#'god I sure hope he doesn't realize I'm a serial killer :/'

[reareaotaku]

Yandere! Boris Pavlikovsky Headcanons

Taglist: @fxchild Tw: Abusive parents [On both sides], Addiction [Mentioned*]

[Have to mix it up a little, because I'm sure some people who followed before the gravity falls/non-gravity fall related stuff are sick of seeing it- I'm sorry to those people; Please don't leave 😭😭😭 It's also crazy because I have a blog that's dedicated to Gravity Falls and I'm not even posting on it-]

💊🍺This guy is so insensitive. Like does not care about anyone but himself. He is so selfish and you despise him for it. He grosses you out and he gives you like serial killer vibes, so you try and stay away from him

💊🍺 He knows how you feel about him, but as stated previously he doesn't care about that. In fact, he has deluded himself into believing that you're just playing hard to get. He has the ego of a god and believes that everyone likes him- Or at least is attractive to him. In reality, it's just a way to protect himself from getting hurt, so he puts himself on a pedestal, so everyone's words don't touch him and he can never be hurt; At least, not verbally

💊🍺 He's very degrading to you, which makes you think he hates you. You're surprised when it comes out that he has a crush on you. His crush on you is mainly because he wants to be like you. He sees you as something perfect and he wants that- But he couldn't be further from the truth.

💊🍺 Your life at home is completely different than how you present at school. Your father is a drunk abuser who can never seem to control his anger and your mother is a drug addict always looking for her next fix. It was an embarrassment to be around them and to know that you are half of them- You can only hope you don't end up like them

💊🍺 Boris 100% stalks you, which is how he finds out about your double life. He's got to admit, he's impressed how well you hide it. He thought your parents would be classy rich people living in a big mansion or something

💊🍺 You and Boris end up bonding about the abuse. You don't like when he offers you drugs or alcohol and he doesn't do either around you, even if he wants to, because he doesn't want you to compare/see him as one of your parents. He wants to be your savior

💊🍺 He knows he's not great and that you deserve better, but he can't stand the thought of losing you. He will ruin any relationship you try and build outside of him, so you always come back to him. It took him long enough to get you to be friends with him, he's not going to lose you now.

💊🍺 Emotionally and mentally abuses you, and you don't even realizes it. He mentions how no one else will understand you like he does. He knows everything about you. Are you really willing to go through all this with someone else when he's right here willing for you? He loves you, despite all the shit in your life; Would someone else do the same? Just give in and love him, that's all he wants.

[plantdad-dante]

Book #132 - Hogfather by Terry Pratchett

(I hope 14 year old me is aware that doing that book presentation was not a mistake, you just wanted to tell your peers about the weird christmas book that you love and it's okay if it didn't go well, you still stood up for the thing you enjoyed and that's really heartwarming and nice, actually, and you were right, okay, you were right in loving it!!!)

I'm back. I'm crying. I'm feeling shrimp emotions. Hi.

Banjo lives. He gets to live without being used or abused or manipulated. The match girl lives. She gets to have a future (an immediate future of "grub at the Watch house", but a future nonetheless). That little girl from The Maul gets a sickass sword and is presumably very happy with it. The Beggars get some fancy food that may have actual nutritional value. Hex gets a teddybear. Gawain gets to play marbles with the glass eye of a serial killer. A happy Hogswatch night for everyone.

... except for the other criminals who got murdered by the Tooth Fairy's nightmare tower. Yeah, okay. (which, their story is mostly "horrible criminals are reverting back to children in the face of horror, haha", but jesus, their childhoods are dark. everytime the Lilywhite brothers bring up their mum's funeral, they're like "we saw her be burried" and someone will think "I bet you watched it closely", and like. hng. they needed to make sure that their mother, their teacher, their abuser, was definitely 100% dead and gone and well deep beneath the earth. I'm Normal about this.)

Also, listen, I, too, love "Humans need fantasy to be human", but I feel we need to put it back into its full context more often. The context of "Old gods do new jobs" (in general, just... the Hogfather being an old Solstice god); "The sun would not have risen [...] a mere ball of flaming gas would have illuminated the world"; "and yet you think that a bed is a normal thing"; "you need to believe in things that aren't true. how else can they become". Also, Susan, early on, yells at Death that Hogswatch is a time for "humans to be human", and I love echos like this.

Gods, I could quote this book for ages.

E.g.: When Susan visits Violet's flat, the narration describes how horrendous the thing is, just from a renting perspective alone, and notes "It was amazing how many people spent their whole lives in places where they never intended to stay". Which.... definitely hasn't gotten more relatable since the 90s. Definitely. Not....

Anyway, to wind this up - the most important thing about this book, the thing that made me cry like a helpless child, is the following realization I had: Very close to the end, Susan asks Death why he did it (save Hogswatch), and he pauses, then answers "I think it's something to do with harvests" ... which is a nonsensical thing to say in the context of this book alone, BUT. But. What is the quote from Reaper Man that has rearranged my brain matter for all future time?

"What can the harvest hope for, if not the care of the reaper man?"

Like, he took that to heart. All the way. And I recall all those little moments in the book where he is happy, positively giddy, that he can give people joy. People are happy to see him! They say Thank You! And they leave again, alive! He practically jumps at the chance to save the match girl. He did it all because he cares, because he has to care, because he is Death, and if Death doesn't care, then there might as well be nothing there at all, and what then? There need to be humans to need to care about, who need fantasy to be human, and so he is going to save fantasy, he is going to save the Hogfather.

Listen. I'm a jaded-ass motherfucker who could not give less of a shit about Christmas, but this book. This book gets it? And I... I just... Yeah. Happy Hogswatch.

[despair-to-future-arcs]

Next plan?

*puts the bag away* Okay, I think that's all I have and now-.

[X]

???: Hey Masa, hang on a moment!

Huh? Oh Naoyuki, hey...

Hey, so... I remember that your working for Future Foundation, yeah? I was told many of their members left but you stuck around despite all the shit going on, why didn't you?

Oh... curious of that?

Well, it's not that I'm not fond of it just that compare to the other foundations, Future Foundation is at least stable then the others and I feel a foundation does need stability compare to dictatorship or the lack of background checks.

Well true, you do need stability and I can't deny what your saying about the other foundations.

But an organization that claims itself to be some form of hope and not realize it's own flaws isn't a good one and even choose people based on title then what they isn't exactly representing 'hope' is it?

I mean for god sakes, you have a kid running a Division, don't you? That seems irresponsible.

...Look, I know that may seem bad but don't worry, the kid's mom is running it for her at least.

And yes, I won't deny what your saying - I'm not fond of it either, but it's not like I'm in charge of the foundation myself; I can't make any changes and it's not like most of the foundation wants me to run the place.

Especially when most of them don't trust you because you protected a serial killer and say serial killer is too much of a coward to turn herself in and is even why she went to Towa City.

But that wasn't your fault, that was Hope's Peak Academy; honestly the fact the school pushes any screw ups on the students is pretty mess up - I'm just saying that your talents are better elsewhere, that's all.

Maybe you are right, maybe they are but it's not like I can do much to change anything.

Still, I'm surprise you don't seem to like Hope's Peak Academy but not siding with Ultimate Despair... who are you?

...Someone that had their reasons to not like the school, that's all.

And just because I don't like Hope's Peak Academy, that doesn't mean I'm siding with Despair; hell I think many of those that sided with Junko Enoshima probably felt they were alone and felt they couldn't do anything to fix a broken system and needed to find others.

I see... well, I suppose that does make sense; probably that's why many of those that sided with Junko felt they couldn't do anything but all die for it, it's probably why I could never side with Junko Enoshima or her cause. (He...seems interesting...)

But I gotta go, anyway here I should give you this. *Masa writes down and gives Naoyuki her number*

That's my number if you want to call me, so again - thanks for the help, as say if I find anything I'll be sure to inform you.

*As then Masa gets on her motorcycle and drives off*

*is holding the paper*...

Well... looks like I was wrong about her, she does seem like one of the good ones...

[amateurscribes]

A quick warm-up scene, and essentially a sneak peek for the upcoming Pg. 42 Ln. 5, ‘The Brush of Death’ so uh, enjoy? (This takes place around chapter two of the fic from what my notes are suggesting):

"May I have this dance," an unknown man steps forward, causing Grif to quickly let go of Simmons' hands. Although the man didn't say a name, his hand is outstretched towards him and he only has eyes for Grif.

Now he has a choice here, he can either turn down the stranger and likely accidentally cause a scene which would be bad press or he could plaster on a fake smile and be as cordial as can be.

He shares a quick look with Simmons, and there's a strange look in the other hero's eyes, but nonetheless, he starts to walk towards the refreshment table saying, "I'll meet up with you later, Phantasmagoria."

Well, it's not like anyone could say that he wasn't trained by the 'best' manager. The choice- if it could be called that- was decisively clear.

They were here to entertain and entertainment was something he could do.

"Right," Grif nods at him, before looking back at the stranger. "Nice to meet you, Mr...?"

"Temple," the man supplies. "But you can just call me Mark."

Oh, that's why Simmons had gotten that look. This was the judge in charge of hero affairs for the Justice Bureau.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Grif lies. It was never a pleasure to meet any of these annoying higher-ups. They were always so stiff- especially if they were involved with the law.

Nothing good ever came out of lawyers or judges or politicians or the rest of their ilk.

"Believe me, the pleasure's all mine," the judge said. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, you agreed to a dance?"

As much as he loathed taking the other man's hand, he was very much aware of the eyes that were suddenly turning to them.

Fucking charity balls. Gossip spread quicker than the goddamn plague.

So he took the other man's hand and let him take the lead, not caring to put too much effort in. It was very easy to just let muscle memory kick in, after all of those lessons Dylan made them attend so that they'd be able to not make bumbling fools of themselves.

Which wasn't all that fair considering that most of them were currently wearing their helmets with suits. The only ones in the Second League who looked moderately passable were him and Simmons, but considering that Simmons was still wearing his ornate crown and him his visor circlet they only barely made the cut.

At least his hair was long enough to braid, poor Simmons had to live with the fact that his crown covered most of his hair leaving only tufts peeking out from under.

"You know," the judge speaks up from what had been an otherwise easy moment to blank out of. "I think your power is the most fascinating."

What.

He nearly stops moving, very nearly tripping in his shock, but once again he relies on muscle memory to not draw attention to the pair.

"You look surprised," the man observes. "Did you think I wouldn't know?"

"Yes," he grits out because no one is supposed to know, that's the whole point, the whole shtick. It's what makes him sell-able to the audience.

"It's only reasonable that I know every detail about you heroes," the man shrugs nonchalantly. "After all, I wouldn't want to deliver a sentence on an innocent man for a crime or a damages fine that he didn't do. And for that, it's pertinent that I know whose powers can do what. You see?"

He doesn't respond to that.

"And yours is very underutilized," the man continues. "Only two limitations, yes? The touch of a human and your own imagination. You still occupy space but there's no timer, no drawback, nothing. Haven't you ever wondered what else you could do?"

"No," he snaps, and it's not a lie. Because he knows exactly the extent of his powers, and some judge acting as if he had hidden potential was very quickly souring his mood.

"I wonder," the judge supplies. "In theory, would you be able to cast an illusion over your own face- your own body even- to make you look like something or someone else?"

Once again, he stills. But then relaxes minutely, because it was a posed question and not an accusation.

So it seemed like he could keep some of his secrets after all.

"In theory," Grif throws the man a bone, hoping to get him to back the fuck off.

The judge lets go of Grif, pausing the dance, and somehow during all of that, they've managed to maneuver towards one of the solidarity corners of the ballroom, the judge with his back to the wall.

Pulling out a photo, well worn, the judge asks, "Do you think you could make yourself look like this man through an illusion?"

Squinting his eyes at the photo, he notices the sharp tear on the side and the leftover arm of someone else. The man in question is smiling brightly, arm wrapped around the torn off person, his bright blond hair being the most notable characteristic.

"I'm going to assume you're not going to leave me alone for the rest of the night unless I try out your theory," Grif glares at the man.

His unctuous smile not leaving his face, the judge says, "Well it couldn't hurt to play along, right?"

Keeping his glare on his face, he reaches into his pocket to pull out a bobby pin. Grabbing his braid, he raises it to his head, quickly loops it in a messy crown and pins it into place. He then runs his hand over the area, turning it blond with a simple gesture, eyes glowing blue.

He stares at the photo some more, before tapping his visor to make disappear from view, and he closes his eyes to make them the grey that he sees in the picture.

It's as he opens them that he sees a longing look bleed onto the judges face.

"Who even is that man," Grif asks, and that seems to shock the judge out of whatever had made him go all distant. "A criminal?"

"Ah, no," the judge says, voice wired with unbridled emotions. "He is... a missing man."

"Oh," he tries to muster up fake sympathy but finds he doesn't quite want to, especially not as he wears the mans face for the moment. "Was he married?"

"Yes," Temple nods his head. "He had a wife and a daughter, but I am afraid that Georgina is... no longer with us."

He's not enough of an idiot to not catch the familiarity that radiates from the man.

"What of the daughter? Are you taking care of her now that both her parents are gone," he asks.

"She's being well taken care of," the man supplies. "Or at least, that's what Mrs. Grey has assured me of."

Letting the illusion slip away, Grif finds that he is way more uncomfortable right now than he had been when Dylan had forced them all into suits earlier that day.

"Well, your theory bears truth," he says. "And you've had your dance. Now if you would excuse me, sir, I'm going to take my leave."

There's a strange look on the judge's face, but he nods saying, "That's only fair. I hope our paths will meet again, Phantasmagoria."

Not staying to give the man a response, he turns around and starts walking towards where Simmons is awkwardly holding a champagne glass.

He needed a stiff drink.

But behind him, the judge still hasn't moved.

And Grif thinks he isn't supposed to hear the man mutter, "Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"

That fucker was a fan of Shakespeare, was he? Fine, two could play at this game.

"I pray you do not fall in love with me. For I am falser than vows made in wine," Grif quotes loud enough for the other man to hear. He smirks a tad as he delivers the next line, "Besides, I like you not."

Shock blossoms onto the judges face, but disappointingly it's not followed by embarrassment. Which, ok, sure thing asshole, don't respond when called out on your creepiness.

Not garnering the reaction he had hoped, he goes to Simmons and the other heroes like he should have done earlier.

[tsuki-sennin]

Itadakimasu~! Time for another great Sunday lunch with our Cure friends~! Today I'm having a couple slices of leftover pizza. And what a crap pizza it is. Very flat and floppy, the cheese is all off, the pepperoni is weak... I don't even know who made it, the box it came in just said "Pizza!" And let me tell you, microwaving it just made me real sad.

Anyways, Spoilers, I guess...

-Chururin, the world's deadliest serial killer.

-CureSta seems a lot less terrible than the real thing, I tell you what.

-Wǒ ài lāmiàn~! I'd argue that the professional kind is worth moving straight to the Far East for.

-Mem-Mem,,,

-Member's Only Churro Kururun Glutten Free Meme Dragon.

-Hanamichi~! Good to see you.

-That's a whole-ass panda.

-I rarely order ramen from actual restaurants, and I'm personally more of an udon kinda guy anyway, but last year, I ordered a bowl of noodles from a semi-local sushi place with shio broth, bamboo shoots, spinach, a whole boiled egg, and some narutomaki. Now I'm told that the perfect compliment to any perfectly crafted bowl of noodles is a beer, but I couldn't buy any at the time, so...

-Yui Nagomi, a connoisseur fluent in the art of noodle.

-Ran's dad lookin' pretty DILF-y, ngl. Kinda looks like Tao Pai Pai from Dragon Ball though. Makes sense, considering Toei Animation, but...

-The passion in the art of fine cuisine is nothing to be ashamed of.

-Ramen Fairy~! They bring

-Chururin~!

-Mari-chan, she's already seen the Recipeppi, I don't think covering poor Mem-Mem's gonna do much.

-Oyone :O

-Do ALL the old people in this town know each other?

-Act natural, Mem-Mem. Ran won't suspect a thing.

-Panda Get!

-Dwagon...

-Oh yeah, there's a ton of fairies! Mermaids too! And aliens, and time travel! Robots too!

-Ran's got poise!

-The power of love for cuisine...

-God, Gentle is like... peak character design.

-And yes, I'm calling her Gentle. "Jentoru" is that word written in katakana, Gentlu is a stupid romanization, Crunchyroll sucks, moving on.

-I guess they wouldn't show up in a public library, even in a food-devoted town like this.

-PRESIDENT AMANE IS GENTLE :O

-I mean, it's not that big a twist, considering how similar their designs are, but damn.

-...Cure Gentle confirmed?

-We're having a sale~!

-Working for a day, huh?

-Damn, I've got a hankerin' for ramen now. Even the cheap stuff feels like a gentle mid-summer kiss if you use the right ingredients!

-Ramen Musume. Coming soon to HiDive.

-Mem-Mem said "Peace out, yo."

-We're gonna share an asswhoopin!

-He go zoom.

-Oh man, I just realized. It's not just the food that suffers, it's business too!

-Beat 'em up, Ram!

-Ohhhhhh, bringin' up the price. That's cruel.

-Oh c'mon Mari, she's been working all day and has been getting tossed around for like five minutes. She's earned a big fuck-off bowl of premium ramen.

-Yeeeeeah, that's right Mari! Kokone too!

-Hanyaaaa~!

-Fuck 'em up, sweetie!

-Get 'er!

-Daaaamn, Mem-Mem got some fire!

-Mega sized rarity!

-Yum-Yum Dragon! Are you ready? Wake up burning! Get Yum-Yum Dragon! Yeah~!

-Cure Yum-Yum is the funniest and cutest goddamn name I've ever heard.

-Ohhhh, she got slashes!

-Traingles, Circles, and now Lines... Geometry.

-Well, two seems like the minimum Cure number, so...

-They're all together now!

-Yui-pyon~! Koko-pi~! Yep, definitely OT3 material.

-Marippe~!

-Our gurl is an influencer! ...I sure hope she doesn't find herself in cancellation range.

-Mmm... pineapple juice. Great for immune system health and heart rates.

-A tour of the town, huh? That sounds like a great time! I hope nothing wacky or uncharacteristic happens~!

-Man, PreCure towns just seem like the best place to be in the world, no matter the season, huh? ...the travel blog potential must be incredible.

-Alright, I uh... wound up getting a real hankerin' for some ramen, but I'll be coming back later today for Revice content! Probably over dinner, judging by the way my schedule currently looks right now.

[the-coffee-story]

Coffee - The Plague Doctor's Revenge

Chapter 11 - Back on the Motorway Bridge

"So how exactly do you plan to find him?", Thasfield asked when they were standing on the top floor of the parking lot ten minutes later. An icy wind was blowing around the trio. Coffee shivered.

Violet nodded, smiled, then took a deep breath. "We, uh, have no idea."

"Oh, wonderful," Sean mumbled and Violet glared at him.

"Hey Cof," she suddenly said, turning to him. His head jolted up. "Hm?"

"What's the best hiding places in Graytown if you're trying not to be spotted?"

"Hmm." He furrowed his brows, trying to find the words. Then he realized Thasfield wasn't fluent in sign language anyway and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

"I'd say the motorway bridge, it's a good spot to look across the city without being seen. On the other hand I left some stuff up there, so I'm not sure whether anyone would stay for long. Depends on how willing he is to risk meeting someone else."

Violet narrowed her pretty green eyes. "So you suggest we search there?"

Coffee shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"At least that's where I stayed most of the time while the whole drama happened."

Violet suddenly got flustered and started running a hand through her curls in embarrassment. "Oh my God. You heard us, right?"

Coffee felt himself flushing red when he remembered hearing her and Franklin exchanging meaningless little flirts a few months ago, words she'd meant to say to him, not his brother. "Uh-huh."

Violet groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."

"Uhm." Thasfield cleared his throat. "Can we get back on topic?"

"Right. Sorry." Violet blew her hair out of her face. "Motorway bridge."

***

"So you hid here for...what was it? A couple months?", Thasfield asked while they were climbing up a narrow metal ladder to the grating of the bridge. Coffee nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Doesn't look very comfortable."

He shrugged his shoulders and reached out to the dusty grating.

"Sorry, I forgot you can't talk right now."

Coffee giggled and waved it off. Then he climbed through the hole in the grating.

Thasfield's square face grew worried when he saw the hole. "I...well, I'm not sure whether I'll fit through-"

"Come on, even Doc did," Violet's throaty voice came from the darkness behind him. She was barely visible in the shadows save for the glint of her eyes.

"Have you seen him?!", Thasfield countered. "He's a stick!"

"Yeah, one that is 6'8 long!"

"Alright, alright." He sighed. Coffee held his hand out and Thasfield took it.

The catwalk was narrow and dusty. Cobwebs clung to the concrete around them while Coffee led the others through the labyrinth. Their only source of light was the city across the river and more than once he could hear a metallic clunk when one of them bumped into a pipe followed by cussing.

"I hate spiders," Thasfield mumbled after running face forward into the third web of the night. He spat over the dusty railing of the catwalk. "Bah! Disgusting!"

"Yeah, I doubt your coat will still be black once we get out of here," Violet commented in a whisper. Her smirk was audible.

Coffee gently ducked when he noticed a freshly torn web in front of them. He raised his hand to signal a stop.

"What is it?", Violet asked.

He pointed at the web.

"Someone was here," Thasfield whispered.

"It's fresh," Coffee signed. "Whoever passed through is still here."

Suddenly they heard a shuffle from the dark catwalk in front of them. Coffee jumped.

"Against the wall, quick!", Thasfield hissed.

They lined up against the cold concrete, side by side, having no idea what was going to happen next. Coffee's heartbeat was drumming in his ears, so loud that a part of him feared the Plague Doctor might hear him.

Then a sound echoed through the labyrinth of steel and concrete. A quiet wince of pain. Coffee glanced over to the others.

"He's hurt," he signed. Violet nodded. Her green eyes shimmered in the dark. Her breath was forming clouds around her. One of her hands was clutching her belly in fear.

Suddenly a silhouette appeared in the darkness of the corridor. They could hear irregular footsteps coming closer. He walks with a limp, Coffee thought. In his mind he counted through every strategy of self defense he could use if necessary, then realized the only thing that gave him a realistic chance in case the plan went wrong was a quick escape Spiderman-style. Even then, his experiences had proven that the Plague Doctor was just as good as him. The only thing he could hope for was that everything would go well.

The Plague Doctor turned his head a little and the lights of the city reflected in the tinted glass of his mask, making it look like his eyes were glowing red.

Coffee's hand slid into Violet's and she gently squeezed it.

And suddenly the stranger turned his head and stared directly at them.

Coffee's eyes widened and he felt the blood draining from his face. Violet's pulse was hammering in his hand and he could hear Thasfield's breath racing. The metal beneath his feet seemed to bend and the world felt like it was spiraling out of control. He realized he was about to faint and angrily bit his lip to keep himself conscious.

The Plague Doctor was frozen still.

Both parties spent at least a minute staring at each other, unable to move, paralyzed by terror.

"Please don't hurt me...!", the Plague Doctor finally whispered. His voice was surprisingly soft, with a velvety German accent.

Violet blinked. "I...yeah, I was about to say the same."

"Oh." He tilted his head in confusion. "You're... you're not here to...?"

"Nope." That was Thasfield. "Actually we came here to check whether you need any help."

"Oh." He looked a little overwhelmed. "I...okay, this is awkward." He nervously laughed. "Uh...tschuldigung, I mean, sorry, I...wasn't expecting anyone here-"

Violet waved it off. "No, we have to apologize, we scared you."

"Who are you?", the Plague Doctor asked.

"We're private investigators," Thasfield explained. He was surprisingly calm. Then again, as a former serial killer he was probably used to stuff like this. "I'm Sean, here's Violet and Coffee."

Coffee waved and smiled shakily.

"Uh...hallo." The Plague Doctor nervously brushed a black curl out of his face. His silky hair reached his knees. From up close Coffee could see a few silver strands in it.

"What's your name?", Thasfield asked.

He hesitated.

"Keine Ahnung, erm...can I trust you?"

Violet shrugged her shoulders. "That's your decision, really."

He hesitated.

"My name is Wilhelm Wisper."

***

He'd gone through hell. He didn't say it out loud but it was apparent. The limp, the missing arm, the fact that the mask stayed on told them more than words.

Wilhelm told them everything. They'd had a fight. She'd thrown a burning candle at him. His sleeve had caught fire. She'd fled.

"What are you gonna do now?"

Coffee handed his phone to Wilhelm, who quickly read through the message.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Keine Ahnung. Wait until there's some evidence against Eugenia, then strike and try to prove it was her fault. And in the meantime I'll stay here, I guess."

"Our co-worker Doc Tilch is coming back from Scotland this evening with evidence," Thasfield quietly said. "Perhaps we'll find something."

"Thank you."

"You could come with us," Violet suggested.

Wilhelm flinched a little. "I... I'm not sure whether that'd be good."

"Uh...do you have a phone then?"

"Ja. I mean...yes." He dug through the pockets of his dusty black jacket and took out a black Samsung with a shattered display.

"Can I get your phone number so we can call you if something new happens?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Klar."