#Fedoraspooky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cryptidsofwakemoor · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 11 - Gratuitous Waffle Violence

Matchstick uses eating utensils to varying degrees of success, while Tikki draws up a roommate contract.

~*~

Mystic

Morning comes again, as it always does.

And with it, the spicy smell of a hot drink, as the catalyst to his waking.

Sitting on the rug next to the couch is another mug of the hot 'cider' Tikki made the previous night- but he can smell something else, too. The scent of the only other hot drink he was familiar with, the one the scientists in the lab carried around sometimes. It was earthy and bitter, but not in an unpleasant way.

Clinking noises from the kitchen, and plap plaps. Tikki must be awake, and making something.

Spooky

Slowly he unfolds himself, lanky legs stretching out from under the blankets followed by his upper torso and arms, his bones popping. He wasn't used to sleeping on something quite this soft... Sprawled out on the couch, he turns his head to try and see what Tikki's doing, but all he sees is her back as she prepares something just out of his view.

He was almost reluctant to get up, but the smell of the cider beckoned, and his mouth was feeling dry. He leaned down and scooped the mug up from the ground, holding it carefully in both hands and slurping noisily.

Mystic

"Wow, your bones sound like glow sticks," Tikki comments, back still turned. "First time you're sleeping on something soft?"

She tried to hide how much the thought pissed her off. Who was responsible for taking care of this kid in the 'lab'? They were shit at their job. Probably on purpose, which made her more angry, which forced her to stuff that feeling away for another molotov cocktail that surely wouldn't detonate later.

"I made you more cider- sounds like it did the job last night," she continues, not waiting for a response. "You should start drinking more regular water after this, though. Can't have you dehydrated, and you'll get more energy back if you eat properly. Which probably means I shouldn't be giving you too much sugar, but ehh..."

Tikki eventually turns back around, this time carrying a platter over to a strange contraption on a rotating spit. She flips it open, and pulls a set of puffy, boxy discs from inside. Loading up a plate with four separate discs, she sets up a second platter with only two, and lathers them in a translucent golden-brown syrup. With a march in her step, still wearing her colorful fish pajamas, she goes back to the living room that seemed to their designated eating space for the moment.

Tikki holds out the plate to him, complete with the utensils he wasn't sure how to use, and sits with her own.

"You're going to want the cutlery for this one," she says, smirking as she sips from her hot drink. "It's very sticky without it. Then we can start talking plans for whatever you're doing."

Spooky

He took the plate and was just about to pick up the food with his other hand, though he stopped dead in his tracks when she warned about it being sticky. Remembering the nectar tubes outside, he was reminded all too well that ‘sticky’ meant having to wash off.

Not really keen on taking another bath so soon, he considered the metal instruments that were given to him along with the disc- a long, flat one and another one with four prongs. Tikki had used the pronged one just yesterday to eat the, uh... theeeee omm... omelet! Yeah, she stabbed it and used it to pick it up. Didn't seem too hard.

He sat down and put the white disc in his lap, wrapping his fingers around the handle of the pronged utensil until he was holding it in his fist. He then lifted it and stabbed it more viciously than necessary into the food disc at top of the stack, attempting to pick the whole thing up with it. The puffy food was soft despite its crispier outside, though, and fell off the utensil, landing with a syrupy plap back on the stack and lightly splattering him in the stuff.

He slouched forward a bit in response, his brow knit together as his eyes regarded the stack with a rather grumpy look.

Mystic

Tikki snorts into her mug, clearing her throat before setting it aside, and picking up her own utensils.

"You have to cut the waffle, first," she explains, taking the fork and poking it, then cutting into it with the knife in the other hand while the plate rests on her lap. "You can use the knife, or the edge of the fork if you're lazy, like me."

Tikki then does just that, using the side of the fork to cut another square of her food. It takes a bit more wiggling, but once it's free, she pops it into her mouth just as easily.

"I'll get you a wet napkin after we eat, don't worry about it."

Spooky

He huffed out a breath and picked up the knife in his other hand, holding it just about as clumsily as he did with the fork. He stabbed the stack with the fork once more, then stabbed his knife into it as well, awkwardly sawing back and forth with it until it scraped noisily against the plate.

He stopped, grimacing at the sound but... there weren't any pieces free yet, so he wrenched the knife to the side and started sawing again.

Yeah, he was definitely going to need a napkin.

At last he managed to get it into smaller pieces... He stabbed those, carefully lifted them up to his mouth, and finally was able to take a bite. His eyes widened. While this whole utensils thing had been a bit more complicated of a way to eat something... It was so fucking worth it! The... bread? was nice and crisp, and the syrup was way better than the sugar water in those flower tubes. Prior annoyance forgotten, he licked his chops and went to stab another piece.

Mystic

Tikki shakes her head in mild amusement, eating some more of her own waffles.

"You might have an easier time if you're a bit more gentle about it," she says, smiling tiredly as she lifts her mug and takes another drink. "Moving harshly is what splattered the syrup. One sec-"

Tikki goes to the kitchen, grabs a napkin from a rung, and soaks it with a bit of hot water. Returning to the couch area, she holds it out to him.

"Here- you can wipe off the syrup with this."

Sitting back down, she hums, finishing her own two waffles in short order.

She waits quietly while he eats, drinking more of her mystery drink.

"So..." she says, finally breaking the silence once he's had time to work through the stack of waffles. "What's your plan going forward, Sticks? Do you have an idea of what you want to do?"

Spooky

He paused and looked up from his plate, his cheeks visibly stuffed with waffle and syrup dripping from his mouth. Then, still wide-eyed, he looked past her, not really at anything in particular.

Plan going forward? He'd been on the run for a while now, technically free even if he was being hunted, but up to this point it felt like his days had to be almost entirely devoted to his continued survival. If it wasn't hiding, it was food and water he was primarily focused on.

Now that those needs were met, though...

Now what...?

His eyes focused on her again, and he looked almost as if he was expecting her to continue on with what she wanted him to do, but no instructions were forthcoming.

Feeling lost, he gave a noncommittal shrug and went back to eating.

Mystic

Tikki hums, frowning a little.

"Okay, maybe that was a bit too broad," she acquiesces, cleaning a bit of syrup off her plate with the fork and nibbling it off the tines, almost literally chewing over her thoughts. "Anywhere in particular you want to go? You don't have to stay in this town if you don't want to- from the sounds of it, you seem pretty scared. I can help, but... I don't know, I guess I just feel bad that you seem so afraid all the time. You shouldn't have to be."

She felt a little bad pointing it out, but it needed to be said. She was observant. She'd seen him running for cover in the trees, acting like exposure to the world for even a fraction of a second meant certain death. Granted, she had no idea which 'lab' was responsible for... this. Whatever they'd done to him. Who knows, they could be near town.

"...it- reminds me of how I used to feel, early on," Tikki explains, scratching at one arm. Her pointed fingers catch lightly on the silver scales that faintly dust over her regular teal ones.

Spooky

With his waffles now gone too, he stuck the end of the fork in his mouth for a minute as he tried to think. When he took it back out again, the tines were red hot.

"Where else...?" He mumbled, looking down at the syrup puddle on his plate. It wasn't very reflective, but he could see the vague circular shadow of his head in it, blocking out the light that would otherwise be making it shine.

He truly didn't know any other place in this world, and it had taken a while just to get used to this one. Maybe it would've been better to just have kept running until he was far away, but even on the outside it seemed like he couldn't really escape. How long would he have to run until he didn't see that logo anymore? Until he knew he was out of their reach?

"They're ehn... ev... everywhere," he added.

Mystic

"...oh."

Tikki seems saddened by this, frowning as she looks down at her own empty plate.

"...I'm sorry," she says. "I know I didn't have anything to do with it, but- well, somebody has to say it."

...

"...who did it?"

Dangerous question to ask. But then, it was dangerous for her to simply have him in her home, and she seemed fine enough breaking that rule.

Spooky

He slid his fork around in the syrup, though he made no move to lick it or anything- it was just movement for movement's sake.

He was clearly hesitant to answer... Not because he didn't trust Tikki by this point, but moreso that he was afraid. Perhaps irrationally so, since it wasn't like it would summon them to just utter the name of it... But knowing that didn't ease his paranoia any. Still... if he was going to stay, she deserved to know, if only so she knew who to avoid too...

After seeming like he wasn't going to say anything, he finally opened his mouth and spoke again, this time in a whisper.

"Aria."

Mystic

...

"...wait."

Tikki says nothing for a moment as the gears turn. She sits up, removing a small tablet device from a pocket on her pajamas. She taps at it for a second, staring at the screen on the front as a light comes on, casting faint illumination on her cheeks.

"Aria, as in- the megacorporation? The company that does appliance and tech delivery, and is a giant monument to the follies of capitalism?" Despite almost none of these words making sense to him, Tikki seems to be getting incensed the deeper she goes, so it must have communicated something accurate to the true Aria conglomerate. "Ugh. Figures it would be a giant business with its fingers in so many pies that it could pay to get away with murder."

It was truly sad how little of an exaggeration that statement was. Tikki had no doubt in her mind that if this kid stayed where he'd been before, and proved not useful enough to whoever deemed the criteria, they could have simply erased him. Be done with him and act like he was never there- against his will or not.

"You can't leave, then," Tikki continues, thinking. "Otherwise, you'll get caught by the vainglorious manchildren with too much padding in their wallets. I'm certainly not going to turn you over to that. So... do you want to stay, then? Again, I don't have much, but... I have a roof and a couch, and I'd like to think I'm pretty good at avoiding the public eye."

Spooky

There were a lot of terms being used that were flying over his head, but as he leaned to try and get a look at her screen, his wide-eyed, anxious reaction upon seeing the logo was all it took to confirm it for her.

He stared down as she scrolled through the results, his shoulders tense.

While he had been developed in their labs, the fact remained that he didn't understand the full scope of what Aria was. How could he? He had seen computers before plenty of times, but he'd never been allowed to use one himself. He'd never had money before, to his knowledge. The smiling, corporate facade of this company was just baffling to him, it painted a friendly picture so alien from the place he was used to that it gave him a severe sense of tonal whiplash just to think about it.

Listening to her, though, was kind of cathartic even if he didn't know some of what she was saying. Her anger was a small comfort to him, and it made him feel less alone in the world to know he had at least one person who had his back in this case.

Even though he was worried about what they would do to her if they found her, let alone what they would do if they found out she'd been hiding him...

At this point, the question wasn't whether or not he wanted to stay- he did, very much so. The question was really more like 'am i willing to risk Tikki's safety?' Tikki was the first and only truly friendly face he'd encountered... that he... didn't struggle to recall from an old memory, anyway.

On one hand, it would be dangerous, but on the other... He was a weapon. If they did track him down, or did anything to hurt Tikki... He would make them hurt too.Or worse.

Looking back up at her with a more resolute expression, he nodded.

He wanted to stay.

Mystic

Tikki smiles, pleased with this response- and kind of relieved.

“Oh good,” she exhales. “I wanted to give you the choice, but I won’t lie, I was probably going to worry about you a lot if you left.”

Tikki sets her plate aside and claps her hands together.

“Then, I guess we gotta draw up a roommate contract. Y’know- lay down some terms so we’re both comfortable.”

She leans over to rifle through a drawer of the cabinet set under the silent television, removing a yellow paper pad and pencil. Snapping the paper out flat, she places it on her knees and starts writing, talking while she does so.

“I’ve never had to share a space with someone that wasn’t a sibling before, much less on land, but I think I can handle that. Since this is my house, here are my terms: One, obviously you don’t have a job, so you can’t pay rent. That’s fine- but you’re going to have to help me around the house. Managing a space for two people is a challenge on my own, and in the process, I can teach you how to take care of yourself. Like laundry, cooking, etcetera... I’m not going to be your maid, but you’re not going to be mine, either. Could be helpful in an emergency, like if I get um- indisposed. Basically I’m just saying we help each other, okay? Two, you don’t sell out my uh-“

Tikki scratches behind her neck.

”-medical condition to any authorities. I’m not even normal by non-human standards, but hey, neither of us are very normal, are we? It’s like we’re made for each other,” she jokes.

Tikki finishes writing her notes, tapping the pencil on the paper before her gaze slides over to him.

“Does that sound fair? Anything you’d like to add, any rules you want to lay down?”

Spooky

The corners of his mouth quirked up a little at her relieved response, though it quickly turned to a look of surprise when she grabbed a paper and started talking about a 'contract'. That was a word he'd heard before, he was pretty sure, but like most things he overheard in random conversation snippets from scientists, he didn't have enough context to really understand what it meant.

Listening to Tikki though, he was able to figure out that it seemed to be some form of agreement. Wasn't sure why it had to be written down though... Maybe so both people wouldn't forget it?

Idly licking the syrup from his plate as he watched her write, he did his best to follow what she was saying- he wasn't sure what a rent was or what 'indisposed' meant- but he was able to grasp the main idea of it. 'Help each other' seemed reasonable enough.

Second part seemed obvious enough to him that it didn't really need to be written. After all, he did already promise that he would keep the secret! But if she felt better writing it on the paper too, well, that would be alright.

It sounded fair enough, so he gave a nod to that question, though when asked if there was anything he wanted to add, any rules he wanted... He got that far-off look in his eyes again and set the plate back down in his lap, immediately paralyzed by choice. While in the lab there were a lot of decisions he wished he could make in regards to his living situation, like no more ‘resilience testing’ chambers or shackles, or no more jabbing metal shit into his back... It didn't seem like Tikki's house had anything of the sort, and he'd only been here for one night.

What could he want that would apply to this place? He glanced over at Slithers as if to see if he had any ideas, but as Slithers was an inanimate plushie, no suggestions were forthcoming.

He gave an awkward shrug to Tikki. There was only one thing he could think of that was super obvious, but if they were gonna write everything down, might as well.

"Hh... Hide me... from Aria," he said.

Mystic

Tikki nods, not questioning the request in the slightest.

“Good, we’re on the same page.” She puts a line on the paper between her points and his, writing ‘Stick’s Rules’ above his section. “We can add more if you think about anything later.”

Tikki finished writing, and signed it with a looping scribble of some sort.

“I do have a guest room,” Tikki explains, sheepish all of the sudden, “but it’s- not furnished. I never had a reason to buy a second bed, and I was… kinda using it as my indoor hiding place when I change? So unfortunately that room isn’t usable right now, cuz it’s just kinda an empty box. Maybe sometime soon, though, once I save up enough money, we can set you up in there? Apologies in advance for any damage to the room. It’ll take a while, so you can have this living room as your space until that day. I don’t use it much anyway, the fireplace dries out my scales.”

Spooky

He blinked, perking up a little bit in intrigue. A room of his own?

His cell back at the lab had been very sparse save for restraints, and it was more part of a larger room with heavy duty viewing windows separating them. Needless to say it hardly felt like a space to call his own, not with so many eyes on him.

He would gladly take an empty cameraless box over that, at least it offered some privacy. In the meantime, though, the living room seemed nice.

...Why was it called a living room, though? Didn't seem like it was alive, any more so than the rest of the building at least. Weird...

Still, the thought of staying in it was kind of exciting- it was warm, had a lot of stuff to look at, there were good smells from the kitchen, and he liked the fireplace. It was probably a good thing he didn't have any scales to worry about drying out.

...That did remind him, though. Tikki was a fish lady. Weren't fish supposed to live in water? There was an aquarium at the lab. He'd only seen it a few times in passing, but it was a rare spot of colors and visual interest in an otherwise mostly monochrome environment, and he probably could have watched it for hours if they'd have let him. There were fish in Tikki's room too, though that tank wasn't nearly as big, nor populated.

The only water he'd ever seen Tikki in, though, had been the pond outside. Did she normally go in there when it wasn't iced over? Hm...

That in turn made him wonder about the place she said she was from before. Picking up Slithers and looking down at its beady lil' eyes, he thought for a moment before asking: "what's... Sea?"

Mystic

Tikki blinks. Her eyebrows raise when she realizes what he was asking.

“Oh- the sea! It’s a large body of saltwater, just a few miles away, also called the ocean. You can’t drink it, but the water is home to a lot of colorful fish, animals, and plants. My people live there- in your tongue we’re called ‘mermaids’. There are some of us that can live in rivers, but most of us live deep in the ocean. It’s my-“

She pauses, the cheer dissipating for a brief moment. When she speaks again, it’s muted.

“-was my home.”

Spooky

It didn't escape his notice how her expression seemed to light up when she started describing it, but faded so quickly at the mention of her leaving. It was... very clear she hadn't wanted to go. Something had forced her to leave. Whatever the reason was, it probably prevented her from going back, too...

Remembering Slithers's purpose, though, he lifted the plush up and nudged her shoulder with it, trying to hand it back to her.

"...don't like water..." he mumbled, sliding his hand over the nape of his neck. "liked... watchin' fish, though." His voice was still weak, but it was at least sounding a little better today, and not as much like he'd been gargling gravel.

Mystic

Tikki glances over in confusion as she feels something squish against her. Then she smiles, seeing the plush. She takes it and gives it a small hug.

“Thanks,” she mumbles. “You’re a good kid.”

A sigh.

…after a few moments, she places the plush back on the couch next to him. She appreciated the gesture.

“Yeah? Fish like watching us, too,” Tikki says with a chuckle. “You gave the guppies a big spook when you woke us up. They’ve been babbling about you all morning. They think you’re some kind of giant walking eel.”

Tikki stretches her back, grunting as the vertebrae pop a little.

“Any other questions you got for me? Since we’re laying all cards on the table now, might as well, I guess. You already know my biggest secret.”

Spooky

There it was again, that odd chuffing kind of laugh, the best he could manage currently. Eels were those noodly ones with all the teeth, right? He only really saw them poking their heads out from rocks in their tank for the most part, but they looked kind of goofy. The mental image of him poking his head out of a rock and opening and closing his mouth a lot just struck him as way too silly not to laugh, despite the state of his voice.

"Tell 'em sorry," he rasped, coughing a little from the laugh. He didn't mean to spook them, but at this point he was kind of used to that reaction.

That did remind him, though, of something else odd he noticed the night before. "...I couldn't h- hear 'em..." he whispered, trying to give his voice a break. He'd seen them swim towards Tikki, and they seemed to be the ones to wake her... but surely enough, he'd only heard the bubbling of the filter at most.

Mystic

"Oh don't worry, I did," Tikki giggles, sipping from her mug. "Guppies aren't the brightest, and thought your glowing eyes meant you were a predator there to eat them or something."

Hearing him whisper and cough, she reaches over and pats him on the shoulder.

"It's okay, take it easy on your throat. You'll probably need several more days of resting your throat and drinking cider or tea with honey to heal whatever damage you may have."

Tikki takes his mug, which was now empty, and goes to refill it in the kitchen.

"I'd be surprised if you could hear them!" Tikki says idly. "It's a mermaid thing- we can talk to fish, and understand them. They're not always intelligent, it can depend on the individual, or even type of fish. Usually larger fish are smarter- bigger brains to absorb more information, n' all. Anything that's not a fish, like turtles or otters, are harder to communicate with; not quite the same language."

Spooky

Huh... That sounded pretty nice, talking to animals... even if only a certain type of 'em. He'd seen a few animals at the lab, and plenty more of them while roughing it outside, but they didn't seem to like him. They usually ran away before he could even get close, which made sense for the wild ones, but even the domestic ones that were perfectly fine with being around humans seemed to freak out when they saw him. Which sucked, because they were cute, and it seemed like it would be nice to pet them...

His gaze drifted down to his hands, and his eyes fell half-lidded as he sighed. Yeah, right... Probably better that he didn't, he'd probably just crush or burn them by accident or something...

He didn't notice Tikki returning until a refilled mug entered his view, and it almost made him jump for a second.

Mystic

"I don't blame you for being skittish," Tikki says, somber as she hands him the refilled mug. "I don't know your full story, but I can imagine you've been through some hell. It's okay if you need time, there's no shame in it."

Leaving him to his drink, she picks up the contract and folds it, tucking it into a pocket on her pajamas. Hands now mostly free, she grabs his abandoned plate and stacks it on top of her own to go clean.

"Which reminds me- you've been kinda running around in tatters for a while." Tikki looks over her shoulder from the sink. "You need clothes besides- y'know- a blanket. Are you fine with hand-me-downs? Just nod yes or shake your head for no, to save your voice."

Spooky

He looked over his shoulder and tilted his head at the term 'hand-me-downs', having never heard it before, but... he did know what clothes were, and while the blanket had been doing okay at keeping him warm, it was a little annoying to have to hold it around him with his hand to keep it from falling down...

Also, a quick look at the shorts he'd been in since before he'd even escaped- now threadbare in places and torn in others- told him they were definitely not going to last much longer.

Not wanting to go completely without, he looked back up at her and nodded quickly, his face faintly glowing in embarrassment.

Mystic

Tikki accepts that answer.

“Awesome. I’ll see what I have that fits- might be a little big for even you, since I’ll need to pick something not form-fitting, but you’ll grow into them.” She gives him a quick, wry smile. “As if you’re not already a beanpole, heh.”

True to her word, once Tikki finishes with kitchen cleanup, and walks back off toward her room and disappears again for a few minutes. He can hear the distant clatter of moving drawers and the creak of hinges on closet doors, along with a faint plastic clicking noise. Eventually, she emerges with a small armload of cloth.

“Got some sweatpants and leisure shirts that’ll probably be fine,” she says, rifling through them before lightly tossing them in his direction. They land on the couch cushion with a pff. “Mostly just comfort clothes. Go ahead and use the bathroom whenever you want to change.”

Spooky

He made a face at the beanpole comment as she turned back around to finish up in the kitchen. Beanpole? What does that even mean??

When Tikki left to get the clothes, he looked himself over front and back, trying to figure out what she meant. The moment he heard her returning, however, he quickly stopped and pretended to just be chillin' out with his arms loosely crossed instead.

When she unceremoniously tossed the clothes on the couch next to him, he was quick to start checking them out. On top of the pile was a big shirt that, when held up, had a drawing of an orange animal sleeping in a red box, with a blue blanket draped over them, and the words 'I HATE MONDAYS' on it.

He blinked, before shrugging and tossing it back on the clothes pile. He then scooped the whole thing up in his arms and went off to the bathroom to get dressed.

~*~

Previous | Chapter Index | Next

New reader? You can start here!

#stickman #stickmanoc #stickman oc #mermaid oc #merperson #lab experiment oc #writing #original fiction #cosmic fiasco #cosmic fiasco cryptids #fedoraspooky #mysticdoodles #art by fedoraspooky

44 notes · View notes

cryptidsofwakemoor · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 10 - Paranoia

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that."

~*~

Mystic

Tikki works on her own omelet in comfortable silence, letting her guest relax by the fire while she filled her own egg patty with her additions of choice. Once her folded egg taco was on the plate, she drizzled some kind of red liquid over top of it, and took up those metal tools he could never quite understand the purpose of. Lifting her plate, she goes to sit at the couch, and- uses the tiny knife and spoked thing to poke and cut her omelet, eating it off the utensils.

Oh. That’s what they were for. She didn’t need to get food on her hands at all.

…

“Have you been on the streets your whole life?” Tikki asks, quiet.

Spooky

He looks up from watching her cut the omelet and poke it with the pronged thing, before frowning a little and shaking his head no.

No, being on the streets was a relatively new thing for him. In a way, he had kind of lucked out that adaptability was part of his training, otherwise he may not've survived very long, but... This probably wasn't what they had in mind while training him. It was more for use in battle.

He glances down at the floor in front of him, wishing he still had the snow and stick to help him explain things. The best thing he could do for now, though, was try and sum up everything he could into one word, and force it out of his uncooperative throat.

"L.. ll- laa... b," he rasps, looking back at her.

Mystic

Tikki, who had been mid-bite of her own omelet, chokes on the piece of food. She has to pound on her chest for a second before the food is dislodged, and she can breathe again.

In just one word, that was- quite a bit of information to swallow. Just like her omelet.

"I'm- hkf- sorry," Tikki apologizes, rubbing at her throat for a moment. "You- wh- but- how-? You came from a lab? Excuse me? As in- wait-"

She frowns, staring into space. He can see it in her eyes- she was putting together a lot of puzzle pieces. She sets aside the plate, losing her appetite in this moment.

"...that- suddenly a lot of things make sense. But- why were you in a lab?"

Spooky

He looked alarmed when she choked on her food, but once she'd dealt with that enough to ask him more questions, he ducked his head slightly and slid his hand over the nape of his neck. He gave a small shrug, mainly because he didn't know how he'd got there. He couldn't really remember being anywhere else, leading him to think that maybe he was born there…? Though there were some things he could just barely recall that seemed to contradict that.

He knew what trees were, before he’d even escaped. They'd never let him outside, not once, but he could picture outside, sometimes in dreams... And there were other things, too. Faded voices and shapes, and strong emotions attached that left him feeling lost, scared, and like he'd been hollowed out whenever he thought about it too hard.

So usually, he didn't.

All he had for an answer as to why he was there was what they were developing him for.

"...w... wepn," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and looking back at the burning fireplace.

Mystic

...There's a long pause.

Even though he wasn't facing her, he could feel her eyes boring into him. Analyzing.

Behind his back, the scales on the back of Tikki's arm start to stand on end. She clasps at her forearms with her hands, clenching her jaw as she wills the beast back into the depths, forcing the scales back down.

The thought, and all the implications it carried, made her so, so angry. But she just got back to normal from a shift- if she let it happen again so soon, it would exhaust her. She'd be so depleted of energy that she wouldn't want to move for a week, and she wasn't in a position to let that happen anymore.

"...Okay," she says, finally. A brief, forceful exhale as she quells her outrage for his sake. "I see why you ran away, now."

Tikki puts her chin in one hand, thinking. Then her eyes flick to the door. Then back to him in worry.

"...Am I gonna get in trouble with the law or something if someone finds out you're in my house? Are YOU in trouble with whoever you ran from?"

Not that she was particularly bothered by the idea of someone reprehensible showing up at the door. She'd welcome the opportunity to feed someone a knuckle sandwich and have it be sweet justice. But not at the cost of somebody else being put in danger.

Spooky

Feeling her staring, he glanced back at her, worried he'd made her angry at him. He could sense the tension, and his eyes turned downwards as he fidgeted with his hands.

Her questions didn't assuage his nerves any, either... because he had, if only for a brief time due to the distractions and curious things in this house, forgotten he was being hunted.

He was hesitant to answer, worried that confirming this fact would get him thrown out. Tikki was nice, but to get involved in anything like this seemed like too much to ask of anyone.

He didn't know what this 'law' was, but he knew the Aria Corporation was big, and they had a lot of resources. Hell, their damn logo still haunted him whenever he sneaked into town, never truly letting him forget that he wasn't safe.

...It wasn't fair not to tell her, though. To not at least try and warn her about what she was getting into if she let him stay in her home.

Looking conflicted, he finally nodded. Setting aside his disc, he reached down and tried to trace a shape on the rug with his finger, but it wasn't very clear.

Mystic

A long, sad sigh.

"...ok. I figured."

Tikki glances at the rug, leaning to see what he was drawing- but she couldn't make anything out from here. Hm. Maybe he was just doodling from the stress. She did sorta put him on the spot, all of the sudden.

"...well, I'm not going to just let you freeze to death in the snow," she says, frowning. "And whoever uses a kid test subject for scientific experiments is super fucked up, I'll tell you that."

Standing up from the couch, she moves to sit on the rug next to him, scooting a bit closer so she's near enough for expression of comfort, but just at the edge of his personal space. She looks down at the carpet as she talks, idly trying to decipher his finger-drawing on the floor.

"I don't have much to offer, Sticks. I do have a roof, and food, sometimes. I don't make a lot of money, and I'm dealing with my own demons- but I'd still like to help you, somehow. If you want it?"

Spooky

He doesn't seem able to get the tracing of his finger across, so he stops. The best that could be deciphered from it was that he seemed to be writing an 'A' for part of it. If he was trying to make a word, though, the rest of the scrawl was incomprehensible. There didn't seem to be any other letters, and even the A was kind of questionable.

He looked unsure at her offer, not because he was keen on turning his figurative nose up at it though. Moreso, he was worried. She already had stress from turning into the silver beast, and didn't have much money, and... he didn't know what 'demons' were, but that didn't sound good either.

...

But at the same time, he didn't wanna go back to taking his chances in that hole in the ground. Not after he knew what being in a warm house on a soft rug, with not one but TWO blankets was like.

His eyes searched her expression. She really did seem to want to help...

He hugged his pillow close and gave a little nod, before resting his chin on it.

Mystic

He feels more than sees her hand clasp onto his shoulder, squeezing once in reassurance before letting go.

"Okay," she says, offering him a little smile. "I'll do what I can."

Tikki leans back to the couch again, and takes her plate with the half-eaten omelet. She sets it on the carpet and slides it over to him, letting it rest by his knee.

"Here- you can have the rest of mine. I wasn't very hungry, anyway."

A lie. Shifting consumed a lot of calories she had to replenish, which she had every intention of doing so later when he was asleep or something. But right now, she lost her appetite. At least this way the food wouldn't go to waste.

Tikki stands up, stretching her shoulders and wiggling her webbed toes.

"I don't know a lot about you, and that's fine- you don't have to share what you don't want to." Tikki scratches behind her head, starting back towards the kitchen to start cleaning. "Just let me know how I can best help you, alright?"

Spooky

He looked from the offered omelet half to her, before he picked it up with his hand and stuffed it in his mouth, licking the remaining red sauce off his fingers. This had a different taste than his, but was still good!

He didn't seem as keen to get up, covered in fluffy blankets as he was. While he wasn't full, his stomach was no longer empty, and going from being outside in the snow with almost no clothes for most of the day to taking a hot bath and sitting all bundled up next to a roaring fireplace... Sleepiness was definitely setting in, and his eyelids drooped.

He nodded in response to her, rubbing at one of his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Th... thanks," he said, straining to try and be louder since she had walked back to the kitchen. Oof, probably wasn't the best idea. Fuck, he wished he could figure out how to fix his broken voice. It'd been a long time since he'd heard what it sounds like normally, but he knew it wasn't supposed to sound like this.

Mystic

Tikki glances back in his direction at the sound of the voice crack. Ouch. That sounded very unpleasant. Did speaking cause him pain? Maybe his throat was damaged from... whatever happened to him in the 'lab'.

She tried not to think about it. He wasn't there, now.

"It's no trouble," she says, offering another smile as she removes the pan to wash it. "Nobody should have to live on the street- especially not kids."

In the background, Tikki quietly goes about making some hot apple cider. It was just a cheap packet mix, but it was easy, and fast. The water boils gently on the stove while she cleans up the containers of omelet fillings, and puts away all the washed dishes once she'd dried them with a kitchen towel.

She is left to ponder in silence for a while. He'd never seen silverware, didn't know how to feed or take care of himself. Laboratories that tested on humans- at least, he might be human, she really wasn't sure- evidently still existed, and were doing shady shit like turning children into weapons. That was the most she could ascertain from his broken speech and limited information. Whoever was responsible, they were probably out looking for this kid. And if she was caught with him in custody, if she was lucky, she'd be left alone- but he would no doubt be taken back to whatever hell he endured.

She had seen the rocky injuries all over his back. She couldn't begin to comprehend what would cause that. It looked a little better after he was able to bathe, but there was still a substantial amount of rock crust covering his spine. She was hesitant to touch it, or ask about it in case it was sensitive.

Steam hisses from the kettle, and she turns off the stove burner. Water is poured into mugs, and Tikki shakes out the cider mix into the mugs, pouring honey into both. Stirring them with spoons, she walks back out into the living room to check on him.

"I've got hot cider, for your throat," she says, rounding the couch.

Spooky

He looked like he'd gone into almost a kind of sleepy trance, watching the flames dance on the logs...

But he perked back up a little when Tikki returned with- Oh! He'd seen these before, sometimes he would see people at the lab walking or standing around with these little handled cylinders in their hands, usually in the hallways when he was being transported to another area. He never knew what was in them, but they had a nice smell...

These smelled good too, but in a different way. When Tikki handed one over to him, he took it and held it in both hands, peering down at the unfamiliar drink. Unsure how to proceed, he dipped his tongue into it to give it a taste.

Mystic

The immediate taste was sweet, with a hint of spice that wasn't quite the same as the red thing he ate earlier. What did Tikki call it? 'Pepper'? This was different. It was hot, though, and the little bit he managed to swallow off his own tongue actually soothed his aching throat a little, more than water had up until this point.

Tikki, seeing this, chuckles into her own mug that she had just lifted to her face.

"Okay, that was pretty cute," she says, snickering. "And you have a lava tongue?? Weird, and cool. But yeah- you drink it like this."

Tikki demonstrates, holding the mug in her hands up to her chin and tipping it back a little, taking a gulp of the liquid inside before tipping it back down, swallowing with a satisfied exhale.

"It has honey in it, which is a natural remedy for throat problems," she explains, sipping more of her own drink before continuing. "I've had to use it before when shifting damaged my voice for a day or two. Should help, I think. And if it gets too cold, you can always reheat it."

Spooky

He flushed with a faint glow at her comments, but did his best to mimic the demonstration, slowly tipping and attempting a sip with a noisy slurp.

...Holy shit! A way to drink without getting it all over himself! He looked down at the mug with big eyes full of wonder. This was awesome!

He was quick to drink the rest of it down, steam spilling from his mouth when he lowered the mug and exhaled afterwards. The honey coated his throat, making it feel less sore after his attempts to talk. His glowing tongue poked out again, licking his lips.

Mystic

Another chuckle from Tikki.

"I mean this in the best way- you're like a big puppy," she jokes, watching the steam puff up towards her ceiling. "A lanky, fire-breathing puppy."

Sipping her cider, she sighs, getting up from the carpet one last time.

"You look ready to pass out, so I'm going to let you rest. You can use the couch, or stay on the carpet, whatever you feel like- sleep well, Sticks."

And with that, she walks off to the rest of her house, presumably to wind down for the rest of her afternoon. It wasn't far past midday, but she'd had an exhausting morning, and she figured he did as well.

Spooky

His expression briefly turned to confusion as he tried to figure out what a puppy was, but he shrugged it off, setting down the now empty mug. He was very sleepy, and probably would've been content to just sleep next to the fireplace, though without anything to prop him up he kept slowly listing to the side until he'd jerk back upright with a start.

He let out a tired grumble and crawled like a blankety slug across the floor until he was at the couch, where he leaned back against the side of it. It was definitely softer than the dirt had been, and the blankets added extra cushioning. Hugging the pillow close, he curled up and rested his head on it, so cozy that he drifted off in no time.

...

"You really thought you could just leave... Didn't you?"

His eyes shot open at the familiar cold voice of the ponytailed man, Dr. Rainer... but he didn't see him anywhere when he looked around the living room. It was nighttime now and the fireplace had gone out, bathing the room in darkness, and any warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the house along with it.

Then, a red dot appeared in the window. Followed by another, then another, and they continued to multiply until they were peering in through every window, swarming, a buzzing sound reverberating off the walls and leaving him rattled. Drones.

With a smash of glass they set upon him, giving him barely even any time to stand before they were already on him, a writhing mass of buzzing motors and claw arms, reaching and scratching and grabbing. He managed to fight back, blasting them with fire and setting his fists crunching into metal when they got too close, but there were always more to take their place.

"No matter where you scurry off to, you can never truly abandon your purpose. You know that, don't you?"

Metal parts crunched underfoot as he continued to doggedly fight against a neverending onslaught, pouring in through the windows like wasps from a nest.

Suddenly, another piercing pain lanced through the back of his neck, near the base of his skull, his vision blurring and going white for a few moments as he was brought to his hands and knees.

When he opened his eyes again, the drones were gone, and the room was quiet... But as he remained there, trying to catch his breath, he realized something very quickly. He couldn't move.

"Stand."

To his dawning horror, he stood up. Without trying to. His body was moving without his input. His eyes wouldn't even budge when he tried to look around.

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that. Now... Destroy."

NO!

It was too late. Fire sparked and climbed up his limbs, engulfing his body in flames that started to catch on the floor around him. He raised his arms and sent blasts of fireballs careening around him, smashing walls and furniture, anything not annihilated on impact would perish in the blaze... The walls buckled in the inferno. Chunks of ceiling fell. This house was done for, and everyone in it, including Tikki.

And as he distantly heard her screams, he felt...

nothing.

-!!!

Heart hammering in his chest, his eyes opened for real this time and he sat bolt upright with a gasp, prompting a coughing fit. Smoke spiraling out of his mouth, he tried to catch his breath and regain his bearings.

Mystic

The house is quiet. Besides his panting breaths and his heart trying to decide if it wanted to break his ribcage and escape, there was no sound beyond the distant hum of the heater in the walls. The fire- which appeared to have had an extra log placed on it at some point- had burned low until all that was left were charred husks, and a pile of glowing embers. It produced only a faint pop and hiss, along with the lightest aura of remaining warmth.

The house is dark. Just like in his nightmare- but there's no voice to taunt him in the shadows. The windows, which had been an open view out into the world, were covered by thick drawn curtains. Nothing could see inside, not even the searching cameras of the drones he knew were looking for him out in the city. No light is leaking past the borders of those curtains, either. He'd passed out somewhere around noon. Had he slept so long that it was nighttime?

The house is empty. Tikki is nowhere to be seen. A door at the far end of the corridor across the living room is shut. Perhaps she was there, or perhaps she left.

A hand flies quickly to the back of his neck-

-and he feels nothing. No robotic devices, no grasping claw-like limbs, no collar, and no needle stabbing into his skin. All that he finds is... the pre-existing injection site, that had long since healed over.

He was alone with his blankets and his pillow, a dying fire in the fireplace, and the lingering terror of the nightmare.

Spooky

Despite the realization that it had been a bad dream, and that there were no threats in sight, he still felt almost afraid to move for a while. He pulled the blankets up around him like it was a barrier, camouflage to hide him from whatever lurked through his imagination.

Still, he couldn't go back to sleep. Not without making sure everything was okay... So holding the pillow and clutching one of the blankets around him, he got up and checked the perimeter, wandering through the living room and down the hall, peeking in through the doors just to be safe.

Mystic

…So far, everything seemed to be clear.

The kitchen still smelled like the food Tikki made earlier - ‘om-lets’, or something. The burners in the stove were off, and all the dishes had been cleaned and returned to their rightful places.

The living room was the same. The book he picked up still sat haphazardly on the stack when he set it aside. The fire was still dying, the firewood stack neatly piled.

The windows were unshattered; no glass or broken drones littered the floor from his imagined combat. Peeking beyond the curtains showed a gentle fall of snow from the sky, and a dark, starless night filled with clouds.

…

Paying close attention to the house let him notice a few things. The scratches from the driveway were present here, too- they had been spackled and repaired wherever possible, but the signs of wear persisted. Wooden furniture was bent or scored in places, as if something big had clumsily scraped by it. These must be the signs of whenever Tikki transforms against her will, identical to what he found outside. This was a small abode to contain the oversized- whatever it is she turns into.

The door at the end of the hall has the most prominent damage, where the frame is buckled up and outward in a couple places, and the hinges had been repaired multiple times.

What did she say again? ’Shifting outside sucks because she can’t fit through the door,’ or something.

…There’s a faint buzzing sound coming from the door. She was probably asleep, oblivious to his nighttime panic.

Spooky

The sound was sort of like the breathing noises she made while asleep as the silver beast, but smaller... It wasn't like the buzz of drones, this was far less harsh and only happened at intervals instead of continuously. Still, just in case, he listened for a bit, before gathering up the nerve to open the door just a crack and peek inside.

Mystic

The inside of Tikki’s room was also dark, all lights in the room turned off save for a single lamp in the shape of a spiny fish plugged into a wall socket. There were more plants in hanging pots, some with flowers that wafted a sweet scent. A fan overhead spun in a slow circle. Against one wall was a tank full of water, plants, pebbles, and several small fish that flitted about once the light from his eyes was upon them. A filter hummed quietly on the tank, the only other notable sound in the room.

On the bed was Tikki, fast asleep. She was haphazardly wrapped in a thick blanket of her own, and what was visible of her arms and legs was covered in some sort of cloth outfit with more fish stitched onto it. She had a book open next to her on the bed. Thin red lines on the sides of her neck produced the buzzing sound he’d been hearing, every time she breathes. Was that how she snores?

The fish in the tank all swim at once towards the corner nearest the bed, swimming frantically at the tank glass.

Tikki grunts, her snore sputtering as she reaches up and rubs at her face with one hand. Moving to sit up, she looks first towards the tank. A pause, ear fins twitching, before she looks towards the door. The mermaid squints, her eyes reflecting the light from the doorway as she sleepily processes.

��Nghf- Sticks…? I see… your eyes glowing.”

Spooky

The glowing eyes peering from the doorway glance to the side self-consciously and duck behind the door, though after a few moments, one came peeking back into view.

Yeah, she'd seen him, there was no point hiding. The door opened more and he stood in the threshold, huddled in his blanket, his tallness diminished in appearance somewhat by his nervous, slumped posture. He squeezed his pillow underneath his arm.

"S... sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the fish tank filter. "Checking... if safe." The honey must have helped somewhat, that was the most talking he'd managed in one go since they'd met!

Mystic

There's a pause as Tikki's sleepy brain works its way through what he just said.

"Oh..." she mumbles, yawning- and revealing a mouth absolutely full of sharp teeth. "It's... ok, Sticks. It's just you, me, and the guppies... they started yellin' the moment you-" another yawn "-opened the door."

She rubs at her face again, this time with both hands.

"You gonna- be ok...? Can you go back- to sleep...?"

Spooky

Guppies? He looked at the fish in the tank, though he hadn't heard them make any noise, let alone yell. He blinked, but turned his attention back to Tikki.

He nodded, but it was clear by how he was carrying himself that he was hesitant to go back to sleep. He was still tired, but fear had put him in a state of alertness despite that. Backing up from the door, he turned to go back down the hall. Maybe if he couldn't sleep, he could at least keep watch...

Mystic

"Wait."

Tikki grunts, scooting to the edge of her bed and rolling her legs over the side. She adjusts the sleeves of her colorful cloth attire, and digs around in her blankets. She removes something lumpy and plush from the bundle of blankets, standing up to approach the door.

"Here," Tikki says, holding out the object to him. "Holding this helped me relax when I first started living on land instead of the sea."

It was a stuffed lizard of some sort, but it had tiny plush spines on its back and a little pair of plush wings. Fabric fangs poked out of a sewn mouth underneath tiny black bead eyes.

"His name is Slithers. Maybe he'll help you feel safe, too."

Spooky

His glowing eyes blinked in the dark like two half-covered spotlights as he picked up the little soft... creature? He didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem to be alive. It appeared to be made out of the same kind of soft stuff the pillow was. The fabric that made up its plush hide had some kind of a spotted pattern that glimmered in the light of his eyes, like scales. Whatever this fake creature was, its appearance was endearing, and he smiled a little despite his anxiety.

He nestled it between the pillow and his body and gave a little nod to Tikki in thanks.

As he made his way back to the couch, he thought about what Tikki had said. She used to live in the sea... But what was that, exactly? A different town? He wondered how often she had to move. She had to hide too, right? If people found him scary to look at, they would absolutely find the silver beast to be scarier...

Getting to the couch, he took another look around the room. Still all clear. He was about to settle back down where he'd been before, when he stopped, noticing how his hand sunk down on the cushion of the couch when he started to kneel down on the rug. His eyes widened, and he squished the cushion with his hand.

This thing had pillows on it!

He got back up, and almost as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to do this or not, he cautiously sat on the couch instead, curling up in the crook of the couch's arm. It felt like he had more defenses this way, being in a corner- and it was a very soft and squishy corner. It was like he was gonna sink into it, but he didn't- not enough to be alarming, anyway. This was a good spot...

Snuggling down in the blankets all curled up and hugging his legs, with the pillow and plush sandwiched between the front of his torso and the back of his thighs, he sat there in quiet comfort until he finally began to doze off again...

Mystic

...This time, he's unbothered by nightmares, or even dreams. The comforting blackness of exhaustion envelops him, and for now, he's allowed to sleep in the peaceful silence of nothingness.

~*~

Previous | Chapter Index | Next

New reader? You can start here!

#stickman #stickmanoc #stickman oc #mermaid oc #merperson #lab experiment oc #writing #original fiction #cosmic fiasco #cosmic fiasco cryptids #fedoraspooky #mysticdoodles

59 notes · View notes