way more serious than his usually higher pitched tone. Skeppy was shocked into compliance, staring at the other.
Bad's hood had fallen to his shoulder sometime during the explosion, exposing furred cheeks and long ears. Horns sprouted from his forehead (at least one thing was familiar) and his tail whipped dangerously behind Skeppy. Really, the only things that were different were the broad wings sprouting from Bad's shoulder blades, hovering over Skeppy like an umbrella from danger, and his claws were longer and more curled.
Naturally the wings sort of scared him more.
As he shrunk back against Bad's tail, it seemed to wrap unconsciously around his chest. Just then embarrassment racked Skeppy as three cloaked figures jumped in, donning no distinguishing features save for clothes of green, blue, and orange.
He tried to push Bad's tail off, but it just wrapped tighter, though not quite tight enough to make it hard to breath. Meanwhile the figures were not even paying attention to the prince, all eyes on Bad. Their swords and spears dangled by their side, tense as if poised to attack. Bad looked just as ready.
"Demon." The middle one spat, their dark cloak more of a greenish colour than the others. "You know you were never welcome into life here, right?"
"You never understood, did you, Dᒷᔑᒲ." Bad spat back, back arching not unlike a cat. "Don't bring your language to my ears, rat spawner!" The green figure yelled.
Meanwhile Skeppy had stopped struggling at Bad's last words. The language was like a mix between clicks and snarls, and it seemed like a complicated mix not even Skeppy could try.
Not that this was the best time.
"Just listen to me for once!" Bad screeched, high pitched and making Skeppy's eardrums pop.
"Not when you have a literal PRINCE trapped behind you! What, is he your next victim?" the cloaked figure sneered.
"No!" Bad protested, sounding shrill and panicked.
"Then what is he? Food? A pet? Perhaps just someone you're stalking?"
"None of those." Bad growled, sounding partially defeated and maybe a bit defiant. Skeppy felt a little touched that Bad seemed to care so much, but maybe it was just appearance.
Maybe that's all the demon cared about.
Appearance.
Skeppy scowled, finally pushing Bad's tail off to stand and dust himself. "Then what am I to you?"
"You and your mood swings." Bad grumbled under his breath before making himself more heard around the room. "A friend."
"You haven't even talked or came to visit me for a month! A MONTH, Bad! I thought I lost you -"
The green - cloaked figure chuckled a bit, and Skeppy shot him a glare. Naturally, that shut him up. "I thought I lost you, and then you come back for what, shelter? Protection? That sounds an awful lot like using someone."
"Skeppy, you know you don't mean what you said." Bad replied desperately, like an animal caught between a hunter and a rock too slippery to climb. "You're just being bipolar."
"Oh, now you're diagnosing me?" Skeppy demanded, hands thrown up in expasteration.
He could swear he saw a wide smile under the green figure's hood.
Wait. Did he mean all this?
He backed away, hands wringing nervously together. "Who are you guys?" The green figure laughed. "None of your concern, mortal. We're just here to set history right."
Skeppy's hands dropped to his sides in tight fists. He stepped forward to step by Bad's side, and he felt like it was getting harder and harder to try to stand with him. But he stayed nonetheless. That couldn't have been him. He needed to fight it.
Again with the cliches, he thought ruefully. Life is just one big book, isn't it.
The green figure chuckled like Skeppy had just told a hilarious joke. "You're quite right, mortal. Life IS one big book. This demon is just the antagonist in the story. So what do you say? Step aside, and no one will get hurt."
"You lie through your teeth." Bad snarled, his wings pulling farther into his body. Skeppy looked up at his face, contemplating. The other was ridden with furrowed brows and a curved mouth turned downwards. I want it facing up.
"With all due respect, mister creepy green dude, I will decline. Bad has done nothing wrong, and I'm sure he never will or have." Skeppy said, shoving those intruding thoughts away. He was about to freaking die.
A barrage of conflicting emotions slammed into his own like a wall, and Skeppy stumbled, grabbing his head as the headache pursued. Bad yelped and turned to help him -
A horrible shot. Skeppy could hear a faint scream past his ringing, and he raised his head. Red. Red against blue. Wet, sticky. Wait, was he on the ground? He stumbled to his feet, slowly gaining control again.
The blue figure was holding a crossbow in a halfly - concealed hand, white - rimmed goggles speckled lightly and ruining the clean demeanour. The blue figure growled a bit, like he was annoyed about that.
Skeppy jolted, turning a full circle. Blood had speckled the soles of his feet as he had stepped in it, and his hands were covered in it. "Bad?" he yelped.
The green figure scowled as well, looking over to the blue figure, then the orange. "Where did he go?" he demanded. The blue figure shrugged.
"You missed, you perishable human being. Get him!"
Skeppy bolted.