Mane rested in Ursula's arms for a while. Nothing had truly changed in the last almost two weeks- she was still behind enemy lines, each tick of the clock a reminder that every second she lived was on loan. Melody and Ursula didn't change that. They couldn't change that. There was, between the three of them, no possible amount of collective action that could make a difference. She would be found out, or she'd run out of ways to stall, or the affini would give her to an owner who decided her unhappiness was worse than death, and it would all be over. But…she was tired of being sad all the time. This moment, there, on a comfy bed, in Ursula's arms…perhaps this moment was worth the price of admission on its own. 

Mane clung tighter and mewled wordlessly. Ursula squeezed back and purred from somewhere deep in her chest. Mane took her head and pressed it against Ursula, who patted it and rocked her gently back and forth. Ursula's purrs grew deeper and slower. They soothed Mane enough to prevent her from shedding any tears. The two squeezed each other tight for a while. 

"You wanna watch some old, problematic anime together that I've never heard of and rant about how much it sucks?" Asked Ursula with a slight grin. "I'd rather something worth watching, in all honesty, but I know that riffing on stupid bullshit helps you feel better sometimes." Mane was quiet for a bit, collecting herself and thinking about her answer. She sighed and made an attempt to mentally weigh how she felt. It was another few seconds before she said anything back, and when she did it was with an air of mischief about her. 

"Are you sure I'm allowed to even do that~?" Mane asked with a coy grin. She looked up at Ursula's face with a glint in her eyes. "I have to follow a list of all these stuffy rules that Erias wrote for me, after all." Ursula stifled a giggle and ruffled Mane's hair with one hand. 

"And I helped her write them, thank you very much," Ursula snapped back with a toothy grin of her own. "With plenty of explicitly Erias-approved loopholes in your favor, too. We just use my tablet and, presto!" She winked and giggled. "A good third of the rules straight up don't apply anymore. It's like magic! Though…nothing as impressive as that one trick my cub knows." She took her tablet and unlocked it before handing Mane the device. "Speaking of, how many of your pets are you still connected to?" Mane's face fell. 

"Not…none of them. Fell out of contact with them all in rapid succession a few months into my time with my father. I hope they're okay." 

"They're all fine, I'm sure," Ursula reassured her, squeezing Mane close. She pressed Mane's face into her chest, and Mane blushed intensely. It was warm, soft, comfy, pillowy…she mewled with soft little delight. Ursula stroked her hair gently. "In fact, I'm certain you could find a few of them if you looked around and asked about the former members of some of your old haunts online. You have a lot of people who love you, dear. And for good reason too." Mane slowly nodded, warmth returning bit by bit to her stomach. She pondered what to watch with Ursula to kill the time, but any activity now, with her there, would do. Ursula's kindness and gentle touch was more than she could ever ask for. 

—-------

Melody was never sure how to feel on these visits. She clenched her hands into fists. They did this once every two to three weeks or so, and had been doing so for a while. The headset glinted in front of her, its hostile gleam even more intimidating than usual. 

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," whispered Cordelia with a grave worry in her voice. She stood behind Melody, looking down at the long table with chairs and equipment for long range virtual visits.  "If the memories are too painful for you or you have too much on your plate right now, she…she would understand. I promise." 

"No…I have to," Melody insisted. "I made a promise too, Cordelia."  Melody didn't often hesitate the way that was once commonplace for her, but…these moments were an exception. Putting that helmet on was never easy. She took a seat and a deep breath. You can do this Melody, she told herself in her head. It'll be alright. She took the helmet in her hands. She knew she was projecting, that the helmet wasn't the hard part. It was only a convenient symbol that her mind had latched onto. 

"I hate seeing you like this…" Cordelia whispered in pain. Her flowers seemed to lose some of their color, drained of it like her sorrow had physically parasitized them. Her body drooped in a pitiful fashion. "Are you sure there's not a more amenable solution? One that doesn't do…this to you? You already have to get into a voice call with your family every week…" 

"If I come up with one, you'll learn first. I promise," Melody answered. "And you know how much promises mean to me, Cordi." 

"Yeah," Cordelia practically whimpered, "that…that I do." Cordelia reached out with a thin vine of a hand and stroked Melody's face with it. "You're such a sweet floret, little flower. I love you so much." The imitation of a human face that served as Cordelia's mask shifted and scrunched up to indicate she would cry if it were real. She and Melody shared a long, painful look into each other's eyes. "I'm proud of you, little flower. You're brave, and…and strong, and resilient. Life cast you into a gravel road, and despite that you've blossomed into such a caring, sweet thing…I'm honored to call you my first floret. Now and forever." Melody giggled despite herself.

"You stole that metaphor from my ex."

"Was she wrong?"

"And she stole it from the Bible." 

"Okay, maybe a little bit of a poisoning the apple tree deal there, then, but she's still right." 

Melody giggled again and looked down at the helmet in her hands. It wasn't heavy, only weighing in at about two pounds, but it felt so much heavier in her hands, for what it represented. "I suppose there's no use pushing it off any longer…" she murmured to herself. She put the helmet on and took one, two, three deep breaths in. She exhaled, slowly, each time. No panic, no sorrow. Just dread and vague guilt. Judging by Cordelia's gloomy countenance, Melody wasn't alone in feeling that concoction of emotions. She smiled as best she could. "I love you, Cordelia. Hold my hand until I come home?"

"Yes dear," said Cordelia. "Of course. I will cling to you like an otter keeping to seaweed." 

"Wouldn't I be the otter?" Asked Melody. Neither of them laughed. Cordelia took her hand and she closed her eyes. The helmet started up. A small cable extended, met a thin vine extended from Impy. They exchanged information. A slurry of drugs helped ease Melody into the helmet's messages. She was still on the Crest but her consciousness, functionally, was elsewhere. Through a mix of outgoing signals, simulated sensory input, and drugs clouding a few of her brain's processes, Melody was essentially in a robot body now, on another ship farther away. 

She awoke, glad the machinery holding her didn't make her feel it the way one felt their own body. It wasn't crafted to her own taste, after all: by her own choice, it was modeled to another's. She sighed. Her robot body didn't need to breathe, but it did have a mouth. The doll-like chassis, humanoid and reminiscent of a person but clearly not designed to actually look convincingly like one, flexed its fingers. There was no turning back now. She emerged from the pod which held it and consulted a squirrel-like alien that stood outside the room where these temporary bodies were kept. 

"Hey," said robot-Melody (or Me1odiUs, as the model was called). "I'm here to visit Ayle?" The name was pronounced, in spite of its spelling, like the contraction "I'll." The rinan looked her over and nodded. 

"Just this way!" The rinan squeaked with enthusiasm. "She's been expecting you." 

Me1odiUs nodded and followed along. She had no stomach, not really, but she felt a pit in herself all the same. It was voluntary, she reminded herself, she wanted this. Her smooth, flat, metal feet clicked nicely against the ground. She started to go out of her way to flick her "heels" against the smooth chrome floor each step, so as to use the noise to stim. It helped calm her down. 

"Is she doing well?" She asked.

"Wonderfully, of course," the squirrel answered. 

—----

"So there's a boy named Lord, right?" Said Mane, watching Ursula's face to make sure she didn't accidentally pull away into a tangent deeper than the bear girl was comfortable with. This had never happened before, but caution helped. "There are two moments with him that sum up the themes of the game really well. The best is near the end of the game- well, 'the end' of the game," she said, using air quotes the second time, "where a bunch of monsters fuse into this massive demon boar that tries to stop you and no matter what the party does, it just…keeps coming at them. Near the end it has them cornered when a bunch of spears knock it down and this side character comes back with a bunch of cohorts, and they tell you to go save your daughter while they fight it. He's the only normal human who's ever hurt these things, but at this point your entire party are magically empowered freaks and it's clear he's gonna lose. He even has a line with one of his men where they ask how many rules there are about this mission of theirs- and he answers with this ludicrous, specific number. It's awesome." 

"I follow," said Ursula with a grin. "And what's different the second time? Does he win?" 

"Well…the second time through the game, the monsters have subtitles. And just that little change recontextualizes basically every encounter into a horrible tragedy- except Ballsack Chin, nobody loves Ballsack Chin and he'll never see the light of heaven- and in this one you discover all the little monsters that fused into this creature were children, and the bigger ones are trying to protect them. From you. It's absolutely horrible watching this desperate, triumphant struggle against an unstoppable monster become the same thing, but with the heroes as the aggressors. Each of its phase transitions the adults become more and more desperate and afraid- and like, your motivation is to save your daughter! They're just like the hero is, all they want to do is protect their loved ones from this rampaging horror that they don't understand, and…god. It's just…like that, you know? The story was inspired by, uh…are you familiar with nine eleven?" 

"I am aware of nine eleven."  Was Ursula snarking at her? Mane couldn't tell. 

"The guy who wrote the game's story noticed once, while flipping between footage of war and protests during the time afterwards, that if the tv were muted he might not be able to tell which was which. I'm not sure I…buy that, but given what happened in the aftermath…that works too. All it takes to commit an atrocity is to be convinced that it's a net good." Ursula nodded her head. 

"Like your father?"

"Like…" Mane nodded. "And I try not to be that way myself." 

"You're a very good girl." Ursula pulled Mane into a hug and kissed her forehead. "I think you've been excellent, overall, at limiting the way you've hurt someone. Life dealt you an awful hand, and you choose to be gentle in spite of it."

"I…maybe. Maybe I do."

"Good girl. Let's press play, okay?" Mane nodded. Ursula pressed play and a bunch of cute lil magical critters darted onto the screen. 

In the end, Ursula and Mane had gotten sidetracked and then changed their mind about what to watch. This one made Mane feel warm and nostalgic. It was cute, sweet. She felt her guard come down. She was safe. She was loved.

She smiled and leaned on Ursula. Ursula began to tenderly stroke her hair. Mane lost herself in warm memories of having watched this as a child. Of living in…not a better world, but a simpler one. In one where she didn't know about her family's countless evils, or the degree to which all of her siblings had grown up with their humanity splintered. 

But she *was* in a better world, now. In that way, free of her father, with Ursula to protect her, she felt safe like she never had as a child. She was loved, simply, without any strings or guilt. She was forgiven, cherished, treated with kindness and dignity she may never have known. The hours passed by and the two talked a little, each feeling the joy that the other took in feeling their own. The morning's scare slipped out of Mane's mind like a bad dream erased by the mind automatically. 

It was a long, slow, lazy afternoon for both of them. Over time Mane dozed off with her head on Ursula's stomach. She clutched at the smaller girl's body protectively and stroked her hair in hopes to ward off any bad dreams that would dare hurt her.