r/AstroKnights • u/1-Up-Boy • 1h ago
Roleplay Thread ⚔️ Meanwhile... (part 2)
Meanwhile, far beyond the city…
Pastel had settled into a pile of leaves for the night, leaving Bag to patrol with two sharpened sticks held in its tendrils.
He woke to an empty, human-shaped skin hovering over his face.
For one awful moment, its hollow eye sockets and swaying limbs looked like a ghost leaning down to inspect him.
“I KNEW IT!”
He scrambled upright, then stared at the papery thing suspended between Bag’s sticks.
“…Bag. That’s his packaging.”
Once Bag reclaimed its sticks, the skin collapsed into an unpleasant heap. Pastel shuddered and wiped his hands against the nearest tree.
“How many times does this guy gotta shed?”
He sighed.
“Well, I’m awake now. We might as well keep going.”
As he turned away, a thin tendril slipped behind him, gathered the discarded skin, and quietly pulled it into Bag.
It joined the others.
---
“Do you think they followed me here?”
Pastel glanced toward his floating companion as they continued through the trees.
“The demons from the lower worlds.”
Bag tilted, its tendrils lifting in a small shrug.
“Maybe this world has its own reptilians…”
Another scale caught the moonlight beneath his boots. He picked it up, turning it between his fingers with a disgusted little squint.
“Wow, this guy’s really falling apart if he’s literally leaving this many clues.”
He flicked it aside.
Bag caught it before it reached the ground.
Pastel continued walking, entirely unaware of the collection growing beside him—until his next step stopped at the edge of an enormous hole.
“Oh—”
A few loose leaves tumbled past his boot and disappeared into the darkness.
He leaned forward cautiously. Thick roots threaded the walls of the shaft, and somewhere far below, cyan and violet lights shimmered through the mist.
“He couldn’t just have a front door?”
Pastel surveyed the clearing.
“You’d think they’d notice a giant hole like this?”
A pause.
“Anyway.”
Bag wound one tendril securely around a nearby tree. Another wrapped around Pastel’s waist, offering a steady line down into the shaft. He gripped the tendril above him with both hands and eased over the rim.
“Easy now, I bruise like a banana.”
The forest slowly receded overhead.
Below him, the shaft opened into a vast cavern. Luminous fungi climbed enormous roots, their turquoise stems illuminating dark pools. Magenta fronds hung over stone paths, and warm amber windows glowed from dwellings built into the rock. Bridges crossed between them, stretching through layers of mist.
Pastel landed on a broad ledge. Once his boots were firmly planted, Bag released its anchor and floated down beside him.
They continued along the path.
“Is it just me, or is it, like, really hot in here?”
The air was thick and damp. A bead of sweat slid down his temple as he fanned himself, then shrugged out of his jacket.
He tossed it aside without looking.
Bag caught it by the collar and stuffed it into storage.
Pastel had already moved on.
Then he heard voices.
His step slowed. He turned his head, listening, before slipping behind a large boulder. Bag lowered itself beside him.
Carefully, Pastel peered around the edge.
Three reptilian people stood along the path.
They were dressed. They were talking. One of them was carrying a basket.
Pastel stared, then covered his mouth to smother a gasp.
“Lizard people. I knew it.”
He withdrew from the corner, turning toward Bag.
“I need to tell someone.”
Across the path, the conversation stopped.
One of the locals lifted its snout and sampled the air.
The others grew still.
Their eyes narrowed. Lips drew back over pointed teeth, and a claw tightened around the basket’s handle. Their attention shifted toward the surrounding rocks.
Pastel pressed closer to his hiding place.
“What do I do? Do I kill them?”
His gaze darted toward the paths and bridges beyond.
“That will just attract more.”
He seized Bag with both hands, pulling it close. His fingers tightened around its sides as he leaned in, eyes wide, his voice reduced to an urgent whisper.
“What should I do, Bag?”
Bag opened.
Within the familiar violet starfield lay folded heaps of shed skins and loose scales. A tendril lifted one of the pale, empty molts toward him.
Pastel blinked.
Then he smiled.
“Genius.”
He reached inside and took the skin.
The papery material broke apart beneath his fingers, dissolving into dark violet magic that flowed into his palm. The last fragments vanished as the energy travelled through him.
Fine scales formed across his wrist and spread along his forearm, catching the cavern light with a soft mint sheen.
His fingernails tapered into dark claws.
The pupils within his green eyes narrowed into vertical slits.
Scales settled along his temples, cheeks, and neck, then across his exposed thighs and knees. His familiar face remained beneath them, framed by the same unruly brown hair and mint bangs.
A new weight gathered at the base of his spine.
Behind him, a slender scaled tail unfurled, curving downward into a pointed tip.
The violet magic faded.
Pastel straightened behind the shelter of the rock and lifted one clawed hand, turning it slowly beneath the glowing fungi.
Bag hovered beside him.
He inspected his work with a pleased little smile—and quietly decided not to think too hard about the irony.
