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Seared Capsicum Cookie was not a fool, it was one of their core traits, what kept them afloat in a foreign land ruled by liars and traitors who danced on the corpse of a long dead god.
They had known, deep down, that something was wrong. That the house of cards that was this resistance was on the verge of tipping over. Seared Capsicum had been determined to go down swinging anyway, but they hadn’t anticipated that to be what in the end became the final nail in the coffin.
Pink Candyfloss Cookie had been corrupted to the core, the only thing she had in common with her namesake was the likelihood that she would rot your teeth from your gums while wearing a pretty face.
Seared Capsicum certainly didn’t regret spilling her jam, and they would gladly decorate their boots with her crumbles again if it meant saving a few more children from being orphaned thanks to her machinations. But unfortunately their friends for all they swore to Truth, liked to fixate on single parts of it, and discard the rest.
Seared Capsicum was a murderer.
Truth, no matter how bitter.
Seared Capsicum likes crumbling cookies.
A lie, but one that spread faster then they could stop.
Seared Capsicum is evil, Seared Capsicum is a traitor, Seared Capsicum-
They sighed, pressing their face into their knees.
Seared Capsicum is tired.
They were at a safehouse now, it had always been a guilty secret of theirs, their paranoia- their need for hidden backup plans and escape routes. Deceitful of them, but… well. Now they can only be glad, as much as it hurts that they really cannot trust those they thought of as friends… at least they got one thing right.
It is painful, bitter- they know they cannot fix this, they have never been good at dealing with other cookies. Words fail them, and their actions tend toward the underhanded.
It’s the only reason they made it out of the spicelands in the first place- as sour as it is, Deceit is the only reason they are still anything other than crumbles.
Maybe twice over now, they didn’t exactly stick around after the first talk of capture and imprisonment floated around, but they hadn’t missed the word execution either. But no, it didn’t matter, couldn’t matter, Seared Capsicum Cookie was gone, and in their place was Diced Bellpepper Cookie, wandering mercenary.
Diced Bellpepper had no friends to lose, only a belly to fill, and coins to collect. Honest work, for honest pay.
Hard to come across in these lands, at these times, but they made do. As they always have done.
Nothing more to it then that.
( - < - > - )
Diced Bellpepper did not trust their latest employers, well, maybe it was unreasonable to mistrust a child. But even if there was nothing wrong with little Sweet Apple Cookie, there was something distinctly off about the adults. Gemstone Grape Cookie felt familiar to Diced Bellpepper in ways that said no good and…
Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie just sent every one of Diced Bellpepper’s alarm bells ringing.
But Diced Bellpepper had a belly to feed, and a coinpurse to fill, and it seems employers willing to accept them were running short of late (kinda suspicious that, but what were they to do?), so they accepted the well paying contract and swallowed down their fear.
It was illogical anyway, if something went wrong, or the whole thing turned out to be foul, Diced Bellpepper would just cut ties and run.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
But for all Diced Bellpepper’s reassurances and paranoia, things really didn’t seem bad. Their pay came when they expected it to, the food was good, if a bit sweet, and their business seemed to be all very above board. Well, it seemed to be politics, but not outwardly the skull an’ dagger kind.
The only complaint Diced Bellpepper might have would be that their fellow guards seemed uninterested in talking.
But Diced Bellpepper was never particularly eager to make friends, so that wasn’t really a problem.
They huffed, munching on an apple and watching the view go past from the top of the caravan. Maybe the real problem was that things were a little dull, usually something would have gone wrong by now, the authorities bending the law to squeeze a few extra coins here and there, but Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie seemed to… well, Diced Bellpepper wasn’t sure.
But either she was one of them, or they were scared enough of her to defer to her regardless.
“What an utterly bland and boring day.” Diced Bellpepper startled, glancing back to see Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie emerge from the lower half of the carriage, heels clicking with each step. “So sunny and sickeningly average with this mild bit of breeze.”
She huffed, “Why, it makes me wish something awful would happen just to spice things up.”
Diced Bellpepper grimaced, perhaps they should add Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie’s particular way of speaking as a downside, but even if most of the things she said were callous, disturbingly, on some level Diced Bellpepper agreed with her. It was a boring day, and on some level Diced Bellpepper… did wish that something would happen.
But no- that was… crooked. Boredom was a fair price to pay for peace.
Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie sighed, “Just when I was so close… ugh, why do you have to be so morally uptight?”
Diced Bellpepper watched her warily out of the corner of their eye, stiffening as she wandered over to them, flopping down on the floor with another huff. The bone-deep feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong- was back, and it only seemed to get worse as Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie propped her head up on her fist to look at them.
There was a long pause as Diced Bellpepper fought not to crawl out of their own dough and run away, speaking was the farthest thing from their mind, but they couldn’t imagine the words coming anyway- that stare was too much.
Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie hummed, tapping a finger against their cheek, “Not much of a talker are you? Hm. No matter, not everycookie in the production has to stand in the spotlight.”
Diced Bellpepper shrunk as she leaned forward slightly, “I could use some backstage workers who have some ability to think, lifeless puppets are just so high maintenance, I have to tell them what to do in every situation…”
“...what?” Diced Bellpepper’s voice came out as little more than a squeak, but Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie grinned.
“So you do speak,” She giggled, “And it’s really quite simple, I want you to work for me. You know, be my minion, servant, whatever you want to call it, for eternity or however long I decide to keep you around…”
Diced Bellpepper stared, feeling like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf with how their heart was trying to beat its way out of their chest.
“So anxious! It’s adorable! Oh you have put on such a good show, you know, it would be annoying how much you keep dodging your role in the script if it weren’t so admirable.” Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie giggled, standing up again, “You're like a cockroach!”
She patted them on the head, and Diced Bellpepper shivered as an- odd feeling ran through their dough. “Hm, how about this, I’ll give you as much time to think it over as you want! You’ll come crawling back eventually anyway~” Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie chuckled, clicking her way back to the stairs, and descending them to disappear from sight.
( - < - > - )
Diced Bellpepper did not run that night, it was a near thing, but even as the shadows of the forest either side of the road stood invitingly- promising freedom from the suddenly stifling situation they had found themselves in-
Diced Bellpepper couldn’t throw off the feeling of eyes watching their every movement.
They stayed, because part of them couldn’t help but feel that running would just invite the wolves to chase them. And, disturbingly, it seemed like the right choice to make. Nothing changed after that conversation, it was almost as if it never happened at all.
Still Diced Bellpepper counted down the days until their contract was up, and as soon as the final lot of gold was safe in their coinpurse they made themselves scarce.
( - < - > - )
“No, can’t say I’ve heard of any cookie, noble or not, of that particular name…”
Piperrada Cookie swallowed, nodding. They should be glad, if Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie really had vanished, then it was just one less thing to worry about. But still… they sighed. “Alright, thank you.”
The bartender shrugged, sweeping the coins off the table, “Just good business.”
Piperrada Cookie turned away, just one more circuit of the bounty boards, then they would make their plans- it was a bit of a vague hope that-
Another cookie walked right into them. Piperrada Cookie immediately reached for their coinpurse, backing up and getting ready to chase if something had been snatched, but no. Everything valuable was in place, they squinted, a failure then- or just an accident.
The other cookie straightened up, and Piperrada’s breath caught- purple dough, for a second… but no, their face was different. “Apologies, I should have been looking where I was going.”
Piperrada’s mind stuttered over a response, “It- it’s fine.”
They almost thought they saw a sharp-toothed smirk flicker across the other cookie’s face for a second before it smoothed out to neutrality again. But no, that was silly, Piperrada forced their shoulders to drop as the cookie darted off into the crowd again, paranoia must be getting to them again.
( - < - > - )
There was a theater ticket in their bag. Piperrada stared at it, hunkered down in an alleyway.
The… ‘resistance’ had moved into town, although considering that they seemed to run on exactly the same principles of the cookies they were resisting, Piperrada didn’t know how they qualified as a resistance anymore. Either way, there were far too many familiar faces in that crowd, and Piperrada wanted no part in it.
But some of those familiar faces were among the gate guards, and Piperrada wasn’t foolish enough to hope their disguise would hold up in broad daylight. So… waiting.
And waiting led them to… this. Discovering a ticket for a private booth seat to a show being performed that evening, in the town’s grand theater.
There was no way that Piperrada was going, putting aside that a mysteriously appearing theater ticket was not something they wanted to poke with a ten foot pole, they would never be allowed into a place like that dressed as they were. Piperrada didn’t have money for this sort of thing, and they looked it.
They huffed, drawing up their shoulders, they couldn’t even sell it, not without being accused of thievery.
It went back in their bag, Piperrada had other things to worry about.
( - < - > - )
Piperrada hugged themselves as they watched the curtains close on the performance. For a while, just watching, it was easy to forget the circumstances that brought them here.
How they should not be here. It had been a last ditch effort really, cornered and surrounded by bad options, Piperrada had decided to gamble it all on that ticket. Piperrada didn’t belong in a theater, but that meant that a cookie would have to be mad to search for them there.
And somehow… it had worked. No cookie working here had so much as blinked at Piperrada’s lacking appearance, their ticket seemed to be all that mattered, and that was only given a quick glance.
Well, the other theater goers gave them a few sneers, but Piperrada couldn’t complain about something going as expected.
The show had been something about a king forced to follow a script written by a Witch, and how he broke free form her control. Blasphemy, Piperrada is sure, but not really surprising, Witch worship started to go out of fashion long before they were baked.
Now what Piperrada needed to worry about was getting out of here, and then making their way over the city walls without being spotted.
“Oh! So you did come!” Piperrada whipped around at the sound of a clap, “I almost thought you would be too scared, but I suppose those little gnats have been making quite the mess.”
The cookie, on paper, looked and sounded next to nothing like Lady Berry Milkshake Cookie, their face was entirely different, a dress traded for a costume befitting the role of a king, but deep inside Piperrada there was a horrible certainty that this cookie was her.
They waltzed into the booth, the much heavier clack of boots replaced the click of heels before, but the rhythm was the same. “Soooo, how have you been doing? Heard you were asking after me,” The cookie giggled, “I mean I know you aren’t ready to accept my offer yet, but it’s sweet you tried to keep track of the big bad wolf all the same.”
Piperrada wonders if this is what it feels like to be paralyzed.
“I love the new name, don’t know how you ever made it in an order dedicated to Truth, but I can appreciate the artform you are perfecting here,” They stopped in front of Piperrada’s chair, folding their arms behind their back, “A good dose of method acting, just enough to keep you in the role, without forgetting about the script altogether!”
Piperrada pressed themselves back into their chair, “Wh-what do you want?”
The cookie grinned, “I already told you! I want you to serve me in sweet-sweet Deceit!” They huffed, “Althooouuugh I’m starting to think that you have such an acute case of stage fright that I might just have to pull some strings for that to happen!”
They leaned forward a little more, and Piperrada flinched as they felt two hands come up to squish their cheeks.
The cookie cooed, “Aww, look at you! Like a little itty-bitty rabbit!” They giggled again, “Now wouldn’t it be a fun little plot twist if I was just to remove that little weakness of yours for…” They hummed, “Let’s say a week or so, see what chaos a wolf can cause when it stops thinking of itself as a sheep.”
Piperrada shivered, glancing around the booth if somehow a route of escape- an explanation of what was happening- would miraculously appear. “Wha-”
“Shhh, gaze up here.” The cookie’s voice abruptly transformed to something much softer, and as Piperrada glanced up at their eyes, they watched them change too, their strange mismatched pupils expanding to consume their iris, turning the whole thing flat white and black.
Flat, except, after a moment small strands of blue and cyan invade from the edge, spiralling round and round, slowly making their way to the centre of each eye. Spinning… spinning…
The cookie giggled, “Not so scary now huh?”
Piperrada blinked slowly, their body feeling heavy… there was a little voice in the back of their mind screeching and running around in panic, wrong, wrong, wrong! It chanted, danger, danger, danger! But it felt much nicer to ignore that voice, and to focus instead on the pretty spirals as they twisted around and around…
“Aww, who is a cute little puppet?” Piperrada’s cheeks were squished again, but gentler this time, small circles smoothing over the dough, “Just relax, no need to be so uptight all the time! Nothing you can do to stop the big bad wolf making you lunch, so why not just sit back and let it happen?”
Piperrada shivered again, but this time it was from the feeling of intoxicating warmth spreading through their dough and fogging up their head.
“Seee? That’s much better isn’t it?” Piperrada nodded, still not looking away from the pretty spirals.
Another giggle, “Well, now that everyone has their proper listening ears on… I’ve got some extra special instructions for you.”
( - < - > - )
Seared Capsicum was not a cookie who thought of themselves as vengeful, to burn out those who wronged them, and then see themselves as a punishing force sent to purify the wicked- those thoughts would be dangerous delusions at best. But still, as they scrubbed jam and crumbles from their dough, tossing their disguise into the river milk-
It was not difficult to imagine embracing the delusion.
They huffed, pulling out their stash from the bushes, pulling on fresh clothes, and tossing a cloak over their shoulders.
To think that the resistance they worked so hard to cultivate would fall at their hands, not that there was much worth left in it. If you are going to embrace lies, at least have the decency to not pretend to be preaching the Truth while you do it.
Seared Capsicum huffed again, beginning the slow walk downstream, to think they once ran away from those idiots afraid.
( - < - > - )
Something was deeply wrong.
Seared Capsicum started awake, sitting up in the inn bed to press their hands over their heart. Seared Capsicum… Seared Capsicum? Weren’t they Piperrada- were? What?
They clutched their head, feeling almost outside of themselves as conflicting memories and ideas fought it out in their mind. Control yourself, find the solid ground- where is it?
The theater ticket, Seared Capsicum- Piperrada Cookie had found the theater ticket in their bag. They remember that, sitting in that grimy alleyway. They didn’t go to that performance did they? No. But can they be sure? They went inside the hall, and… and everything got blurry.
Then… why didn’t they run away? It’s what they have always done before.
What have I done?
Well, a sweet little voice at the back of their mind whispered, you clearly didn’t need to.
Seared Capsicum gave a small incredulous laugh, because- how? Why? Did they even want to know?
Am I going insane?
( - < - > - )
Stuffed Pepper Cookie placed the bottles down on the counter, and was rewarded with a dreamy smile as the bartender cookie sniffed the contents. “Oh thank you, my beloved will just adore these…”
Why their beloved would adore bottles of snow fresh from the strong flour ridge was entirely beyond Stuffed Pepper, but this was what they got for working so close to the sweet kingdoms they supposed. It was home to a whole new kind of crazy, but at least they wouldn’t lop your head off, and they generally paid in actual currency.
Generally.
“My payment?”
The cookie giggled, but a rather fat coin purse was slid over the counter toward Stuffed Pepper. A quick glance revealed that it was filled with actual gold.
Good, Stuffed Pepper didn’t risk contracting the White Plague for nothing.
They tucked the coins into their bag, turning to leave.
“Oh! Before you go…” Stuffed Pepper paused, “There was a cookie in here asking about you… very dashing young cookie, he tells the best stories… oh you would never believe what Primrose Sugar gets up to on the weekends-”
Stuffed Pepper narrowed their eyes, “Someone was asking about me?”
“Yes, yes… he wanted me to give you a note!” The cookie dug around under the counter, eventually pulling out a blue envelope, “Here- they said it was from their master.” The cookie hummed idly, “I didn’t know they served anyone…”
Seared Capsicum Stuffed Pepper took the envelope warily. “Thank you.”
The cookie sighed airily, “Thank you for bringing my beloved such a perfect gift…”
Utterly crazy, but it looked like Stuffed Pepper had other issues to deal with.
( - < - > - )
Seared Capsicum was not a fool, whoever sent that letter knew their actual identity, and had managed to find them a hundred miles from where they had last used it. And they knew all of Seared Capsicum’s other identities too, had proclaimed it casually.
And a smart cookie would never take the bait, a smart cookie would run, head back towards the spicelands, danger aside- Seared Capsicum would blend in more there.
A smart cookie wouldn’t be standing at the door of the letter’s proposed meeting place, ready to go inside.
Seared Capsicum was a lot dumber than they had thought themselves to be.
They sighed, pushing open the door- only to muffle a scream when the world fell out from under them. Black- black- black- all around was an endless void, eyes hovered around, squinting with glee at Seared Capsicum’s terror as they plummeted down, down…
Something wrapped around their middle, yanking them to a stop inches before they hit the ground.
Terror burned in their jam as they hung there, too scared to move. What- what?
A giggle started up behind them, a giggle that quickly transformed into a full on cackle. “Oh! Oh! That was too good! Such a simple trick- but it pulls such a great reaction every time!”
Seared Capsicum slowly turned their head, eyes eventually focusing on a cookie… floating in the air behind them. A blue cookie, with a white pupil, and a black pupil- something tickled in the back of Seared Capsicum’s memory.
Something was deeply wrong.
“Aww, look at you trying to remember!” The cookie giggled again, drifting round to face Seared Capsicum from the front. “Oh you really are so much fun to watch, still need to shake some of those righteous goody-goody tendencies out of you but then…”
Seared Capsicum swallowed, keeping them in line of sight as they tried to examine wherever it was they were. It didn’t help, the endless void with floating eyes screamed magic and Seared Capsicum was not a magic cookie.
“Hmmmm, well no point beating around the bush…” The cookie snapped their fingers, and Seared Capsicum fell to the ground. “This performance has been delayed far too long already,” The cookie sighed, “Sugar is such a whiner, just because I crumbled a few dozen of her ‘sweetlings’... psshhh as if she wasn’t going to turn them into statues anyway.”
Seared Capsicum stumbled to their feet, to what purpose they didn’t know, even if- in some universe- they managed to defeat a cookie that could fly it wouldn’t help them get out of here.
The cookie smirked, swirling a scepter into existence in their hands. “Nooow… how about we start with you remembering all those things I took from your empty puppet mind.”
“Wha-” Seared Capsicum flinched as the cookie smacked Seared Capsicum on the head with their scepter. They rubbed the spot, and then, abruptly felt as if they were in freefall again when several very important pieces of information suddenly became available.
“Your face! Oh this is too much fun, well… here comes the boring question.” The cookie twirled in the air, dipping into a bow, “I Shadow Milk Cookie, master of all Deceit in this world, invite you to serve me, for the rest of your punny mortal existence!”
Seared Capsicum stared as the cookie broke down into cackles again, “...no.”
Nothing about this could end well, but agreeing, or implicitly agreeing, seemed like a very bad idea. At least if fairytales about old demons and the like were to be believed.
“No?” The cookie- Shadow Milk Cookie, grinned, batting his lashes, “You refuse my offer?”
“Yes.” Seared Capsicum narrowed their eyes, feeling a bit more confident.
Shadow Milk Cookie’s head lolled on his neck, bending to an unnatural degree, “What a shame, but!” Shadow Milk Cookie grinned, head snapping back into place. “I didn’t say you had a choice…” another round of giggles, “hm, but how about I have this conversation with Piperrada Cookie instead?”
Seared Capsicum stared, huh? But… I am Piperrada Cookie…
“Confused?” Shadow Milk Cookie started circling Seared Capsicum in the air above, “Well you see, I just think that other version of you has much better listening ears,” Shadow Milk Cookie stopped again, examining rather claw-like nails.”annnnd while I appreciate a good bit of backbone, it’s an incy-wincy bit inconvenient…”
Seared Capsicum swallowed, but shook their head.
*Seee?” Shadow Milk Cookie smacked them on the head with the scepter again, “Very inconvenient.”
Seared Capsicum cowed, holding their hands over their head.
“But lucky for you, the greatest playwright to ever grace earthbread with his presence wrote a script for this specific occasion!” Shadow Milk Cookie grinned, snapping his(?) fingers twice and-
Piperrada Cookie shivered, wrapping their arms around themselves.
“There, see? Much more spineless!” Shadow Milk Cookie giggled, floating closer. Piperrada took a step back, and then another- maybe they should just run- “Nuh-uh.” Blue strings appeared out of nowhere, shooting out to wrap around Piperrada’s limbs, “None of that.”
Piperrada shook as they were hoisted into the air, stopping only when they were at eye level with- was this even a cookie? Looking at them directly felt a little like staring into a warped mirror, one that kept shifting and changing- it made Piperrada’s head hurt.
Claws pricked their dough as hands grabbed their face, and Piperrada jammed their eyes shut as they saw black and white pupils begin to expand.
“Awww, are you scared?” A soft giggle, “Don’t you remember last time? Didn’t it feel so good to just look into the pretty spirals?”
Piperrada bit their lip, shaking their head, bad things happened when they did that.
A soft squish to their cheeks, “Oooh, is someone worried about what their orders might be? Silly little cookie, bad things won’t happen to you.”
Piperrada shook their head again.
“Aww are we worried about hurting other cookies?” Another squish to their cheeks, “Well isn’t that just adorable~” A pause, “When will you learn that other cookies don’t deserve that?”
“They turn on you at every angle, in every way, and hear you are feeling sorry for them? What a dense doughy mind you have!” One of the hands on his face released, and one poked his forehead, “Open your eyes little cookie.”
Piperrada’s eyes snapped open, and immediately their vision was filled with mismatched spirals. Spinning… spinning… spinning…
“There we are! Much better.” A hum, “No more worrying about the audience, m-kay? Master forbids it.”
Piperrada shivered, nodding, their head felt so… airy, empty, except for… for…
A hand smoothed over their head, and the slight ache there dissipated. “Good puppet, now… to figure out what to do with you.”