quite a bit of oat and plum

i wasn't going to post this on ao3 for a few reasons (recipient has gifts turned off is one) but hey let's have some fun

Many an inflection point appeared in Dunban's journey - well, Shulk's journey, he should say. Those obvious moments where if Dunban said, did, a certain thing, the whole course would be thrown. He had the power to change the future merely by being more plot-aware than the rest of his adorably clueless friends. It was playing god to forcibly turn past the whole middle stack of leaves, and Dunban truthfully had no interest in doing such a thing.

Maybe he enjoyed a slightly different kind of superior feeling.

Of course Shulk had to be given a handicap in the form of his visions, in the form of an entire entity delivered to fulfill the role of cryptic beckoner. Dunban did far from begrudge him, because to go through the doubtless titanic struggles, both emotional and heroical, that lay ahead of them all without any sort of guide would be cruel and unnecessary torture. It was just...a little too cozy.

(But Dunban couldn't help. Because that wasn't Dunban's role.)

And while he was still developing a solid understanding and strategy of this world laid so tritely before him, Dunban found twin voices of counsel ready to assist.

On the right shoulder, above the disabled arm, an angelic figure: broader wings than a High Entia's sprouted out of the back, not the head. Careless waves of caramel brown were tied up into a messy ponytail and the face was scarred.

On the left shoulder, above the abled arm, a devilish figure: red horns emerged from a thicket of raven-black hair, matching red glasses. There was a definite air of superiority, with a stiff stance and cruel smirk.

Before Dunban could so much as yelp or start, the devil spoke. "I suppose I shouldn't complain about being assigned this side, but there is such a thing as being typecast..."

"Should have brought Obrona," the angel returned. "A butterfly's closer to heaven than a cowboy'll ever be."

"As if she could ever be," snapped the devil, suddenly in defense of his own apparently despicable nature. He pushed his glasses up again. "Why is it so damned humid?"

It seemed Dunban's first line was doomed to be far from dramatic. "We're in a rainforest. Or a jungle, perhaps. Whichever one is more thematically appropriate."

"I vote rainforest," said the angel. "More scenic. Goes better with the rainbow waterfalls."

"Ah, but the canopy is not consistent throughout."

"Yes," agreed Dunban, "but I've caught glimpses of dinosaurs through this same inconsistent canopy. Such colossal wildlife is too statuesque for a swampy jungle."

The devil pushed his glasses up again. "Whatever."

"Whatever, indeed. Who in the devil are you?"

"I'm Akhos," the left-sider proclaimed with a flourish. "Playwright extraordinaire and lover of all things spectacle."

The right-sider groaned. "Didn't know he loved puns... My name's Minoth. I don't know about extraordinaire, but I write, from time to time. More interested in pathos than Akhos, though I'm not sure he much cares about ethos or logos."

Akhos sniffed. "I care about logos, when it suits me. I can utilize any rhetorical device I like!"

"How about exposition?" asked Dunban, amused but slightly bemused to have been forgotten. "Where did you come from?"

"Alrest, I presume."

"Alrest?"

"The great green room in the sky," supplied Minoth. "Where they put playwrights who've gone past their prime."

"Speak for yourself, old man," Akhos sneered, making a cutoff motion across his throat but failing to be seen around Dunban's.

"So I'm being killed off for knowing too much?"

Dunban's conclusion, unfortunately, overestimated just how much he knew.

"I doubt any of your companions are that bloodthirsty. They all seem pretty anti-betrayal so far."

Scratching his chin, Dunban replied, "Well, Reyn could surprise you. And you've not met Mumkhar, or Dickson for that matter."

"Don't need to," said Akhos dismissively. "Describe to us your latest bookmark."

"Well...we just met Melia, a High Entia who is undoubtedly royalty of their race. None of the others could tell, and I almost slipped and let them know that I knew, but thankfully they remained oblivious to that much, too. Likely, they thought it just my sarcasm. Or they didn't hear at all. If they'd heard, I would have just gone for it, and said, 'Imagine meeting a High Entia princess, here.' But then they might wonder if I had met her, somewhere before."

Akhos grinned. Quite frankly, it was a scary expression, until Dunban remembered just how miniature these figures were - and even in comparison to Minoth, Akhos was a bit of a twerp.

"I say go for it. What's the harm? Or maybe there will be harm. But you'll never find out...!"

"No, no..." Dunban shook his head. "I can't reveal anything that isn't common knowledge, or something that could be easily deduced from the surroundings. Like the conveniently-placed tree we sheltered under, or the waterfall Shulk harvested the ether crystals from."

Sharla hadn't deduced it from Melia's extreme reaction to ether deficiency. Reyn had missed the comment about a male "Homs". Even Shulk, with his visions, hadn't said anything.

"Everything has to do with Shulk, huh?" asked Minoth coyly.

One final sigh from Dunban. "That's about the size," he said. "Now, if you two would make yourselves scarce?"

"Jokes aside, I agree with your rationale and heuristic. You've got some respect for the hero's journey."

"Of course I have. It was almost mine."

couldn't/didn't fit the Ether Plum gag into the wordcount, nor Monado Plot Armor, though it's quite obvious where they would appear