july catch-all (open + closed prompts in comments)

[grice]

Who: falco w/ friends, old and new (you)!
What: an open log with a few closed prompts here and there for the duration of july; falco will be going through some changes that have to do with this player plot! i have my plans here and here for reference! feel free to reach out on the plotting comments, liberos or owlie#3609 if you'd like to plot something specific! i can definitely do personalized tls!
When: july
Where: corners of trench!

Content Warnings: this will be updated accordingly! check out the headers for their appropriate cws! here you will find: rituals, possession, body horror, mentions of self harm, child death.

Comments

OPEN: y’all falco stans be like

[grice]

ᴍɪᴅ-ɪsʜ ᴊᴜʟʏ

[ the storm that floods trench hits like a truck. it brews, blows, the winds shriek angry and fierce across shores and inner land. during the mess, and leading into a full week, falco grice has gone missing. then his omen, and somewhere after the seventh, confetti too, seems to vanish. the boy has not left humanity and returned to squid; his network username is online and functional— it was left home, and he doesn’t answer. even through perle, falco refuses to hear whatever he’s received.

his mind is scrambled. his body feels abnormal to control over such a long period, and it still baffles his state into a further spiraling confusion when the thoughts return to one conclusion: he cannot remove himself. he has nothing to remove. the vessel he is used to maneuvering like a puppet doesn’t exist, he is the wires, strings and heart. he’s alone in a large enough cave wedged between the rocks of the farther shore. it’s mostly dark, and clammy all the time. the winds that roar outside seem to yell at him like furious ghosts. he’s beyond hungry with his new, shed-sized stomach, and is only kept warm by the abundance of feathers he has trapping the heat in.

he does not leave the caves in this weather and state, neither is he in any condition to squeeze into a home when three of his talons barely fit through human-sized doors. there is someone who leaves for him, to fetch as much food as possible: confetti sadly doesn’t understand the concept of trade, and takes what he sees and what he finds. he steals without meaning to steal, stuffing a bag hurriedly with an assortment of salvaged fruits, wet potatoes and fish, then flitting away on his rapidly beating fairy wings with the weight of his produce hanging beneath him.

the fairy seems to be in a hurry; he doesn’t stop for familiar faces. well, he does! a momentary blip of hesitation it is, before he decides that his mission to hoard food is more important. can an egg-thing look concerned? well, he’s very fast for the weight he’s carrying, diligent and focused like a worker bee. if you’re fast enough, you might be able to follow him.

he’s headed straight for the rocks. ]

[terriblepurpose]

[In the fairy's wake, a blackclad figure with his face obscured behind a scarf follows. He leaves trinkets everywhere that the little creature unknowingly plunders, murmuring apologies to baffled Trenchies, all while still managing to track the fast-flying Confetti.

If he showed himself to the red and blue dappled creature, Confetti doesn't know enough to understand what Paul has done. There's a better than good chance, he thinks, that Confetti would lead him willingly to wherever his destination is - but then again, he's been wrong about odds a great deal, lately.

So he keeps his distance and holds his tongue as Confetti leaves the confines of the city, the work of staying out of sight more challenging the farther they go, and his heartbeat stays steady as he begins to realize where they're headed.

What would Falco be doing out here?]

[grice]

[ oh, sweet confetti, too busy to look back or cover his tracks . . . the cliffside rocks embedded in the sand have fractures of entries into their cold, quiet caves. the fairy flutters inside without hesitation and disappears within one of the many dim-lit caverns. it may be dangerous to get into them, with the rocky surfaces slippery and the waves that roll against them not at all kind. but, you can tell which one houses a single confetti: its happy, showy chirps echo from inside.

inside, they're not as dark as one would expect. mysterious designs and natural lights glow from the cave's wall and ceilings. it's eyecatching, a little loud, given the sounds whirring from the winds outside— but it's restful. just not empty. paul would find what's taken residence here fills an otherwise vast, rocky chamber with its body so close to the ground to fit, its wings so pinned to its sides. confetti chirps happy and proud to have brought him food, hopeful that it would ease the low rumbles from his belly. falco would think to ask: where did you get all of this? is it missing from anyone's things? the fish are all raw, as are the potatoes. that's going to make an ugly concoction of tastes all put together, but . . .

falco won't reprimand him for trying. this might not even be enough— but the creature complies with a wistful sigh and opens up his beak for the fairy to dump every piece of food from its cloth bag. ]

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul knows these caves, and he always comes prepared. It's the work of a moment to clip his glowing Omni in place and chalk his hands before he follows Confetti further along the trail, his boots already the pliant kind that best compromises between protection and agility. He needs it for the journey, though he turns off his Omni when he realizes the glow inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dark.

That's the light that illuminates the scene he sees before him, the hulk of the Titan one he knows, and had half-hoped to never see again. He stares, comprehending but not understanding, but he waits; he wouldn't want to interrupt Falco in a meal, even one like this. (Does things taste different, like this?)

It's only then he emerges from the shadowed entrance he'd lingered in, pushing back his hood as he comes into view.]

Falco?

[grice]

[ it tasted kind of gross, for the record, but easy enough to forget if he just swallowed. he'd just need water to push it all down, but . . . maybe it was just best to drink the rainwater, if it was safe enough to. he keeps that in mind—

but hearing his name, hearing paul say it, it throws the titan into a startled jump and a flurry of feathery beats. relief swells in him, but his heart is in his throat, he's off his balance and rushes to his feet in panic that overrides any sense of comfort. he forgets his size for a split second and rises too fast, too tall for his chambers, at full height— he hits his head on the ceiling. the walls of the cavern quake and hunched downward holding his head, the great bird retreats further back into the cave's interior. there had been a point where the walls squeezed into smaller tunnels, he couldn't get into those. but he could get to the end.

he'd love, absolutely love to take him in, hug him, he was so worried for him— but he doesn't know what's happened to himself. he doesn't know what could be dangerous, where his limits were. they were all scattered and wrong and it's left him confused. as far as he knew, he could pass out at any moment from fatigue and the vessel could switch to autopilot. backed up, the feathers just below his head are quivering, rhythmic but quick. it could be his breathing, it could be his heart.

he's so conflicted, but chooses to sign, repeatedly, the words: I, maybe and danger. "i might be dangerous." ]

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul holds his hands up in a sign that's just as intelligible as Falco's, though less as words and more as a concept: he isn't going to do anything, staying still and calm in the face of Falco's frightened retreat, even if his heart hammers unseen and his gut tightens in dismay. He winces when Falco cracks his head on the stone above, the cavern trembling with his passage, but he remains unmoved.

It's only when Falco is at rest and his signs have been deciphered that Paul reaches to his wrist and taps his shield into life, a blue humming caul that fades into an iridescent soap bubble shimmer under the bioluminescent glow around them.]

You won't be able to hurt me. I have my shield, and I'm fast. You know that.

[He gestures at the tunnels too small for Falco to enter, his exit strategy. He also trusts that Falco wouldn't hurt him, if he had any chance of stopping himself, but that isn't an argument he can make after having seen the circumstances of Falco becoming one.]

May I come over there, or do you want me to stay on this side?

[fogsong]

[ The storm is a brutal one and after it finishes wreaking havoc upon the shores, Sharon shoots Falco a quick text. Your place suffer any damage? She doesn't worry when he doesn't respond immediately but as the hours go by, and then days, worry begins to seep in. She tries to tell herself she's just being paranoid but she sends another text: Everything going all right?

When that doesn't get a response, she gives in to the worry and sends another, though this time through Perle: Come on, Falco. Text me. Call me. Come on.

Sharon hits the streets soon after, searching high and low. She goes to where she knows he stays and then she hits up places she knows he visits. When her searches turn up empty, her worry turns into a nervous, mind-addling panic. She goes through each of the districts. She asks strangers if they've seen him, giving descriptions of both Falco and Confetti, and luck is with her when a fisherman tells her he's seen the tiny winged creature (though no Falco, which sends her mind spiraling).

She heads to the rocky location the man spoke of and feels a sputter of excitement when she spots Confetti off in the distance. She's quick to follow after. ]

[grice]

[ confetti’s been working hard as designated errand boy, flitting off with a perfectly oval stone with a sleek black finish. it’s his omni, which he’s finally felt he should return to in case anyone else had been looking for him. not that he knew how he’d use it, but . . . maybe perle can help, to an extent.

into the cave confetti goes. inside, falco seems to be managing the mountain of actual bread rolls the fairy manage to deliver some minutes earlier. he’s still . . . really worried, it forms a knot in a very big stomach. it was so weird feeling to have when he shouldn’t be. he shouldn’t even be in the oversized flight suit for this long, and yet— here he was! scooping up a bucket’s worth of soggy bread to put in both sets of jaws. he tries to chew and barely does. it’s kind of like.

inhaling krill?

yeah.

falco lays on his side and forgets to take the omni confetti gleefully offers him. the titan groans like a grand metal door to a mess hall that hasn’t been opened in ages. he’s tired, funky, bored and worried. also, somehow endlessly hungry. he wishes he could go outside, if not just for a moment to stretch his wings and get a look around.

even then, it felt like he would be drawing unwanted attention to himself. he’s not comfortable enough. in the meantime, falco fills his lungs, and scrapes at a rock in front of his eyes with a single talon, chipping away the flaky covers to expose deeper stone. he has no actual goal, here— just trying to pass the time and find a distraction.

confetti wilts, but holds onto the omni in the meantime. ]

[fogsong]

[ Sharon follows after the fairy creature with a flutter of excitement and hears Falco before she sees him. The sound of his groan has her take a step back, stomach twisting with a rush of fear, but she pushes forward and ignores it, peering around the corner of the cave mouth.

The sight is a bit of a shock but she's seen Falco like this before and she doesn't waste a moment, stepping into the cave mouth, his name on her lips. It's such a relief to see him that she doesn't question why he's in this form or where he's been. He's safe. He's here and he's safe. ]

I've been looking everywhere for you! [ The relief is visible in her expression even if her tone takes on something more admonishing. She's just happy to see him. ]

[grice]

[ falco destroys his bread mound in a startled swipe to jump onto his hands and legs (part of it was a very sharpened sense of fight or flight, and birds almost always choose flight). he was in no danger of being smacked on, that wasn’t it— hearing sharon’s voice echo within the glowing walls of the cave made both his heart shoot to his throat in creeping fear as well as cause it to melt. he didn’t want to turn her away, he wanted to go to her, every inch of him did. every inch of him was also frightened that something may go wrong. something could happen to him. everything was wrong to begin with.

falco seems absolutely torn after he’s made it into a stand, but he soon retreats when she approaches. sadly, he mourns his choice through an upset rumble that veers into a falling whistle. he holds his massive claws up to gesture— a universally understood “stop”. ]

[fogsong]

[ It strikes her in the heart as he retreats back from her and when he signals for her to stop, she does, albeit with a flash of hurt. A frown tugs at her lips. ]

I just... [ Her words die on her lips as she takes a look around the cave. The scattered, wet bread and the gashes in the wall where he'd drag his talons. Even Confetti. She looks back at him, the hurt replaced with concern. ] Are you okay? Are you hurt?

[ Her eyes are already searching his massive body for signs of damage or injury. She didn't know how she could help him if he were hurt but she'd find a way. She'd do whatever was necessary to help. ]

[possessum]

Falco has died. Peter knows this — saw it for himself. Not the death but the after, what was lying there in the heated mist that smelled like something red and raw peeled wide open. The small shape that was supposed to be a body but just looked like a nightmare.

It's his nightmare, and it plays out over and over and over again. It has for the past three years of his life. And this little bird may not have died at his hands, but there's some horrible festering thing inside of Peter that thinks my fault anyway. This month is the Reckoning's — it's the month of justice (punishment). Maybe this was always coming. Maybe Falco suffered this because of him.

He waits, with his head in his hands and something knocked loose inside him, for Falco Grice to come back on one of those stormy days. He doesn't. And now it's been a week, and Peter's horror finds new forms. Has he— returned to the ocean? Or has something else happened? Something that shouldn't? Peter's heart hammers and he's spending afternoons searching, but he can't find him. Messages go unanswered, maybe unheard at all.

One afternoon, Peter returns to the beach. Out where he'd found the Body, on the far reaches of the black sand. He paces, wide-eyed, mouth quivering — desperate. He turns to face the ocean, feeling sick. Helpless, always, sick from it. Is he out there, trying to return? Something's wrong. Something's wrong.

"Falco!" It's not quite a scream, but it's loud enough that it carries, and emotional enough that something at the back of his throat breaks, makes the name come out hoarse. "Falco!"

mha manga spoilers

[wannasmash]

Midoriya surmised that others would be searching the ground when he reported in, and he took to the skies with Float. He's not keeping parts of his power secret anymore, whatever anyone might infer about the link between Midoriya and his mortal enemy Shigaraki. His power is for saving people. There's no holding back when it comes to that.

He is possessed of a clawing, feral need to keep everyone safe. This is not due to the effects of this world, but something called forth from his deepest roots in times of need. Corruption only gives this churning furnace of an instinct a staying power that would not be possible for so long.

He thinks of Iida, one of his best friends, racing to take a lost child by the hand. That child had been him, so to speak. Midoriya knows the ache and panic of sudden loneliness and trauma and being lost in the midst of a storm. The two youngest members of House Atreides, such as it is now, whatever it is now, are the most vulnerable. Kaworu stayed willingly in the house of a manipulator and betrayer, the god-emperor named John. Falco is missing.

"Falco-kun!" he occasionally calls like a strange bird, and there is an echo from below. He kicks with super strength, displacing the air and propelling himself to float near the person on the ground.

"I--I know you..." He pushes his cowl back and lowers his mask to reveal someone high school age with messy green hair and freckles. Midoriya still retains the Corruption that overtook him during the shipwreck on the fifth. His impossibly all-white eyes are rimmed with sleepless shadows, his fangs cut into his lips, and claws ruin his gloves. His hero costume is washed but still somewhat stained with blood and in tatters from fighting Kaworu's Beast form.

"At Paul-kun's birthday party." At that house. It feels like an age ago.

[possessum]

Something seems to call back in a strange way; something parrots the name. Peter tilts his head up to see something moving up in the skies, and his heart jolts. It's more of a painful sensation than any kind of relief. Hope is not something Peter naturally possesses, and if he ever did have it once, he made sure to become a place where hope couldn't grow. He let it wither up and die; the soil inside him won't welcome it.

Hope is dangerous, hurtful, cruel. He doesn't think it's Falco. Doesn't think it could be that easy. And he's proven correct as the person comes into view, moves down — flying? Floating like that, hovering close by him. Peter jumps a little, but stays where he is, too tired and strange to run. Not even when the boy's face is exposed and he's taking in eyes like two white voids, and sharp things — fangs, claws. There's blood; there's something wrong. The person feels like a predator. His heart's giving quick, unpleasant flutters now. It's a little hard to breathe, for a moment.

But Peter does see the boy through those things. The mop of green hair and the youthful voice — Paul, he mentions Paul (the name is another unpleasant flutter, one that tightens at the base of his throat). Peter blinks as recognition seeps in, slow and strange.

"....I remember you." Even if barely — his mind is already such a hazy place, fogged-over; it's been awhile since the party at the strange house with the skeletons. But Peters does have some memory of the other teen. Did he ever actually meet him? Speak to him? (Did he give him a joint...) Or was he just there in the background, one of Paul's friends? Either way, he's.... different, now. Something's happened to him. Peter stares into those unnerving eyes, hesitant. But something pushes him, because he swears he heard—

"Are you.... Were you calling for Falco, too?"

[wannasmash]

"Yes. I was."

He clutches their shared mission like a lifeline.

"I'm afraid he... He could be sad and scared. He's never seen me Corrupted before--or if he has, that... I was fighting at the time. I-If you would..."

His sentences stumble over themselves as he forgets protocols about succinct communication he should use during a mission to save someone. He's just a boy now, a boy looking for another. He takes in Peter's worried face and makes a decision.

"You were moving on the ground. I can help you get to the places hard to reach. We might find him there. Normally we'd cover more ground separately. B-But if you came along, he might be less scared of you than me."

It's almost laughable, what he's proposing. Falco has seen combat and is personally familiar with transformations. He's seen horrors. He's resilient. But the fact remains this world's blood Corruption can be a dangerous thing, and everyone's manifests differently. Midoriya doesn't want to alarm him when he finds him. He remembers the lesson his Provisional Licensing exam taught him, one he sought to improve on since then.

"It's important to reassure him everything's gonna be okay."

[possessum]

To hear that it's Corruption that's affected the other teen is strangely relieving, even if only slightly. In this place, one can never be sure if it's Corruption or something else at work, so to find that it's something that at least Peter can recognise... That said, he knows to keep a certain guard up. He's seen what Corruption can lead to, something with even sharper teeth and claws and no human mind left at all.

.....But the boy has his mind still, and he sounds so... worried, so desperate, to find and help Falco, and Peter's heart clenches up under his sternum. He's nodding in understanding and empathy, his own eyes wide and wet. Something sticks out to him like a nail pressing into a fresh bruise: as bad-off as the boy appears to be, it's still Falco who has his focus, his concern.

Peter's moving closer to those unsettling white eyes before he has to think about it, taking a little step. He still looks nervous, but he's not running away; he's drawing closer. A team, being formed—

"Yeah— Yeah, I'll help. We can help each other."

He swallows; he wasn't expecting to face this with someone else. Despair was leaking in, hopelessness, he has no idea how to find the younger teen who's so precious to him. But now he has help....

"...I found him. After he.. died. He was close to here." Peter's lids flutter slightly at the memory, and for a moment he looks ill, sways slightly where he stands. But then he's pinching his nails into his palms to keep himself steady and taking deep breaths of the briny sea breeze.

"I thought maybe... I could find him around here again? Like maybe he came back out of the ocean and got stuck somewhere. But... there's no sign of him."

Is he still trapped in squid-form? He should have returned to a human-looking body by now, right? Maybe he got stuck somewhere; it's a horrible thought, but why else hasn't he answered any calls?

Peter can't process the other thought. The one that whispers that maybe Falco isn't coming back at all. Maybe he's in the ocean forever, maybe it was his time to leave, maybe he'll never see him again.

[faceblocks]

[ vi is no familiar face, but she's here all the same, accompanied by a large wolfdog (today she is more dog than wolf; sometimes that changes) who's only slightly wary of the cave, before disregarding that entirely and padding softly in. the little flying creature (???) had stolen two fish right out of vi's hands as she'd been attempting to wrap them in paper - to stuff them into her bag, but---

---it's not even about the fish, really. except that it kind of is? she'd caught them herself (okay, fang had helped) cleaned them herself, and it had been part of the day's plan - a nice thing for a friend, and for a stranger - and now it's (literally) flown away. she cannot fly, but she's fast - and she's willing to parkour her way through all the things if she needs to - a trick that fang's also good at.

now that vi has followed inside, she stops shy of calling out and waits as her omen sniffs the air and cocks its head.]

[grice]

[ confetti has just successfully presented these clean, perfectly cut fish! but they’re . . . very raw again. would the titan stomach cook it to a crisp? would he get sick? most vilebloods don’t, usually, but— falco pauses when his eyes fall on the filets in the fairy’s stubby feather-hands. they’re clean of scales and sliced by someone who knew what they were doing. and he’s about to try and convey that with elaborate gestures to clear out any misunderstandings, until perle, the pygmy falcon omen on top of his head, alerts him to the second omen, and a sleeper not far behind it.

he’s suspecting the fish belong to someone, and he’s afraid of the possibility that it was stolen. without intention to “steal”, but it’s stealing nonetheless! the massive titan remains completely still while staring at the figure at the cave’s mouth. during that time, his feathers begin to stand on end. he doesn’t know what she’s going to do, but . . .

oh, boy. he’s definitely bigger than two houses stacked on each other.

the fairy seems to recognize the woman, and waves as if nothing has happened. it’s not his fault! he really thinks he’s done nothing wrong. ]

[faceblocks]

[fang turns back to her sleeper, as if to say (and saying without saying) well that's where that went. so what now? what now, indeed. the omen lets out a little sigh but moves no closer, giving a pointed look toward vi, a stay where you are sort of look. could be a trick of the light, a trick of the shadow, even - but fang seems to grow larger, darker. not as large as two houses, or even a single house - but her hackles do not rise, and she regards the giant bird calmly.

vi is. she's not exactly calm. because, that creature is fucking huge. and though she's read some things and been told some things - this is the first truly monstrous thing she's seen. it could swallow her whole if it wanted to. does it want to?

what she does is raise her hands very slowly, waving at the fey creature - she's sure now that yes, it, at least is friendly, and it also might be the only thing stopping the very, very tense g i a n t (?) bird from ...any number of things that do not bode well for her. it hasn't made a sound so far - and its feathers are up up and oh, that's not good.]

Didn't mean to startle you.

[to THE GIANT:] Or ...you. Are you...

[could this be a pthumerian? she doesn't discount the idea.]

...can you understand me?

[that question is for either of them.]

[grice]

[ behold, falco has become full popcorn, his stare unwavering between the girl and her growing omen. maybe he should just . . . stand still. perfectly still. he doesn't to hurt anyone, and she doesn't either, from the initial meeting. confetti doesn't exactly respond— he just chirps and does a loop in the air. new friends! the giant bird, on the other hand—

slowly nods. if she had followed confetti here, and confetti had these cleancut fish— he cups his massive hands with these meat hangers for talons beneath his fairy, happy to give the fillets over to him, but what he does next is, carefully, slowly . . . stretch to hold it out to her and her omen. ]

[faceblocks]

[the omen, mostly unsurprised - rises up (and out) in size in an attempt to make the handover easier, offering also a pleased whine into the air between them.

vi? her heart's sure beating fast, and not exactly in the good way - this is sure a surge of adrenaline, but it's uh. it's something. and then she feels the tiniest smile tugging the corner of her lips at the fairy's little loop-de-loop. now is also the time it hits her that wow, she can't really say much about stealing without being a complete hypocrite. half the time she'd stolen it hadn't even been food, it had just been stuff: some of it not even necessary.

the gesture sort of makes her feel sorry - have a bit of sheepish awe, falco.]

You do understand. Okay, so. I'm sorry about all ...this? These fish were just kind of a big deal and---

---it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not sure if I could even manage that. But hey, not trying. Nope. Not happening. Really glad we see eye to eye on that part.

[the creature's tense. aware. quiet. apparently pretty chill with having its lair invaded. but somehow unable or unwilling to hunt for food, and reliant on its tiny (?) companion?]

Are you okay? Do you need someone to bring you more food? I can get you a whole assload of it if you want.

wheres my fuckin SON

[dirtdevil]

[ when this is all over, they're going to have a very serious talk about not leaving home without your omni.

to be fair, he doesn't know Falco that well yet, but he's pretty sure this wasn't an issue of forgetfulness. that doesn't make it any less concerning when Falco doesn't come home one night, though—when the sun comes up the next day and there's still no sign of him, Levi and Erwin head out to search.

it's hard to know where to even start looking.

the weather is shit, which doesn't help. visibility is low, and flooding makes their searches take twice as long; the longer it takes, the more unnerved it makes him. he doesn't really show it, of course, but it doesn't matter now that he's made a threefold blood pact with Erwin: by now, Erwin almost certainly knows.

it really makes things easier when you suck at talking about your feelings.

honestly, with this level of bond, they could probably split up, but he won't do it. one person in his household has already disappeared, and he doesn't like leaving Erwin's side even at the best of times.

he's beginning to feel another pang of worry when he finally spots Confetti out of the corner of his eye. his hand darts out to grab Erwin's arm, not wanting to lose sight of Falco's little friend. ]

Wait, look, it's the egg—

[ uh. fuck. the little egg guy. Confetti, right, that's it. what does that name even mean? he'll ask sometime after they find Falco. which they are going to do. like, right now.

it's possible Confetti is just out here fucking around, he supposes, but the little creature seems to be acting purposefully, so he gets the feeling Falco has to be nearby. they trail him briefly without much of a clue where he's headed, but eventually it becomes clear: this crazy little motherfucker is headed straight for the huge cliffs of rock opposite the farther shore. ]

Where the hell is he going?

[ it's less a real question than an expression of bafflement and concern. this goddamn egg better be leading them to the right place. ]

where he at!!!!!

[theomachy]

[ being so tightly bound to one another makes this search easier in some ways and harder in others. they don't have to speak to know where to go in proximity to one another, how to keep in stride, who goes where and looks at what. it's what they already had, just amplified. absolutely no space between their psyches.

but it also means their emotions are even more bared than normal, and levi's anxiety feeds into erwins anxiety feed back into levi's anxiety.

each passing hour aches a little bit more, wears a little bit more. erwin isn't the type of man to give up on someone so that's not even a thought in his mind, but the aching of wondering and worrying is exhausting.

he feels the spike in levi's consciousness and emotions before feeling him grasp his arm, and turns his gaze to follow where levi is looking.

confetti is certainly determined, and though he does spare them a glance and hesitate, he keeps moving so it's natural for them to fall into (hurried) step behind him. it doesn't take too long to ascertain where he's going, but it just makes erwin feel a little more on-edge than he already did. ]

Only one way to find out.

[ the closer they get, though, the more worried erwin feels. this isn't a good place for anyone, much less falco and confetti. ]

[grice]

[ the rocks are dangerous to get to because of the steep slips and the waves that crash by the cliffs formed by them. sea foam makes the stone slippery, but nothing impossible. confetti has an easy enough time when he simply floats his way over. this time, confetti has purposely brought friends. friends from home. if perle had called for him, it was best to call the two men, too.

they were possibly the only one's falco would trust with shortened distance right off the bat. confetti waits for the duo to come up shortly behind before zooming into one of the cracks that form a rather grand-sized cave. the sand is disheveled and messy. within, it's actually quite beautiful! the ceilings glow on their own, and the walls are covered in glyphs that illuminate the way, the space— and the fact that there is a great big bird in there. he doesn't panic when they come into view, but he does generously duck himself in an attempt to look smaller.

well, hey . . . here's your son. ]

[dirtdevil]

[ no fair, Confetti. that's cheating.

it's a bit on the perilous side following the flying egg down to wherever the hell he's going, but it's not terribly different from what they're used to: hanging out in trees, running around on rooftops (we don't talk about rooftops), that kind of thing. and of course Erwin probably does just fine balancing despite only having one arm because he's just that fucking amazing and talented and hot—wait, what?

right. Falco.

it briefly crosses his mind that there's a very small possibility that Confetti is a traitor and is in fact luring them to their deaths, but he's pretty sure that's not what's going on here. sure enough, while it would at least be a very pretty place to be murdered by a treacherous egg, the cave they follow Confetti into is not that kind of cave.

the glyphs on the wall momentarily catch his attention, but he's too hard-wired to assume death could be lurking behind any corner to spend more than a second looking at them.

plus there's a giant fucking bird in there.

briefly his eyes widen in sheer confusion, but then it clicks: that's no bird. he knows a titan when he sees one.

well, shit.

Falco's a shifter, so there's no real mystery there. he hasn't seen him like this—or he doesn't remember seeing him like this—but he's just going to skip past the bewildered verbal confirmation that it is indeed Falco anyway. no one needs that right now. ]

What are you doing out here?

[ it hits him after he asks. why in the hell would Falco be down here hiding in titan form unless he thought he had no other choice? ]

—Are you stuck like this?