the moon is bright enough (LUNCH CLUB) DISCONTINUED

when the supernova explodes all comes to rest

He tries his best. He swears he does.

It's just so difficult to keep his head up, stay strong and confident in the eyes of his friends. He wants to look like he knows what he's doing, but honestly?

He's scared.

He should probably think about something else before Connor reads his mind. He doesn't want him to know. He doesn't need anyone  to know.

All he needs to do is look like he's got this. He needs to think it, too.

He stands up straighter and runs a hand through his hair, then dusts down his suit. The one he's wearing is specially designed to look good and act as armour – it appears to be made out of regular human material, but it has magic woven into the wool.

His hand reaches up, almost by its own accord, and he toys with the tips of his horns.

"You do that a lot, you know."

Schlatt nearly jumps out of his skin.

Whirling around, he finds himself face-to-face with Techno. Mask on, of course, but it's obvious he's grinning. He takes in a breath, wings flaring by his sides, then pulls on a smile.

"What, you watching me or somethin'?"

"You look nervous," The assassin says instead, speaking almost lazily. He pauses for a moment, mulling over his words, and Schlatt takes the chance to look him over. He's got a tiny crown on his head and a red and white fur coat which actually looks quite comfortable. For a fleeting second, he wants to touch it – and he nearly does, until he realises that might be weird.

He swallows, tugging on his horns again. "How'd Charlie manage to get you without dying?"

Techno makes a low whistle, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I may or may not have punched him in the face," he admits. "Ty healed him, though." He pushes his hair out of his face, looking up at Schlatt. "Got a plan for tonight?"

"Get in, grab Travis, and get out. Flawless," Schlatt says, only half joking. After a moment's pause, he locks eyes with Techno, confessions on the tip of his tongue. He really ought to confide in someone. "Hey, Technoblade?"

"Hm?" 

Those eyes hold so much respect, so much friendly affection. What if Techno decides that he's not worth it anymore, after hearing everything?

He looks away with a sigh. "Never mind. I'll see you later."

Techno watches him carefully, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed. There's a beat of silence, then –

"My name's Dave."

By the time Schlatt looks up again, he's gone.

Darkness covers the land like a blanket.

It's time to move.

On the ground, stepping silently through the trees is a cloaked figure. He glances over his shoulder and nods, then melts into the shadows.

Behind him appears two more men. One walks with a slight limp and waves away help. The other clicks his fingers and casts a soft pink glow. It flickers, tongues like flame reaching up into the night sky. 

A breeze drifts down towards them as something swoops downwards, killing the pink flame with wings beating hard as it soars. It rises, framed by the moon: the unmistakable shape of a man flies past.

In his arms he carries another person, whose face has turned a pale shade of green.

"How much longer until we arrive, Schlatt?" He grits out. His knuckles are white from how tightly he's holding on.

"Just a few minutes, Charlie. What, you feelin' sick or something?" Schlatt grins, canines glinting in the moonlight. Not for the first time, Charlie notices how he looks exactly like some kind of demon. Is this cult? Is Schlatt Satan?

He twitches his nose, trying to stop his glasses from falling off. "This is really uncomfortable," he says. "Why can't I walk with them?" He jerks his head towards the trio on the ground, then gags. A deeper shade of green colours his cheeks.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Schlatt says, still grinning, "I think this is pretty fly."

Charlie makes an agonised grunt and buries his head in the crook of his elbow. "God, I hate you so fucking much."

Schlatt bites back a laugh. He decides to take pity on the poor guy and speeds up a tad. He may as well scout out the place before the others arrive.

Honestly, they weren't even going to take Charlie at first, but he's too valuable to be left behind. Charlie could hack into whatever systems there were available and delete security footage. They'd just have to make sure he didn't get caught.

Easier said than done, Schlatt thinks as he glances back down at Charlie. He's almost always talking. Even now, scared out of his mind, he's babbling incomprehensible nonsense into the skin of his arm.

It's not long until he comes across the first signs of human life – a swimming pool shines white under the moon. Around it are long grasses, some flattened from regular trampling. He flies lower, examining the area. There appears to be some green scales floating on the water's surface.

He recalls Connor saying something about someone's mind sounding like water. Perhaps they were amphibious? Some sort of fish-human creature, like how Schlatt's part goat? That sounds way more lame. Poor guy.

He ducks under a tree branch, careful to avoid snagging his feathers. Hiding in the trees is both safe and dangerous: it keeps him hidden from watchful eyes, but he's more likely to crash into something. He's willing to take that risk, until he hears a squeal, and remembers that he has a passenger.

Oops.

He finds a gap in the trees to fly out of and decides to stay up high. Unless they know he has wings, there's no reason for them to look up.

Why would they know he has wings? Unless they saw him that one time he hurt Charlie, it would be impossible. He rarely lets himself be seen. 

He kind of regrets seeing Charlie that day. It was fun talking with him, but then –

Then –

Fuck. He really shouldn't get distracted. Not this close to the enemies' base, while Charlie clings onto him like an overgrown monkey.

His arms are beginning to cramp up. He really ought to land, soon. Where the fuck is the base entrance? It's so stupid. 

Something pricks his forearm, almost like an insect bite. Something cold hits his veins. 

Woah. His brain feels way too woozy. 

His left wing squeezes tight against his sides, then flares wide open, staggering him. He swerves to his right, then back again, and, huh. His limbs feel so heavy. So sleepy.

He should land. 

"Schlatt, are you okay, man?" Charlie asks, wide-eyed and trembling. "Need to have a break?"

Schlatt grins, eyes half-lidded. Charlie looks like a mess of colour and shapes. "Heh, yeah. I think I need a smog check," his voice is lilted, almost like he's singing. He hums something under his breath. Wings beat at the air, flimsy and weak.

The ground looks real close. 

How convenient, he thinks deliriously. He's really sleepy.

He wonders why Charlie's screaming.