#DAMN IT I JUST MADE AN AU AAAGH

[reassambled-dragoon]

Okay. Okay. If the Ilsun Crew were on Roshar:

-Glacius would likely be Parshendi in Stormform (the description matches Pureblood physique, which is REALLY INTERESTING), or Warform (though it lacks hair). If she were human, she’d be Lighteyed, though I’m not sure which nationality (if she were Alethi, which might work, she’d be kind of short...maybe Herdazian, though so far I haven’t seen a Herdazian woman fight).

-Jaal would absolutely be Lighteyed. No idea about nationality. What more closely matches someone with Asian features?

-Rei’zen, Rei’ki, and Z’neel would all be at least half-Alethi and Lighteyed to boot. The Thrill would be REALLY STRONG in Rei’ki and Z’neel. (They all have the height and dark skin, though no idea where the white and blonde hair would come from? Thaylen maybe, even though none of them have eyebrows?)

-Sorrun is just a mess because his eyes seem to shift shade from moment to moment. I guess it’s possible he was born Darkeyed and either won Shards or bonded with a spren and pulled a Kaladin. The image on the bottom left is what I actually set his eyecolor to, which is very dark blue. He’s probably Veden, given the auburn/red hair.

@matrim-cauthons-hat @physicsofgridlock -flails at you-

[spell-cleaver]

AAAgh! I love your fics! For the fanfic trope mashup would you do the Roommate AU for Han Solo and Luke Skywalker?

Thank you!!! I hope you like it!

Prompts from this post.

“Yousaid you’re alright with dogs, right?”

The kidwhose apartment he’d be sharing from now on—Luke—nodded. “Yeah, I lovedogs. Hello,” he cooed, as Chewie’s nose decided to investigate his palm.He sneezed briefly, then went back to sniffing the carpet. Luke turned back toHan.

“Fairwarning, though—my family have keys to the door, and they like to drop by atrandom times. I’ll introduce you to them later, individually. They canbe…” he scratched the back of his neck. “…a handful.”

“Ican deal with them,” Han assured him.

Luke threwhim a quick grin. “Great! I need to go buy some milk, so I’ll be back inabout half an hour.” He gestured around the living room. “Makeyourself at home.” Chewie nudged him again. “Both of you.”

Then, withanother beaming smile and a wave, he slammed the door shut behind him.

Hancollapsed onto one of the sofas.

Chewielicked his face.

“Ugh.”

He sighed,and turned to bury his face in the pillow. He liked the kid—really, he did! Heseemed nice!—but his constant niceness had been starting to grate on him. Hewas sure he’d grow to love it someday; for now, it was the tiniest bitirritating.

Really,though, Han just wanted his old flat back. He wanted to go back to livingalone, him and Chewie, just them against the world. Having to keep up decentrelationships with people promised to be exhausting.

Footstepsout in the corridor. A key scraping into the lock.

Han didn’tbother turning his face away from the cushion. It was probably the kid, comeback because he forgot money or something. He didn’t need to—

“Whothe fuck are you?”

The voicewas a man's—a lot deeper than Luke’s and harsh. Chewie barked a greeting—thenyelped just as loudly as Han did when a massive hand wrapped itself round hisankle and yanked him off the sofa.

He hit thefloor with a thud.

“Anakin!”a woman’s voice snapped. The sharp click-clack of high heels approached, andHan wondered how he hadn’t managed to hear the several sets of footsteps that had been outside his door. “Youcan’t just—”

“He broke into Luke’s apartment, and youwant me to be nice to him?”

“Hedidn’t break in, Dad,” another voice said. Han peeled one of his eyes opento look up at a smartly-dressed woman about Luke’s age, with a complicatedarray of brown braids at the back of her head. “Remember? Luke said he’dbe getting a roommate.”

“Flatmate,”the other—older—woman corrected.

“That.”

Theyounger woman smirked at Han and offered him a hand up. He ignored it,clambering to his feet on his own and ignoring how he could hear the manfussing over the rebuke.

The youngwoman didn’t seem bothered by it. She waited for him to get up, then said,“I assume you’re Han Solo?”

“Howcould you tell.”

“Thedog.” She tilted her head. “Luke was going on about how excited hewas to be living with a dog. You should’ve heard him; it was adorable.”

Despitehimself, Han was the teeniest bit gratified to hear that. “And who areyou?”

“I’mLeia, Luke’s twin,” she waved a dismissive hand at the others, “andthese are my parents. Anakin and Padmé Skywalker.”

Han turnedto look at them. The man looked a little like Luke, but with a scar over hisright eye that made him look a lot angrier than he already did. He glared; Hanhastily moved his gaze away.

Padmé,meanwhile, was the spitting image of her daughter, complete with a neat whiteblouse and pencil skirt. She’d wandered over to the kitchen amidst theconfusion; currently, she had the fridge door open and was frowning at itscontents appraisingly.

Han leanedsideways a little to look. It was fairly—almost impressively—well-stocked. Nodoubt why she said nothing except, “He’s out of milk.”

Her facebore the sort of faint concern Han imagined his own mother might have had, ifonly he’d… you know, known her.

“Hewent to get it,” he told her.

She nodded,then her gaze moved to the counter—and the wallet sitting atop it. “Ithink he forgot something.”

As if herwords were the cue, there were suddenly hurried footsteps outside, the scratchof key in lock—then Luke burst in, bright pink.

“I forgot my wallet!”

“Clearly,”Leia drawled. He spared a moment to give her a look, not even surprised by herrandom appearance in his flat, then grabbed his wallet and disappeared out thedoor again. Just before it slammed shut, he caught Han’s eye, and mouthed good luck.

Then hewas gone. Leaving Han to entertain his relatives.

Hansighed.

No milkfor tea or coffee. He hadn’t started unpacking yet. Anakin was still glaring athim like a blight upon the Earth.

Damn it, this was why he’d wanted to live alone!

His eyesfell upon Chewie, and he shrugged. “Anyone want to play fetch?”

[bananagator]

Cat Rohan’s Bizarre Adventures

AU: Rohan is afflicted by a Stand that makes him start acting like a cat.   Characters: Kishibe Rohan, Hirose Koichi

Part 1/--?

Completely platonic.  Inspired in part by this fanart.  Takes place after the events of Part 4.  Feel free to send messages/asks.  A big thanks to @emberhaze for encouraging me.

Kishibe Rohan made his way down the sidewalk in a good mood.  He even hummed a little to himself.  The weather was sunny and warm.  He’d spent his morning sketching at the park and was pleased at how much he’d gotten done.  As he passed by some houses in the neighborhood, he heard a sound.  He glanced sharply to the right.

“Oh? It’s just a cat...” Rohan said to himself and relaxed.  It was stretched out luxuriously on top of the warm stone wall.  Rohan smiled and reached out to pet the black and white cat.  The cat scarcely bothered to open its green eyes.  It lazily watched Rohan’s hand, then glanced up at Rohan’s face.  Just as his fingers were about to graze against its side, the cat’s eyes glowed.  Faster than lightning it struck out with a paw, hissing.

“Ow!!” Rohan jerked his hand back.  He glanced down at the three bright red scratches and then glared at the cat.  “What was that for, you stupid cat?” Rohan demanded.  The cat hissed again.  Rohan shoved his hand into his pocket for his pen, but the cat was already on its feet and leaped over to the other side of the wall before he could do anything more.

“That damn cat... I can’t believe it would dare to scratch the hand of me, Kishibe Rohan-- that arrogant little--” Rohan continued to mutter darkly in this manner as he walked the rest of the way back to his house.  He went through the front door.  He did not notice the same black and white cat from before staring at him from a tree.  Its green eyes glowed ominously.

Rohan shut the front door with his foot, set his bag down by the stairs and went into the kitchen to wash his hands. 

“Well, at least the scratches aren’t deep,” Rohan said.  He applied some thin strips of bandage to his hand and thought nothing more of it.

--

The next day...

The phone rang.

“Hello, this is Kishibe Rohan speaking.  ...  Oh Koichi-kun!! What can I do for you? ... Hm? Sure, I don’t mind.  I was just about to head out for a bit anyway.  Actually I just finished up my morning work, so I’m ahead of schedule  ... Sure, I can bring some pages if you’d like.  Alright I’ll see you.”

--

“Ah!! Rohan-sensei!! Over here!!” Koichi waved his arm.

“Good to see you Koichi-kun,” Rohan said.  He set his bag down next to an empty cafe chair.  “Just you then?”

“I think Josuke and Okuyasu are gambling at the pachinko parlor, but they might come by later.”

“Hmph.  Well, never mind those two.”  Rohan refrained from commenting on his distaste of Josuke gambling.  He raised his hand.  “Excuse me, waiter.  I’d like a cup of tea, please.”

“Huh?” Koichi said.  “Um, Rohan-sensei? What happened to your hand?”

“Oh this?” Rohan said.  “Some stupid cat scratched my hand., that’s all.”

“Huh?! What did you do to make it mad?!”

“Nothing!!” Rohan said heatedly.  “Like I said that cat is the one that scratched me!! All I did was try to pet it!!”

“So that’s how it is.... Geez, you really don’t have luck with animals, do you, Rohan-sensei?” Koichi sighed.

“Hmph.  If I see that cat again, I’m going to teach it a lesson.”

“Take it easy!! It was probably just startled by you.”

Rohan scowled.  “You weren’t there, Koichi-kun.  I swear, it was as if that cat had a grudge against me.”

Koichi laughed.  “Oh come on, Rohan-sensei, I think you’re overreacting.  Why would it have a grudge? Have you met it somewhere before?”

“No!! I’ve never seen it in my life!!”

“There, see? It can’t be a grudge.  You gotta pay attention to a cat’s body language more carefully.”

Something still didn’t sit well with Rohan about that, but he decided to let it go.

“Well, whatever.  Anyway, didn’t you say you wanted to see some of my illustration pages?”

“Oh!! Yes!! Please show them to me!!” Koichi said.  His eyes sparkled with excitement.  Rohan smiled and procured his sketch book.

“These are the ones from yesterday when I was at the park...”

“Oh, wow!! The textures are incredible!! And those animals are so life-like!! You’re amazing, Rohan-sensei!!”

“Of course I am,” Rohan said smugly.  He glanced around and then pulled out a manila envelope from his bag.  “And these are some pages from my manga that I’ve been working on.  Don’t tell anyone, okay?” he whispered.

“I won’t!! I promise!!” Koichi said happily.  He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be able to see Rohan’s manga pages, and his other work, let alone the original copies.

“Here’s your tea, sir.”

Rohan thanked the waiter, who nodded and left.

“It’s about time,” Rohan said.  He brought the cup of tea up to his lips.

“Uwah!! This double page spread is so cool!!” Koichi exclaimed.  “The details!! The depth!! Not to mention the perspective shot and the type of ink you used to really make this pop!! It’s almost blinding!!”

“Heh.  I'm glad you like it,” Rohan said, momentarily lowering his cup of tea.  “You have a good eye for noticing the ink I used is different.  I wanted to test my skills.”

“Amazing!!”

Rohan smirked.  He never got tired of being praised by Koichi.  He took a satisfied slurp of his tea.

Crash!

“Shit!!” Rohan was on his feet as though electrocuted, coughing and spitting.

“R-Rohan-sensei?!!” Koichi gasped.

“K-Koichi!! T-The pages!!” Rohan managed to cry out.  He had, unthinkingly, dropped his cup of tea when it had scalded his tongue.

“Aaagh!!” Koichi snatched the pages up off the table.  Rohan was hunched over the table covering his mouth with his hand and gripping for dear life with the other.  The other patrons of the cafe were staring and whispering.  The spilled tea seemed to blur in Rohan’s vision.

“Rohan-sensei, are y--” Koichi started to say.

“The pages...!! Did the pages get damaged?!”

Koichi froze.  He was still holding them aloft in the air.  He trembled and slowly, ever so slowly, turned his head to look.  Color drained from his face.  He let out a squeak of distress.

“Well?!” Rohan demanded.  “Are they damaged?”

“Uh... w-well...” Koichi swallowed.  “That is...” 

“Show me,” Rohan said quietly.  Koichi swallowed and nervously held forth the manga pages.  Splashes of tea now decorated the corners of the pages.  Rohan’s expression became stone.

“Um, I-I’m sorry Rohan-sensei!!” Koichi burst out.  “It’s all my fault!! If I had only grabbed the pages sooner then--”

“No, Koichi-kun...” he interrupted.  “That... It’s... not your fault.  I was the one who dropped the tea.”

“M-Maybe the panels themselves are still okay to use.”  Koichi started to carefully leaf through them.  “It’s mainly on the borders...”

Rohan bit his lip.  His sharp eyes could tell that splashes of tea had stained on a few of the panels.  It was incredibly hard to notice if you were an average person, but Rohan was not average, and the idea of submitting damaged pages to his editor was unthinkable.  The waiter came over.

“Please allow me to clean this up...” the waiter said.  “Can I offer you another cup, sir?”

Rohan turned upon the unfortunate waiter.  “What do you think you’re playing at serving me this?!” he said loudly.

“M-My apologies--”

Rohan jabbed his finger at the tea spilled all over.  “This tea is way too hot!! Are you trying to melt a hole in my mouth?!”

“I’m very sorry...”

“That’s got to be illegal!! I always come here because the service is decent, but whoever made this tea is an idiot!!”

“Rohan-sensei...” Koichi said timidly.  “Take it easy...”  Rohan ignored him.

“You must be slacking off if you didn’t bother to check the temperature!! It’s got to be well over 500 degrees!!”

“W-We always brew our green teas at a temperature of 175...”

“That’s absurd!! Can you even prove that?! I ought to sue!!”

Koichi’s brow quirked.  He’d had tea while waiting for Rohan, and it hadn’t seemed that hot...  He stared at the tea spill.  He reached out with a finger and touched it experimentally.  It’s not hot at all!! It’s warm...  If it was really as hot as Rohan-sensei says it is, there’s no way it’d cool down this much already...  What’s going on here?

“Hmph!!” Rohan’s tongue lolled out.  “Just bring me some cold water!! You can manage that at least, can’t you?”

The waiter bowed again and hurried off. 

“H-How's your tongue?” Koichi asked.  “Is it serious?”

“Eugh... This is terrible...” Rohan said, salivating a little. 

“Maybe you could ask Josuke to heal it for you?” Koichi suggested.

“As if I need his help...” Rohan muttered through his mouthful of drool.

Koichi hesitated.  If he voiced his doubts, he was afraid that Rohan would only get more upset.  He didn’t want to seem like he thought Rohan was lying.

“Rohan-sensei...” he started to say.  But the waiter was now back with water.

“H-Here’s your water,” the waiter said nervously.  He carefully set it down in front of Rohan and stood by anxiously watching and waiting.  Rohan pierced him with a hawk’s gaze.  The waiter was sweating about as much as the glass of water with its ice cubes.  Rohan’s sensitive tongue poked out and lapped up the water with agonizing deliberation.  His brows were knit tight.  He made a face and glared again at the waiter.

“This water... tastes strange.”

“I-Is it not to your liking?” the poor waiter wheezed.  “I’m very s--”

“It’s stale and metallic!! Are you trying to kill me?! Is that it?”

“N-No, I--”

“Rohan-sensei!!” Koichi said loudly.  “Please just let it go already.  It’s not the waiter’s fault.  Let’s just go somewhere else, okay?”  Rohan turned upon Koichi, who was steadfastly staring him down.  He seemed a little upset.  “Okay?” he said again with more emphasis this time.  Rohan felt his muscles twitch.

“Hmph.  Fine.  The service here is lousy anyway.”  Rohan got up and stalked off brimming with haughtiness.  Koichi carefully put the damaged manga pages back in their envelope, bowed a hasty apology to the waiter, left some money on table, and hurried after Rohan.

--

Rohan was half a block away by the time Koichi caught up.

“Wait!! I said, wait!! Rohan-sensei!!”  Rohan still didn’t turn towards him.  “Geez!! You forgot your bag, you dummy!!” Koichi huffed irritably.  His words finally made Rohan stop.  He looked at Koichi.  Seeing the boy’s annoyance made his own vanish in an instant.

“S-Sorry... Koichi-kun...” Rohan said awkwardly.  “Thank you for bringing my portfolio along.  It was careless of me to forget... I... I was just--”

“This is important to you, Rohan-sensei...” Koichi said.  “So...”  He held it out to Rohan, who accepted it from him.

"Thank you, Koichi-kun,” Rohan said quietly.

“Um... why don’t we go the park?” Koichi offered.

Rohan smiled faintly at Koichi.  “Yeah... Maybe that will calm my nerves a bit...”

--

“Look, a water fountain.”  Koichi pointed.  “Why don’t we get a drink there? Maybe it’ll help your burnt tongue.”

“Sounds good,” Rohan said.  His words were slightly slurred.  He approached the fountain in silent relief.  The water from the park was always nice and cool.  As he pressed the button, a strange feeling came over him.  He blinked and then leaned forward, tilting his head all the way to the side.  His tongue lapped at the water.  Some of it splashed on his nose, and he pulled back.  He blinked in confusion but shook his head and tried again. 

Koichi was only half sure he wanted to laugh.  Rohan kept accidentally splashing himself in the eyes and nose.  “Uh, Rohan-sensei...  half of that is going on your face...”  By this time a line had formed behind them. 

“Hey, quit hogging the water fountain!!” someone called out, and they were met with a chorus of others in agreement.

“A-Alright, let’s just...” Koichi said laughing awkwardly and tugging on Rohan’s arm to lead him away.  Rohan insisted on continuing to lap at the water fountain even as Koichi pulled on him.  It was only to avoid falling over that Rohan shifted his feet to follow Koichi, but he was still leaning over the entire while.  Finally Koichi managed to guide Rohan to a tree with ample shade.

“Phew!” Koichi plopped down.  Rohan set down his bag and dramatically threw himself down upon the grass.

“Aaah!!” he shouted.  He rolled on the grass.  “That waiter makes me mad.”

“Like I said it’s not his fault,” Koichi said.  “Although I do understand why you were so frustrated.”

Rohan rolled back.

“Um, you’re on my feet..” Koichi said.  Rohan seemed not to hear and continued to lie there with his arms stretched all the way up over his head.  Rohan stared up absentmindedly at the dappled leaves.  Koichi sat and watched the people in the distance.  He chanced a peek at Rohan’s face, which, although no longer as heated, still bore the tell-tale signs of unhappiness.  Koichi squirmed a little.

“I’m sorry, Rohan-sensei...” he said.

“Hm? What are you apologizing for now?”

“B-Because!! I let your manga pages get tea on them!! I know how hard you worked on those!!”

“You still going on about that? Like I told you, it’s not your fault.”

“But--!!”

“Ko-i-chi-kun.  I’m not mad.  It’s okay.  I can still submit my pages on time.”

“... Still... what exactly happened back there...” Koichi said.  “Rohan-sensei... don’t take this the wrong way but... I ordered their tea while I was waiting for you and...  It was just fine.”

Rohan glanced at Koichi.  “What are you trying to say?”

“It’s just... strange, that’s all.  There isn’t anyone who uses water that hot for brewing tea.  Maybe...”

“Maybe?” Rohan prompted.

Koichi looked nervous.  “Maybe you just have a cat’s tongue.”

Rohan’s expression went completely blank.  He remained that way for such a long time that Koichi was incredibly uncomfortable.  Then Rohan rolled over onto his side and off of Koichi’s toes. 

“Ridiculous,” Rohan snapped.  “Are you saying I’m a liar?”

“N-No!! No, I’m not saying that!! Please don’t get mad at me.  I’m just trying to come up with other possibilities!!”

For a moment Rohan said nothing, then mumbled into the grass, “... Maybe you’re right.  Sorry.”  He heard Koichi sigh.  As Rohan lay with his face against the grass, he focused on the individual blades of grass and the cool sensation against his skin.  It felt pleasant and the blades were so pristine...  Absentmindedly, he plucked one grass blade and ground it between his teeth.  Doesn’t taste half-bad... he thought.  He plucked another blade of grass with his teeth.

“Grass is nice...” he said.

“Huh? Oh yeah... I guess it is,” Koichi replied, not understanding the true meaning behind Rohan’s words.  From where he was sitting, he couldn’t see that Rohan was eating the grass.

The clouds drifted lazily through the clear sky.  The sun shone cheerfully.  Gradually the tension eased in Rohan’s body.  He found he was content to simply lay on his side and chew on the grass.  His eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.  He was awoken by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Rohan-sensei? Wake up...”

He rolled over and saw Koichi.  “Nnh? Koichi-kun? ... Did... I fall asleep?”

“Yeah you sorta dozed off.  I didn’t want to wake you, but it’s getting late.  We should head home soon.”

“Ah, okay.”  Rohan arched his back as he sat up.

The two of them walked together in silence until reaching Rohan’s house.

“Well, I’ll see you later.  Take it easy okay, Rohan-sensei?”

“Heh.  Don’t worry, I will.  Be careful on your way back home, Koichi-kun.”

Once inside Rohan peeked out the blinds and watched Koichi until he disappeared from sight.  The second he was gone, Rohan spun about at once and made his way upstairs to his work studio.  He flicked on the lights and strode to the desk.  From within his bag, he pulled out the manila envelope of his manuscript, took out the sheaf of paper, and carelessly tossed the envelope over his shoulder.  The ugly stains had spread their blight through nearly every page.  He sat down and held each sheet up to the light with the scrutiny of a forensics expert.  He sat there examining every last one, front and back.  With each page, the stains lessened in size.  Yet, within Rohan something began to grow.

Teeth clenched.  Rohan let out a strangled noise of fury and scattered the pages off his desk.  He was scarcely aware of having stood up but he gazed at the paper which fanned out across his floor.  The tea stains seemed to mock him.  He swore.  His bandaged hand slammed against the wall.  “How the hell could I have let this happen?!”

Rohan exhaled sharply and pulled out a fresh stack of paper.

“Calm down...  I just have to redraw every single page... I can get this done...  That’s right...  I’m still ahead of schedule...  I can do this...  No sweat...”

He sat back down, clipped a sheet of paper to the desk, pulled out his trusted inking pen, and held it to the paper.  Rohan found himself gazing at the blank white paper.  A buzzing sound seemed to fill his brain, and spill gradually into the rest of him.  His pen didn’t move.  He frowned and shook his head a little.  Sweat dripped down his jaw.  He pressed the pen to the page but still did not start to draw.  His muscles were wound up tighter than the springs of a mouse trap.  He pressed harder.  An ink blot slowly formed.  There was a ringing sound now.  And something else.  Rohan shook his head once more.  It was almost impossible to tell if he was simply imagining the noises.  But the whispering rush of nothing was giving him a headache that concentrated itself in his skull just as surely as the ink blot blossomed beneath his pen.

He let out a frustrated cry and sprang to his feet. 

“Heaven’s Door!!”  In the air behind him, his Stand materialized.  It had the appearance of a young boy.  It did not speak.  However, in its large green eyes a mysterious glimmer of intelligence shone.  Rohan held his pen as though it were a dagger.

Swish!! Swish!! Swish!! The pen cut through the air with swathes of ink.  Adrenaline-fueled shouts accompanied each stroke and increased in volume.  Lines and backgrounds began to materialize.  Textures and shades followed.  Sound effects, too.  Rohan stood panting as Heaven’s Door silently hovered over his shoulder.  The pair of them approached the page, which was now full of vivid detail.  Rohan’s eyes swept over it.  He yanked it off the desk clips.  Heaven’s Door turned to look at him for but a moment.  If one had to try and describe it, the expression in its eyes seemed to be that of concern.

Rohan searched the page with fervor.  But the more he looked, the more one thing became glaringly obvious: it was all wrong.  He trembled.  There was no mistaking it: this was not worthy to be seen by anyone.  The paper began to crinkle in his grasp.

“Just what... the hell... is this....” He whispered in angry disbelief.  “This isn’t...  This is crap...!! Why... Why?!”  Rohan did something then that he had not done in a very, very long time: he crushed the page in his hands.  This time, Heaven’s Door seemed visibly alarmed.  However, Rohan waved it aside to dismiss it.  Heaven’s Door disappeared.  Rohan was halfway across the room by the time the wadded up paper hit the floor and rolled amidst the scattered, stained pages of paper.

--

Later that night...

Rohan paced about his house.  Tension coiled deep in his stomach.  He had attempted to lie down in his bed.  Scarcely had he flopped onto the comforters than he was up again.  Restless energy hot-wired itself through his body.  Back and forth he went along the upper landing of his home like a caged tiger. 

What’s more his eardrums throbbed.  It was maddening; Rohan grew convinced that he was not simply imagining it.  He paced faster and faster as though he could outrun the noise in his own mind.  Outside his work room, the thrumming, scratching, ringing, rustling, had only grown more apparent, but sleep was not an option. 

He shook his head repeatedly.  He sprang down the stairs three at a time.  As he approached the kitchen the thrumming grew louder.

“What is that?” he muttered.  “Wait... Could it be an enemy?”  But the answer was far less menacing.  “The refrigerator?” he said in confusion.  “... Was it always this loud?”

He walked out of the kitchen and wondered if he should get a mechanic to take a look at it.  He continued his rounds about the house.  The further he got from the fridge, the easier it was to hear other noises like an incessant scritch-scratching and rustling air.  Try as he might, however, Rohan was unable to find the source of those noises.  At last he hauled himself up the stairs.  He avoided the work studio and went to his bed.  Instead of pulling back the comforters like usual, he crawled under the comforters head first and squirmed around in a circle before huddling down and burying his face in the pillow.  By this time the thin fingers of dawn’s grey light were creeping through the window.  Rohan burrowed deeper and passed out.