The reason Faith had always described the story of obtaining her weapon as 'personal' was solely due to the emotive and terrible nature of it. But seeing as they were headed to the dragon lands to meet the mare's old flame Drax, she figured now was as good a time as any to elaborate on it and him.

“Drax is an empath like you, Fear. Which is why I wasn't really... surprised upon learning of your abilities.”

Fear thought about it, it was true Faith had been oddly welcoming, and even familiar with the concept. Acrid was confused, not familiar with empaths in the slightest. Gentler just gazed at Faith curiously – she'd tried to make love to a dragon? Why hadn't she stayed?

“He was sensitive to all sorts of emotions, could easily see them. They'd sear into his retinas and leave him unable to latch onto his own, occasionally making him a mirror to the world around him. He always told me that whenever he looked at me he was overcome with peace and hope for the future despite everything his brethren had been through.” Faith shook her head softly, as if in disbelief, and also trying to clear her head. “Despite all that, he was the kindest dragon you'd ever meet, so intelligent and down to earth. He always had a place in his heart open for you. If I didn't know any better I'd say he'd discovered the alicorn inside himself long ago. He desperately wanted to take care of his people, hold them up and bring them prosperity.” Faith trailed off after hyping the dragon up a bit.

“There were two weapons in that facility, the names of which we learned later – the Alicannon and the Alicorsair. The Alicorsair was a state of the art security... drone? That could fire various spells, was mentally linked to whoever controlled it, and had holographic and cloaking capabilities. It could take recon and play it back, and was holotape compatible.” Faith was pulling it all from the dark recesses of her memory, the information they'd learned from playing around with the two artifacts. “The facility they were held in was inundated in a field of hopelessness, and monsters had spawned due to it, some more visceral than others. It was a result of the warring between dragons and ponies decades ago. I was able to endure it due to my past as a preacher, my faith in the good book. I kept Drax stable while he dealt with the monsters proper and guided us further in.

Fear was still dwelling a bit on two things Faith had said. One, that the story was terrible in nature, and two, the cloaking technology. That was strange. He was familiar with stealthbucks but how could you make a permanent cloaking tool? That's zebra tech isn't it?

Faith started in on the story.

==========================================================================================

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VagES3pxttQ

Drax was a majestic bipedal creature, though his knees hardly ever straightened despite that. He was sleek, slender, and graceful, with just the right bit of tonal definition to his muscles. Covered in pronounced, durable crimson scales that could take multiple piercings or rakes, or even straight up gunshots. Faith always admired that about him, his sheer versatility and dynamism. The way his sharp ivory claws gouged through earth, metal, and crystal alike. His tail was usually jerking to one side, rather erratic and slithering, undulating in the most heated moments. It blossomed into three fishy petals on the tip, which gave him the impression of a powerful swimmer. Garnet hued stripes scarred the sides of his body on every limb, and along his abdomen and chest, marring his beautiful form with a sense of raw, untameable strength. His muzzle tapered to a point, the fangs uneven and jagged, proper for a lithovore/carnivore such as himself, capable of eating meat or various stones. Rumbling, curved ridges flowed over his brows, with rosy spiked spines trailing back from them, meeting at the top of his head and gliding down along the vertebral column past wide, similarly colored leather wings. Ivory claws, sharp enough to carve through steel, covered his hands and feet.

The dragon's two best features, the features Faith revered the most however, were his vibrant violet irises and magnetizing, slitted alabaster pupils, roaring with charged up magic, and the second being his sly, prodding smirk. Rather incorrigible overall, yet immensely attractive.

Faith hummed, something she was prone to do, her eyes gazing down the hill-ish compound. “So you really think this place has something that'll help you, Draxxy?” Faith took a glance at him, watching his rippling, subtle muscle.

Drax grinned slightly, eyes lidding, alabaster pupils taking in everything. “Yeah. This was a well guarded facility.” The dragon bared a fang, arms crossed over his chest, tail sweeping from side to side.

“It's going to be really strange going through a place with less color than the wasteland.”

“Yeah,” Drax replied, “the atmosphere's heavy too. It's prickling at my mind. Just looking at it makes me feel a sense of pure despair. I almost want to close my eyes.” He stared at Faith instead, taking in her pink hair, devoid of silver streaks, still young. “But at least I have you.”

Faith bat a hoof at him, smiling brightly. “Stop it you flatterer.” She shook her head a bit. “You're sweet.”

“It's the truth, you're always there for me. I regret that one day we'll need to part ways.”

Faith stayed silent, which continued for a solid minute as they were left with their own thoughts. “Anyways, we should get going. It's time for adventure, not time for regret.” Faith gave her flanks a bounce, Friendship City themed saddlebags readjusting. And with that they headed down.

Muggy, watery atmosphere clogged their lungs, leaving lumps in their throats, suffusing and subsuming their bodies in weight. It was an exhausting experience that had no end, and going deeper in just made it worse. Faith stayed strong, and Drax occasionally looked to her, staying close to her for strength and support. He appreciated her more than he could ever define. She was his light.

Faith felt the same way about him, though less strongly. She was independent enough to know she could get by on her own - had for years.

Buildings meant for residence and office space were inset against the slope the compound was built on. Stairwells lead further down, running along the middle with sandbag barriers lining here and there. The normally pastel world was submerged in monochrome. What was once colorful shrubbery and vibrantly dual hued sands were now chromatically flat and boring. The thin, trickling strands of previously vivid magma blossoming from indentations in the earth here and there, would've appeared as capillary blood vessels from far away in the distant past. Once lively mosses and lichen taking residence on ancient pieces of basalt rock were left drab and dreary. It was hard to believe there were still any nutrients at all, difficult to comprehend how anything could still be alive. Everything that did have that characteristic was either stock still as if winds could never jostle them, or limping weakly as if they had no strength left to stand.

Drax occasionally carried Faith across lava flows, holding her body on his shoulders to make it easier for them both to cross. Drax wasn't even slightly burned by the motionless lava. It felt like a warm bath actually, or at least it would if it didn't chill him to the bone from how hopeless it all felt. They stayed close to the sides of the compound, avoiding some of the revolving turrets, which resembled more like ancient draconic maws, once holding cannons now morphed into void eyes.

For the ones they couldn't avoid, all Drax had to do was take a gander at Faith and feel the strength pulse through him like drinking a vitality potion. Then fly into the air swiftly, spiral around before it could realize his presence, and crash down into it, raking his claws through it, severing wires and destroying machinery with ease, crushing it beneath his weight and muscle.

Leaning watchtowers made of crisscrossing wood threatened to spill over onto the ground like Jenga. Aging spotlights sagged from above, dusty and rusty, with old intercoms on poles that doubled as alarm systems in the same state. On top of each watchtower was a wibbly wobbly colt or filly, as if made of unstable soul magic. They drifted around the canopy aimlessly, not even seeing anything like roaming spirits, never quite latching on or focusing, just existing and hardly even doing that. Like lost souls trapped in limbo. There was no cognizance in them, so Drax and Faith left them alone when they passed by them. It was unclear what their purpose was, or how they'd gotten there, or even what they represented. That factor just unnerved Faith and Drax even more. It was strange how something so benign yet out of place could reach so deeply and chew up security.

Looking into buildings just showed more of them. Their eyes were whitewashed and tainted with engorged blood vessels. Being up close they could see they had long, gangly limbs, explaining why they could be seen up high from below. The joints were oddly position so the legs couldn';t bend the right way. Swollen tongues that were once purple dangled from their mouths, their blue-gray faces bloated and looking ready to pop. Drax and Faith decided to stop looking inside the buildings. If there was a key, they agreed to ignore it and just cut their way through the doors, even if weapons fired at them.

The moment one glanced their way and stared into their souls made it feel like ice water was trickling down their spines. Getting the heebie jeebies, they immediately moved on.

The Equestrian flag was flashy normally, with a candy red background underneath a curly bitonal sun with a crescent moon inlaid. Now the ones displayed here and there on the base were no more than ashen rags, no longer did they have the same luxuriousness they used to. At the base of the slope was a set of mine tracks leading underground, with a gate closing it off. Nearby that was a slot in the wall with a machine gun nest, and next to it a once locked door leading further in.

A tiny filly with the same unnatural legs was standing in the nest, just... staring. Everything felt like it was in the depths of the ocean. Soggy, thick mire.

Drax and Faith looked into each other's eyes uncertainly, their mouths screwed up in frayed nerves. “You think it even realizes we're here?” Faith queried nervously.

Drax shook his head. “Probably not. If so they would have done something by now. However whatever creatures we find here might be more dangerous, so we have to be careful.”

Faith hummed. “What do you think the reason for their appearances is?”

Drax cocked his head to the side. “Why? What's wrong with them? I just see a blank faced mare in military gear.”

Faith shuddered, her legs quivering. “I'm seeing a dead looking filly with a grayed out cutiemark. It looks more like a shadow of something living than an actual creature. Like a ghost.”

“Huh.” Drax looked back at the filly. Or was it mare? “Maybe the reason why I'm seeing it as it is, is because of my sixth sense? The emotions are incredibly volatile though. Depressing. It's harsh.”

Faith jolted her head to look in Drax's direction. “Did the turrets look like dragon faces to you in that case?”

“No. Did they look like that to you?”

“Yeah.” Faith's ears flicked. “Their eyes were literal voids. The lasers came from them. I know because the only one that managed to get a shot off at you... did.”

“Well that's strange, but they look like normal turrets to me, only whenever I gaze at them I get this feeling that I'm definitely going to die and there's nothing I can do. That's why I have you.”

Faith couldn't help but smile a little. “You're cute, and it's making this whole situation feel a little less horrible.”

Drax shrugged, flashing a charming smile, before making his way over to the locked door leading inward, lifting his claws, and thrusting them deep into the door with his palms facing outward. They went so deep his fingers sliced through to the other side. Tightening his tendons, his fingers gripped down into the metal door, his claws securing the hold, and with one deft movement and a roar Drax ripped the thing right off its hinges, throwing it up into the air so hard it crashed into the cliff face away from them.

Faith sidled up next to him, brushing against his side. “Ooh, big strong muscle dragon.” She lidded her eyes and simpered at him. “My big buff savior.”

Drax grinned from ear to ear and shoved a thumb against his chest. “Don't you know it.” And soon enough they were headed inside, Drax leading the way.

“You know we could've just jumped over the machine gun nest,” she sassily reminded.

Drax guffawed. “But that's not nearly as provocative.”

Faith giggled. “True enough you raging ball of steroids. There'll be enough opportunities to prove yourself to me in due time.” It wasn't common Drax showed off like that, but he always did it most often in dark situations to lighten the mood. It was something Faith adored.

A little deeper inside was a large cavern with metal girders for arches, a railway trailing down the center for transportation of large containers and other supplies running from Equestria proper toward the labs. Pipes ran along the walls. The two wished they could hear something moving through them, but alas, everything was still incredibly quiet.

Except for the new creatures patrolling the area. Spindly, unnaturally twisted tortoises that cracked with every subtle motion, their mouths more like yawning chasms when open. Ugly, sharp chapped lips, drugged eyes that dilated to Tartarus and back, and tails where the vertebra undulated with every flick. Big flappy necks full of wrinkles gyrated on the spot, as if they couldn't stop swallowing excessive saliva. Their shells were patterned strangely, with the illusion of endless corridors and pits that incessantly dove further in, Drax's eyes nearly being lost in their depths forever even when just his peripheral caught them.

It was less unnerving and more entrancing. But still out of place. Faith immediately latched onto Drax's arm with sticky hooves and pulled him away, around the halted train sitting on the tracks, and jogging him from the sight. “Come on, stay with me Drax. It's okay.” She gave him a wink.

“Y... yeah. Right.” Drax's gaze pulled away from the strange creature. Faith was tempted to ask him what he'd seen, but figured she'd rather not know. It was probably some kind of mental elemental monster with a changed form. That was her guess.

As they continued, Faith often saw yellow eyed shadows out of the corner of her eye, always needing to spare a second glance to see if she really was seeing color or it was her imagination. Either way, they were sickly and torturously jagged shades, silent and flat yet always elongating into her vision in awkward ways. The more she focused on them, the more they seemed to flow over her to reach into her most private crevices. Curling around pipes and slithering out from under the train cars when she least expected it.

Faith was sure it was trying to pull out her sanity. She felt violated. It canceled out noise like a room filled with sound absorption panels. “Drax do you see those?”

“You mean the mosquitos? Yeah they're really annoying.” Now that Faith focused on him she could tell he was swiping his claws around to slice through some as they came, trying to bat them out of the air. “They're always hiding in the corner of my vision. It's frustrating.” His voice was on edge.

Faith let out a sigh of relief. “Is that all they are? Good.”

“Why, what were you seeing?”

Faith rubbed a foreleg as they continued on. “I'd rather not say. It's too weird.”

Drax let it slide, staring ahead of them as they proceeded down the tunnel. As the dragon tried to bat the 'mosquitos' out of the air, they eventually made it to a large open factory. It was a vast industrial plant filled with conveyor belts and construction machinery, including tools for tiny, dexterous attachments and automated soldering – nearby that was a storage room for various parts put together elsewhere in Equestria. Looking closely they could see so many doors, but it required moving through the factory, around different machinations and processors to get to. The shadows (or were they mosquitos?) were becoming far less frequent.

Faith nudged Drax in the side, before pointing up toward the ceiling on one of the larger machines. He grunted and followed her hoof, color nearly draining from him at the sight.

A heather gray timberwolf, looking like languidly moving static, stood tall staring at them. Its tongue lolled and drooled oily saliva, its eyes constantly shifting with a visual doppler effect, trying to yank them into place and put them underfoot where they belong, a ceaseless oppression. It seemed more like an alpha without a pack, and it was lowly growling. Its tail whipping back and forth.

Drax got low to the ground, snarling at it. “Come on bitch,” he sneered, lunging forward onto his left foot, tail dragging across the ground and snapping to the side.

The timberwolf snarled right back and pounced, hindlegs lifting it off the piece of machinery and its weight carrying it down and forward. It bared its rock talons and sharp splinter teeth, intending to bite down into Drax.

Drax saw it coming. He ducked, stepped forward, thrust his hand into the air, his own claws shredding through the timberwolf's underbelly and exposing its plant guts. The dragon didn't stop, spinning around and grasping the timberwolf's tail before flowing into a spin, picking up momentum, making it sail over Faith's head. With one easy move he jerked his hands to the side, snapping the tail off and sending the wooden body flying into a conveyor belt where it cracked apart, monochrome flowers and fungus seeping out of the hole in its side.

It stayed there for moments on end, its eyes fizzing away as it pawed at the ground, whimpering from being so easily manhandled and destroyed, its body falling apart at the seams. Then it went still.

Faith wrapped Drax up in a giant hug, shushing him, able to see the look of agony on his face. “You didn't have any choice Drax. It attacked us first.”

Drax grumbled sourly. “But I taunted it.”

Faith giggled. “But you knew it intended to attack us from the start. I know you Drax, you wouldn't have done so otherwise. You're a kind, peaceful dragon.” The mare's next word dragged out for a long time, her voice smooth, silky, and slithering into Drax's ears, calming him down. “Reeeelaaaaaaaax...”

The two continued on soon after, once Drax's heart was restored to its proper state, exploring the different rooms with a curious vigor. One open door led to a circular library with a stained glass skylight, now made up of various dull gunmetal grays. It went up multiple floors with cascading spiral stairs. The shelves contained research books, some “newly” written and others ancient. Given neither were too interested in looking through tomes of long forsaken knowledge, they headed back. Across from the library was a stairwell leading toward some dank prison cells, some filled with the remnants of changeling carapace and basic necessities. Which is where they met more ghosts of the past. Figures. Ebony changelings with static compound eyes and lifeless, thousand yard stares, seeming more like statues than living creatures. Less kept alive, and more like snapshots of the past that remain undying. Frozen in place and time with flawless posture and clenched jaws. Something about it all seemed strangely... soggy. Like a dithered photograph leaking aspirations into the void. There was a vacancy to them, as if they were abandoned houses once for rent, now just laying dormant until someone came to tear them down. They remained in their cells, one to each. Fatigued and motionless.

Drax and Faith immediately left, contemplating the implications behind it. There had been syringes and other siphoning tools laying around on the ground. Drax was by far the most disturbed of the two. Knowing ponies were performing experiments on potential enemies seemed... like a war crime. How many higher ups knew? Did anypony know? Had it been passed by their superiors? Or was it in secret? What price was to be paid for progress?

Back at the engineering lab, inset into a corner was a door leading to a place with various large machines meant for purifying metal and fastening quartz to allow for greater magical conduction. Not that Faith nor Drax understood the majority of what they were seeing. Science, magic, and technology were not their forte.

At the opposite side from the entrance to the production line was a locked pneumatic door that Drax made swift work of, tearing his claws through it at a rabid pace like a fierce, wild animal. Clawing out chunks and slicing through metal like it was cake. It buckled, strained, and fell under his assault, casually caving in as if it had been a wooden door a powerful earth pony bucked into oblivion.

Faith still admired Drax's gentle strength. Unafraid to defend. A formidable foe toward anything.

Lining the hallway beyond were various doors, one leading to a reading lounge full of colorless dead planters and once lavish, gaudy couches now just places of comfort, with framed environmental paintings sapped of hue. Another door led to a strange machine that neither adventurer could discern to be an oversized melanger. After that was a door leading to a small cafeteria. Everything began to blur, passing by a pristine operating room complete with all the necessary equipment including specialized tools for extracting magic, so clean it appeared unused. Next was a dual purpose testing chamber/firing range. There had been terminals intermittently, but given there was hardly any method for accessing their contents it was useless to examine them.

Now and then they'd seen one other creature during their explorations that they chose to leave alone. What Faith saw were enlarged hovering catfish with mirror flesh, reflecting what once was and never would ever again be like a funhouse mirror, whiskers wavering in the air and reflecting light. Not nearly the most traumatizing thing Faith had seen up to this point, but it was enough that they left well enough alone. Primarily because Drax wasn't violent as a rule. Self-defense was important, but only because he knew the hurt of loss. His entire species had been nearly eradicated after all.

The end of the hallway contained another pneumatic door leading outside, to a large pit with a small spire in the middle. It was expensive looking, and incredibly fragile, with various extensions protruding from its sides, all having an air of importance. In the front of the spire was a terminal with a data printer next to it, some folded up paper unraveling from inside. On the other side of the pit was a vault door.

On top of the spire however, glaring down at them, was a vulture that looked like it belonged on a totem pole. Excessive radiation surrounded it, and it was the only thing with color they'd seen up to this point. While Faith saw its head as a skull, Drax would later tell Faith that it was made of metal. A guardian of the area.

The vulture's eyes lit up with simmering red light, and then searing lasers bzorped out right at Faith. Drax hadn't felt it coming – it was a machine – but he'd seen it, and shoved Faith out of the way, right off her hooves and across the ground. Drax's wings beat hard multiple times in quick succession, as he immediately took to the air.

It was a glorious battle of rolls, dives, swoops, and twists, one that was beyond organic and machine. A dance of reaction time and eyes, not emotions. Of reflexes and dodges that Faith couldn't keep up with, but Drax always seemed to be one step ahead of. It wasn't too long before he crashed into it, thrusting his claws inside its stomach and rending it apart, tearing it in half and sending both plummeting toward the ground, its mechanical gears and innards, springs bouncing out, everything crashing to the ground in a grotesque heap.

Drax hung in the air for awhile, flapping his wings, before gliding back down to the ground and reaching out for one of Faith's hooves, lifting it up and bending down to tenderly kiss it.

Faith made her way over to the terminal screen, noticing it was displaying notifications now. “INTRUDER ALERT. INITIATING GUARDIAN.EXE.” Then, “GUARDIAN.EXE ERROR. PLEASE RESTART”

“Faith.” Drax mumbled, setting a hand on Faith's shoulder. “Most of the hopeless magic is radiating out from this thing. I can feel it in my bones.” The preacher felt the dragon shudder above her, glancing up at him.

“Well it's fine, we're almost out of here.” She scanned over the keys, looking past the spire at the vault door, before typing in some commands, trying various things. “Seems it wasn't locked with a password, good for us.”

Drax shook his head. “You know I could just claw my way through it anyway right? But it's probably because they thought the guardian would be enough, whatever that was.” He snorted lightly, sparing a glance at the magic-infused vulture. Now nothing but a pile of irradiated wreckage.

==========================================================================================

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gMh44JVq6uA

“And that's where we found the Alicorsair and Alicannon. Drax took the former with him, and he told me to take the latter with me. They had lost their color, but I am sure he's brought the color back to his weapon quickly enough. We spent awhile practicing with them, learning how they functioned and what to do with them.” Faith nodded once, finishing the story.

Fear was impressed. She hadn't been much of a help at all, but he knew from her stories travelling the wastes that she was anything but vulnerable. Her charisma helped with that, to get her in close. It was also strange imagining a younger version of his motherly friend.

Gentler huhed. “Why'd you and Drax split up? According to your story both of you got along perfectly and he really enjoyed protecting you?”

Faith rubbed her head with a hoof, humming. “That was... part of the problem actually. I wanted to be independent. I have a habit of relying on others even though I'm perfectly capable of being alone. Also I was young back then and I needed to move on. Whereas Drax needed to stay behind and look after his kind. He was on his way to becoming their leader.” She gave a small smile. “It was a matter of what both of us needed most out of life. We left on good terms.”

Hearing about Faith and Drax's relationship brought back a memory to his mind of his and his sister's relationship. The few times they'd bickered with each other and Sim bursting out laughing. Amelio was clear and succinct when she asked 'are we some kind of entertainment to you?' with a huff in her voice. It was cute.

Fear missed Amelio. Would he ever move on?

The young stallion glanced to Faith, remembering something of her. He recalled her telling him she had faith in everyone, no matter who it was. If they lived, she believed. He knew she believed in him. Had since the start, would until the end of time.

A smile graced his lips as the conversation continued and he focused on other things.

==========================================================================================

Ugh. Sleeping was so difficult lately. Fear couldn't pass out no matter how hard he tried. Even a day spent traveling wasn't enough to conk him out. Which sucked because...

Fear curled up into a ball, crossing his forelegs and holding his hindlegs against his belly. He still felt ugly inside. Fear reached out with his magic to the blade by his saddlebags and floated it to him, using pathokinesis to funnel some positive emotions into the blade. It was a comforting practice, akin to taking care of his mother's rifle. Emotion coursed through the opalescent quartz lining the blade.

Acrid's voice was unexpected. “What are you doing up?”

Fear looked up, rolling over and seeing the stallion, a couple years older than him, laying on his stomach, head raised.

“I heard your magic activate. It's strange to see you looking so dour.”

Fear's lower lip pushed out, eyes glassy. “I'm just feeling ugly. Not good enough. You know?”

Acrid hummed, picking it up from Faith. “I know you're a bug, but why would that make you feel ugly?”

The young stallion knew there was a compliment hiding in there somewhere. “I feel like an imposter I suppose,” he whispered, “like I'm not everything everyone tells me I am. Like I'm fooling everyone into liking me.” That my past sins are my real defining trait.

Acrid glanced away from Fear, narrowing his eyes. “I don't think it matters honestly, whether you're an imposter or not. I grew up in a society where it was what you could do for your nation rather than what your nation could do for you. It was envied to be of use, to be successful.” Acrid paused. “So as far as I'm concerned as long as you've been of use that's all that matters, you can't possibly be that ugly.” Acrid looked back to Fear, then pointed to the screw necklace. “Where'd you get that necklace anyway? It seems unnatural somehow.” By the tone of his voice, it had clearly been eating at him for awhile. “It's a strange thing to be carrying with you either way. A weird fashion statement.”

Fear chewed on his response for a bit. Literally, as he squinted a bit. “When I oppose others, I see myself. I see what I could have become. When I face opposition in life I see what I truly am.” His eyes widened a bit in realization. Maybe his feelings of being an imposter were irrational? But how could he stop feeling like that? There had to be some truth to it if it nagged at him so hard. “I guess I usually define myself by my struggles? And live in spite of them.” He hadn't considered that line of thought for a couple years. “Screws and spirals are the same. They continue twirling forward no matter what, and are defined by the paths they're able to carve out. Change, healing, reinforcing. Potentially destroying. Creating. I guess...” He huffed. “When I see it I'm reminded of who I'm supposed to be and what I wish to be.”

Acrid chuckled. “Yeah smartass, but where'd you get it? It doesn't look... normal.”

Fear huffed, even harder, before starting up a conversation about Princess Luna.

==========================================================================================

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-OUTQcu6po

Saway watched Fear with a kind yet violent glare. “It's always a pleasure to see you nowadays Fear. You always warm my cold heart.” The behavior was new to Fear.

“You know, before you became all sappy I used to always wish to be badass like you. You always seemed to know just how to act to get across your point.” The young stallion looked askew. “I've been wanting to feel better about myself lately, so I'm curious. How can I be badass like you usually are?”

Saway's eyes contracted, staring into Fear's soul. “Hmm... well. It's a case of badass versus edgy. Silent versus big mouth. Actions speak louder than your words ever will. You want to keep speeches to a minimum, Presence speaks louder than threats. Be there, announce yourself only if you need to. Be simple and quippy if you want to be humorous and lighten the mood. Be a rock in hard times, not a wibbly wobbly edgelord who's all talk.”

Fear dwelled on that, listening intently.

“Don't blather on about your pain or how you go about things unless someone asks. A good creature doesn't want to talk about how they've messed up or how they're going to do the things they hate doing while being a leader, not unless they're being a kindhearted teacher. It's simple in practice, but it takes some getting used to when you're young and impulsive.” Saway nodded once, confirming it, while holding a hoof against her chest. Her mulberry mane hung over her eyes by a bit. Clumps scattered about.

Fear was a little intense in that moment, boring a hole into Saway with his gaze. “Huh, really? I guess I'll have to try to think of some witty quips when I come to the rescue.”

Saway rolled her eyes. “Only if you're meant to lighten the mood, Fear. It has to come from the heart, in the moment. Otherwise it's all about letting your aura speak for itself. Remain short and sweet.” Saway reached out and ruffled Fear's mane. “You'll get it if you practice.”

==========================================================================================

“It's good to see you little Fear.” Luna's voice had a dose of amusement to it, a bemused smile spread across her face. Her body might've been dilapidated but her eyes were strong, powerful. “I had something I wished to speak with you about.”

Fear's hooves clopped under him, though it was more a feeling than a sound. “Really? What's that?” He still had that coltish curiosity and charm from when he was younger, and always would.

“I've been finding... monsters in the dreamscape as of late.”

“Monsters?” Fear queried. “What kind of monsters? What kind of monsters could exist here that aren't a product of our subconscious?”

Luna grinned, then frowned. “I am not sure. I'm still investigating it. They seem to be creeping into dreams and feeding off of those who sleep. Siphoning power. I keep blasting the parasites away, but dreamkiller does not work. I have to use actual spells.” She shook her head. “Based on their appearance, I call them Surreal. I just wanted to tell you because...” She appeared uncertain, a hoof lifting into the air, eyes jerking to the side. “I might need your help with it soon. If I cannot find the source I'm going to need extra hooves on deck where I can get them. It's tiring to fight them off so constantly.”

Fear got the distinct impression that things were going to get worse from here on out.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ety0oYhKNg

I recently had a conversation with a friend about what makes a good character and how to represent a character's personality. I think it's all in the behavior and how characters interact with everything ranging from a fight all the way to, for example, interacting with loved ones while at a water park. It's all in the reactions, and how you carry yourself. Sass is part of it, but sass isn't the sole personality trait.

Realistic characters need to grow or regress. Some characters are the way they are because they manipulate their environment, while other characters are manipulated BY their environment. Imo the best characters are ones who do both. Ones who grow, regress, grow again, have setbacks, and are constantly trying to impact the world around them at the same time. A stagnant character who is already as good as they can possibly be is... probably by its very nature, edgy. Because it's arrogant. To think you've hit your peak and you can no longer learn or grow. Or that you'll never have off days.