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Macaque didn’t make a habit of lying.
Words are important. They can soothe, they can scar, hurt, and heal. Macaque knows exactly how to phrase his sentences, when to add just enough bite to the truth in order to make the words really hit someone in the chest. He has no need of lying, most of the time.
Which is why he hates the fact that he can no longer control the words coming out of his mouth, much less how they’re said.
Today is definitely going to be a bad day.
Truth spells are finicky things. The definition of “truth”, after all, depends on the caster. Some truth spells still allow you to lie by omission, but won’t allow for sarcasm. Others will allow sarcasm, but not over embellishment. It all depends on what the spell caster views as “telling the truth”.
In the case of the amulet that had smacked him in the head this morning, the definition of “truth” seemed to be “anything contrary to the actual truth or emotion”. Which, apparently, meant no sarcasm, and no false tones of voice. (As well as- no don’t think about it don’t t h i n k about it- Focus on the dark. Breath in. Breath out.)
It was the second one, “no false tones of voice”, that was giving him trouble.
Macaque had made a habit of being overdramatic in his speech, it helped his sentences flow better, and made intimidating others easier. However, this was not his true form of speech- or at least not what the spell viewed as his true self’s speech, which, to be fair, even Macaque himself viewed his overdramatics as good acting, so he supposed the spell wasn’t far off on that.
(He was a little peeved that he couldn’t use his evil laugh anymore though, he had worked hard to get it to replace his real laugh the majority of the time, and now he was right back to step one).
Still, the fact he could now only speak in either quiet and soft tones, with no control over it, made things a little… difficult.
(He had used to speak like that all the time when he was younger, even when excited or mad. It kept his ears from hurting. He’d long since overcome that little issue, but he did have to admit that the quieter tone was relieving a slight pressure on his hearing that he didn’t even realize was there).
Now, normally, something as simple as a little truth spell wouldn’t be enough to make Macaque panic. The past few times it had happened, he’d simply hidden out until the effects had worn off, or had merely kept going about his usual actions as though nothing was wrong (nobody had even noticed, those times. Macaque doesn’t make much of a habit of lying anyways- even if he was uncomfortable with having his option of choice removed, the spell back then didn’t affect his tone of speech, so the fact he was spelled in the first place had gone completely under the radar). This one, however, was different. This affected him in a way truth spells had never done so before.
And, unlike the previous times, where he’d been spelled either accidentally or through his own stupidity, he was incredibly certain that this was premeditated.
Magical truth spell amulets don’t just fall from the sky, after all.
No, someone planned this. Someone wants to know something about him, something they don’t think he would already admit.
And, in complete, albeit forceful, honesty, that scares him.
Normally, in this case, he’d hide out in his dojo, or out in a cave, or something, until the effects wore off, his own magic eating the spell- using it as extra fuel to keep him running. But ever since the Lady Bone Demon fiasco, not only had his dojo gotten destroyed in the mess, but his magic had been a little… off. Not nearly by enough that he figured it’d be a concern, but definitely in a way that it would take a lot longer for it to eat the truth spell than it normally would- as long as he went without a secondary source of power to make his magic stronger, that is. He wouldn’t be able to hide out in a cave for that long- not without having to leave to find food, which would make him susceptible to getting intercepted by whoever had done this to him.
So no, hiding out was no longer an option.
Which left him with two choices. There were only two places nearby with enough ambient magical energy that would strengthen his own magic to the point where it could properly feed upon and destroy the spell that had been placed on him at a normal speed. And, well… one of them would certainly work faster, but he really didn’t want to go there right now. If this was some other kind of spell, then maybe, but a truth spell??
There was no way he was going to go to Flower Fruit Mountain like this.
Which left him with the slightly slower option: Pigsy’s Noodle Shop.
He’s not sure if the kid and the others even realize that them all frequenting that place has made it become a magical energy hot spot. He’s even less sure of if it became a hot spot before or after MK got the staff. In all honesty, it could have been either way.
Decision made, there’s only one problem left for him to face, one he has been desperately trying not to think about ever since he’d temporarily hidden himself in the closet of his dojo to calculate his next move (hey, the darkness was comforting to him, don’t judge), chewing on the edge of his scarf in an attempt to calm down.
And that is that the spell has removed his ability to use his glamours.
His hair now fell long around his shoulders, greasy and somewhat matted, the tips burned in some areas due to his proximity with the Samadhi fire when it had activated. He had initially been glamouring it just due to not having had the time to brush it properly before interacting with MK and the others, but once the Lady Bone Demon had gotten her cold, dead hands on him, he had not even had the chance to brush and wash his hair. Her chains had allowed him quick dips into lakes and rivers and nothing more, pulling him out after a few seconds had passed.
It had been weeks since then, and sure, Macaque could have just taken a shower and washed his hair at any given time, but with his glamours up he usually just forgot about it, and when he did remember it felt like there was some kind of mental wall blocking him from fulfilling the necessary actions, so he didn’t bother to try.
One of his ears flicked as he tucked a stray hair behind it to keep it from falling on his face. That was another glamourless issue- all six of his ears were on full display. He rubbed at them a little as he sunk down a bit, curling up more in the darkness as he considered what to do.
He could put on a hoodie, pull it over his hair and ears and no-one would be the wiser. In fact, that was likely what he would simply have to do, if he went through with this plan.
But that would still….It would still leave….
…His eye.
No matter what, not even makeup could hide the scar, not to mention the glaringly obvious foggy white blind eye.
Out of all three of the things he had listed, his eye was the one he wanted to show the least, and yet it was the only one he could not think of a reasonable way to hide. A hat could shadow it, yes, but a blind eye was too obvious to be fully hidden by shadows, not unless he twisted them to purposefully cover it, and, well… He had tried that earlier, and, to put things simply, the spell had not taken kindly to it.
(His body had shaken with aftershocks from his attempt to fight against the spell for a full half hour).
He supposed he could try covering that side of his face with some form of fabric, and claiming he got injured there or that it was a new fashion trend- except he couldn’t really do that, could he. Not being able to lie and all that. Genuinely, why was it that during the occasion he’d need to be capable of lying the most that he had lost all ability to do so? Karma really was coming for him, it seemed.
Almost as if to confirm that statement, Macaque’s ears twitched as he heard the sound of a door opening. The door to his dojo opening, to be exact. He tensed, doing his best to squeeze himself deeper into the dark corner of the closet that he had found himself in, holding his breath and straining his ears as he attempted to figure out who it was. The breathing and the heartbeat sounded familiar, but Macaque hadn’t entirely shaken himself out of his thought cycle yet, and couldn’t make out if it was familiar in a bad way or a good way.
Either way, he didn’t want to risk some random person seeing him like this.
He drew the shadows in closer around him as the footsteps drew nearer to his bedroom, as well as the closet he was hiding in.
It was only when the person crossed the threshold into his room that he realized that doing so was entirely pointless, and he quickly changed tactics, quickly reaching up and pulling a hoodie off of a clothes hanger, just in case.
This ended up being a mistake, as the hanger, knocked unsteady by the sudden movement, fell off the metal bar it had been resting on, Macaque scrambling and pressing himself closer against the back of the closet to avoid it hitting him, leading to it clattering onto the floor. Macaque pressed his ears back closer to his head at the sudden noise, barely keeping himself from hissing. The footsteps in the room paused.
And then the closet door was swinging open, and Macaque did hiss, his scarf falling out of his mouth as he covered his eyes from the sudden light, frantically shoving on the hoodie and pulling the hood up over his head as he did so.
From the doorway, MK tilted his head to the side as he stared at him, confused.
“I must say, out of all the places I expected to find you, I didn’t expect a closet to be one of them.” He said, leaning up against the side of the door. “Any particular reason you’re curled up in here like some anti-social cat?”
Now, normally Macaque would just say that it was comfy in the darkness. Which, technically, that wasn’t a lie at all, it, in fact, was quite comfy to be curled up in the closet.
But saying “it’s comfy”, was not his first thought in response to that question, and thus, the spell would not allow it.
“I can’t lie.” Is what Macaque said instead; shrinking back further into the darkness when MK raised an eyebrow, whether at the actual sentence, how it was said, or at Macaque’s behavior, Macaque didn’t know. He would’ve stood himself up and tried to portray himself as more confident like usual if it weren’t for the fact he was, admittedly, just a little tiny bit scared it’d send those bolts of painful magic electricity shooting through his veins again.
“...Really?” MK seemed distrustful, which was fair, considering all the shit Macaque had pulled in the past. “Why not?”
“Spell.” Was all Macaque said- not wanting to speak very much. He was sure that if he allowed himself to ramble away or to formulate longer sentences, he’d either end up revealing something about himself that he actually didn’t want particularly revealed, or MK would end up questioning him on why his tone of voice has suddenly drastically changed, and Macaque doesn’t want to delve into that whole mess.
MK rolled his eyes at the simple answer.
“You know, if you’re trying to come up with ways to avoid the weekly check-ins-” Shit, that was today? “-you’re going to have to get some better material.” He said, taking a step into the closet.
“I’m not lyi-” Macaque started- then cut himself off with a yelp as MK easily lifted him up, throwing him over his shoulder to carry him. In the back of his mind, Macaque wondered why MK hadn’t questioned the scar and blind eye he was likely completely able to see, but the front of his mind was entirely dedicated to squirming, kicking, and trying to scratch at MK. “Put me down!!”
“Man, Sandy was not making stuff up when he made that feral cat comparison.” MK muttered, completely unphased by Macaque’s attempts to get him to let go, keeping the monkey in place with one hand as he used the other to summon his staff. “Come on now, we’re going to the Noodle Shop, you can try your excuses again there.”
Macaque very nearly growled, before giving up, letting himself lay limp, a near dead weight- up until MK used the staff to vault up into the air, and Macaque quickly gripped onto the back of MK’s jacket, sinking his claws in to make sure he wouldn’t fall.
Well. He had to admit, even if this was nearly terrifying enough to make his magic-laced heart start beating again, at least it was better than the 4 hours of deliberation in the closet he would’ve likely ended up doing.
Nothing left other than to get this whole thing over with.
(Sure, it’d be over with even faster if he went to the mountain, but he was still going to save that as a last resort).
All too soon (with far too little time to prepare), MK came to a stop, landing on the ground, and loosening his grip on Macaque, who took the opportunity to simply slide out of MK’s grip- not even trying to stand up and instead flopping onto the sidewalk, giving himself a moment to recover from the vertigo of the travel method he’d been subjected to, rolling over to make sure his face was covered by the ground.
“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” MK said, poking at Macaque’s back with the staff a few times. “If you don’t get up right now, I’m going to drag you in.”
Macaque didn’t move.
“Suit yourself.” MK shrugged, leaning down to grab Macaque by the fabric of his hoodie, dragging him in behind him as he entered the Noodle Shop. Macaque’s tail gave a little twitch as the magic ambiance washed over him, but otherwise chose not to outwardly react, keeping his head facing the ground. MK didn’t really seem to care. “Pigsy!!! I got him!!”
“Jeez kid, I told you to bring him here, not kill him and drag him in like a cat bringin’ home a bird.” Pigsy said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Can’t kill what’s already dead.” Macaque muttered, under his breath, low enough that none of the others could hear.
Or, well, shouldn’t have been able to hear.
“What did you say?” Mei asked absentmindedly from the other side of the room as she played a game on her phone. Damn dragon hearing. Macaque bit his lip for a moment before repeating his statement, slightly louder so that he could be heard;
“Can’t kill what’s already dead.”
There was at least one snort at that, the others clearly thinking he was just joking, though he could sense the kid’s grip on him tighten for a brief moment before relaxing back to it’s previous strength. Macaque sighed, reaching back to brush MK’s hand away from him- MK letting go at the action as Macaque stood up, instinctively trying to slide himself into a more confident stance-
A tingle ran down his spine, and he could taste electricity in his mouth as he let himself slouch down to mimic how he was actually feeling, keeping his head tilted down towards the ground so that the others couldn’t see his face as he slunk his way into a chair, crossing his arms as he did his best to get somewhat comfortable. He knew this whole scenario was going to explode in his face sooner or later.
“So…What’s with the hood?” Tang asked, and Macaque let out a world weary sigh.
Seemed like it was going to be sooner rather than later.
“Truth spell. I can’t put my glamors up because of it.” He leaned back in the chair- before realizing that would allow the others to see his face and quickly fixing his position so that they couldn’t. Faintly, he could hear MK mutter “Oh, so he was telling the truth about that”, which, thanks, obviously he was telling the truth when he was under a truth spell. He could also, despite not looking up, sense how Mei had finally looked away from her phone screen to snap her eyes to him with an almost manic glee. That was mostly fine, he had reluctantly accepted that he would most likely be subjected to some version of 20 questions during the period of time MK had took to carry him to the Noodle Shop. Besides, even if MK hadn’t forcibly dragged him here, he would’ve likely ended up running into one of them sooner or later. It was just a shame that he hadn’t been able to postpone it for as long as he had hoped.
“Um-” MK started, hesitating for a brief moment, Macaque’s ears twitching towards him, making Macaque bristle from the sensation of the fabric rubbing against his ears. MK paused for a moment longer, before continuing; “Do you… want something to cover your eye?”
Ah. So the kid had picked up on that.
“Yes, please.” Macaque muttered, just barely loud enough to be heard, and MK immediately took off, taking the stairs to his apartment two at a time. An almost uncomfortable silence fell upon the Noodle Shop almost immediately after, and Macaque did his best to not focus on it, instead choosing to listen to someone humming off key a few blocks away.
He was nearly ready to send a shadow clone directly to whoever it was to tell them that their singing was absolutely horrible when MK reappeared, nearly falling down the stairs in his rush to get back into the room.
“Will this do?” He asked, holding up a long strand of purple fabric. In all honesty, it looked like he had ripped the fabric right off of one of his shirts or something, but Macaque couldn’t be bothered to actually ask where the fabric had come from.
“Yeah.” Is what he said instead, taking the fabric out of MK’s hands, not risking pulling down the hood as he tied the fabric to cover the blind side of his face. “That’ll do.”
From off to the side, Mei snorted.
“You look like an anime character!” She giggled, completely ignoring the glare Macaque sent her way. He let out a sigh, knowing she was probably right, he likely looked absolutely ridiculous right now.
“So…” Pigsy leaned against the counter, pointing his spoon at Macaque. “What’s with… all this.”
“I already told you, truth spell.”
“Not that. Yer speech. You’re normally a lot more…” Pigsy trailed off, unable to think of a proper word that wouldn’t possibly offend the over-dramatic shadow monkey, but still everyone else in the room nodded in agreement, getting and agreeing with what he was saying without any need for further elaboration. Macaque rolled his eyes, grabbing hold of the edge of his scarf and bringing it up to his mouth to chew upon.
“Still the truth spell.” He said, slightly muffled now by the fabric in his mouth.
“...Truth spells can affect speech?” Tang asked, and Macaque tilted his head to the side, chewing his scarf as he regarded the others, who had equally as confused expressions.
“...Yeah? I thought that at least the kid would know this-” MK clearly didn’t, if the expression on his face was anything to go by, “-I figured with all the truth spells I threw at Wukong-”
“I’m sorry, you did what-”
“-that he would’ve taught you about them and how to avoid them.” Macaque finished, completely ignoring Tang’s minor interruption. Absentmindedly, he noticed that the sound of off-key humming he had tuned into, and never quite tuned out of, was getting closer. Huh. Weird.
“...Nah, we haven’t really touched magic.” MK hopped up to sit on the edge of the counter, despite the small glare Pigsy sent him at the action. “Monkey King says that he doesn’t know many magic spells.”
Now that was enough to startle a laugh out of Macaque, his scarf falling out of his mouth.
“Really? Please, he likely made up enough completely original spells to fill up at least 4 books.” Macaque smirked, before pausing, thinking a bit over the sentence. Sure, he believed that was probably true, but the fact the spell had let him say it was interesting. Some truth spells tapped into the ‘truth of the world’ (whatever THAT meant), and wouldn’t allow you to say something that wasn’t actually true, regardless of what you believed, while others allowed you to say things that were untrue so long as you believed it. Albeit, he did hold some level of doubt in the validity of it…
(He had tested one such spell that had seemed to allow him only to say the ‘truths of the world’, but… there was no way Wukong still cared about him. Absolutely not.
The spell probably simply only allowed you to state true dreams, not absolute truth).
Still, the idea that Wukong genuinely had invented that many spells yet still claimed he didn’t know very many was still very funny-
Macaque suddenly realized that the rest of the room was completely silent.
“...Why are you all staring at me like that?”
“Your laugh.” Sandy said, nearly startling Macaque right out of his chair, he hadn’t even noticed that he was there, which was saying something considering his hearing. Caught up in his shock, it took him a moment to really realize what Sandy had said.
As soon as it clicked, he slammed a hand over his mouth, despite it obviously already being far too late.
“You- you guys didn’t-” Electricity in his mouth. “Ugh, okay, you- heard something but- it’s not-” Electricity. In. Mouth. “Mmmm- please don’t bring it up-”
Realizing he sounded a bit like he was pleading , he opted to throw away all attempts at tossing a sentence together, instead practically slamming his head down on the table in front of him in an attempt to hide his face, putting his arms over top of his head. Sandy patted his back in an attempt at comfort, and Macaque huffed out a breath, ignoring how it lightly frosted the table as he tried to focus on cooling down, doing his best to try and make the heat on his cheeks and ears go away by force, distracting himself from the situation by listening to that humming that was still getting closer.
He wasn’t permitted more than thirty seconds to attempt to recollect himself.
“You know… you never fully answered my question earlier.” Tang said, Macaque instinctively tensing slightly. “Why is a truth spell making you act so… different?”
Macaque muttered something unintelligible to everyone in the room- he made sure to mutter in a way the dragon girl couldn’t understand, just to be sure, hoping that maybe they’d drop it.
“What was that?”
No such luck.
“It’s- the spell just hates m- it won’t let me act! Fuck!” Macaque sat back up, forgetting the circumstances he was in for a moment as he pushed his hood back to run a hand through his hair in frustration, his ears flicking wildly in response to his emotions.
It was the sound of Pigsy dropping his spoon that made him realize what he just did.
Hurriedly, he pulled the hood back up over his head, but the damage had already been done.
“Right.” Pigsy said, stepping out from behind the counter, Macaque’s fur standing on end as the other walked towards him. “Mei, Tang, hold your questions for later. Macaque- come, we’re gonna wash your hair in the kitchen sink.”
“I’m sorry, what-” It seemed like Macaque wasn’t going to get any say in the matter, as Pigsy grabbed hold of his wrist and started dragging him into the kitchen, MK turning to head back up the stairs again- this time mentioning grabbing a hairbrush and a towel. Mei also stood up to follow the kid up to his apartment, something about wanting to see if they had any elastics or hairclips. …If she thought Macaque was going to let her do whatever she wanted to his hair, she was dead wrong.
-
It took a lot of convincing for Pigsy to get Macaque to remove the fabric tied around his head so that it wouldn’t get wet as they washed his hair. Eventually they compromised on Macaque holding it in place over his eye while Pigsy washed his hair- he could tie it again once they were done.
At some point during the 20 minutes of hell that was loud water rushing near his ears as well as multiple hands running through his hair (one was okay when it was Pigsy helping him wash the soap out, but when it came to both MK and Mei braiding his hair at the same time-), Sun Wukong had shown up in the Noodle Shop. Macaque wasn’t sure how in the world he had missed his entrance, he supposed he could chalk it up to how he had needed to space out as much as possible in order to ignore the overbearing sound of the water running past his ears. He had noticed when the off-key humming had stopped, which, coincidentally, seemed to match up with the time Wukong had entered the building, which Macaque found rather suspicious. If he didn’t know that Wukong could, in fact, sing, he would’ve assumed that it was him. But that couldn’t be… right?
Well, no matter, that wasn’t important. It didn’t matter.
No, what did matter was Wukong’s smirk when Macaque re-entered the room.
Clearly Tang and Sandy had filled the Monkey King in on the situation.
Macaque’s legs, having frozen upon seeing Wukong, suddenly freed themselves from their self imposed prison, and Macaque immediately attempted to leave by turning around and marching back into the kitchen.
This plan was thwarted as Wukong, using both his speed and strength, appeared in front of him, easily scooping him up into his arms. Macaque huffed, giving up immediately, outside of attempting to aim a scratch at Wukong’s face, which, predictably, missed. He didn’t really care, at this point, albeit whether it was from being too overwhelmed by everything else to bother with caring or something else, Macaque couldn’t tell, as he chose to lean into Wukong- it didn’t matter if the other didn’t really care about him anymore, he would enjoy this while he could.
(Besides, Wukong was packed full of magic energy, at the very least the proximity would help the spell wear off even faster than before).
“You’re surprisingly receptive to being captured by the great Monkey King.” Wukong teased, but Macaque didn’t bother dignifying him with a response, instead shifting to bury his face into his friend’s shoulder. “Jeez- what did they do to you? A truth spell wouldn’t get you like this.”
“We washed his hair.” Pigsy walked out of the kitchen, followed by Mei and MK. Wukong hummed, and Macaque’s ear flicked towards him. Yeah, that settled it, it was Wukong who was humming off-key. Weird.
“Eh, the sound probably got to him.” Wukong shrugged, purposefully jostling Macaque a little. “Hey, Mac, you’re meant to hate me, remember?”
Macaque just grumbled a little, ears twitching, before mumbling incoherently again.
“What was that?” He was really starting to hate getting asked that question.
He sighed, using a bit of effort to pitch his voice louder so the others could hear as Wukong walked back over to a chair, carrying Macaque with him the whole way, the whole scenario kinda… peaceful. Still though, he knew that what he was about to say was going to break that peace, but despite his reluctance to say it, he had been asked a question, and the spell wouldn’t accept silence.
“I said at least your arms are better than the Lady’s chains.”
All peaceful activity in the room paused, a more serious air filling the room.
“...What do you mean, the Lady’s chains?” Wukong asked, voice cold, almost enough to make Macaque shiver. He hid his face even deeper into the Monkey King’s shoulder to avoid looking at everyone else.
“...She chained me. I don’t wanna talk about it.” Not to mention he felt too tired to talk about it. The overwhelming sensation of the water, all the hands in his hair, plus Sun Wukong’s arms around him was enough to lull him to a point where he suddenly remembered he hadn’t slept in multiple days, tiredness hitting him all at once.
He could tell there were looks being exchanged by the others over top of his head, but at the moment he didn’t think much of it.
“...If he doesn’t want to talk about it now, then we should just let it be.” Sandy’s voice said, and Macaque swore he could feel the tension drop multiple layers, but the awkward silence remained.
Thankfully, Mei seemed to be trained in breaking awkward silences.
“So! Macaque!” Macaque let out a tired hum at being addressed, so Mei continued. “What’s your favourite fruit?”
Macaque tiredly snickered a little. He knew full well that his fave fruit had been the topic of much debate between the kid and his friends, but he didn’t plan on giving them the satisfaction of knowing yet.
“Ya gotta let me keep some of my mystique, Dragon Girl.” He teased, glad the spell would allow him that much, so long as he followed it up with a full truth like- “My second fave is strawberries though.”
Both Mei and MK pouted, clearly displeased by the lack of an official answer on their Fave Fruit Quest, and Macaque laughed again, before cutting himself off with a yawn.
Almost instantly, a hand found it’s way into his hair again, gently moving around the braids and clips to stroke his head. Macaque found himself leaning into it, his eyes becoming half lidded. Almost like he wasn’t fully thinking about his actions, Wukong started humming as well, this time on key. Macaque mustered just enough energy to open his uncovered eye to half-heartedly glare at him.
“You were humming off key earlier just to annoy me on purpose, weren’t you.” He mumbled.
“Ah, so you were listening.” Wukong’s hand didn’t even pause, continuing to run through Macaque’s hair. “I had a sneaky feeling you were.”
Macaque let out a non-committal hum, ignoring the conversations that proceeded to spring up around him as he started to drift off asleep.
…Maybe he should actually bother trying to ask Wukong for one of the anti-truth spell protection barriers he seemed to have or something. That’d probably be wise. Hm. Well, that could be an issue for morning him.
At the very least, by the time he’d next wake up, the spell would most likely have lost it’s effect. He’d be glad for that.
He tiredly used the last of his consciousness to half heartedly hum along to the song Wukong was humming, completely oblivious to the way it ended in a slight purr.
In all honesty, this hadn’t been as bad of a day as he’d thought it would be.