Mistic Pets

Welcome to Issue 79
Created by The Mistic Pets Team

Love, Loss, and Luck
Written By Fish

The last place Ciara wanted to move to was Banshee Swamp, so, of course, that was where her family had ended up. Her parents had been taken in by the joy of Revelry, particularly this year since the Rougarou had slept through it. In her opinion, living somewhere where there’s a threat of a massive beast showing up at least once a year was less than comfortable, but what could she do?

The older Jinx grumbled, bones creaking as he settled down on his porch. The Rougarou is early this year, he thought, having been around for plenty of Rougarou’s outbursts and Infestations alike. He fluffed his feathers and began rocking, reminiscing, regretting past actions, even if he couldn’t have changed anything.

Bram had been the kindest Stignightus he had known, never fearing the “curse” that supposedly surrounded Alazar and his kind. Where others would shun him, Bram was right there, bringing him tea, inviting him over for treats and to binge watch cartoons and ridiculous reality shows. The shunning was always particularly strong around this time of year, no one wanting a cursed Jinx falling in love with them, everyone worried about Alazar’s rotten luck would draw their Rougarou’s attention to them.

Now that Bram was gone, the implied exile hurt even more. 

Alazar growled, grumped at the younger pets and legendaries racing all over, almost wishing one would step on his yard so he could, at least, yell at them, but he seemed to have an invisible barrier around him. Not even a stray cootie or lovebug seemed interested in “infesting” his house.

He closed his eyes and rocked in his chair. Just because the Rougarou couldn’t get any sleep with the rowdy crowds doesn’t mean he couldn’t. He drifted off, hoping for dreams of his deceased husband.

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Ark the Briken pattered, scrambled, left droplets of blood in her wake. She hated Infestation; she had been through so many, and yet no one had wanted her. She only seemed to incite fear, not love as she was supposed to, and so she had made multiple trips back and forth from their homelands to the crowded cities.

She was skittish now. She had been chased away from too many, seen as dangerous, gross. Ark had even been sprayed with lovebug spray that stung her exposed muscles, even though she wasn’t a lovebug at all. Her body felt heavy with the love she had to give and yet empty because she had yet to receive any since being kitted. Brikens weren’t known for their supportive family lifestyles; they were supposed to go out and find their own.

The Briken found herself padding through an unusually empty yard. She could hear the nonsense occurring behind her, but no one was harassing her, chasing her away. In fact, the only living being seemed to be a large Mistican relaxing on the porch. The creaking of the old rocking chair drew her closer, and silently Ark scrambled up next to the Jinx. The rocking stopped, and she froze as the Mistican cracked open an eye to study her.
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He had been having a really good dream too, before this scrappy creature hauled itself into his space and bled all over his nice clean porch. What was it, a Briken? One of the less common cooties, or maybe they avoided people out of shame for their appearance. He prepared to shoo the intruder away, but a pang of loneliness and a stark realization stopped him.

Maybe, maybe people were creeped out by them and thought they were bad luck. It wasn’t a stretch, not really, based on the creature’s gruesome appearance.

Alazar sighed. He didn’t like getting attached to things. But he couldn’t let something else be left out because of some nonsensical superstitions.

Besides, he knew what Bram would have done.

He stood up, and the Briken scrambled across the porch, out of reach, and the Jinx was aware that its fur would be standing on end it if had any. He knelt down, certain that some of his old bones cracked in the process, and the cootie timidly sniffed at his claws, before rubbing up against him.

The Briken followed him inside, and Alazar wiped his paw off on his shirt. He definitely would need more hand sanitizer. And – he noted the pawprints left in the Briken’s wake – he might need to invest in a better mop.

He and she eyed each other carefully, but they were happy. Neither would have to be alone again and as far as feared yet misunderstood creatures went, they couldn’t be in better company.

Somewhere, far away, past the realm of the living, Bram smiled.

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