Chapter Text
Anxiety sits by the deathbed of his mother, innocence, the latter singing a soft lullaby to her sweet child as he cries. Fat tears ran down his chubby cheeks, he didn't want her to go.
The room they were in was created by creativity (with the help of Logic and morality for pointers) in attempt to ensure that Innocence's death bed was fit for a goddess. The walls were a dull white with floral accents, and the lights were dimed. In the center of the room, a gorgeous maple wood platform was placed. It had a thin yet comfortable mattress placed in a cavity within it's center. Atop the mattress is a fluffy blanket, made from the softest fabric the sides could find. A thick layer of lily's and chrysanthemums have been carefully placed over the blanket. And atop of this elaborately designed deathbed, lies innocence, her once light, glowing hair, now a dull cream color.
She was deathly pale, her skin a pasty color, with eyes sunken and grey. Dispite the current circumstances, her voice remained silky, it may have been a tad hoarse, but Virgil couldn't tell, right now he wanted to spend every waking moment with his dear mother.
A few moments later, a stoic logic, a dreary morality, a sobbing creativity, and a teary deceit shuffled quietly into the room. Logic and morality went to Virgil's right, while deceit and creativity to his left. He knew what was to come, he knew that today was the last day, and he knew what the rest of the sides shuffling into the room together ment. In a few moments, innocence would be no more, nothing but a fickle memory and a pile of dust. At this thought, Anxiety let out a gutteral sob, tears and snot running down his face.
"My dear sweet Anxiety," Innocence whispered, " It's gonna be okay, I will be gone soon, and you won't be able to see me again for a very long time." Anxiety sniffled and wiped at his eyes.
" B-but I don' wan' y-you to go-o." the boy wailed, another gutteral sob ripping it's way from his little chest. He couldn't breathe, he was practically hyperventilating.
"Baby, breathe," Innocence implored, "logic will help you, in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8"
Anxiety looked twords logic, big teary doe eyes peering into his soul. He sat down on the ground at gestured anxiety over, he brought anxietys chubby little hand to his chest and exadurated his breathing. After a moment, anxiety was breathing regularly again.
Anxiety leapt from logics lap, and ran to Innocence's side. He grasped her cold, fading palm with both of his hands. Innocence brought the hand anxiety was holding to his soft cheek, stroking it with her near invisible thumb.
" My dear children," she started, " I'm afraid this is going to be where I must leave you" she choked " Morality, deceit, and logic I am sorry I must burden you with the responsibility of raising the children, help each other and treat each other with respect. Take on what you know you can handle, and don't loose your passions. I love you more than you will ever know, And I will visit you in your dreams. I will forever be greatful to you, and I will protect you in whatever form I can form beyond the grave." Innocence pledged with a wet cough
" My little ones, creativity and anxiety, Mommy has to go now. You older siblings will raise and love you. I wish I could stay and raise you, perhaps in another world we could stay together. However, please keep in mind, mommy will visit you in your dreams, and I'll fend off all of the monsters under the bed even when I'm gone" innocence chuckles wetly, gasping for air afterward
Creativity and Anxiety were wailing, they didn't want their mom to leave, they weren't ready. But innocence faded still, she brought a hand to each of their cheeks one by one, stroking an invisible thumb to comfort them.
She landed on Anxiety last, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. He leaned into the touch, clutching the hand on his cheek like a life line. Innocence moved Virgil's hands in front of him, placing something them before returning her hand to his cheek. "I love you all to the world in back, Stay strong my dears" she croaked. With a sudden burst of light, and a small whimper uttered. Innocence was gone as soon as she had came, and anxiety was left with nothing but a dainty bracelet and dust in his small hands. In that moment, dispite being surrounded by his 'brothers' he had never felt more alone.
Anxiety woke with a wet gasp, only to realize that it was just a dream, a memory. But yet the wet tears on his cheeks were very real. And the salty taste lingering on his tounge was also real. He turned to look at the vase of white lily's on his bedside table, he also had dried lavender flowers hanging from the ceiling up against the wall, it helped with his anxiety. But he didn't care about that, all he cared about was the lily's, they reminded him of a better time when he didn't need to be so afraid, when he was still happy, still innocent.
Anxiety arose from his bed, pushing the blanket off of his legs so he could get dressed and fix the makeup he forgot to take off before going to sleep. He checked the time as an after thought, the clock read 4:20 ( weed time /hj ). He stubbled his way through his room, the poor lighting and his lack of 20/20 vision not helping what so ever.
Once in his bathroom he flicked on the light, whining a little at the sudden change in brightness hurting his eyes. He looked at himself in the mirror. pale face? Check. messy hair? Check. Bad posture and thin frame? Double check. A looming sense of existential dread? Fuck yes.
He turned on the sink, letting water pool into his cupped palms before aggressively scrubbing his face to fix the makeup issue. It took a couple of tries, but he managed to get it off.
He then pulled out his eyeshadow palate, foundation, guy-liner, and a chapstick because he did not like being crusty, unlike some people. He spread some foundation under his eyes, dotting it over his cheeks and nose as an after thought. Once he had bended it out, he opened the eye shadow palate, he swatched a dark grey color under his eyes. He hovered the brush over the purple for a moment, before ultimately deciding against it, maybe another time. He drew the liner over his eyelids above his lashes, allowing it to flow more downwards instead of upwards as it's done traditionally.
He gave himself a good hard look in the mirror, making sure it was symmetrical. He deemed it 'good enough' and with a snap, he was in his usual attire. A black jacket and a loose band tee, slipknot to be exact, adorning his lanky frame. With a two fingered salute to his reflection, he was off to raid the cupboards while everyone was asleep. Now theoretically he could summon a quick snack, but stale cubbord food tastes better.