#-virgil appears briefly-

[the-siphonophore]

Looking through my phone camera roll, nostalgic for the life I never lived- one of my more telling plurality moments that I didn't give thought for a long time, due to having enough mental illness that I figured that was it. Nope, that picture was taken by Solly, and that picture is from Hazel, and that one was Oni's, and none of them are mine because I'm not a visual thinker and I don't take many photos. Every now and then I'll wish I did, so I can have a place in the camera roll too, but then I remember I have lots of other places in my(our) life, like having dominated our saved-music files for over five years now, and developing our nearly system-wide artstyle. Life comes in many strange ways, but being a system has been one of my favorites

- Virgil

[the-siphonophore]

Tossing it under a cut for unsuspecting passers-by

We do have a headspace! We've had it since a few months after syscovery, and had to partially build it. Or more accurately we had to try to build it to be able to see it. Someone would try to design something, but the image wouldn't stick, and then later when they stop paying attention there it would be, different from their picture, but in essense, there. (Ex: to add a lighting fixture above the dining table, picturing a candelabra with little success, and later discovering an electric bulb under a glass covering)

As for what it looks like, it's quite sparse so far. I think one day we'll be able to have it properly furnished and consistent but details use too much mental bandwidth at the moment. Our headspace is a sort of house, though instead of a front door and entry there's the fronting room which is an observatory. The external world is seen through the large glass dome as though the body's eyes were cameras, and we were watching a movie. The rest of the headspace is attached by a door and hall, and has rooms for each headmate except Fabian, who spends most of his time outside and bunks with someone else when it rains. Outside is accessed through the back door. Other than that there's the kitchen and dining-livingroom combo, which rarely has a dining table and is usually just a brown couch and a few armchairs with some lamps and a red rug and blanket basket

SYSTEMS!!!!! I gots question

do you guys have a headspace? if so, what does it look like?

tell me I'm curious

[loganslowdown4]

Flirting With Social Anxiety only had Thomas Roman and Virgil in it right? RIGHT?!

Nope!

Patton and Logan made appearances too!

Very briefly

Very very briefly!!!

They were there—

I PROMISE they were there lol

(The hint apart from Thomas doing subtle impressions is that Virgil’s eyeshadow going back to black is the dead giveaway. Logan and Patton’s qualities can be cringy to him lol)

[tagsecretsanta]

From @womble1

From @womble1 to @sailing-on-a-puddle

Prompt used: Kip Harris comes to dinner at the end of Flame Out

Completed by Womble1

Kip Harris had just finished tucking up his trusty little truck in the fire hall. It was the last one to park up, the rest of his team having made it back just before him. The air in the garage space was smokey, carrying that earthy bite distinctive of forest fires. But, better than lingering methane. Taking a last look to make sure that all the equipment was restocked and stashed just how he liked it ready for the next call, he picked up his hat and went to climb out of the truck.

Kip Harris was the kind of man who didn’t startle easily. It was essential in his line of work, and key to how he had managed to rack up so many years of experience without becoming a charred footnote on an incident report. However, the involuntary muscular spasm that made it appear that he jumped did tally suspiciously with the unexpected holocal appearing from his dashboard.

After a few totally normally paced heartbeats, Kip recognised the young man he had spoken to earlier when petitioning International Rescue for help. 

“Hi Mister Harris, I hear you’re joining us for dinner.”

“I guess that's so, young man.” he drawled, waiting to see where this was going.

“Well you might need a lift, we’re a little off the main highways,” there was a half hint of a smile under the assumed professionalism. Kip wasn’t sure what the joke was but he knew there was one. He gave the boy the benefit of the doubt and assumed he wasn’t about to become the joke. The other one…Virgil, he reminded himself, he prided himself on remembering names, it was a sign of respect, Virgil had seemed so earnest that Kip had taken the invitation as genuine. He had learnt over the years to roll with whatever life threw at him, and you never quite knew where an unexpected invitation might take you. 

The ghost of a smile had vanished as quick as it had arrived, and been promptly replaced with the same swift professionalism that Kip had noted in their first interaction. 

“We’ll send someone over to pick you up in about 2 hours if that’s alright Mister Harris.”

“Much obliged.” and he touched the brim of his hat briefly. 

Shadow touched down precisely 2 hours later, her motorbike section swapped for a module with a passenger seat. Kayo kept her steely poker face and politely ignored the ungainly noises the great Kip Harris made whilst trying to contort himself into the spare seat. She also keyed a quick message to John to ask him to run distraction at the other end so the poor man could climb out again without an audience. A job which John completed with his usual efficient economy of effort. Which in this case meant delegating to Gordon. 

Gordon achieved this by dressing himself up in ski gear which had last seen the light of day in Scotts early teens and jamming every possible zip fastening. Because as everyone knows, jammed zips can only be fixed by a grandmother's gentle persuasion. Ok, maybe not a widely known saying, but Gordon played it for all he was worth, monopolising his grandmother's attention like a pro. In fact, what started as a 2 minute ad-lib piece, was quickly extended to a 10 minute improv performance at Scotts hasty command. 

Scott and John, had been drawn with a sense of dread by the charred smell emanating from the kitchen. They had caught a glimpse of the culinary delights prepared by their loving grandmother, and the call to stall was sent out via morse code to Gordons watch. 

“What I don’t understand is why she cremated lasagne from scratch when we have some in the chiller already, the nice stuff.” John was staring at the far more inviting cheese topped tray where it sat, still blissfully charcoal free, in the refrigerator. There was a wistful glint in his eye for the meal that could have been.

Scott prodded at the carbon encased remains that were left after Grandma had dished up all the portions. She had joyfully called it “extra in case anyone wanted seconds” and put it back in the oven.

“We can’t make Mr Harris eat this, Virgil will never forgive us if his hero chokes to death on….on whatever went into this.” it had a certain sulphur tang.

“It’s not like we have a lot of choice. Kayo is already inbound and this dish will never warm through in time.” Big enough to feed a family with a heavy percentage of “growing boys”, the catering sized lasagne took up the entire shelf. 

Scott shut the oven door decisively, squared his shoulders and turned to John. “Let's work the problem then. Give me options Thunderbird Five.”

John sighed, there was no fighting it when Scott got like this. Yes, it was what made him an amazing leader out in the field, but in the domestic setting it could get a bit grating, especially for a man who had already spent far too many hours that day “working the problem” and frankly all he wanted was comfort food and maybe a hot bath. 

“Antacids and a lot of wine?” John shrugged feebly. 

“No, I think you were on to something with the chilled lasagne,” Scott started pacing around the kitchen island, always working better when he was on the move. 

“Only raw lasagne isn’t going to pose any less of a risk than the crispy one. I said, it’s too big to cook in time.”

“Ok, but what if it wasn’t.” Scott shot back, still not slowing his pacing.

John dragged a hand down his face, “But it is.” he pointed out. 

“Yes, but it doesn’t need to be.” Scott replied, pleased with himself.

John frowned and considered pre-drinks. “Come again?”

“We don’t need to heat all of it, if we can just get enough so that we don’t kill our guest, then everyone else can make do with the….with the original?”

John screwed his face up at the thought of it. 

“Oh, come on John, we’ve managed worse. Push it around your plate a bit and raid the snack stash later.” 

John shrugged and conceded with a limp nod. Scott had a point, but that didn’t mean John needed to be happy about it. “Fine, we can probably make that work, but you’re the one swapping it out.”

“Fine,” the risk taker in Scott took that condition in his stride, knowing that without John on his side the plan would be 100 times harder. “How much do you think we can heat up in…” Scott glanced at his watch, “.. four minutes.”

“One portion,” John answered, quick as a flash, “and it's going in the microwave.” 

“Boys! Make yourselves presentable, and don’t you go messing with my place settings. I’ll know if you’ve stolen any garlic bread! I’m going to greet our guest!” Grandma hollered down the stairs before diverting to the elevators to head off their visitor. Gordon followed close behind, shedding pieces of skiwear as he jumped through the closing doors. 

Thankfully, Gordons’ distraction had done the trick and by the time Sally made it down Kit had been able to extract himself from Shadows passenger seat with a little dignity still intact, and Kayo was leading him across the hangar floor towards the lifts. 

“Hi again! Glad you could join us” Gordon stepped around his grandmother waving. 

“Thank you for the invitation,” he took Gordons offered hand and gave it a hearty shake. “And who would this be?” Kip asked, turning.

“Oh that's Grandma” Gordon provided.

Kip held out his hand in greeting. “Well I can’t rightly be callin’ you Grandma now can I? It’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

“Sally,” she beamed back, as he doffed his hat with his free hand, not yet releasing hers. “You can call me Sally.” she giggled. “The boys said you knew Jeff?”

“We met just the once, at a training facility for advanced fire safety training. I used to help run a few sessions. Supplemented the income and kept the skills up to date. You never learn more than when you're helping others learn.” he said solemnly. “Jeff Tracy certainly had some original ideas for tackling the practice simulations, thinkin’ outside the box doesn’t usually involve setting light to the box. But pushing boundaries is how you grow, and eyebrows grow back on their own eventually.” he chuckled. 

Gordon was all ready to dive in and ask some more questions around that one, and possibly provide a few eyebrow singing anecdotes of his one, but Grandma physically steered her guest towards the lift up to the residential levels. 

Back in the kitchen it was all go! Microwave technology was deployed to a neatly extracted portion of shop bought lasagne.John managed not to cry as he put the rest of the dish back in the refrigerator. Scott had been sent up to the dining room to complete the swap out as soon as the pasta was steaming hot. 

Scott bobbed on the balls of his feet, restless as he waited in the little used room. It was a space that had been part of the architects’ “vision” and fitted with the billionaire private island brief, but in reality it didn’t really fit the families needs. They weren’t hosting the kind of swanky dinner parties that the architect envisioned. The long glass topped table that sat 12, with chandeliers running its whole length and high backed chairs were meant to add contrast to the natural stone wall running one side of the room, and the expansive glass windows running the other. Scott had always wondered why it had survived beyond the drawing board stage at all, but it did offer the foundations for Virgil's studio space on the floor above, and Scott could see why their father had been keen to keep that design choice. Life on the island revolved much more around the kitchen table, just as it had for generations, they were “new money” after all. 

Scott drummed his fingers on the table, but stopped when he realised that he was leaving fingerprints on the glossy surface. He looked up and down the table again, their grandmother had already laid out the portions of lasagne (?) in each place, they wouldn't even be able to get away with just taking a smaller piece. 

He eyed up the place settings and tried to work out where Mr Harris might be expected to sit. They didn’t have their own preferred seats in here like they did at the kitchen table, so there was much more guesswork involved. She would probably insist he sit facing the view, because it was the best part of the room. Virgil was likely to claim a seat opposite. Brains usually preferred end seats, but might be drawn nearer if the conversation went to technical improvements. Kayo always took a corner, clear views and clear exits. Alan would probably be at Gordons side, and Gordon always made sure to pick somewhere with enough space for two because he knew that Alan got a little nervous when there were new people around, even if you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him now he was older. Scott usually ended up wherever was left, much like John, but somehow the others usually orchestrated things so that Scott was near the exit in case he got called away, and a quiet corner for John in case he was at his limit for people for the day. 

That left one strong contender for their guests’ seat. Decided, Scott saw the light on the dumbwaiter turn green. Another remnant from the life the architect thought they would be living, but it did save lugging dishes across the villa and made the clear up less arduous. Reaching in, Scott nearly burnt his fingers on the hot plate, hissing, he quickly switched out the offending plate, replaced it with the far more appetising alternative and was just working out what to do with the excess burnt offering when John's hologram popped up from the table unit. 

“Quick, get out of there now! They’re coming, she can’t find you in there Scott, she’ll assume you’ve been at the bread.”

Adrenaline coursed through Scotts veins, he absolutely could not get caught, not after the last time, he’d only just regained garlic bread privileges. He strode towards the door.

“Too late, she's on the stairs, hide!” John urgently whispered, before blinking out of existence. 

“Hide? Where!?” all Scott could see was windows and glass! The sideboard was full of charger plates and serving dishes that saw as little use as the room, no chance of hiding in there. Then he saw it, the dumbwaiter. It would be a squeeze, but Scott knew he could manage it. For once grateful that the architect had thought big when it came to entertaining. Although big was relative, flinging the burnt food in the sideboard, a problem for later, Scott  climbed onto the top of the counter and concertina’d himself into the narrow lift. Sliding the door closed with his fingertips, he jabbed at his comms watch “call the lift! Call lift!” he hissed when John appeared. A mechanical clunk confirmed that his orders had been actioned and Scott would have let out a sigh of relief if there had been enough space left, but with his knees pushing firming into his chest Scott made do with briefly resting his forehead against his leg. 

Alan looked like his jaw might drop off in surprise when he was instructed to open up the kitchen  hatch, only to find Scott curled up in the small space within. Alan remained standing there, lost for words as Scott extricated himself out with no little difficulty. He was nearly set for a collision course with the hard kitchen floor, when Kayo materialised at his side and hoisted his torso up while he got his feet under him. Once again Kayo was required to politely ignore old man noises as, for the second time that day, she prayed that the popping joint sounds didn't mean something had dislocated.

Grabbing Alan by the scruff of his shirt, and Scott by an elbow, she steered them in the direction of the dining room without a word. John tried to distance himself from the whole thing by keeping out of her eye line, even though he knew that was a futile hope. 

As they walked into the room Grandma was steering Mr Harris to his seat… the wrong seat. Scott hadn’t taken into consideration the angle of the sun at this point of the day, and the place Scott had earmarked was no longer the prime position at the table. John was being directed to the table setting where the one and only edible portion of lasagna was steaming gently. 

Alan walked past as Scott calculated the new state of play, making his way to the seat Scott had predicted for him. Kayo also claimed her seat according to Scotts’ plan. At least some things didn't change. Gordon was just walking past the end of the table having just set the water jug back on the sideboard, seemingly going back to take his seat next to Alan. Another peg in the right hole, but how to get all the other pieces to align? Scott sized up his options and took action.  It was going to take a Tracy Fix. He stuck his foot out, silently promising to apologise to Gordon later, and his brother tripped and went flying across the thankfully plush carpet. It had always seemed an odd choice for a dining room, but Scott didn’t question it now. Gordon rolled into a well practiced breakfall mostly by muscle memory, Scott knew he would be fine. While everyone was distracted Scott gestured to John with a combination of desperate hand movements and cobbled together ASL, he made it very clear that the lasagne needed to be relinquished and swapped with Kips this instant, and no puppy dog eyes or pouty faces were going to change that. 

The disappointment was clear in his face, but John quickly complied, and relocated the plates with no verbal complaint. 

It was the work of a split second, and Scott was able to help Gordon back to his feet before anyone could notice. 

Scott took the last remaining seat, the satisfied feeling of a successfully completed mission was quickly overtaken with revulsion when he looked down at the quickly congealing charred lump that was sat where his dinner ought to be. Oh well, he had overcome worse, he grabbed a fork with the same forced calmness of someone facing a root canal. 

The meal progressed, with carbonised lumps of pasta being chased around plates and hidden under salad leaves. Grandma barely touched hers, mostly because she was far too distracted by her dining companion. Mr Harris seemed quite willing to regale his audience with anecdotes from interesting experiences throughout his professional career. An observer would have been hard pressed to decide who was hanging off his every word more - Grandma or Virgil.

The next crisis forced itself to the forefront of everyone's attention with the high pitched beeping of the kitchen fire alarm. It was all systems go, and everyone raced down the stairs. But the drama was short lived,as they were greeted by the sigh of Max deploying a fire extinguisher directly into the warming oven where the crumble that Grandma had left crisping had caught fire. 

It was declared inedible by all including Grandma. Although Kips revelation that he had lost a significant proportion of his sense of smell and taste after a couple of interesting chemical fires early in his career forced Scott to have to fake a coughing fit in order to cover John's plaintive whine. Kip would have happily stayed discussing fire extinguisher suppression foam with Virgil and Brains had Grandma not suggested a sunset stroll on the beach.

Once the couple left, the stampede to the larder was akin to a full body contact sport. So much so that nobody noticed Max gliding off in the opposite direction looking as suspicious as it is possible for a quadrupedal robot to look. It was, however, noted that some of the snacks stash seemed to have already been taxed, but with a constantly active island population it was impossible to confidently attribute blame. Brains was able to enjoy a spot of supper a safe distance from the howling cacophony coming from the pantry.

Bags of chips were launched through the air, snatched mid flight by other eager hands. Packets of cookies spun over heads, sometimes bouncing off a shoulder only to be scrabbled at and claimed before it had any chance of hitting the floor.

Gordon, who had been complaining of a sore knee and pointedly looking at Scott for most of the meal, was now bodily hoisting Alan out of reach of a tray of jealously guarded and specially imported Reeses cups. These were quickly nabbed by a pasty arm with freakishly long reach, so the point was quickly moot.  

Kayo ducked under one arm, jabbed a sensitive pressure point to her left and poked at ribs to her right with pinpoint accuracy. Through this method she manoeuvred through the brawling, scooped her preferred snacks up into one arm and exited the fray as quick as she had arrived. A collective groan was heard when the remaining combatants realised she had taken the last bag of Doritos , but nobody felt like challenging her for them as she sat, calm as a cucumber, eating her haul at the kitchen table, watching events unfold, a dispassionate 3rd party. 

Alan was lifted by the scruff of his shirt by Virgil after he threatened to bite Gordon. He was forcibly parked at the table next to Kayo with a bowl of carrot batons from the refrigerator. 

It was at this point that John remembered the tray of lasagne, with its single slice already removed. Only seconds passed before the others realised what John was up to and in no time at all a lasagne heating production line was in place. Dolloped portions of pasta and sauce made their way in and out of the microwave with well practiced efficiency. Teamwork at it’s best. 

By the time Grandma was leading her guest back towards the villa in the hope of a willing taxi driver, the dishes had been stacked in the dishwasher and all evidence of the meal had been eradicated, baring the contented smiles on faces. 

Unfortunately none of them were quick enough to stop their grandmother from pressing a box of leftovers on her poor unsuspecting guest. John's shrug signaled that by this point it was felt that Mr Harris could fend for himself, they had tried their best. A sentiment that all others present were quite willing to sign up to. 

[snowdice]

Envisage a Better Place to Sleep, Virgil! (Part 3) [Part of the Envisage Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Roman & Virgil

Characters: Roman, Virgil

Summary: A collection of mini fics detailing all of the times Roman has found Virgil�� sleeping in odd places after moving in together.

Chapter Summary: Virgil is a helpful cryptid who returns all of your lost stuff.

Notes: Superhero AU, Fluff, Inappropriate Sleeping Places

This takes place after Best Laid Plans and is part of the Labeled Universe.

Part 1 Part 2

To be fair, Roman never used his desk. He usually worked on schoolwork on campus in the library or the student union and occasionally he’d work at an off-campus coffee shop. The rare times he did study at home, he usually did so on the couch. His desk had become more of a storage location and bookshelf. You could rarely see the top of the desk, especially since Roman had a tendency to throw extra blankets and pillows in its general direction when he was done with them.

To not be fair, it was Roman’s desk… in Roman’s room… at 3pm (aka during one of Virgil’s classes).

“Ow,” came from the bundle of “blankets” under his desk when Roman accidentally kicked it. He’d been sitting down to look for a notebook he’d lost at some point between class last week and lecture this morning.

“What are you even doing down there?” Roman asked in leu of an apology. He didn’t move to get up, but he did move his foot back. He could not see Virgil’s face, but he could see a telltale puff of black hair sticking out from one of the blankets.

“Napping.”

“Under my desk?”

“Your desk sits over a heater,” Virgil replied. “And you have a lot of blankets here.”

Which, okay, that second part was Roman’s fault. What did he expect at this point? Blankets were Virgil magnets.

“…Have you seen a green notebook with stars on it?”

The blankets next to Roman’s feet shifted and he heard a soft scraping noise. A hand briefly appeared, dropping the notebook at his feet before retreating. “It had slid down and fallen behind the desk,” Virgil said.

“Well, your habits are useful for something at least,” Roman said picking up the notebook. “You doing okay? Don’t you have class right now?”

“Professor canceled class,” Virgil said.

“Cool,” Roman said. “Well, I’m going to The Hideout. You want to come? Or I can bring you something back.”

Virgil sighed an amusingly weary sigh. “Give me 20 minutes?”

“Works for me.”

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 15

⚠️ Trigger Warning for angst/whump

❤️💚💜🩷 🚒🧑‍🚒

There was something unnerving about seeing the strongest person she knew, crumpled unconscious on the floor.

Tam found him cocooned around his Grandmother - sleeping soundly like a child who had sought out the comfort of a parent during a storm.

It all seemed so peaceful, but for the obvious devastation peppered over, and around them. And, of course, the glaring fact that Virgil was, indeed, unconscious, and not asleep.

Her heart panged hard, as she finally remembered to breathe, her chest shuddering with the deep inhalation.

The family didn't deserve this - well, most people didn't; but, it went double for the Tracys. It wasn't so much that they put their lives on the line on a daily basis; that debt of gratitude went without saying. It was perhaps the fact that she'd had the privilege of spending time with the family during her training; breaking bread with them in the evenings, sharing new stories she hadn't heard at the firehouse a gazillion-plus times. Somewhere during their training, Phoenix had shed their associate titles and had emerged as friends; which made this rescue so much harder than her average John or Jane Doe.

"Mrs. Tracy?"

"Told yer a thousand times kid; Sally suits me just fine. Mrs.Tracy is reserved for our shareholders, and Brains - who I've given up trying to change.

"Sally," she corrected herself, feeling a sudden warmth fill her face.

"How are you holding up?" Tam scrambled to unpack her medkit.

"I'll be a lot better once this brave idiot is off me. Can't breathe."

Tam paused a moment, and frowned. Virgil's weight was only partially resting on Sally; his body angled in such a manner as not to crush her. She wondered briefly if that had been at all planned on Virgil's part.

"Level with me kid, what are you thinking?"

Tam had a lot of time for Sally; she was brave, kind-hearted and wonderfully feisty - especially given her age, which she guessed was a taboo topic, here on Tracy Island. The woman was also far too sharp-witted to have the wool pulled over her eyes.

She sighed, continuing to work, as she analyzed the scene before her.

"I think the initial impact of your fall may be the real reason behind the pain you have breathing. Virgil's been careful to lie in a way that would not crush you."

"Sure sounds like him. So?"

"So...we need to check for injuries."

There was a confidence in her voice that she did not feel - or rather, she was confident about things; procedures, protocol, her job. But, inwardly, having not one, but numerous people she cared about (more than she perhaps should, given the amount of time she'd actually spent in their company) she'd admit it; this rescue had her shook. Tam buried the feeling deep, and ran the scan.

"How're they doing?"

Tam looked up from the scan to see the youngest Tracy approaching.

"Alan?" Sally's voice rasped out.

"Sally, you have three broken ribs; but as far as I can see, they've not caused any significant injuries to the surrounding area,"

She passed the med-scanner to Alan, who concurred.

"Well, Grandma; I'd say that's earned you a VIP stay in Tracy Island's very own infirmary. Don't worry, I've heard the doctors there are very good-looking!"

"I wasn't aware that Kip was a doctor too!"

"What? Eww! No!"

Grandma's chuckle was instantly switched for a grimace of pain.

Alan gently rescued a hand on her shoulder.

"Hel-p Vir-gil," she breathed.

"Tam's doing just that, Grandma. Penny and myself will look after you. It'll give Tam the space she needs to properly help Virg."

A hover stretcher, followed by a well-spoken lady appeared. And, before-long, Sally, Alan, and the woman - Penny vanished. Tam couldn't exactly say when. Her attention now firmly on the one member of International Rescue who had yet to regain consciousness.

[docgold13]

The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

More Static

As a teenager, Virgil Hawkins was granted metahuman abilities by way of exposure to the mysterious Quantum Vapor.  He used his electrokinetic powers to become the superhero known as Static.  As an adult, Virgil continued to operate as Static, protecting his home city of Dakota.  He additionally joined the Justice League and became renown as one of earth’s greatest heroes.

Later in his adulthood, Virgil married and had a son.  He continued to operate as Static and was captured by the terrorist organization known as Kobra.  These villains held the hero ransom demanding the release of their leader from incarceration.  Fortunately the plot was thwarted by Batman (Terry McGinnis) with the aid of a time-displaced younger version of Static.   A freed Static briefly met his younger self before he returned to his proper place in the time-stream.  

In his sixties, Static was once more embroiled in an adventure involving time travel.  The despotic Chronos had seized control of the time-stream and Static joined forces with the original Justice League to bring the villain down.  

The mighty Phil LaMarr provided the voice for Static with the electrical hero first appearing in the premier episode of Static Shock.  

[clydesavage-thefox147]

Calling all Prinxiety Shippers, this analysis is for you!💜❤️

So, I have had my eyes set on Virgil's Spotify Playlist for a while now. And a few songs have caught my attention that I'd like to talk about.

The one in particular that I will discuss here is "Sally's Song" covered by Amy Lee from Evanescence, originally by Catherine O-Hara. A classic song from the even more classic movie The Nightmare before Christmas. Now, it's understandable why Virgil would have this song on there. It's from one of his favorite movies, it's a designated emo staple with lines like "We can live like Jack and Sally if we want" in Blink-182's "I Miss You", and overall it's Tim Burton which he's shown interest in as well. But, I wonder why this song in particular. He could've picked "This is Halloween" or "Jack's Lament" but..he picks "Sally's Song"? This isn't the only time he's been affiliated with this song either. In the 2020 Holiday Show, Thomas covered it in reference to Virgil's celebration of the holidays.

It's been stated that the songs on each playlist are on there for a reason. Some songs on each are directed specifically at another Side. I think I know who's being directed at here from Virgil's POV. Think about it, Sally is very similar to that of Virgil. Both are restless and want freedom despite the risks, they are both caution and concerned for others especially those they love, and just their overall aesthetics aline with a stitch work-ragdoll like appearance. The song in question is about Sally showing her concern for Jack. It briefly touches on her need for freedom and inclusion, but it's mostly about her love and consideration for Jack. Hell, she sang it right after Jack took off on his Christmas exploits that she knew would fail and tried to warn him. She thinks the love is one-sided, she gives up in believing it'll happen. However, it was reprised in the end with both of them admitting their love for each other.

Who is Jack in this situation? You could say Jack is a bit like Virgil in wanting to move away from scaring people all the time..but Jack's demeanor and personality isn't very Virgil like. He's ambitious, overly I might add. He's desperate, he's dedicated, he suffered an identity crisis, he's associated with royal standing as the Pumpkin King, and his voice is rather regal. Who does that sound like to you? Roman.

Sally's concern for Jack's actions failing or getting him hurt ties in with Virgil's behavior as anxiety. One major thing is concern for Roman being too forceful in his desperation for a boyfriend for Thomas could've got him rejected or hurt. This was shown in FWSA..the same episode where a sticker of Jack and Sally peaked both of their interest. They both have shown a love for this movie, so much so that Roman wanted Virgil's posters of it back in Accepting Anxiety part 2.

Sure, you could say that this could be directed at Nico but Virgil's playlist was debut in April of 2020, FWSA wasn't released until October. Sure, it could have been foreshadowing but I highly doubt it since the song itself shows that the person the narrator wanted in question, was already known to them and their concern for them was justified. You could say it's directed at Thomas, but this song is too romantic in its undertones to be that, even if it said "friend" in the lyrics...Roman called Virgil "Friendo" (so did Janus as Patton but that's besides the point).With lines like "What will become of my dear friend, where will his actions lead us then" could be reference to how Roman's overambitious behavior and reckless actions could be a problem. Stating a question Virgil was asked back in 2018 at live Vidcon QnA, Virgil did say he liked Roman's ambition..but wasn't sure he wanted that in his life. Maybe he's willing to take the chance now?

So, it's fair to say that "Sally's Song" is directed at Roman. They both are carbon copies of the characters, they both love the film, and the overall hints of this song and film in regards to them are too obvious to miss. ❤️💜

Seems like Virgil wants to live like Jack and Sally with Roman. 💜❤️

P.S: we so need an official Virgil cover of Sally's Song..like come on 😁

[afrotumble]

August 2, 1967, "In the Heat of the Night" was released. Sidney Poitier insisted that the movie be filmed in the North because of an incident in which he and Harry Belafonte were almost killed by Ku Klux Klansmen during a visit to Mississippi. That is why Sparta, Illinois, was chosen for location filming. Nevertheless, the filmmakers and actors did venture briefly into Tennessee for the outdoor scenes at the cotton plantation, because there was no similar cotton plantation in Illinois that could be used. Poitier slept with a gun under his pillow during production in Tennessee. He did receive threats from local racist thugs, so the shoot was cut short and production returned to Illinois.

The story was set in a hot Mississippi summer, but filmed during autumn in Illinois, many of the actors had to keep ice chips in their mouths (and spit them out before takes) to prevent their breath from appearing on camera during the night scenes.

Several scenes in the film of Virgil and Gillespie facing each other were shot over Sidney Poitier''s shoulder, looking down at Rod Steiger, emphasizing the 4 1/2 inch difference in their heights, and giving Virgil a subtle feeling of superiority.

This was the first major Hollywood film in color that was lit with proper consideration for an actor with dark skin. Haskell Wexler recognized that standard lighting used in filming produced too much glare on most black actors and others of dark complexion. He toned down the lighting to feature Poitier with better results.

[mad-doodle-disease]

//notice: timmy riddle is now called doyle n. trouble. silly silly. in alio mundo, cerebra tua pingunt aquam

morning came all too quick for the yott escapees. prester was pleasantly surprised by the fact his head was actually placed on a pillow and not the cold hard floor. finally allowing himself to sleep really helped prester's general... aggression issues. not completely, he still was the brutal witch hunter, but sleep did help with any exhaustion/stress induced extra aggression he developed. he looked over at winston, curled up like a cat a couple feet away from him. his processors generally being sluggish due to just waking up and his muscle memory involving cats almost got him to reach out and run his hand over winston's spine. almost. almoooost.

after doyle and winston woke up as well, they all took the time to loot the theater for all it's worth. doyle found a discarded gag pouch, too, which combined with his toony nature would mean the small gang of mostly cogs would finally have access to hammerspace. they then gathered their thoughts, and decided to visit toontown central's playground for a much needed soak in the pond there. every one of them were their own degree of grungy, they could all benefit from some water being splashed on them.

after a short (and somewhat more creepy due to the corpses being much more visible in the broad daylight) walk to the playground, the gang immediately walked into the water. according to prester, it was much more "efficient" to wash both their bodies and their clothes at the same time, even if that meant theyd have to walk in sopping wet cloth later. doyle just chalked it up to him not wanting to even briefly appear exposed to potential threats, though. he did find it kinda unfair though, as winston obviously had much less that would potentially weigh them down later, just having a necktie. and, even then, winston was just sitting on a dock, barely dipping their blocky feet into the water. it was a bit confusing at first, but doyle eventually came to the conclusion that winston was apprehensive about dipping their incredibly exposed mechanical innards into water. prester looked over at them, before reaching a hand out.

prester virgil: your tie. bestow it upon me, muttonhead.

winston, a bit confused, unhooked their tie and handed it to prester. he then dipped the tie in the water, swirling around a bit to get whatever grime and dirt that built up on it over time, before using it as a rag to scrub over winston's endoskeleton. they leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling of even the slightest hints of affection after so long. doyle looked on like he knew what they were.

winston byrd: tha-a-ank yo-you... prester virgil: i am merely doing this as to enlighten you on how you may find yourself doing this hereafter. i shalt not do this again, so please pay heed to my actions. winston byrd: oh i-i-i'm p-paying h-paying heed-eed-eed, HA HA. HA. doyle n. trouble: well, aren't you two chummy now? did something happen last night i was too busy catching up on my beauty sleep to notice? winston byrd: i-i put a pillow un-under his head! prester virgil: nothing happened of any sort you are thinking of, swine! i just woke up feeling... extra charitable this morrow.

doyle squinted at prester as he moved up to scrub the underside of winston's head, a smug grin forming on his snout.

doyle n. trouble: oh, i knew it. the brute with a secret heart of gold... and here i thought it might take a bit longer for you to open up! HA! all it took you was some "cat nap"! prester virgil: i can assure you, you know NOTHING of my brutish actions. if you knew what i did to that HOODED MUTTONHEAD back many moons ago, you would know that any "gold" in my heart is nothing but pyrite! fool's gold! winston byrd: i-i think i ate pyrite once i-in the dungeon! doyle n. trouble: yeah, yeah. yet here you are, handling them like an ANTIQ-

doyle suddenly went still, his face running pale and his eyes widened like globes.

prester virgil: well, by pure legal technicality, they ARE an antique!

doyle stayed silent, their smile immediately wiped from their face as they slowly turned to face the back left segment of the playground, at the seemingly abandoned schoolhouse. he stared at the cellar door, just BARELY propped open with... SOMETHING held between the door and its base.

doyle n. trouble: ...something is wrong...

the two cogs stayed quiet, prester wringing out the tie and hooking it back onto winston's neck. doyle squinted at whatever was propping up the celler door. once he recognized it, the pig began to yell.

doyle n. trouble: THAT'S A GUN! THAT'S A GUN! RUN! RUN!

the yott gang ran for the abandoned gag shop, shielding themselves from the bullets that never got fired at them.

NEXT

[skeefee-sky]

'Rescuing; no matter what-.'

@thunder-tober Day prompt: 11 - Rain Characters: Gordon Tracy, Thunderbird Four, Virgil Tracy, OC Word count: 540

Writing with covid-brain is not recommended x’D but if I have to suffer, Gordon gets to suffer too lol- A little wet weather never bothered anyone, right? Unless you want to end up catching pneumonia..

💙💛TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB ~~~ TB 💛💙

“Gordon, this was a bad idea. We should get you home.”

“Mnn… I’ll be fine, Thunderbird Four…”

Any other circumstance, he would be. But even the Thunderbird was smart enough to know what happened to sick humans that stayed out in the rain too long… The sub quietly overlooked his vitals, noticing his shivers and fluctuating temperature. But the aquanaut continued to insist he was fine.

“Captain, I know how stubborn this family can be. I will call your brothers.”

At that, Gordon did pause; hands slipping from the rope he’d just tied into a knot. He pressed one hand to his forehead and sighed; she was right though. And Virgil was only a couple of minutes away – he could be back there in no time.

“Just-… I got this, Four,” Gordon insisted, hands finding the rope again as he hauled it over his shoulder. Thunderbird Four exhaled a gush of air through her vents, picking at the rope between her fingers.

“Okay… but if this rain gets any heavier, and we’re not done, I’m taking over,” she rumbled softly, watching her pilot carefully shimmy down the sloped surface beside her. She couldn’t hear the climber calling out to them anymore, but had faith the aquanaut could find them. If his sickness got the better of him, then they’d be in trouble…

::How’s it going, Thunderbird Four?::

“Gordon’s just gone to retrieve Rennels. The area’s pretty slippery over here so, I’m keeping an eye out, but they should be up soon,” the sub relayed to the cargo ship’s pilot, optics darting back briefly to watch her own. “… Virgil, did you know he wasn’t feeling well?”

A sigh. ::I did, but you know Gordon. A little cold isn’t going to stop him. He’s going to pay for it later though, especially in this downpour.::

“He’ll ask me to be his entertainment then, I’m sure,” Thunderbird Four giggled softly. She wouldn’t mind as long as it kept her pilot out of trouble while he was resting.

She quietened briefly at the footsteps coming back up the side of the slope; Gordon leading as he and the climber, Daisy Rennels, hauled themselves back up. Both were drenched, but uninjured. The Thunderbird happily provided them shelter while they got situated, but her gaze was mainly trained on her pilot. He was still shivering.

“T-Thunderbird Two? You can come get us now,” Gordon called to his brother, collecting up the remainder of rope and circling it around his hand. A sneeze snuck up on him, and he ended up dropping it to the ground instead.

“Seems I’m not the only one who’s going to need to rest up after today, Mr Tracy,” Daisy teased lightly, grabbing the rope for him. Gordon made a soft noise of defeat; his Thunderbird then beating him to responding.

“He should be glad he’s not a whole lot worse off from this weather!”

The aquanaut groaned, brightening up the slightest when Thunderbird Two appeared, and landed nearby to pick them up.

“Let’s just go homeee…”

“FAB Captain,” Four giggled, getting to her feet and following after them as they headed to the cargo ship. “Promise Virgil won’t be too hard on you.”

“Nhg, it’s not him I’m worried about…”

[the-siphonophore]

A small rant ⬇️

Words of affirmation feels like the dumbest thing to care about like oh you care about me? Monologue to me about it or I won't believe you. If you can't make a power point on why we're friends are you even serious? If you don't routinely remind me that I'm so awesomesauce to you then I will wither like a sick plant and die as if other gestures of appreciation don't exist. Thanks for this gift but you have to use your mouth words for me to understand it. Ohh thanks for grabbing my dishes but you have to explain why you're doing it or I'll make up dumb reasons like maybe they were bothering you and I took too long I feel like an idiot running the stupid car from Cloudy and a Chance of Meatballs that's fueled by cuteness like what the hell kind of a metric is that??? Can I not just?? Understand people???

The only thing that gets through my pea-sized animal brain without words is physical touch, because if you're not talking to me I require pats for some forsaken reason (the reason is being an animal, as humans are, but arrghhhhhh having a mamillian nervous system is such bulshittt)

[halfhissandwich]

@analoginceweek Day One: Library/Theater

“Oh c’mon, please?”

“I’ll be honest, the confidence in ‘the scariest of all the scary stories’ is intriguing.” The prince nods along with Virgil, somewhat interested in the book the emo is holding, despite his usual distaste in the horror genre.

Logan cringes slightly. “I don’t know…” He begins nervously, clenching his fists. “It doesn’t make sense to read a book designed to distress the reader…”

Roman and Virgil smile widely at Logan’s reaction. Seeing Logan express this much emotion is rare, but not at all unwelcome. Roman places his hand on Logan’s shoulder with a smile, unable to resist the temptation to tease him. “It’s okay if you’re scared, Logan. Your strong knight will protect you, you know that right?” Logan’s face flushes at the half-teasing half-genuine reminder, gently shoving the prince away while Virgil laughs.

“Come on! I listened to you two yap about fairy tales and textbooks, please just throw me a bone!” Virgil asks pleadingly, leading Logan to briefly consult his notecards before nodding with understanding.

“Oh, alright. Fine.” Logan agrees, enjoying the look of glee that appears on Virgil’s face as the latter quickly gets comfortable beside the others and opens the book. Roman also smiles at the sight of Virgil being so excited to share his interest with them… until Logan is clutching his hand in nervous anticipation. Roman rolls his eyes with a smile, holding Logan’s hand as the two of them listen to Virgil read.

[gumnut-logic]

Talk No.1 (Bit 2)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Talk - No. 1 - Bit 1 , Bit 2

Here is some more :D I was willing and ready to keep writing but I have work today ::pouts::

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

The morning sunlight was glaring but warming in the cold brisk air. Around him the Māhia facility was a buzz of activity, mostly workmen hammering and hollering at each other as the new labs facility emerged where his former workspace had crumbled. It was an energising atmosphere. Change, for good or bad, was still change, and it offered new points of view and new inspiration.

And, of course, it didn’t hurt to return to Māhia with such a big change in his own life.

In all honesty, he was just really happy.

He trotted across the grounds towards the main offices, at one point glancing off in the direction of the landing strip to see if he could spot a Thunderbird.

No such luck, so he guessed Mr Tracy…Scott…had arrived in one of their private jets. He briefly wondered why he had dropped in and why he wanted to see Alex. Virgil had called him last night, with only a hint of checking up on him. He was learning that Tracys were much like Tracy Industries, a bunch of caring people who did their best to look after those close to them.

Close.

He grinned a little goofily.

He was close to Virgil Tracy.

It was with that wonderful thought that had him almost skipping into the offices and down the hall to Tia’s.

He was brought up short, however, when instead of finding Tia’s PA seated outside, another familiar and efficient woman sat there instead.

“Hello, Mr Sweetapple. It is nice to see you again.” Carly, Mr Tracy’s PA, smiled at him knowingly.

Well, it seemed knowingly. There was a sparkle in her eye that just said, ‘I know what you’ve been up to, Mr Sweetapple’. Whether she approved or not was not clear, but she knew.

Everything.

“Hi.”

“Mr Tracy is finishing up with the Director. Please take a seat and he’ll be with you in a moment.”

Alex blinked. This was the first time he’d seen Mr Tracy in a formal setting since leaving Tracy Island. On Tracy Island, Scott appeared to shed the ‘Mr Tracy’ persona and relaxed.

Alex had seen him joking and laughing, messing with his youngest brother’s hair, and there may have been a prank involving blue shampoo and Gordon.

To be honest, Alex wasn’t sure if Scott had been the victim or the perpetrator. After all, Gordon had also ended up with blue hair and because he was blond, the blue stood out much more than what had taken to the few silver hairs Scott sported.

That morning had been interesting. A little eye opening to see both brothers running around in towels yelling at each other - the athleticism had definitely been an eyeful. It had taken Mrs Tracy to bring the ruckus to a halt. Alex’s mum had been giggling so much, a presence the two Tracy men had obviously forgotten and there was a lot of red face to match the blue hair.

Alex himself had been curled up on the sofa with both his breakfast and Virgil, and had kept quiet in order to not remind them of his existence. Though his eyes had nearly fallen out of his head in the process.

The situation was not one he thought he would ever encounter.

Virgil had just rolled his eyes and smiled at Alex, probably at Alex’s expression, and kept on eating.

Let’s just say that Scott Tracy at home was vastly different to Scott Tracy in a professional capacity.

He swallowed and settled into the chair as Carly returned to doing whatever it was she was doing with her tablet.

Alex tried his best not to wear the corner of his tablet cover off with his fidgeting.

TBC

[i-t-guy-in-the-sky]

Tracy Log: 03/08/2066

RESCUE REPORT:

Call received at 13:26, reports of a rambler trapped in an abandoned missile silo some 8 meters below ground.

Call sent by companion (uninjured) stating that the victim had climbed to the apex of the hill- created after the covering of the shelter entrance- in order to film a segment for their YouTube channel.

Upon reaching the top they started filming but the ground they were standing on began to shift, having become unstable due to nearby building work causing heavy flooding in the area.

The platform upon which they were standing -which doubled as a the lid to the silo- crumbled and they fell straight down into the silo.

Thunderbirds 1 and 2 deployed with Scott, Virgil, and Gordon aboard.

Victim knocked unconscious on impact, and didn't regain consciousness until Scott reached the danger zone.

Scott used our jetpack technology to lower himself down in order to assess the victim and secure them for transport.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of the fall and the subsequent injuries, although victim regained consciousness briefly, they were in too much pain. Scott issued painkillers to make them more comfortable, but they succumbed to their injuries before Scott or the team on Thunderbird 2 were able to help.

Reports will be sent, along with our video footage, to the local police force for processing and our standard letter of condolence, as well as resources, has been sent to the bereaved.

END REPORT.

John leaned back, allowing the freedom of Zero-G to support his body as he pressed save on his screen and swiped it away.

He could still hear, could still see, the devastation on his brother's face as he reported that their mission had not been successful. Scott had tried to stay businesslike, to report the facts as they appeared, but John knew it was never that easy.

He watched every rescue as standard, ready to help in any way he could, and he had heard the laboured breathing of the victim, their pain filled crying and the wheezing, rattle in their chest.

They had asked Scott for help and he had promised them he would get them out of there. And he had, he'd helped the only way he could, by making them comfortable and holding their hand as their life had slipped away. And then he'd done his job and gotten them out as promised, just not in the way any of them would have wished.

Losses were inevitable, and they were lucky enough that they didn't have to deal with them that often, but that just made it all the harder when it did.

He wanted to be down there to support his brother, knowing he would be beating himself up about it even though there was nothing anyone could have done, but he still had to file the report with the local authorities and alert the bereavement counsellor they kept on retainer in case the victim's family were in need and couldn't provide their own.

Still, he had a secret weapon that he was merciless in deploying when a situation called for it, and this was definitely that situation.

He pulled up his screen again and touched the little symbol of a witch’s hat.

-x-

Scott’s eyes flew open as the first pounding notes of a song blasted through the speaker system of the lounge.

There went his peace and quiet. Couldn't a man brood alone in this house without some idiot feeling the need to disturb him?

“Why am I not surprised?” he bitched when his sister-in-law slid into the room and struck a dramatic pose. Please don't let her start to sing. He loved her but his temples were already throbbing and he didn't think his nerves could take it.

Thankfully -if you could count that- she stuck to lip syncing along as Tina Turner blasted out her most famous number.

“I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire,” Selene mimed, holding her hands over her heart as she rocked back and forth on the spot. “You come to me, come to me wild and wild.” She gestured to him to stand up and join her, but he folded his arms and resolutely refused, he wasn't in the mood for such silliness. A man had just died, did she not understand that?

“When you come to me, give me everything I need,” Selene continued as if he wasn't glaring a hole into her, she just gyrated on the spot, her head bobbing. “Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams, speak a language of love like you know what it means.”

She settled into a power pose stance and prepared for the first big moment of the song.

“Mmm, and it can't be wrong, take my heart and make it strong, baby…” She paused in her bouncing sway to make sure he was paying attention before she belted out the words along with Tina.

“You're simply the best!” She pointed her finger directly in his face. “Better than all the rest.” Powerful head pumping. “Better than anyone.” Arms swaying above her head. “Anyone I've ever met.”

She clutched her hands to her heart as she swayed along to the words, miming along for all she was worth. She knew how to give a rousing performance and he deserved it.

“I'm stuck on your heart

I hang on every word you say.”

“No you don't,” Scott argued, but he was beginning to feel a little amused.

“Tear us apart,” Selene mimed then stuck her tongue out at him. “Baby, I would rather be dead.”

Scott's lips twitched, just a tiny bit, but she saw it and knew that she'd got him. He was hers now.

She moved closer until she was directly in front of him and carried on lip syncing along, pantoming the moves.

“In your heart, I see the star of every night and every day.”

She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to his feet, ignoring his protests.

“In your eyes, I get lost, I get washed away.”

She kept hold of his hand, but stretched out their arms so that she could spin herself in against his chest in what she thought was the slickest move ever. He automatically grabbed on, holding her in case she fell.

“Just as long as I'm here in your arms, I could be in no better place…”

She wound up to the next line, tipped her head back onto his shoulder, eyes closed as she belted out the words like a woman possessed. “You're simply the best.”

She swayed from side to side, forcing him to move with her or lose his balance. “Better than all the rest. Better than anyone, anyone I've ever met.”

She felt the shaking of his shoulders as he started to laugh, but she couldn't hear much over the music. Not that that mattered, she knew her plan was working.

“Ooh, I'm stuck on your heart, I hang on every word you say.”

She wound her way out of his arms again in true ballroom dancing fashion but kept hold of his hand.

"Don't tear us apart,no, no, no. Baby, I would rather be dead!”

Scott span her again and she latched her arms around his neck, moving together now. This time he joined in, actually singing, which she now joined in with, uncaring as to how bad she sounded.

“Each time you leave me, I start losing control,

You're walking away with my heart and my soul.

I can feel you even when I'm alone, oh baby, don't let go!”

They danced a haphazard path around the coffee table and up the steps to a clear spot of floor just in time for the next part. They bounced around, Scott mimed playing a saxophone as Selene did her best Tina Turner gyrations -if the woman herself could move like that in her 70s Selene had no excuse to let the said down.

“Ooh, you're the best, ooh.”

Arms were waved as they sang. Selene had managed to grab Kayo's discarded hairbrush off a side table and was using it in her best teenage girl sleepover fashion.

“Better than all the rest. Better than anyone, anyone I've ever met.”

Scott took her outstretched hand and wound his fingers through hers, allowing her to swing his arm around as they sang the next lines.

“Ooh, I'm stuck on your heart, I hang on every word you say. Don't tear us apart, no, no, Baby, I would rather be dead!”

She let go of his hand and threw her head back to scream the next line.

“You're the best!”

They broke apart to dance on their own as the music pumped winding up for the finale. Scott was fully in the grove now, his face losing the haggard sadness she'd seen when she'd first entered the room. They were karaoke masters, they knew how to match actions to the words and they did it with style.

"Ooh, you're simply the best. Better than all the rest. Better than anyone, Anyone I've ever met!”

They bounced on the spot, singing at the top of their lungs, heads thrown back as they let the music and the fun of the moment wash away the disappointment and sadness of the day.

“I'm stuck on your heart, baby. I hang on every word you say.” Heads bobbed, fingers clicked, booties shimmied, hips gyrated as they let themselves go. “Don't tear us apart, no, no, no. Baby, I would rather be dead!”

Selene was very out of breath now, and why shouldn't she be, she been carrying this performance after all, but he was worth it. They bounced back together again, and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight to make sure he was fully understanding the reason behind her song choice.

“Oh, you're the best. You're better than all the rest

Better than anyone, anyone I've ever met.”

She locked eyes with him as the song wound down and spoke the last words directly to her very best friend in the entire world, and thankfully he was right there with her. “Ooh, you're the best.”

She was there to catch him in a huge hug as the music died away, leaving them panting for breath. The man could run the length of the island but make him dance and he'd be puffing like an old steam train in minutes.

“Beer?” she offered, kissing the top of his head where he'd faceplanted her shoulder.

It took him a moment, but finally he mumbled, “Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks.” That last word meant everything to her and told her that he appreciated her efforts more than he would probably admit.

She nodded and gave him another squeezy hug before she let him go, confident that she'd made her point. He was the best, the best brother, the best friend and the best rescuer out there. And whenever he doubted himself she'd be there to kick his arse until he realised the error of his ways.

-x-

John smiled to himself as he watched the live lounge feed. His wife was certainly unconventional in her approach but she got the job done.

And, until he could get home he knew his brother was in the best hands now. She'd make sure that he remembered that he was the best.

[ro-valerius]

Virgil is Fucking Stupid

What? He is...

Collab write with @ffxiv-f13ndish [Virgil and Miyu] and @sorrel-haven [Odetta and Luluci]

Virgil didn’t get to talking about what he came over for right away, giving Tofu more time to readjust – not that he believed that Tofu was fragile enough where he needed the time to rest. Really, it was difficult to discuss business with someone when his sister was fawning over him the whole time. Though she didn’t quite seem as he knew her… This must be the voidsent woman she housed.

Once Tofu was settled, Virgil took a seat across from him, Fa-el beginning to make her way to the stairs now that she was no longer needed.

“Now then, I’m sure you’re aware of Nhagi’s association with voidsents. I have a proposal on hunting it down. I have a method of tracking the voidsent within her – the same which may consume it from her being entirely,” Virgil began, sitting back in his chair as he awaited Tofu’s response. 

Fa-el paused, then turned, making her way back over with slow, calculated footsteps. Seemed something Virgil said had caught her attention. There was something akin to fury in the pools of abyss that were her eyes, and her shrouded hands clenched into fists briefly. She kept her gaze steadily on the deteriorating elezen, a cold expression on her face. She hopped up to sit on the dining table between them, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back on her hands. 

“I cannot allow you to let that voidsent be consumed by anyone but me. Nor do I appreciate the implication that you do not believe me capable of tracking down my own… subordinate,” she said, leaning over and hooking a finger under Virgil’s chin to bring his gaze to her eyes. 

“Ah, Fa-el, so nice of you to deign to speak to us,” Tofu remarked dryly. “Do try not to antagonize our guest.” Fa-el turned an impish grin towards Tofu with a shrug, removing her hand from Virgil’s proximity. 

“If you insist, pretty boy,” she said. 

Virgil tilted his head in interest. 

“So you can speak, then. I hadn’t been certain of the nature of your… development,” the elezen remarked. “And it seems you are quite acquainted with the mage’s own little shadow. I cast no disregard to your abilities, though it does beg the question of why you haven’t made your mark yet. Fa-el, yes? A pleasure to speak with you directly.”

Fa-el scowled at him with a near-bored expression. 

“Cannot say it is a pleasure to speak with you. As for why I have done nothing so far, Vira is quite adept at hiding her own aether, and I’m sure that woman that has consumed her has figured out how to use it to her own advantage. The question that I have is how that wretch managed to merge with my beloved so easily… Though that pixie’s revelation gives me something to ponder on that matter,” she said, though most of it was her own thinking out loud, while part of it was ‘I can go on and on, too, rat’. 

“Yes, as far as she presents herself – it appears to be an efficient merge,” Virgil said, voice falling flat just a tad. 

“Aw, jealous~?” she cooed lightly before Tofu smacked her in the arm. 

“Behave.”

“No,” Virgil stated, a pause soon following. “I consider it to be more akin to an inpatient apprehension. I wish to understand her fully. Unfortunately, to dissect her would mean to catch her. As you have mentioned, she is adept at hiding her aether.”

Virgil leaned forward just a bit.

“You wish to consume your beloved. A lover’s spat? Or mere carnal hunger which your type tends to exhibit?”

Fa-el leaned towards him as well, her bored expression remaining.

“It is a mutual desire. We wish to become one, we were merely interrupted when those mages locked me inside this woman,” she corrected, leaning back. 

“And it is good that you are not jealous, you should not be. Their joining… Either Vira will consume that woman, or I will consume Vira, the only uncertainty is which will happen first. While I have come to an accord with Fiora, a mutual understanding, Vira and that woman would not be able to come to a similar accord.”

A quick glance at Tofu could almost be overlooked, if she didn’t have to turn her head slightly to do so. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his expression clearly indicating that he was done with her shit.

“Nothing~” she purred.

“A mutual understanding? And what would that be?” Virgil inquired, unconsciously tilting his head in the opposite direction now. Fa-el held a finger to her lips and winked, a hushed ‘later~’ barely audible.

Virgil stared back with a blank expression.

“You behave as if it is some sort of secret, but your stare at Tofu and this… cheeky response with him in the room infers that he has something to do with it. And from what I presume, there may not be many later conversations to be had, hm?” Virgil responded in an aloof manner.

Fa-el rolled her eyes; really, stuffy men were just no fun.

“Oh, his involvement is no secret, but the nature of it is between me and Fiora. And what makes you presume that there may not be many later conversations? I do hope you don’t think I’m going anywhere when all of this is over. Unless it is you who might not make it to the other side of this?” she asked with a curious tilt of her head.

“Fa-el, if you have nothing of use to say, stop making my sister’s body do things she would never do, it’s starting to weird me out a little,” Tofu interjected. Fa-el rolled her eyes again, though had the decency to give him a sheepish smile before turning back to Virgil, holding up one hand in a ‘go on’ gesture. 

“Fine, then, have you any productive questions for me, elezen?” she asked. 

“No. I don’t believe the concern of what is left and what is to survive applies to me in this situation,” Virgil responded with a weighted stare — not directed at Fa-el specifically, but to the individual the voidsent bonded to. “I do look forward to future conversations. It seems I have yet to bore you. I am not one to engage in games, however…”

“Would it not be a fascinating game to see who is consumed first? Be if you and your beloved, or them and the beast mage — or perhaps, between the maws of the artificial voidsent I have created myself?” Virgil drew out his last words intentionally, perhaps to hold the attention of the voidsent whom he spoke with.

“You insist you are very well capable of finding her. It should be no competition, as you insist — and yet you intercede on my suggestion. Do you not enjoy games, Fa-el?”

The laughter that erupted out of her bordered on the insulting, a hearty bellow that sounded odd in Fiora’s voice. She turned a toothy smile to Virgil, amused at the nature of his assumptions. 

“Oh, you funny little man. There will be no other outcome. That woman will be eliminated, my beloved and I will be joined. When you brought up consumption before, I thought you had some actual, feasible plan behind it, but an artificial void creation?” she said, her voice light with mirth. She leaned towards him again, a glint even within the shrouded eyes. 

“Darling, an insignificant little thing like you lacks the ability and understanding to create any void being strong enough to consume even Vira. And I am stronger than Vira by far. Your toy would do nothing against us, and I do not speak from overconfidence.” She leaned back, expression dropping as she eyed him. 

“You would do to learn more of the source of your own endeavors rather than going about under-educated experimentation. That is why you are falling apart at the edges. That is why you are doomed to fail, and watch people like Fiora achieve the things you desire without detriment to themselves. You think your toy a success, but your toy is also doomed to failure.”

Virgil’s expression remained stagnant as the voidsent spoke down on him, his eyes icy and calculative while he observed Fa-el.

“A creature caught in an endless stream of time – knowing no beginning nor end – lest struck down prematurely. This is my beginning. My fall may be my creation… The timing is unfortunate presently, given prior agreements I’ve taken responsibility for. Nevertheless, I do intend to proceed to my next stage. You’ve had quite the stages to scale, Fa-el. After all, powerful as you may be, you’ve had your fall of vulnerability when you were interrupted and contained in a vessel,” Virgil responded.

There was a moment of softness in his gaze as his eyes fell.

“Dante… he grows stronger by the day. I sense no instability in him. All that falters is his mind. He continues to be my success. There’s promise in him, he just needs time.”

The stone cold wall of his gaze hardened once more as he met Fa-el’s own once more.

“Regardless of needless competition, it would benefit Tofu to have more than one hand on deck.”

“Do you not listen? Or do you lack the ability to comprehend? I am trying to help you. The way you are going about your ascension will cause you to lose the very things that make you who you are, you will lose the reason for becoming."

"As for your…Dante, while his body is stable, it is exactly his mind you should worry about. Lest he become a mindless thrall to the darkness, educate yourself so that you might still make a success out of him, educate yourself so that you might recall what it is you’re trying to become one with the void for once you achieve that goal. If you do not, you will both be lost,” she said, her eyes taking on a sad edge as she stood from the table.

She started to walk towards the stairs, but paused to look back at him.

“For someone who is supposed to be learned, you’re brash and reckless. It would be a shame to waste that mind of yours carelessly.” Then she continued up the stairs. Tofu buried his head in his hands.

“You both talk too much…” he grumbled.

Virgil went quiet in consideration of Fa-el’s words. He never fully evaluated Dante’s mind. What is to become of him? And what is to become of himself now? Virgil’s eyes fell to his hands, which appeared to flicker in his lap. He clutched his hands together and gave a faint sigh through his nose.

“Uh, sorry about her, I think… Thousands of years old and still can’t figure out how to play nice with others,” Tofu said with a heavy sigh. 

He stood and grabbed a couple of cups and a jug of water, setting a cup in front of Virgil and filling it with water before doing the same for the cup in his spot. He returned the jug to its place and settled back down at the table. Tofu eyed Virgil carefully, but didn’t say anything more.

“If you come to live over a millenia, manners and courtesy tend to become purposeless. No sense in obtaining friends – or enemies, for that matter – if you can simply outlive them all,” Virgil said with a shake of his head. He fidgeted for a moment, snapping his fingers with a tense brow.

He picked up the cup set before him with a nod in thanks, then took a sip. The water spilled from the glass as his hand shook. As he went to set it down, the glass passed through his hand and spilled across the table.

“My apologies. I’ll go get a…cloth,” Virgil apologized as he moved to stand. He took one step from the table before he collapsed.  

Tofu was out of his chair and at Virgil’s side in an instant, checking for a fever…or a pulse. The elezen did have a pulse, but he was cold and clammy to the touch. Tofu had to resist the urge to shake his hand as he couldn’t help but compare the feeling to that of a corpse…

With a sigh, he draped one of Virgil’s arms around his own shoulders and half-carried, half-dragged him to the couch, laying him down with a surprising amount of care. The temptation was there to carry Virgil the way Virgil had carried him, but the man was too tall and gangly for that. He tucked a pillow under Virgil’s head then straightened, pulling out the small ceramic bell and giving it a ring. 

Daen Lad was, of course, not there. He had forgotten. After their excursion to the Library, the pixie had disappeared, gone off to find someone for answers. With another sigh, he went upstairs to drag Fa-el - no, Fiora was back - back down the stairs. She followed without complaint, though he didn’t explain beforehand. He gestured vaguely at the couch. 

“Watch over him a moment, I have to make a run to the Sorrel house to get… one of them, I don’t even care which one at this point…” he asked, a weary edge to his voice.

“Do be careful not to strain yourself, you have two new injuries and I’m not dumb enough to believe that you haven’t exacerbated your older ones,” she said, knowing full well she could not change his mind if she tried. He nodded, then stepped outside.

He took a deep breath to brace himself, then teleported straight to Gridania. The blue glow and the gentle hum greeted him as he staggered into the plaza. Odetta barely caught him from fully stumbling as he appeared right next to her. 

“Oh! Welcome to Gridania, Tofu. Are you well enough to be teleporting like this? Dolly was very concerned about your condition, last I heard,” she asked as she looked him over. Tofu offered a sheepish shake of his head.

“Haven’t…been well enough to teleport for several months, but this might qualify as an emergency? I had to find one of you, Virgil’s passed out at the house and feels like a corpse and I can’t get him back to your home by myself…” he murmured, not realizing that he had pressed a hand to his chest.

“Oh dear… Don’t- Uh this will sound weird- but don’t worry about that too much, he feels like a corpse all the time. The passed out thing is a bit concerning! I shall send Luluci ahead of us.” She snapped her fingers and Eos appeared. She looked to the fairy. “Please ask Lulu to go check on Virgil, my dear?” 

The fairy nodded and flittered off to find Lulu. Odetta looked back to Tofu.

“We should have you sit a moment, Lulu will get there quickly,” she said as she guided Tofu to a nearby bench. Tofu resisted with another shake of his head.

“I should get back before one of the others wakes up, Fiora is already going to give me an earful, I don’t need anyone else getting on my case for- I don’t need them getting on my case,” he said, stopping himself from admitting that this was not the first time he’d teleported in recent times. 

“Then we lie! I will take you home in my carriage, my chocobo is very fast. It will not be as fast as teleporting but it will give you a chance to rest and you can tell them that you met me on the road,” Odetta said with a smile. Tofu gave her a surprised look. 

“...You’d do that?” he questioned softly. 

“What, lie? Oh all the time, sometimes you just gotta lie. But like… Little white lies that don’t actually hurt anyone. I mean… Don’t like lie if you’re like dying or something, but-”

“Yeah okay I get it. Uh, thank you. If it’s all the same to you, can we get going…?” he interrupted, noticing a look in her eyes that reminded him of when Hana was about to go on a rambling tangent.

“Oh! Sure, we’ll have to take the ferry to the Lavender Beds, the one by the Lancer’s guild. This way!” she said as she linked her arm around his, tugging him along. Tofu didn’t have enough fight in him to wrest his arm back from her, begrudgingly allowing himself to be dragged along. 

---

Tofu leaned back against the side of the carriage, allowing his eyes to slide closed, though he wasn’t in danger of slipping out of consciousness. He was worn out, but he could keep going just fine. Odetta looked back at him.

“We’ll be passing into Thanalan soon… So… What did you get yourselves into? Virgil collapsing usually follows him exerting himself,” she prodded.

“Virgil did very little, actually. He came over, carried me halfway home until I got out of his grasp, then he talked with Fa-el for too long probably,” he said with a half shrug, not really elaborating on his own adventures of late. 

“Wait… Who’s Fa-el?” she asked with a tilt of her head. Tofu lifted his head and looked towards Odetta. 

“Oh. Right. The voidsent woman that got sealed inside of Fiora,” he said, realizing that he didn’t actually know how much Odetta knew about Fiora.

“Oh! I vaguely remember something about that… Someone must have mentioned it over a shared meal. Lulu insists on us telling stories at the table whenever we can manage to eat together.” Odetta looked up as she tried to recall.

“Ah, I just don’t keep tabs well on who knows what, got a lot of other things to deal with. If you need clarification on anything, just ask, I’ll do my best to provide it,” he said, leaning back against the side of the carriage again.

“In any case, the most Virgil did in my presence to exert himself was try to carry me back to the house. I…don’t know what caused his collapse.”

Tofu’s hand once more rested against his side as he stared up at the sky from under the canopy of the carriage. Big, billowing clouds drifted lazily across the sky through the last remnants of the boughs of the Shroud. There was something…peaceful about the sight. He could almost get lost in it.

Odetta hung the reins on a hook and turned to look at Tofu fully. She watched him silently for a moment before smiling; a peaceful carriage ride seemed like something he really needed. She spied a moogle coming up to the carriage, probably to chat with her, and put a finger to her lips, shaking her head no. The moogle pouted for a moment before flying off to find someone else to play with. 

The Shroud finally gave way to the Thanalan landscape. The chocobo pulling the carriage chirped in distress as the road changed from the soft Shroud soil to the hard Thanalan road. Odetta turned back to the chocobo.

“There there, Squeak, I know you don’t like this road but you’re a big brave boy,” she cooed.

Tofu narrowed his eyes at the more intense sun of Thanalan and pushed himself to an upright position, resting his arms across his thighs. A faint smile flickered at the corners of his mouth at the name she had given her bird. She seemed the sort for cutesy names like that. He was briefly grateful that she was more worried about Virgil than she was him, since she hadn’t pressed him on matters…at least, not yet. But they had a fair bit of distance yet to cover, so he didn’t hold his breath.

“...How’s Lament?” he asked, finally breaking his silence.  

“Recovering from their latest job with Rika,” she said as she turned back to him. “Things went a little sideways, as things are wont to do. But they’ll be fine! Mostly just over extended their limits. Rika almost got eaten though… She didn’t seem too fazed by it.”

Tofu tilted his head. Rika… Rika… Ah, the woman with the white hair and cold demeanor. 

“No, I don’t think that one would be fazed by much of anything. I am glad that Lament is recovering well from that. They’re not going to be too happy when they find out about Virgil,” he murmured, the last part mostly for himself. “Make Lament carry him back like a princess.” 

That wasn’t meant to be out loud. 

“Ah, forget I said anything,” he said, looking away sheepishly. Odetta couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s so specific though! What prompted that?” she said, still giggling. Tofu groaned and rolled his eyes.

“That lanky bastard must have thought it would be so funny, even though I told him I just needed a moment…” he grumbled. 

“Ah, hmm.” She sighed lightly. “I’m glad he’s acting his age. He should be goofing off more like that.” She tilted her head as she smiled at him. 

“Honestly, it’s good for you too. To goof off. You have a lot of burdens, so I hear. Having little moments to be silly, they’ll help you not break,” she said softly. Tofu’s hands clenched in his lap as he kept his face turned away from her, though he had to relax his bandaged hand as it burned.

“I am not so fragile that I would break so easily,” he said, his voice so quiet that it wasn’t clear if he intended for Odetta to hear him, though there was a hard edge to it. 

“Never said you were,” she said with an even tone. “But even the strongest metal breaks with enough pressure. We need to let ourselves be in the moment, let the pressure escape through our laughter. Be with our family in times of levity and times of strife. Stand with our family and not stand alone.”

“Trust me, I know, because I am the strong one for my family. I protect them all the best I can. But my strength does not and should not negate their own. My family picks me up when I falter, and I let them. Because to deny their help is to deny their strength and that’s just insulting.”

“I’m trying,” he all but whispered. “Decades old habits don’t relinquish their hold so quickly. Trust…is hard to give, no matter how much I want to, no matter how much I know that I can, I have spent so long being the only person I could rely on that I don’t know how to…accept anything else.”

He got quiet for a moment, watching the road wind away behind them.

“I-” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. Odetta smiled softly, not an ounce of judgment in her eyes.

“You don’t need to start with trust, start with acceptance. If someone offers their hand more than once, accept it.” Her ears perked up as she quickly added, “I’m not saying to blindly take the hand either, you can be ready to catch yourself if the hand lets go. But typically if someone really wants to help, they won’t stop holding out their hand after one rejection. Acceptance is the first step in building trust.”

Tofu opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught on a gasp of pain as his chest flared aggressively - he really should not have teleported, though it was impressive that he made it this long without repercussions. He gripped his chest tightly as everything spun around him, dropping to his knees on the carriage floor. Blood dripped heavily between his lips as he struggled to hold himself up.

He had made a string of terrible decisions that day and this was his consequence. 

“Squeak, steady ahead!” Odetta prompted the chocobo. She hopped from the driver's seat to the back of the carriage, her expression focused as her maternal instincts took over. She placed her hands on his shoulders to steady him.

She knew better than to try to do anything more than hold him steady, even though it killed her to simply watch. She waited for the worst of it to pass before she pulled a cloth out of her pocket and offered it to him.

As the pain subsided bit by bit, he leaned heavily against the seat he had vacated, still gasping for air as he took the cloth gratefully. His eyes took an extra moment to focus on her concerned expression. One hand kept him propped up as the other went back against his chest. 

“S-sorry, it’s fine, it’ll pass,” he murmured, trying to offer a comforting smile that was belied by the blood still flecked on his lips. He blinked as he remembered the cloth she had just handed him and attempted to get the blood off his face, at least.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I am a mother by choice, it’s my nature to worry, even for those not my own.” She smiled softly. “That is one nasty curse for sure. I see why Dolly was so concerned.” 

Tofu gave a slight tilt of his head. There it was again. The idea that Dolly, who hadn’t cared about him until that point, could get to the point that she was actively worried confused him. Had something changed at the Library? He hadn’t done anything he would consider special.

“Dolly was…?” he asked, sitting up straighter to grip his shoulder tightly. The bullet wound throbbed from all of the commotion. Odetta frowned as she took away Tofu’s hand to look at the wound. She noted there was no exit wound. It must have gotten stuck on bone, or didn’t have enough powder in the round.

“Squeak, pull over boy,” she called over her shoulder. As the chocobo pulled the carriage off to the side of the road, she dug around under the seat for her medical supplies. “I’m going to put a numbing salve on this till we can get you home.”

He offered what he hoped came across as a reassuring smile.

“It's…kind of treated. Blomma and Ro weren't home so Fiora did her best- well, Fa-el had to because Fiora is blind, but that's a long story. I should have let her wake Miyu but I didn't want to worry them…” he tried to assure. But the injury had definitely bled through, he had felt it under his hand. “Blomma should be home shortly after we get there, she should be done with work…sooooon.”

“... Yeah, I’m putting the salve on and then taking a look when we get there.” Her tone made it clear it was best not to argue. Tofu blinked at her.

“R-right,” he agreed reluctantly. 

—

Shortly after Luluci had stopped by to examine Virgil, Miyu had stepped away and repositioned themself to wait at the door for Tofu’s arrival. They remained at the entryway, holding a medical kit under their arm, as they tapped their foot and kept their eyes straight ahead. Fiora cast a look at them from across the room.

“...Do try not to bombard him as soon as he gets home, alright?” she prompted softly. She did not think that he would arrive…rested.

While she was also not happy with Tofu’s choices, she also knew that he did not need to be chastised as soon as he set foot through the door. Or by multiple people. 

Miyu gave a faint sigh through their nose as they rubbed their shoulder, brow in a tense furrow.

“I’ll behave, promise,” Miyu said with a chuckle. They took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let a slow breath out. Yes, they were prepared now. Luluci looked up from tending to Virgil.

“Fiora, Miyu, please prepare a space for Odetta to dig out that bullet left in Tofu’s arm, I can hear her grumbly thoughts from here,” Lulu sighed. Fiora gave a flat look.

“Useless fuckin’ voidsent didn’t even-” she started grumbling before doing as instructed. Her eyes flickered black.

“I heard that.” They returned to normal.

“Good.”

Miyu’s gaze lingered on the door as they let out a soft huff, before moving on to prepare the space. They looked to Fiora and opened their mouth to speak, then reconsidered. Nevermind what they just saw. 

“They’re here, someone go open the door,” Lulu said without looking up. Miyu promptly sped walked towards the door.

“Odetta, good to see you. Tofu… hello, darling,” Miyu greeted upon opening the door. They stepped to the side to allow them in. “Glad to see there’s enough of us now to carry Virgil’s body to the hole we dug.”

They were attempting to lift the mood. Judging by their tense expression, it wasn’t working. At the sound of Miyu’s voice, Tofu moved to walk slightly behind Odetta as they entered the house. He had been really hoping they’d still be asleep…

“H-hello,” he muttered as he passed them. “I sure hope Virgil isn’t a corpse, would be a waste of effort.”

“Yes yes, Virgil’s like a corpse, very funny. Now get over here so I can get that bullet out properly?” Odetta said with a bit of a huff. The mother’s patience began to wane.

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming…” he grumbled, making his way to where Odetta was to treat him. Fiora huffed.

“I thought you got Fa-el because she could see?” she said. 

“I did. No one said she was good at medical treatment,” he responded. Fiora shot him a glare before stomping up the stairs, a ‘stupid rabbit…’ making its way down behind her.

Miyu’s hand remained on their shoulder as their gaze lingered on Tofu’s own. They held their tongue and turned their attention to Odetta.

“Everything should be set up now. Let me know if you need anything else,” they said with a nod. They made their way to the kitchen to grab a bowl of water and some extra towels.

On the other side of the room, a corpse-like elezen began to stir. Luluci put a hand on his chest to prevent him from getting up too fast. She watched him open his eyes for a moment.

“Glad to have you back with us. But what were you up to that caused all this, hm?” she asked, peering into his mind as she did so, in case he was disinclined to answer.

Virgil glanced down at the hand on his chest with a small scowl, but nevertheless made no attempt to sit up. He shut his eyes for a long moment as he fought off the pounding headache that had begun to creep in. As he turned his head away to pinch the bridge of his nose, more silvery locks fell before his eyes.

“Ah, of course he alerted you. I-”

“I thought you were dead,” Tofu called from across the room. 

“He didn’t even need to alert me! I told you I would be checking in on you.” Luluci rolled her eyes.

Virgil shot Tofu a glare. Upon doing so, he noticed Odetta was present, as well.

“Ah yes, let us call the masses, shall we? I-” 

“He didn’t ‘call the masses’, I was at the aetheryte in Gridania. Don’t fret, Lament doesn’t know… Yet,” Odetta interrupted.

“And they won’t have to know. I only had a brief fainting spell after neglecting to grab lunch – it’s fine,” Virgil quickly responded. He turned his attention back to Luluci. “As for what I was doing… I had only come here to speak with Tofu. I found him battered and hopeless on the floor outside and had to carry him back to the house. I suppose I spent much of my energy doing that.” 

“Liar.” To Tofu’s surprise, Lulu said the same thing at the same time, though for clearly different reasons. He raised a brow at her.

“That’s not all that you did. You can’t hide your thoughts from me, I am much more practiced at peering than you are at concealing, young man,” Lulu said, crossing her arms.

“And you didn’t have to carry me, you decided to even though I told you I just needed a moment. And I wasn’t hopeless!” Tofu was tired, and perhaps a bit more immature in the face of it. A hiss of pain and a muttered ‘ow’ escaped him as Odetta dug around in his shoulder.

“Well if you wouldn’t fuckin’ move…” Odetta grumbled.

“Well, you certainly appeared so,” Virgil said with a cough. He cleared his throat and turned his gaze back to Luluci. He supposed it was useless to conceal it.

“There was a change… I felt it. I just needed to draw it out somehow. It hasn’t killed me-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘yet’ or anything of the sort like that!” Lulu snapped. “I am not sure you understand exactly what it is you are trying to achieve. Your single minded pursuit is leaving you blind to what you’re actually doing to yourself. You will not live to achieve your goal on this path.”

“May I finish any of my sentences?” Virgil flatly responded. 

“Not until you stop being stupid with them,” Lulu scolded.

Virgil closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, then slowly let it out.

“My life is not of your responsibility – and before you interrupt me again, I will not be moved from that stance. I know very well what risks come with what I’ve done to myself – I’ve weighed these factors. There is nothing I will stay behind for,” he coldly remarked, voice steady. He opened his eyes again and held his gaze with Luluci’s, but there was a distance in them. 

“Man, you really are, stupid, aren’t you?” a voice from the stairs said. Fiora - no, the shrouded eyes and hands indicated that this was Fa-el - sat upside down on the stairs, hands clasped on her chest. “Doesn’t matter if you die, does it? Does it matter if you remember? What even are you doing this for? To be better? But why? For what purpose? Who are you helping by doing any of this, because this course of yours helps absolutely no one. You won’t even be yourself at the end of this road.”

“Godsdammit Fa-el…” Tofu muttered.

“There is nothing about myself I wish to retain,” Virgil snapped back – for once, he was concise with his reasoning. 

“Not even your mind? Fool.”

“Lament will be so happy to hear you’re willing to sacrifice your memories of them,” Lulu said, narrowing her eyes.

“Okay! I think that’s enough of that for now,” Odetta said as she finally retrieved the bullet. “Miyu, please hold a cloth to his shoulder while I prepare to stitch it now that the bullet is actually out.” Fa-el shrugged as well as one can while sitting upside down on the stairs. 

“I am not medically trained, don’t ask me why he asked me to do it,” she said, no trace of remorse in her tone.

“Could have just woken me up,” Miyu grumbled quietly as they shot Fa-el a look, but they went ahead and held a cloth to Tofu’s shoulder with one hand, while the other fondly smoothed his hair out of his face. They sent a curious glance over to Luluci and Virgil.

Virgil was silent for a long period of time as Luluci’s comment about Lament lingered on his mind.

“...They know what is to occur if they are to be involved with me,” Virgil said, his voice low. He moved to sit up. “Enough of this. I should be heading back now. I’m sure Tofu doesn’t need more of an audience than he already has while being stitched up.”

Luluci rolled her eyes once more.

“Sure, okay. Don’t consider that you are involved with a hopeless romantic that actually hopes for the best,” Lulu said, staring daggers into the elezen. Fa-el sat up, allowing herself to slide down the stairs backwards until she hit the ground floor and stood up.

“Yeah, okay, become a mindless, aether hungry void thrall like the beings that haunt Hawke Manor, I don’t even care anymore. Waste your intelligence, your goals, your aspirations, to become nothing more than a floating eyeball creature with no will of its own outside of ‘consume’. Have fun, moron,” she said as she shrugged and went back up the stairs. Tofu groaned at her as she left. 

Virgil held onto the couch as he stood to his feet. He stared straight ahead. Trouble was, he had considered who he was with. And it was the only reason he hasn’t gone away to pursue his experiments on his own. He wouldn’t say this now, though — especially not in front of everyone. He did, however, show hesitance in his body language by remaining still in one spot for a prolonged period of time. 

“Fa-el…” Virgil began, only to realize she had gone back up the stairs. Never mind that, then. Another time. He continued out the door. Luluci watched as Virgil left and she shook her head.

Stupid child. Whatever was she to do with him?

Odetta meanwhile finished patching Tofu up, with fresh stitches and bandages. She started to clean up the mess of medical supplies she made as she instructed Miyu, still acting as her second pair of hands.

“Oh, and Tofu,” she said, placing a small jar in his hand, “this is that numbing salve. Give it to Blomma as an apology for using her other supplies. It’s very potent so she’ll only need a little. There’s an applicator in the lid.”

Tofu blinked heavily as he took the jar. Numbing salve or not, having someone root around in your shoulder is not the most comfortable sensation, his eyes were still unfocused. He tried to offer a soft smile, but it came out tense still.

“R-right, thanks,” he murmured. 

His hand probably needed to be properly looked at, too, but he would ask Miyu or Blomma to deal with it later, Odetta had done enough already. He made a mental note not to get the voidsent to apply medical treatment in the future.

He brushed his fingers across the bandages around his abdomen; between the incident at the Library and what has transpired today, there was a lot to cover. He couldn't help but think ‘I really am a mess, aren't I?’ as he sighed heavily through his nose.

“Oh don’t think like that,” Lulu said, suddenly by his side, giving his thigh a pat. Tofu jumped a little. “You should have seen the messes Odetta would get in! You would think being a mother might have tempered that, but no.”

“H-hey! Lulu, let's not bring up those stories.” Odetta said quickly, her cheeks a little flushed.

“Well, I’m sure you were able to handle it with a certain grace,” Miyu hummed, though they glanced at Luluci with a raised brow, as if inquiring about what she spoke of.

They absentmindedly reached for Tofu’s hand, but paused upon seeing the bandages — ones which were badly wrapped at that, too. Their brow twisted as they gently took his hand to inspect, though they didn’t unwrap it just yet. They held the back of his hand to their lips for a moment as they gave Tofu a questioning look. 

Tofu tilted his head at their look, then realized the hand they held. Ah, they had already noticed. He looked away sheepishly. He didn't know how to answer their questioning look, so he didn't say anything at all, only shrugging dismissively.

Miyu only gave him a small smile. Rather than taking up a seat to get to work, they took a seat on the corner of the table. They unpacked the medical supplies that Odetta had already cleaned up, and then quickly got to work to tend to his hand. 

“I know Luluci loves to tell stories… I’d love to hear more of them,” Miyu said as a playful smirk danced across their features. Lulu’s eyes sparkled with mischief, as Odetta buried her face in her hands.

“No…” 

“Yes!”

“Shouldn’t you make sure Virgil gets home without collapsing again?” Tofu interjected, hoping to save Odetta some embarrassment. Luluci pouted.

“Fiiiiine.” She stood up and headed towards the door. “But don’t think your stories are only kept by Lament, missy!”

Odetta shook her head as she watched Luluci leave, but said nothing in the hopes of not enticing her to stay. Tofu let out a soft sigh of relief. Mission accomplished.

“I suppose I’ll have to swing by later, then,” Miyu said with a faint giggle, quickly giving a goodbye wiggle of their fingers before returning to stitching Tofu up. Tofu watched for a moment in silence before speaking up.

“You didn’t have to worry about this right away. It would have been fine until everyone went home…” he murmured. Old habits, indeed. He would still rather as few people know about his injuries as possible.

“And leave you opened up like this? No, no. You deserve better than that. And you don’t need a nasty infection,” Miyu said with a tut of their tongue.

They glanced up to him and smiled. For a moment, their eyes lingered on his shoulder again. They averted their gaze back to his hand.

“Besides, I’m almost done here. Keep still for me and maybe I’ll get ya a cookie after.”

“Do I look like Hana to you?” he said with a flat expression. He turned his attention to Odetta briefly. “Thank you, uh, for the ride back.”

“Of course, I’ll be on my way as well. Should uh… get the carriage off your lawn…” She headed towards the door with a sheepish smile. “Take care!” Tofu offered a slight wave goodbye. 

“Take care, Odetta!” Miyu chirped back in response. They turned their gaze back to Tofu and gave him a long stare, squinting as they studied him.

“Hm. Nope, not Hana. Just perfectly you,” they said as they finished wrapping up his hand, topping it off with a quick peck on the knuckle. Tofu felt the heat rise to his cheeks and looked away.

The door swung open as Kore rushed in in a panic. 

“Tofu! I-” She blinked as she took in the scene, “Y-you’re okay? But Virgil said- … Oh I need to go kill an elezen. Be right back.”

She turned to leave again, Miyu and Tofu barely catching a glimpse of rage in her eyes.

“Hi, love! Bye, love! Have fun!” Miyu called out as Kore turned to go hunt down an elezen. 

“Whatever he’s about to get, he deserves.”