#I need someone to give me some leek and potato soup

[signedeclipse]

Your requests are open, it's a blessing! i have one and even though i have read this HC before (even i wrote one) i would like to see it in your writing style ✨ so could you do some headcanons of Gyutaro x sick fem reader pls? How would he treat her, would he take care of her and if he would know how to take care of her or would he explode desperate and irritated by how weak humans are? I had a flu and now I have a cough and a little fever so reading this will be a good medicine lol

Thx hun! Hope everything's ok with u ily 💖

Gyutaro [X Reader]

In which Gyutaro tries his hand at caring for his sick s/o.

For the first few days of your sickness you probably play it off and try to keep yourself in your typical routine because it would be a shame if things got put off for longer

Besides, Gyutaro never faltered and he had far worse issues

Collapsing from exhaustion was the last thing on your to do list, though, as unpredictable as it had been

Of course he isn't very happy with you

The demon is steaming that you never trusted him enough to tell him- even if you tell him it wasn't trust- and lectures you on how frail and stupid humans are

"You need to tell me, you need to rely on me!"

Goes on a spew about how his entire job is to care for you because by god how could you live without him!!

Just lay back in bed and tell him what you want, consider it done

Sun is good for someone healing, and fresh air, so he will make the exception and open the window by your bed during the day but he won't go anywhere near you till night

Refuses to cuddle you though because he smells like blood and ick and he is so worried you will get sick because of it

Cannot cook for shit and hates the smell of food so don't expect him to cook...but Daki heard you were sick and left the potato leek soup and sides prepared for her in one of the houses, not like she eats any of it anyways

Would try to spoon feed you it but it makes him sad being close to you and seeing how weak you are so he just gives you a straw and makes a makeshift bed table stand thing so you can feed yourself

Unfortunately he can't get medicine so easily, not in a place like this, but he'll do everything else

Don't want to get out of bed? That's fine, he'll use a bowl of soapy water and a rag to clean you up

Want your hair washed? Listen a bowl of soapy water can do a lot if you add a cup to it

Can't eat solids? Will use his goddamn teeth and nails to shred anything up for you to enjoy

Don't expect a day of work, he will make sure you don't forget how much he needs you you need him

Authors Note - With how long this took me im hoping you aren't sick anymore </3 Even so heres some medicine just in case!

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Azul Ashengrotto of Royal Sword Academy || Chapter 4: What Lurks Beneath a Smile

Summary

Azul visits NRC and meets some of the people close to Jamil, who are understandably curious whether they’re dating or not.

In the middle of their hangout, Jamil learns of Azul’s burdens as an RSA student, as Rielle’s friend, and the dire danger that comes with them.

Word Count: 18, 487

A few days later, Jamil is making a meal for himself in the school kitchen. Normally he’d be doing it at Scarabia, but some of the freshmen are currently using the kitchen there. He doesn’t mind, it’ll be good if more of his residents develop an interest in cooking; he’d have more help in preparing their meals.

Ruggie was already there when Jamil arrived, and they've been chatting for a while like they usually do whenever they run into each other here.

But Ruggie doesn't have his usual energy tonight, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t wanna return to Savanaclaw even though it’s getting late already.

Jamil has a pretty good idea why, but he’s not sure what to say, or if he should even say anything. Maybe Ruggie would prefer not to talk about it at all, especially since Jamil wasn’t even there when it happened. All his knowledge of it came from stories he heard floating around.

"You can go ahead, Jamil," Ruggie says when he sees that Jamil has finished cooking. "You can eat over there at the table, I'll clean up here."

"You sure?" Jamil asks, glancing down at the bandages on Ruggie's arm.

Jamil had an injury too, a few weeks back. Cut his own hand while cooking on a night just like this, only for him to find out that it had been Ruggie's Signature Spell to disable him before their interdorm Spelldrive tournament.

But even then, he healed up. In contrast, Ruggie's injury, whatever it was, continued to persist well past all other scrapes and bruises he got during the day of the tournament proper.

"Yeah, man," Ruggie says. "I got this. You can start eatin'. I'll join you in a bit."

Ruggie speaks with his usual light tone, but Jamil can see that he can't use his injured arm as well as the other one, and his eyes are a little glazed and distracted.

Jamil sighs. "As if I'd be comfortable eating while someone else is still doing the work. If you don't want me to sit and watch you, you might as well let me help. You can pay me back by giving me a portion of your food…" He squints at the ingredients. "What're you trying to make here?"

"A'right, fine," Ruggie says. "And I'm just making potato and leek soup." He glances at Jamil's dish. "What did you make?"

"Found some black sea bass from the freezer unit and cooked it with some radishes," he shrugs like it was no big deal. "Decided to try something new while the freshmen are busying themselves with Scarabia's kitchen. Meanwhile, how're the other Savanaclaws gonna survive without your cooking? Leaving your lil' cubs out to starve for the night?" he then teases.

"Jack volunteered," Ruggie says. "He said he'll ask the others to help, too. He and Yuu insisted that I take a break. That lil' Ramshackle runt can be persuasive, y'know? Hand me that spatula," he points to the utensils hanging on hooks.

Jamil did just that, also bringing in any other utensils he knows Ruggie would need for the soup.

As he does so, he hums. "Never thought I'd see the day when Ruggie of all people decides to take a break. Even when we were freshmen, you were already hopping on whatever gig or scheme you could lay your hands on for money's sake."

That was, until Leona came along and he and Ruggie promptly began a give-and-take dynamic. But he feels that it would be inappropriate to bring him up, if the recent rumors of what happened before the tournament were true.

"How have you been coping so far? As someone who had a whole year to adjust, it takes a while to get used to."

"It's been okay," Ruggie shrugs. "Even with my work at Savanaclaw, I still got time to get extra gigs here and there. Sweepin' the stables, weeding the gardens, stuff like that. Oh, by the way, I was looking for you the other day to ask about a recipe, but your Vice Prefect said you'd gone out to buy an outfit for the Autumn Dance. You were out for like the whole day, didja have trouble finding an affordable suit? I can hook you up to some of the clothing stores I know."

"... No need," Jamil coolly replies. "I already got what I was looking for and I doubt I'd need to buy a new set of clothes anytime soon. If I ever do, though, I'll let you know." Though he knows that such advice often comes with a price when it's from Ruggie. "So? What's the recipe you needed help with?"

"Do ya know how to make vegetable dishes tasty?" Ruggie asks. "We have a greenhouse and some gardens here so it's much cheaper to mix vegetables and meat in dishes, but the cubs at Savanaclaw are extremely picky and we always have leftovers that go bad if I try."

Ruggie puts his soup in a bowl and grabs a spoon. "C'mon," he jerks his head towards the table and walks over to it.

As they make their way over to the table, with the ghost chefs tilting their heads at them in greeting as they pass by, Jamil starts informing Ruggie about taking out the bitter taste in vegetables (that's most likely why many of the meat-loving Savanaclaws are averse to them) using the right seasoning, like salt or oil and avoiding cooking methods like boiling when he could roast or stir-fry them instead.

"And you can try mixing them with meat in a way where it's impossible for the others to completely take them out," Jamil cunningly smiles. "Like meatballs, omelettes, pies, cookies… The possibilities are endless. Plus, I'm sure once they've figured out the hidden veggies, they wouldn't complain on account of how tasty you'd make them."

Ruggie snickers. "I knew I could rely on ya. If you need anythin' just let me know!"

Jamil's phone on the table lights up from a text.

Ruggie's gaze falls on the name on the screen and he raises his eyebrow.

"Piano Man?" Ruggie says, downing a spoonful of soup. "Why's a piano guy texting you at this hour?"

Jamil gives Ruggie a small look of warning as he takes his phone. "Good news: I thought of how you're gonna pay me back for my advice. Forget you ever saw that."

Ruggie narrows his eyes in suspicion, then he snickers. "A'right, you can keep your mystery piano man a secret."

Jamil leans back in his seat and reads Azul's message.

Jamil's eyes widen a little in surprise, then they soften.

And with that, he turns his phone off and goes back to his meal, knowing that more time spent texting meant more time getting stared at by Ruggie.

"Anyway," he clears his throat. "What are your plans for the upcoming dance? Would attending it be considered part of your break, too?"

Ruggie stares at his reaction suspiciously for a few seconds, but luckily he lets it go.

"There's free food, Jamil, of course I'm going to the dance! I ain't got beef with RSA, anyway, like you and the others. Bet they got all types'a fancy food, and I don't have to prepare any of it!" Ruggie snickers. "I'm a lil' surprised you're attending, though. Never figured you for one who's into those fancy events."

"Fair enough," Jamil shrugs. "I don't have much beef with RSA either, save for that quiz bee, but that's water under the bridge. I figured it'd be a waste to skip out on a celebration when I intend to live my days here to the fullest however possible. Besides, I'm used to those parties so I'm not averse to them. It'd be interesting to see what an RSA party is like and how it compares to ours. I heard even Idia Shroud might be coming. If you're going to be surprised about anybody, be surprised about him."

"Whoa, Idia Shroud?" Ruggie's eyes widen. "Now that's a rare sight to see. I've been here two years and I think I've only seen him like three times. And hey, look at you bein' mature about that quiz bee! I still hear some guys being salty about it, grumblin' about how that Azul Whatshisface stole victory from us. As if they did any work," Ruggie scoffs.

"I know," Jamil smirks in amusement. "I pity them for not having better things to do with their time… What would you have done, if you had lost like I did?"

"Woulda eaten like two dozen donuts to make myself feel better," Ruggie says immediately. "What did you do? I was gonna ask you to hang out after the confetti but ya disappeared. Ya didn't sneak off and kill Azul, didja?" he snickers.

"Hm-hm, who knows?" was all Jamil replies with, slyly taking another bite from his meal. "Also, I wouldn't exactly call you mature, either, considering how you… yanno… " he gestures to his hand, where a faint scar can be seen. "... The lengths you were willing to go to keep me off the field 'cause you perceived me as a threat."

Ruggie's smirk melts off his face, and he looks down at his bowl that was almost empty.

"Yeah… Sorry about that…" he mutters. Then he looks up at Jamil again with a humorous smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was a real asshole, wasn't I? Not gonna happen again."

He takes his bowl in both hands and downs the remaining soup in one gulp.

"I'm gonna clean up," Ruggie stands up and claps Jamil on the shoulder, then makes his way to the sink.

Jamil watches Ruggie rise and walk to the sink, quiet. He knew he had to get to the conversation somehow.

"... Will you be heading back to your dorm after this? Or do you have other places to sleep in for the night?"

Ruggie starts washing the dishes and takes his time answering.

"I dunno yet," he mumbles as the faucet runs. "I'll decide later."

Jamil finishes his food and moves to the sink.

If he and Ruggie are similar in nature, then Jamil knows Ruggie is going to hate this... but maybe not as much as he would believe.

Color him blasphemous but from recent experiences, talking things out haven't been as bad as he thought.

He settles on the space next to the hyena, voice quiet and sincere. "What happened? Back before the tournament began."

Ruggie purses his lips and doesn't look at him.

"What do you already know?" he asks quietly.

"Other than the fact that all the 'accidents' leading up to it had been a dorm-wide scheme, none," Jamil replies. "I've been hearing rumors but I don't like paying them much heed."

He glances at Ruggie and his arm. "... I can try to guess, though."

Ruggie casts a sideways glance at him, quietly waiting for him to continue.

"Out of all the rumors, one stayed too consistent to simply be baseless speculation." Jamil quietly explains. "Leona, he... The delinquent drove himself into an Overblot."

He gestures to Ruggie's injury. "I'm guessing he did something to you in the heat of the moment, something even harsher than a normal spell or attack, otherwise you'd have healed already."

Ruggie's lower lip trembles, but he bites down on it and nods.

"His…" his voice breaks and he clears his throat. "His Signature Spell. He can turn anything to sand. And when he was… Overblotting… the bastard started monologuing about how he didn't need me and shit, and, well… at some point he kinda tried to kill me," Ruggie lifts his injured arm. "So…"

Jamil winces. "Seriously? Bastard... as if he doesn't know who's been making his life easy around here..."

He looks closely at the bandages and frowns at a realization. Ruggie has never let injuries get the best of him before.

"Something tells me that the injury doesn't hurt you as much as what Leona said." He muses. "You wouldn't have avoided talking about him since then if it hadn't. After all, the other Savanaclaws were there when he Overblotted, but they're being as chummy with him as ever after it's all said and done."

Ruggie finishes washing the dishes and dries his hands on a towel. He leans against the sink and crosses his arms.

"I stayed until after I was sure he's recovered enough," Ruggie says quietly. "But after that… Well, an errand boy's always busy doing work around the campus. And Leona had never been good at starting conversations even when people aren't avoiding him…" Ruggie laughs bitterly. "So we're here. Well, I'm here. I don't care where he is…"

"And you don't have to. If he doesn't wanna talk, then he can have it his way." Jamil huffed. "... If you need a place to stay, we've got spare rooms in Scarabia. I know you don't want to seem like you're running away, but sometimes that distance is needed. You can take it from me."

Ruggie nods. "Thanks, Jamil. I… I think I wanna talk, though…" his voice fades so quietly that Jamil had to strain to hear it. Ruggie chuckles mirthlessly again. "Stupid, right? Guy almost disintegrates my arm and I still care so much about him…"

He takes a shaky breath, and continues speaking in a whisper. "He was in so much pain, Jamil… I don't ever wanna see him like that again. But I don't… I don't know how…" his voice breaks and he shuts his eyes tight.

Jamil's face becomes indecipherable as his brows furrow, then slowly and almost hesitantly, his arm reaches out to give Ruggie a side-hug, glancing around to make sure no one else is snooping in on them before looking back at the hyena.

"It's... good that you wanna talk to him after everything, but if he's not ready then it's not up to you to do everything for him. Give him time, and while you do that, go do some stuff for your sake. Sevens know you deserve it… Honestly, I didn't realize you guys had gotten so close. I was there when you first met him and man, you both looked like you were about to tear each other's throats out. I still remember how you freaked out when he first summoned you to his room."

In an attempt to lighten the mood, he makes an effort to mimic Ruggie's voice. "'He's gonna kill me, I just know it, Jamil. When I disappear from class the next day, you have to come looking for my corpse, okay!?'"

A small laugh bursts out of Ruggie, and he sniffles, opening his eyes again. "I can't believe you remember that." He sighs. "It feels like a lifetime ago."

Ruggie stays quiet for a few moments, then playfully elbows Jamil. "And I didn't realize that you were so down for dramatic talks. When did that happen?"

"I could ask the same about you," Jamil shoots back at him. "I was half-expecting you to put up a fight before admitting anything close to what you told me... Guess I found that those talks hadn't been so bad once the icky part of being all vulnerable is said and done."

Ruggie shrugs. "I guess I'd been wanting to talk about it to someone. And you're the one who asked so I figured it'll be your fault if I ever said anything you didn't wanna hear. Besides, if you blab about this to anyone, I can always get you back by telling everyone about your secret piano man text pal."

Jamil narrows his eyes at him. "Be careful. Spreading his presence might bring his wrath down upon you, not mine." He says this without malice, then chuckles as he shakes his head. "Your secret's safe with me. What're you feeling now?"

Ruggie sniffles and rubs his eyes, grinning. "I feel like I can sleep peacefully in Savanaclaw tonight. Thanks, Jamil, really. Enjoy the half day tomorrow."

Ruggie claps him on the back and starts to walk away.

"No prob, Rug. Enjoy the half day tomorrow yourself," Jamil smiles at him, then moves to finish his dishes by the sink.

The miracle of a talk is astounding, frankly.

Jamil adjusts his backpack on his shoulders as he enters the Scarabia lounge. Classes had finished and he's on his way to his room, then a voice he never expected to hear in this place calls his name.

"Jamil!"

He turns around in time to get tackled by a lanky young girl.

Najma lets him go from the embrace and smiles cheekily at him. "Betcha didn't see that coming, huh?"

Jamil blinks wildly down at her before his jaw drops.

"N-Najma!? What the— What are you DOING here!?"

He puts his hands on her cheeks and inspects her from head to toe, wondering if it's a trick or a trap.

"Hey!" Najma playfully swats his hands away. "Our school has a field trip here today, one of the most prestigious colleges, y'know? I didn't tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. So, surprise!"

Najma grins up at him.

"A fieldtrip?" Jamil asks, finding it almost hard to believe but there was no other explanation for why she could be here out of nowhere. "Then… what are you doing here away from your schoolmates?!"

"Relax!" Najma chides. "I asked our teacher for permission to swing by here! She knows you're my brother so she allowed me. I gotta get back to them now, though. But later we'll be given free reign as long as we won't be wandering alone! Catch you then?"

"I... suppose, though if you're expecting a tour guide around the school, you'll have to ask someone else. I'm heading out later to the town at the base of the mountain."

"Oh, why? Whatcha doing?"

"I'm gonna be meeting up with someone there." Jamil replies vaguely, already dreading having his little sister pry more information out of him.

Najma narrows her eyes at him and slowly nods. "Okay, okay, if you say so…"

Then she gives him a quick hug again. "See you later!" And she runs off.

Jamil, still awkward around physical affection (despite all his years growing up with Kalim), stood stiff as Najma hugged him.

He watches her leave, then checks his watch before texting Azul.

His phone lights up about a minute later as he's making his way to his room.

Nearing the cafeteria, he notices that the students suddenly hush around him.

He looks around curiously and sees that Azul is walking towards the entrance. He's wearing a light blue long-sleeved button up shirt and black slacks, but it seems like the students still recognize him even without his uniform.

People stare and conversations stop as he goes past. Azul doesn't seem to mind, though. He just keeps walking like he normally does, like he doesn't even notice the other students.

"Hey asshole!"

A sandwich flies through the air and hits Azul square in the chest, splattering meat and tomato sauce all over his white uniform.

He stops walking.

"You got the nerve to show your face here after what ya did?" The thrower steps up to Azul, and Jamil notices the Scarabia band around his arm.

He walks closer and recognizes it as his fellow Second Year, Orfeo, the one who's just barely passing his classes.

The other students seem to take a step back, but the crowd is beginning to thicken.

"I have the Headmage's permission for my visit," Azul says calmly with a polite smile.

Orfeo scoffs. "I don't give a damn if you got the Great Seven's permission. Ya don't belong here. The exit is that way," he points to the direction of the school gate.

"I'm afraid that I have some more business here," Azul says, unfazed. "You'll have to tolerate my presence for a little while longer."

Orfeo takes out his Magic Pen and points it threateningly at Azul's face. "Get out."

Faster than Jamil can react, Azul grabs Orfeo's wrist and twists his arm behind his back.

"I will," Azul continues in his calm tone, standing behind Orfeo. "Just give me a few minutes, my friend."

"Ohhhh…!" say a few of the students, some wincing at the smooth takedown while others watch in amazement.

Jamil sighs, walking forward and proceeding to separate the both of them.

He sharply turns to the fellow Scarabia before him. "What the hell do you think you're doing? RSA or not, assaulting a visitor that the Headmage himself acknowledged is grounds for suspension. What if the younger students from the Scalding Sands saw this behavior while they're in the middle of their tour?" He crosses his arms, stern. "Apologize."

His resident looks baffled at his remarks.

"B-But Prefect, this is the guy that stole your win, right? Why are you taking his side?"

"Because I'm not a petulant child who throws a tantrum over what's already happened," he replies, then remembers that he sorta did have a tantrum. But it at least didn't last very long. "Azul here is an honored guest by the Headmage, me, and Jade Leech. If you have a bone to pick with him, then you have a bone to pick with the three of us. Now, are you gonna run along or am I gonna have to report this to Crowley?"

Orfeo stammers for a bit, looking at him and Azul in turn, then runs away.

Jamil loses the scowl and turns to Azul, noticing the stain on his clothes. He clicks his tongue. "How unfortunate... What a waste of perfectly good food."

Azul raises his eyebrows. "Well, I'm glad you know your priorities."

He looks down at his shirt and a frown creases his forehead.

"I didn't bring a change of clothes," he mutters.

Jamil feigns surprise at seeing Azul. "Oh, it's you."

Then he playfully smiles. "Didn't seem like you needed anyone worrying about you. You looked like you could've gotten it all handled but... Couldn't let you get the entire spotlight now."

He takes out his pen and magics most of the mess away, leaving only a faint red stain.

"Here, so you don't have to run around looking like you just recovered from being shot in the chest." He muttered, taking off his grey blazer and passing it over to him.

Since he still had his hoodie on, he was well-dressed enough even without the extra layer so he didn't mind.

Azul looks surprised, but he takes the blazer and wears it, covering up the stain.

"Thank you," he gives Jamil a small smile, and looks around at the crowd of students still staring at them. More than a handful of them are wide-eyed at Jamil's gesture.

Azul hides it well but Jamil could see in the tension in his shoulders that he's uncomfortable with the attention.

Jamil's pretty tense with it as well, but he knows that no one would interfere with them at this point.

"Let's head somewhere else then, yes?" He tries to look relaxed as he puts his hands in his pockets. "Come on, let's get outta here."

Jamil leads Azul to the corridors outside, then his phone rings in his pocket.

He stops walking, giving Azul a signal to pause for a bit, then takes his phone to see who was contacting him.

Ruggie's name is flashing on the screen.

Jamil raises an eyebrow at this. He looks at Azul.

"Hold on, I have to take this."

He politely walks a few steps forward to answer the call and puts the phone to his ear. "Ruggie?"

"Hey," Ruggie's voice says. "I found your sister."

"Hey, Jamil~!" Najma's voice says from a bit further away.

"Apparently it's their free time now from the tour, and she stopped by the kitchens looking for you. Viper junior here says she wants to help me cook. Wanna hang with us?"

Jamil pauses, contemplating before he looks up at Azul. "A friend of mine's asking if I wanna go cook something with them in the school kitchens. We'll have to go back to the cafeteria to get there, though. Do you have anywhere else you need or wish to go first?"

Azul shakes his head. "No, I'm free for the rest of the day. And cooking with your friends does sound lovely. Is it alright if I help as well?" he smiles.

Jamil's glad Azul doesn't seem so miffed about the cafeteria incident anymore.

"Sure. Come on, then," And he begins to make his way back to the crowded dining area. "Do you cook often?"

“Not as often as I’d like,” Azul says. “If I had the time, I’d open some sort of cafe. But as things stand now, I’m always too busy for such things.”

They pass by the cafeteria again, and Jamil isn’t surprised that the students’ eyes are following them.

What does surprise him is the change in energy. The looks thrown in Azul’s way are less wary and suspicious and more like… fascinated? Some of the students actually smile to their friends when they catch sight of Azul, while others are whispering excitedly among themselves.

Jamil glances around the room, slightly unsettled by the attention. Whether it was positive or negative, he decides any attention still makes him uneasy, so he hurries along to the kitchen doors. As soon as they're inside, he lets out an exhale.

"Well..!" He mutters. "That was unexpected..."

"Indeed," Azul glances back with furrowed eyebrows in the direction they came from. "What was that about? Were they actually smiling?"

"That's what it looked like. But what they were smiling about, I'm not sure…“ He squints at Azul. "They seemed to be looking at you, though. Did you do something in the short time you were there somehow?"

"No," Azul looks even more confused. "After my meeting with Jade, I headed straight for the cafeteria. I never even spoke to anyone else. Perhaps it was you they were smiling at?"

"Eugh, I hope not," Jamil shudders at the thought. “This kind attention from his schoolmates could never lead to anything good. "Whatever. They're not bothering us anymore so that's all that matters in the end, I guess. Anyway..." He glances around the kitchen for any sign of Ruggie and Najma. "... This is the first I've heard of you wanting to own a café."

Azul shrugs. “It’s not like I’m actively working towards it. So there isn’t much to talk about.” He gives his usual polite smile, but Jamil detects the resignation in his tone.

Jamil spots them by one of the stoves. Ruggie seems to be cooking while Najma is sitting on the counter and chatting with him.

He falls quiet. As long as Najma and Ruggie haven't noticed them yet…

His voice dropping low into a quiet mutter, he asks Azul, "Why not? It's what you want to do, right?"

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid,” Azul says, still maintaining the smile. “And why are we being quiet?” He asks and looks around, matching Jamil’s change in volume.

"But why can't it be that simple?" Jamil asks, bothered by this side of Azul.

"Oh! There he is!" Najma greets, noticing them and holding up her hand to wave. Then she pauses. "Huh? Hey, who's that?"

Ruggie looks over to them at Najma's question, and his eyes widen.

"No way," he turns off the stove and walks towards them, then points to Azul. "You're that RSA dude, right? Azul… Something?"

Azul smiles and holds up a hand to Ruggie. "Azul Ashengrotto. Pleased to meet you."

Ruggie looks surprised for a second before shaking Azul's hand. "Uh, yeah. Ruggie Bucchi."

"RSA?" Najma hops off the counter and walks over to them as well, eyeing Azul. Then she turns to Jamil. "Is that your blazer he's wearing?" 

"Someone threw food at him and tomato sauce tends to leave a stain, so…" Jamil answers, crossing his arms. "What have you two been getting up to? And Najma, since when did you know Ruggie of all people?"

“I was looking for you in the kitchen,” Najma replies. “But I found him instead. So I asked him if he knew you, and then he called you and here we are!”

“Wait wait,” Ruggie looks confused. “Since when do you two hang out?”

"Since Floyd forcibly roped me along into a merman reunion," Jamil smoothly replies. "He came here to meet up with Jade over something and now he's free and wanted to cook along. This is the least I could do to make up for one of my members chucking food at him. Any problem with that?"

“Chill out!” Ruggie says, holding his hands up. “I was just asking, dang.”

“Ooh, you’re a merman?” Najma says in fascination. “I’ve never met a merman before! Najma Viper, Mr. Azul, sir!” she sticks out her hand. “That grump over there is my brother,” she nods her head towards Jamil.

Azul chuckles and shakes Najma's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Najma."

"Okay, now that introductions are done, let's go do what we came here to do." Ruggie waves them over to the stove and he continues to stir-fry vegetables.

“What your resident did was out of your control, you know,” Azul tells Jamil pointedly as they walk to join Ruggie. "There is nothing to make up for.”

“Yeah,” Najma looks at Jamil suspiciously. “Who knew you had such a kind soul, brother?”

Jamil seems to cringe at the word. "I wasn't being so kind as much as I was being responsible. I think anyone would do the same in my shoes."

Ruggie shrugs and does a seesaw motion with his hand. "I dunno about that, but sure."

"Speaking of responsible..." Jamil turns to fuss over his sister. "You're lucky it was Ruggie of all people you talked to. What have I told you about approaching random strangers, Najma? If anything bad were to happen to you…"

“It’s fine, Jamil,” Najma punches him playfully on the arm. “I saw Ruggie’s uniform so I knew he was a student and maybe he knew you. Besides, you taught me well on how to defend myself! You don’t need to worry so much.”

“Yeah, man,” Ruggie agrees. “If you’re the one who taught her to fight, then if anyone here chucks food at her, they’ll be no match.” He glances at Azul. "It's a good thing you got time to hang with us, Azul. You're not busy over there at RSA?"

"Not today, no," Azul replies. "We have no classes today since most of us are attending to the Autumn Dance preparations, including the professors. And I've finished my committee duties and piano rehearsals this morning, fortunately.”

Ruggie’s ears perk up and he turns to face Azul. “You play the piano?”

Azul nods. “I was assigned to play a few songs at the dance; the rehearsals are part of my routine.”

“Huh!” Ruggie says exaggeratedly. “Interesting. And uh, has Jamil heard you play?”

“Once, the other day,” Azul smiles at the memory. “He caught me playing a simple song at the department store piano.”

“Huh,” Ruggie says again, subtly smirking at Jamil. No doubt remembering what Jamil said about going out to buy an outfit for the dance. “Cool, cool, good to know.”

Jamil rolls his eyes, aware of where Ruggie had been going with his line of questioning.

"What're you cooking now?" He eyes the vegetables, pretending he hadn't heard all that. "Are these for those cubs of yours?"

"Cubs?" Najma repeats, confused.

“I cook for the residents of my dorm, Savanaclaw,” Ruggie explains. “This dish ain’t for them, though.” he looks at Jamil. “I’m trying out some recipes following your advice the other night, mixing vegetables into meat. Right now I’m making tacos, just a small batch to see if I get the taste right. There’s enough for four people, though, so y’all can have some, too.”

Ruggie mixes in some cooked ground beef with the vegetables and turns to Azul. “You’re helping, right? Line up those taco shells on the tray over there.”

“Oh, of course,” Azul rolls up his sleeves and walks over to the sink a little farther from them to wash his hands.

Najma walks next to Jamil and whispers. “He’s pretty cute. What’s your deal with him?”

Jamil raises an eyebrow at Najma's before quietly gazing at Azul, whispering his own reply. "He's a friend. Why? Also if you're gonna lurk here, you should help out, too."

“I am helping!” Najma whispers. “I was the one who told Ruggie what spices to add in the ground beef. But more importantly, is Azul the friend you said you were meeting in town today?”

"... Well, I thought we'd be going to the town after his errand here but it seems like he's fine with seeing more of this place," Jamil explains. "What of it?"

“He’s wearing your blazer,” Najma says pointedly, as if it should be obvious what she’s talking about. “In all our lives, I have never seen you lend anyone any of your clothes. Ever. And he’s from RSA? As in the rival of your school? You always avoid any source of potential intrigue, and now here you are being besties with an RSA guy. Also you’ve been awfully defensive ever since Ruggie called you out for hanging out with him.”

"Yeah, well…" Jamil started, fumbling over his thoughts to think of something to say and coming up with none. "So?"

A smile appears on Najma's face, and her eyes are practically glowing. "So, he's not just a friend to you, is he? That is so cool!" she excitedly whispers, eyeing Azul who is now currently talking with Ruggie while he arranges the taco shells on a tray lined with wax paper.

"If you want, I can try to find out if he likes you back," Najma adds, leaning towards Jamil conspiratorially.

"What?!" Jamil quietly hisses, feeling warmth rush into his face. "No, you will not! Get back h—"

But Najma has already begun slinking to Azul's other side, pretending to be interested in his work.

“Do you like cooking, Mr. Azul?” Najma asks, standing next to him.

“I do,” Azul smiles. “I grew up watching my mother cook, and I’ve developed a fondness for it.”

“I grew up cooking with my brother! I enjoy it, too!” Najma smiles back. “The dance that you’re preparing for, will you be helping with the catering?”

“I’m part of the committee that decides on the menu, yes, but I won’t be helping with the actual cooking,” Azul says.

“What kinda food would be there?” Ruggie asks with interest. “Is it gonna be a buffet? I gotta prepare my plan of attack.”

“NRC’s invited! That’s great!” Najma says excitedly.

“Indeed,” Azul smiles. “And yes, it will be a buffet. Drinks and desserts included.”

“Aw heck yeah!” Ruggie says and pops a piece of beef into his mouth. “Oh this is almost done. We’ll have tacos in a minute, kids!”

“Looks like Mr. Ruggie’s pretty hyped about the dance. Maybe you should ask him to be your date,” she says jokingly to Azul, watching carefully for his reaction.

Azul chuckles. “Ah, well, your brother has already asked me that. I’m going to the dance with him.”

Najma gasps softly and her eyes widen.

Ruggie dissolves into a coughing fit, almost choking on the food that he had tasted again. He thumps his chest with his fist a few times.

“WHAT!?” He whips around to stare incredulously at Jamil.

Jamil has his hoodie up, finding the kitchen window extremely interesting to watch right now.

"Jamil?" Azul sounds concerned. "Are you all right? I'm sorry, I... I thought it was alright to mention..." his voice fades out uncertainly.

"It's fine," Jamil says, his small voice trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Wow, that windowsill is really clean. Whoever dusted that deserves a reward.

The pan sizzles.

"Oh crap," Ruggie says and turns off the stove. "A'right that's enough about Jamil's love life. Now I need y'all to see if this is good enough for vegetable-hating beastmen."

He quickly finishes preparing the tacos and carries the tray to one of the tables.

"Come along, kids."

Najma tugs Jamil by his shirt and they all follow Ruggie.

Jamil ends up sitting next to Najma and across from Azul. Ruggie is sitting next to Azul and across from Najma.

He hears the crunch of taco shells and looks up to see Ruggie and Najma eating already. He sneaks a glance at Azul.

The merman is doing his best to maintain a posture worthy of an RSA student, but his eyes are cast down on his taco that remains uneaten, his fingers tapping restlessly on the shell.

Jamil, still feeling mighty embarrassed, knew that people were eventually going to find out, anyway.

He was able to break the news to Rielle and Floyd, but that was because they phrased it as a platonic date.

Meanwhile, Najma and Ruggie are both operating under the assumption that he asked Azul out in a romantic way, which isn't the case.

And yet he didn't say so and explain himself. He probably should.

But a part of him doesn't want to because he knew it'd be fruitless to convince Najma and he'd just waste his energy.

... Is that really the reason, though?

After what his little sister said, his brain begins to review the moments and signs around him. Taking a step back and viewing it from an outsider's perspective, he has to admit that he can see where she's coming from.

But does he really like Azul that way?

…

He sighs, then takes off his hood and takes a bite of the taco, chewing slowly to properly taste the flavors.

"Oh I love it," Najma says, halfway through her food. "You have nothing to worry about your cubs now."

She turns to Azul. "What do you think, Mr. Azul?"

"Hm?" Azul looks distractedly at Najma. "Oh." He takes a bite of the taco and chews it carefully.

"You've done a good job incorporating the vegetables in," he says to Ruggie. "The texture and taste complement each other, and the cilantro makes it taste more refreshing and less greasy. Though if I may, if your goal is to persuade your dorm mates to eat anything, then presentation is a significant factor. You can plate this taco with some dipping sauce at the side, perhaps even fruit slices if they aren’t opposed to that. If the dish is visually appealing, it would immediately be appetizing at first look."

Ruggie nods. "Yeah, that makes sense. They teach fine dining classes at RSA or something?"

"They do," Azul replies. "Though I learned most of my food knowledge from my mother. She owns a restaurant and pays extra attention to food presentation."

"Ooh! Can we go there?" Najma asks excitedly.

"Ah, it's underwater, so you will need to take potions beforehand to be able to breathe and survive the pressure," Azul explains. "If you're ever willing to go through that trouble, I'm sure my mother would be happy to welcome you."

"Sounds like a good summer plan," Ruggie snickers.

Najma turns to Jamil and pokes his shoulder. "Hey. Can you speak now? You're okay, right?"

"Mm-hm," Jamil hums, though he finished his taco first before saying anything further. "Tasty as always, Ruggie. I'm not sure if the visuals are too necessary, considering who you're feeding it to. Make it too fancy and your members might find it a bit alienating… and then there are those who won't care either way. They're already familiar with how your food tastes, so it's not like they need visual bait to lure them in."

"Psh, you're just saying that 'cause your meals are always brown and boring," Najma huffs, turning to Ruggie as Jamil opens his mouth in offense. "Don't listen to him. Making food look as good as they taste will get you far, I just know it!"

"Then I declare this a success!" Ruggie says, doing a voice that reminded Jamil of Riddle. "Thanks, guys. Even though it's really just Azul who helped with the actual cooking. You got a good one there, Jamil. Don't let him go."

Najma nods vigorously, chewing on her food.

Azul clears his throat. "I think Jamil is becoming quite uncomfortable with the jokes for now. Perhaps we can pick another topic to discuss, such as Ruggie's exceptional talent in the kitchen. If you have any dish you would like to have at the buffet, let me know and I'll tell the rest of the committee. I'm confident we can trust your judgment."

"I'll hold you to that," Ruggie points at him.

"Does it make you uncomfortable, though, Mr. Azul?" Najma says, undeterred. "When we talk about you and Jamil being each other's date for the Autumn Dance?"

Azul looks caught off-guard by the question. He blinks, then opens his mouth to speak—

"Oh my word!" a familiar voice cuts him off, and Jamil looks up to see Crowley approaching their table. "If it isn't RSA's very own Azul Ashengrotto!"

Azul stands up and graciously holds out a hand, his standard polite smile on his face. "Sir Dire Crowley."

Crowley shakes his hand enthusiastically. "Oh how honored I am to be in the presence of a future member of the Coral Sea's royal court!"

Jamil notices that Azul tenses up at that.

"Huh?" Ruggie says. "Azul?"

"Why, yes!" Crowley turns Azul and holds him by the shoulders as if Crowley's presenting him to them. "You're looking at Prince Rielle Triton's royal advisor!"

Crowley lowers his voice to a conspiratorial mumble. "Because it's too early to say whether you'll be his king, hm?" he chuckles merrily, not waiting for Azul to respond. "But no matter! Whether you'll be king of the oceans or a trusted right-hand man, the important thing is you'll have a seat at the royal court! Isn't that right?" he grins expectantly under his mask.

"Yes, sir," Azul nods with a smile. But Jamil has seen his real smile plenty enough times to notice that this one is strained. His eyes are guarded, his jaw too tense.

Azul's posture is perfect, his back straight and his hands behind him. Jamil could just see from this angle that Azul is gripping his left wrist with his right hand, digging his fingernails in as he smiles in supposed agreement with Crowley.

The royal advisor? Future king?

Jamil recalls the brief conversation he had with Azul about his cafe and how hasty he was to drop it.

All of a sudden, pieces started to click together as he stares at the merman in surprise.

"Royal court?" Najma asks, innocently unaware of the hidden layer of tension. "There's a royal family in the bottom of the ocean?"

"Najma, we've been taught this," Jamil mumbles.

"We have..? Oh, right. I remember now. The Tritons! WAIT! You're associated with royalty, Mister Azul!?"

Ruggie lowly whistles. "Dang, welcome to the club."

Azul nods, his polite smile unwavering. "Yes, Prince Rielle is a childhood friend of mine."

"How wonderful, isn't it?" Crowley says. "Well, I shall leave you all to your meals now. Until next time, Mr. Ashengrotto!" he claps Azul on the back and walks away, his cape fluttering behind him.

"Can you point me to the nearest vending machine?" Azul says to no one in particular, looking around. "The taco was quite flavorful, and I should like a drink to wash it down," he gestures to his plate, and Jamil notices the blood on the tips of his fingernails.

Before Jamil could say anything, Ruggie casually gestures over to the hallway outside. "Oh, take a right as soon as you exit and then as long as you keep on walking, you'll eventually find it in a corner leading to the courtyard."

"Thank you," Azul says. "Oh, do any of you want anything from there? My treat, since you were gracious enough to feed me tacos."

"Ooh, I'd like some milk tea, please!" Najma happily chimed in.

Ruggie wrinkles his nose and waves a languid hand in the air. "Any drink's fine, s'long as I don't have to pay for it."

Jamil did not know what to say as he's still trying to figure out a strategy, so he just shakes his head. "M'good..."

Azul nods. "All right, I shall be right back." he turns and leaves the cafeteria.

"Why did you say 'welcome to the club' earlier to Azul?" Najma asks Ruggie. "Are you associated with royalty?"

Ruggie begins rambling about Leona, and Jamil notices that Ruggie doesn't seem to mind talking about him anymore, but he's too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention.

At some point, Jamil realizes that their chatter has stopped, and he glances up to see them staring at him.

"Well?" Najma asks, lacing her hands under her chin.

"Well what?"

"Are you gonna go and chase after him?"

Jamil squints at her in suspicion. "And why would I do that?"

"Hello? He's set for marriage with a sea prince when YOU have been harboring feelings for him! Are you just gonna let him run away!? Go!"

Jamil scoffs, willing to spite his sister by staying rooted in his seat when he suddenly notices Ruggie's expression.

"You should talk to him," Ruggie gestures with a jerk of his head, looking serious as he taps his nose. "My nose never lies and I smelled metal on his hands when he left. You know something we don't, so go. I think he needs it."

Jamil stares at the hyena before making a nod and standing up to head over to Azul.

"Huh? Wait, what's going on?" Najma asks after she watches her brother leave the room entirely.

"Drama talk, lil' Viper, the hallmark of a true romance," Ruggie grins, slipping back to his easygoing nature.

"Drama talk? My brother!?" Najma remarks, incredulous, before standing up from her seat. "Have you met him, Mister Ruggie!?"

The hyena shrugs. "I know, I know, but take it from me, Jamil ain't that bad at it."

Najma slowly sits back down, looking genuinely doubtful. "Okay... But if they take too long, we're gonna go look for them, alright?"

Jamil goes to the direction of the vending machine that Ruggie mentioned, hoping that Azul really did go there.

He sees him in front of it, hands in his pockets and staring at the machine with an expression too serious for someone who just wants to wash down a taco.

Jamil silently comes up to him, not bothering to hide his presence.

Azul doesn't notice. He's still staring at the glass of the vending machine but not making any movements to purchase anything.

Jamil takes a deep breath.

Then softly, he announces himself. "Hey, you."

Azul gets startled and looks at him. He blinks, and in an instant his posture is proper. That strained smile is plastered on his face again.

"Jamil. Have you changed your mind about the drink? Which one do you want?" Azul looks at the array of options.

"What do I want?"

Jamil leans against the vending machine, hands in his hoodie's pockets as he gives Azul a concerned look.

"I want to hear how you're doing. I can see when you're faking it, you know."

Azul looks conflicted for a moment, then he purses his lips and averts his eyes.

"I'm…" he sighs. "How are you so sure? This is only the fourth time we've even seen each other."

"I know what it's like to put on airs for other people," Jamil replies, then continues more quietly, "Besides, I've gotten to see for myself what a real smile looks like on your face. So…"

Azul meets his gaze, and for a moment there's a glimpse of that real smile.

"There it is," Jamil points out, feeling himself grin, too.

A small laugh bubbles out of Azul, and his shoulders relax. "I think… I just want some time to be… not what everyone expects me to be."

"Then let's do just that," Jamil says encouragingly. "If there's anything NRC's done for me, it's given me the space I needed to do what I wanted to do, so tell me, Azul... What do you desire the most at this very moment?"

Azul furrows his eyebrows in thought, chewing his bottom lip. "I'm not sure, exactly… That sounds bad, doesn't it?" he chuckles softly. "Um… Perhaps I should decide on which drink I want first. And I don't want to keep Ruggie and Najma waiting for theirs."

Jamil shrugs, content to have hopefully at least nudged him in the right direction.

He patiently waits next to the merman as he deals with the machine.

Azul straightens up with four drinks in his arms and hands one to Jamil.

He looks down at the bottle and sees that it's blond roast coffee.

"I remember that it's what you had at the cat café," Azul says. "I thought you might still like it."

"Indeed. My tastes haven't changed since then," Jamil quips. "Thanks. What did you get? Same drink as what you got in the café, too?"

Azul shakes his head. "No, just sparkling water. I don't wanna get something with a lot of calories. Shall we get back to the others?"

Jamil nods. "Let's."

But as soon as they round the corner, they run into Najma and Ruggie, who are trying to look as casual as possible.

"Oh, heeeeeeey, you two!" Najma greets. "We were… uh… just on our way to check up on you! You were taking a while!"

"Ah, my apologies for taking too long," Azul says, handing milk tea to Najma and fruit juice to Ruggie. "Shall we get back inside?"

Jamil squints at the both of them as they receive their drinks, then he relaxes, deciding to let it go for now.

"Actually, why don't we walk around?" he asks Azul and Najma. "Ruggie and I can show you a lot of NRC's facilities that no mere tour guide can provide. What do you two think?"

"That sounds lovely," Azul smiles.

"Oh sure," Najma turns to Ruggie. "He won't be a tour guide for me but when it's for Azul…" she shakes her head and gives Ruggie a look that says, "Can you believe this guy?"

"Ah, young love," Ruggie teases.

Jamil rolls his eyes, ignoring them to walk on ahead.

He leads them out of the main campus building, and as they walk along the steep steps to the lower cliff area, he turns to Azul. "Ah. By the way, what did you and Jade talk about?"

Azul adjusts his glasses. "Jade informed me that he remains the sole member of the Mountain Lovers Club, and he wants to promote it so that more of your schoolmates would be encouraged to join.

I suggested that he put up some sort of shop in Octavinelle, since it would be easier to manage if it's just in his dorm. He mentioned his fondness for mushrooms, and that he could pick them and other various plants when he goes hiking for his club activities. So I proposed that it might be good to cook those mushroom dishes for his dorm mates, perhaps even sell them eventually, and to other students as well if he has the time and manpower for it.

He seemed to like the idea so far, and he said he'd be interested to pursue it and ask for further consultation down the road. I asked him why he didn't just collaborate with his Prefect, especially if it would give funds to their dorm as well. Jade said that his Prefect is too… carefree for his liking."

"... Huh. Interesting," Jamil mutters. This is the first he's ever heard of Jade's own hobbies. It says a lot that he's willing to consult Azul about it of all people. "Guess he went to you for help then because of your business acumen."

Plus there was cooking once more. Azul really likes the idea of setting up a catering business, even if he seems to deny himself of that.

"Do you guys have any Masterchef programs back in RSA?" Jamil asks.

They've gone past the staircase and are now making their way to the windmills and hilly fields to the west of campus.

"We do," Azul replies. "I joined last year because the theme was baking, and it was something that I didn't have much experience with. It required significantly more precision compared to cooking, and it was quite the fun challenge to tackle. How about you? Have you joined any similar programs here?"

Jamil nods, before gesturing to Ruggie as well. "Both of us, though we joined on different themes. I was doing Seafood and Ruggie dealt with Eggs."

"The best part about those programs is the leftovers people make and leave behind," the hyena grins.

"Most of our ingredients are either locally cultivated," Jamil nods to the windmills and the chicken coop nearby. "Or bought from Mr. S's shop."

"Have you been inside Sam's joint, lil' Viper?" Ruggie asks, noticing how she's looking around the area. "Where did yer teacher even tour you around?"

"We went to Mr. S's, yeah," Najma nods. "And before that, our teacher showed us the different areas where club activities happen. We caught the Equestrian Club in their practice, it was so cool! I wanted to see the Board Game Club, too, but they weren't in their classroom earlier."

"Oh hey, I think they might be there now," Ruggie checks his phone for the time. "I was hanging out with Ortho earlier and he said that he had to get back to Idia because Board Game Club activities would be starting. Whaddaya say, fellow tour guide?" he turns to Jamil. "Should we take lil' Viper out to see the Board Game Club?"

Jamil shrugs. "Fine by me. It's Idia who I worry about. Dunno if his heart can take new strangers."

He leads them over straight to the club room, clearly unbothered by the prospect.

When they arrive, the club members are separated into small groups, playing different board games on tables placed around the classroom.

"Greetings!" Ortho zooms in front of them, hovering and waving his hand as a greeting. "I see we have new visitors!"

"Hey, Ortho," Ruggie gives him a high five. "This is Najma, Jamil's lil' sis. And this is Azul, Jamil's… I dunno."

"I have met Azul Ashengrotto, yes!" Ortho nods enthusiastically. "Hello again!"

"Hello again, Ortho Shroud," Azul smiles.

"Oh neat, you know each other," Ruggie says.

"Whoa, are you a robot?" Najma asks in fascination, looking at Ortho up and down.

"You may call me that, yes," Ortho says. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Najma Viper! Is there any board game you'd like to see?"

"Hmm, do you have mancala here?" Najma looks around.

"Searching the web for information about 'mancala'," Ortho stays still while a series of beeps could be heard somewhere from him. "Information acquired! We don't have that exact game, but we have materials we can use as a passable substitution. Shall we proceed?"

"Heck yeah!" Najma runs off with Ortho to one of the vacant tables.

Idia appears, looking down at his tablet. "Hey Ortho, have you seen the—"

He looks up and sees the three of them. "Eep!" he jumps back, putting up his tablet to hide his face. "It's Mr. Jamil and his handsome love interest from the rival school," he mutters. "Why am I in this scene?" He peeks above his tablet to look at Ruggie. "Why did you bring them here?" he says in distress.

"Showing Jamil's handsome love interest around," Ruggie replies. "Careful, Idia. I might think you're the one crushing on our guest here."

Idia shudders. "N-Not a chance. Sparkly guys and gloomy shut-ins like me don't mix. A-Anyway, now that you've seen the club for yourselves, you can go now, right?"

He looks around, spots Ortho and Najma playing, and groans. "You gotta be kidding me. You're staying, and who's THAT?!"

"My sister," Jamil replies. "Her school is conducting a fieldtrip here today."

Idia shrinks into a crouch so that he won't be seen. "A-Ah… I should've figured. You guys got similar-looking f-faces."

"No, we don't," Jamil frowns, confused. "Anyway, looks like we're gonna be here for a while. Hope you don't mind."

"And what if I do?" Idia stammers.

"We'll stay here longer," Ruggie snickers. "Might as well find ourselves something entertaining to do while we're here."

"Is that The Game of Life?" Azul says with interest, pointing to the open board game at a vacant table.

"Y-Yeah," Idia says. "Do you play that?" he asks in a small voice.

"I used to, but it's been a long time." Azul approaches the table. "May I?"

"Huh? Uh, s-sure," Idia says.

Azul picks up the dice and throws them on the board with a flick of his wrist. Each die lands with the six side facing up.

Azul's face brightens as he chuckles. "Still got it."

"Whoa!" Idia hurries towards Azul, forgetting his shyness for a second. "How'd you do that? That's gotta be luck, right?"

Azul just smiles and picks up the dice again. He throws them, and the sides with the six dots are facing up once more.

"NO WAY!" Idia picks up the dice and inspects them. "Did you rig these? What spell is that?"

Azul chuckles and shakes his head. "I used to play this, and there was a time when I practiced how to throw the dice so that they would land with my desired numbers facing up. It took a long time and a lot of math and wrist cramps, but I eventually figured it out," he says proudly.

Idia's jaw drops as he stares at Azul. "That's like, mega-obsessive geek behavior. You played this game a lot?"

Azul nods. "Indeed. Do you like this game as well? Perhaps we can play some time," he smiles at Idia.

Idia falls quiet, and his face goes red and he scurries away, hiding behind Ruggie with his tablet covering the lower half of his face.

"Th-th-there're other games here," he gestures to the other tables. "If you wanna check out any more," his voice fades out and he shrinks behind Ruggie's shoulder.

"Who do you play these dice games with?" Jamil asks Azul, quirking up an eyebrow. "They must feel like quite the unfortunate sap facing against you."

"Rielle," Azul says. "We discovered this game in our freshman year, and I didn't like that I had so little control over the outcome of the dice. He said that it really is up to chance, and I took that as a challenge," he said smugly.

"Like RSA Rielle?" Idia says in surprise, appearing behind Ruggie. "You just casually play board games with the mega-protagonist crown prince?"

"Not anymore," Azul shrugs. "A mega-protagonist crown prince does get busy with princely duties, and I haven't had much free time as well."

"Then consider this a good opportunity to let loose before it's back to busywork," says Ruggie. "Knowing that the chance and dice games can be rigged crosses them outta the list, what sort of board games do you like to play?"

"Hmm," Azul hums thoughtfully. "I like Clue. And Monopoly. Though both games take a long time to play. How about you two?" he looks at Ruggie and Jamil.

"Eh," Ruggie shrugs. "Board games don't really fill my pocket with pay so I don't really dabble on 'em. I heard some really old ones can fetch ya a pretty penny, though!" His eyes begin to roam the club's belongings with greedy interest.

"Ahem," Jamil gives the hyena a pointed look before glancing back at Azul. "Playing either sounds fine with me. Just so you know, I'm not gonna lose so easily."

A smile pulls at the corner of Azul's lips. "Good, it wouldn't be fun otherwise."

"Ugh," Ruggie makes a disgusted sound. "You two don't mind if I don't join you, right? I don't need to be around all this unresolved sexual tension," he gestures with his hands as if indicating something in the air.

"What are you gonna do, then?" Jamil asks. "Those games work better with more people."

Ruggie shrugs. "I dunno. I'll roam around and see if any game interests me."

He walks away and begins looking at the different games that the club members are playing.

"I've never played mancala before," Azul offers. "From what Najma and Ortho are doing, it looks like it only needs two people. Would you mind teaching me?"

"Oh. Well, sure, if that's what you want," Jamil replies. "Like Ortho said, we have to find some substitutes for it first."

And so they do, cobbling up "shells" with the use of dice and bowls after getting (reluctant) permission from Idia.

From there, Jamil lays down the ground rules and the objective of the game, teaching Azul with a calm demeanor and a small demonstration.

Azul understands the game well enough, and they start playing. As he's moving the makeshift shells around the board, his sleeve hikes up a little and reveals the crescent cuts on his wrist from his fingernails. He notices it—Jamil could tell from how he paused for the briefest second and his eyes widened—and smoothly switches the pieces to his right hand and continues his turn. But that only revealed his blood-tipped fingernails, though the amount of blood was little enough that he doesn't seem to know it was there.

"Have you played this game a lot with your sister?" Azul asks casually.

Jamil goes to tear his gaze away from Azul's hand and musters an answer, voice a little tense.

"Right, um… We'd play every once in a while, but then she'd get fed up with losing all the time and find another game that I'd be unfamiliar with or come up with extra rules in the hopes of giving me a handicap."

From nearby, Najma can be heard yelling out in defeat. "I should've known better than to challenge a robot in a game of strategy!"

"Seriously, what is the appeal of this thing?" Ruggie says, sidling up to a pair of students who were engaging in a battle of chess. "I keep getting roped in to play this only to get my ass beat. Oh shit, your horse is vulnerable to that bishop over there."

"Hey! No backseating!" one of the chess players snarl.

"And it's a knight, not a horse!"

"It's a piece in the shape of a horse, what's it matter?" Ruggie scoffs.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Jamil feels tense as he plays the game with Azul at a quiet pace.

Then, as the merman's fingers cross over to Jamil's side in the middle of his turn, Jamil reaches out and gently takes Azul's hand, bringing his blood-tipped nails under close scrutiny.

His expression is contemplative, before he glances up to meet Azul's gaze and quietly asks, "How're you holding up now?"

Azul tenses up when he realizes what Jamil has been looking at on his fingernails.

He averts his eyes for a moment before meeting Jamil's again with a small smile. "Better now, thank you. I didn't realize I'd…" he nods to his fingernails. "I wasn't aware… Does everyone else know?" he asks quietly.

Jamil's thumb lightly brushes against Azul's knuckle. "Only Ruggie. Can't disguise the smell of blood against a beastman, after all… Are you worried he or I would tell anyone?"

Azul lightly shakes his head. "I’m not. It's just, apart from Rielle, no one has really seen me be… vulnerable like this. I'm not entirely sure how to act… Or how to feel."

"... What are you unsure about?" Jamil asks, trying to be careful in his questions as he lets go of Azul's hand to resume play. He looks around to make sure no one had noticed them pausing and whispering to each other.

Azul takes a breath and continues playing, speaking quietly. "If people's perception of me changed, if they think that I'm not as strong or put-together as they first thought… what then? Will their treatment of me change? And if it does, what do I do?" He sighs. "Anyway, we don't have to talk about it. I appreciate you listening.”

Jamil waits until Azul has finished his turn before starting his. "And... I'll be happy to keep listening. If everything on the other side of this island is becoming too much to bear, you can always find me here. But if you want my two cents on the matter, if people think negatively of you just because you want to be yourself, without the title of advisor or future king or RSA student…"

Jamil finishes the last move of his turn, steady and sure. "... Then those people are not worth keeping around."

Azul pauses and stares at him for a moment, then he nods and looks down at the game as he takes his turn.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Azul gets quiet for a few moments, then adds in a lighter tone, "You know, Jamil, it seems like you're always the one listening to my woes and offering to help. I'd feel more comfortable if I could do something for you in return. So if there's anything you need help with, just let me know," he meets Jamil's gaze.

Jamil tilts his head. "I think you've already been doing plenty of helping on your part. You listened to me just like this the previous times we hung out, so if anything, I'm just following your example. But hey…" He grins. "I'll keep your offer in mind. Here's an idea, if everyone keeps bothering you with expectations over there, just do what I did: go to NRC. Maybe it's not too late for a transfer."

Azul looks surprised, then he blinks at Jamil. "Hm, I'd never considered that before. Although," he smiles in amusement, "some of your schoolmates might be opposed to that idea. I'd only been here for less than a day and your spritely resident was already trying to kick me out."

"Buuuut let's not forget the way people reacted when we came back to the cafeteria," Jamil reminds him. "Whatever happened there, I have it on good assumption that they're not gonna try anything funny again for a while. Come on… You can set up your own catering lounge here and everything, give the cafeteria a run for its money."

Azul stares at Jamil, then he says playfully, "When we first came up on that stage and did the obligatory handshake at the start of the quiz, with your death grip and hardened expression, I never would have thought that you'll be persuading me to spend more time in your vicinity."

"What can I say? You're pretty good at changing minds, Ashengrotto," Jamil chuckles. "And if you can sway us stubborn fools here in NRC, maybe the same can be done for the rest of the people you surround yourself with."

Azul raises his eyebrows and lets out a laugh of disbelief. "And how ever did I change your mind? Did you like the beach cove that much?"

"It was during the cat café that I began to see you in a different light. It's true that you're more pleasant and nicer than the company I keep," Jamil gestures with his head to the situation behind Azul, where Ruggie's running from the chess players after popping a piece in his mouth out of spite, while Idia is crouching under a desk to hide and Ortho's ignoring the ruckus to play a luck-based game with Najma instead. "But I've begun to think that that may not be a bad thing."

He shoots Azul a playful narrowed glare. "Ah, but I still got a reputation to keep here, so they're free to think whatever they like about you and I hanging out together as long as you don't spill how sappy I get when talking with you."

Azul looks down and laughs, his cheeks becoming a bit pink. He clears his throat and looks at Jamil.

"And what reputation is that, Viper? Are you supposed to be an aloof and mysterious figure here?"

"Hah, pretty much. Also clever and capable and composed, but unfortunately, I feel like you've already seen past all of it," Jamil snickers, then glances down at the board, now emptied except for both far ends. "In the meantime, at least you haven't beaten me in this just yet."

"You are clever and capable and composed," Azul says, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think people would stop seeing you that way, no matter who you hang out with."

"But they also think I'm constantly ready to stab someone in the gut if they go so far as to look at me wrong, which I'm perfectly okay with, and yet…" Jamil leans back in his seat, too. "It's gonna be hard maintaining that reputation when your… energy is infectious. When you smile... really smile… how can I not smile along? Now I still haven't decided if it's a virus RSA students carry or… if it's just you bringing that out of me."

Surprise is evident in Azul's eyes, and he's blushing even brighter. He looks down and chuckles shyly. "So you… You really don't mind that people know about us… hanging out?" He looks at Jamil again, and Jamil senses in his tone that he was going to say something other than 'hanging out'.

Jamil's gaze softens. "I had to wrap my head around it for a bit when my own family member started joking around, but… No. No, I don't mind at all." 

"Sevens," Idia says in the distance, utterly baffled and muttering to himself. "They've been staring at each other several minutes after their game has already concluded… Can't be me, fr fr." 

Azul's posture relaxes and he smiles. "I'm glad you don't. Because… I've recently discovered that there is an aviary in town. And I was wondering… Perhaps you'd like to go there with me?"

Jamil blinks at him, shock blooming on his face.

"Huh? Is this… because of the bird thing I mentioned?"

"Yes," Azul smiles sheepishly. "You're not allowed to keep a pet bird here so I thought, perhaps we could go to them instead. But, it was just an idea, we don't have to, forget I said anything," he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

"Hey, hey, let's do the forgetting once you've actually heard me reject you now," Jamil jokes, knowing full well he'd say the same thing in Azul's shoes. "And there's no rejections from me here. It's, well... I'm definitely looking forward to it." He smiles, both genuinely excited to see birds yet also embarrassed that Azul even bothered to remember and do something to make him happy.  "But first, what's your reason for continuing to hang out with me?"

Azul raises an eyebrow. "You don't hear me asking such questions. Even when you've been persuading me to move across the island just to be in the same school as you," he says jokingly.

"Whoa, I didn't say that just because I want to be with you. I was also suggesting it for your own personal interests," Jamil defends, only to realize a moment later that he had just admitted that he wants Azul to transfer to spend more time with him.

Jamil clears his throat. "Besides, I think I already told you that I enjoy your company, so going along with invites like these feels natural, doesn't it?"

"... It does," Azul holds his gaze. "And… I want to keep hanging out with you because…" he shrugs lightly. "You make me really happy. You say that you smile when I smile genuinely, but… you should know that just being with you is enough to make that happen. And I really like seeing your smile, too. It suits you."

…

Jamil tries to keep that steady reassured look on his face, but his darkening cheeks and his fingers itching for his hood gives much away.

"Okay, srsly, guys, no PDA allowed in the Board Game Clubroom. What are you trying to do? Rub it in our faces?" Idia groans, though he's still doing nothing to physically put an end to it. "Also can someone kick Sir Ruggie out already before he starts eating up our game pieces?"

"I'm on it, brother!" Ortho salutes, hovering up and pausing at Azul and Jamil's side. "Will you two be accompanying Mister Ruggie and Miss Najma in their departure?"

"Oh, we could, yes," Azul says. "We've completed our game, after all." He looks at Jamil. "Shall we go with them?"

Jamil nods and begins to stand. "All right, let's."

He glances out to the windows. "Are you needed back at RSA anytime soon?"

Azul shakes his head. "No. I have until 5 PM until I need to go back. How about you? Do you have any plans since today is a half day for you?"

"Nah," Jamil says. "My plans had been to meet up with you, which now evolved into me being an advanced tour guide."

As they exit the room, much to the club members' relief, he then turns to his companions and asks, "So, where do the visitors wanna go next?"

"Can we look at the horses again?" Najma asks excitedly.

"Club activities are prolly done now," Ruggie says. "But we can still go to the stables."

Najma turns to Jamil with a hopeful grin. "Do you think I can ride a horse?"

Jamil gives her a stern look but sighs. "I suppose… if the club leader is still there, then we can try to ask for permission, but no promises."

"You wanna ride horses, lil' Viper?" Ruggie asks, acting more like a friendlier big brother than Jamil does. "What about our RSA buddy over here?"

"I do have some training in horse-riding," Azul adjusts his glasses. "Though I am a tad concerned that I might not be wearing proper riding clothes."

"Don't sweat it, man," Ruggie says. "You're fine. Let's go!"

They continue to walk under the hot afternoon sun, passing by students having picnics, jogging, or making their way to club activities.

Ruggie turns to Jamil as they're nearing the field. "You gonna want a horse, Jamil?"

"I'm not really interested in riding horses," Jamil muttered. "But I can at least be on standby to babysit these two if I have to. How about you?"

"Nah, I'll just be hanging around. Oh look Riddle's here," Ruggie says when they reach the stables. "Hey, Riddle!"

Riddle turns around from brushing his horse. "Ruggie, Jamil. What brings you here?" he glances at their two friends.

"Azul Ashengrotto?" Riddle says in mild surprise, before turning to Najma. "And I'm guessing you are Jamil's relative? I must say you're quite the interesting group," he says to Jamil.

Jamil eyes Riddle, noting his calmer demeanor compared to how he normally had been until recently.

He had always wondered how that came to be. There were rumors about it, too, but... nothing concrete.

"Hello, Riddle," Jamil greeted. "My sister and Azul are here to visit and, well... I apologize for the trouble, but—"

Najma hops up the fence a little to take a closer look at the horses, starry-eyed. "Can I ride on one of these things, Mister Riddle?"

"I do have the authority to grant you permission, but…" he furrows his eyebrows in thought then looks at all of them. "Do you all want to ride a horse? Do any of you have any experience or training at all?"

"I ain't riding, don't worry," Ruggie says. "Just here to chaperone, sir."

"I've had some experience in Knight Class," Azul says.

"Night class?" Ruggie asks in confusion. "Your evening classes teach you horse-riding?"

"Not 'night' as in 'evening'," Riddle frowns in exasperation. "Royal Sword Academy has a class elective where they can train to be a knight." He turns to Jamil. "Do you and your sister have any sort of training?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to call it training, but I do have experience," Jamil replies. "I'm also here to chaperone, though. It's Najma who wants to try."

"I dunno how to ride horses just yet," the girl shakes her head. "But I can start learning! Can you teach me, Mister Riddle?"

Riddle raises an eyebrow, and there's something that almost looks like a smile on his face. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can only teach you for no longer than 20 minutes, all right? I have other duties to attend to."

"Got it, Mister Riddle! Thank you!" Najma beams.

"And you, Azul? Would I be correct to assume you do not need any guidance?" Riddle asks him.

Azul smiles politely. "Indeed. I shall not be doing anything complex nor dangerous. I can assure you that I will keep the horse safe. And I would not want to take any time away from Najma's training."

Riddle nods. "Very well. If you do happen to need any guidance, perhaps you can ask Jamil, seeing as he has some knowledge of it as well."

Jamil notices how Riddle takes note of Azul's NRC blazer. Riddle looks at Jamil curiously, then turns to Najma.

"Miss Viper, if you'll follow me," Riddle leads her to one of the horses and explains that it's one of the calmest and most suited for beginners.

"Riddle's in a good mood today," Ruggie says. "Imma go ask him if he'll tip me if I clean up here and brush the horses," he jogs over to Riddle and Najma.

Jamil watches Ruggie trot away before glancing back at Azul.

"So… Knight classes, huh? Is that a mandatory part of the curriculum?"

"No," Azul shakes his head. "It's an elective, but I was expected to take it as one of Rielle's close friends. Those who surround him must be able to protect him and themselves to some degree."

Azul starts walking and looking at the horses. "Are you sure you won't be riding? What will you be doing in the meantime?"

"Watching you and Najma ride around. It's fine… Why? Do you want me to ride along?" Jamil asks, leaning against the fence.

"It’s up to you," Azul stops in front of a brown and white stallion. "I'm just not sure if I'm comfortable with the thought that I'm the one who asked you to hang out today and yet you'll merely be standing around and, in your own words, babysitting," Azul smiles at him. "I want you to have fun as well."

"Hmm… Would you show me some stuff you learned from Knight Class if I join in?"

Azul's looks caught off-guard. "It's not nearly as cool as you might think, I warn you. It might not be so different from what you've already learned as a retainer."

Jamil playfully sighs, glancing away. "Then it looks like I must continue to hone my retainer skills by keeping a watchful eye over you and Najma from here…"

"Oh come now, that's not what I meant," Azul says gently, stepping in front of Jamil. "I was just worried you'll get bored if I just prattle on about things you might already know."

Jamil looks at him once more. "Let me be the judge of that.” A part of him feels sure much of Azul's prattling wouldn't bore him, anyway. "Shall we get ourselves some horses, then?"

Azul smiles. "We shall."

After readying their horses, they mount them and begin at a trot across the hill.

Azul tells Jamil about the proper ways to hold the reins and about encouraging the horse to move or stop without hurting it or making it feel tense. Jamil already knows about most of it, as Azul had guessed, but it was a nice refresher, and nicer to listen to Azul explain it.

"Usually the basics end there," Azul says. "But in RSA, we must also learn to wield at least one weapon or shield while on a moving horse."

Azul lets go of the reins with one hand and raises his Magic Pen to demonstrate. "It's a little trickier to keep one's balance when holding something heavy–though we don't have anything like that right now so I'm just using my pen as a stand-in. A more advanced lesson is learning how to accurately shoot a bow and arrow from a moving horse. I never quite learned that one," Azul says in amusement.

"Interesting . . ." Jamil attempts to picture Azul wielding a weapon to battle. It's a strange image, but still rather intriguing. "Are people like Rielle also participating in this elective, too?"

Azul nods. "Our professors in that class have higher expectations from nobility, which is saying a lot considering their expectations for the rest of us already. Though I don't envy Rielle his more rigorous training, he does make for a rather formidable sparring partner. "

"It really does sound like training for knights," Jamil commented. "Have you guys ever been told what it was all for? If it were me, I'd suspect there to be something afoot."

"Rielle is a crown prince," Azul begins. "For people like him, it's to prepare him in case he would need to fight in actual battles for his kingdom. For people like me–those who are expected to always accompany nobility–it's so we would be able to defend them in case of an assassination attempt or any other attack. Then there are those who aspire to be knights in the future. If they receive good marks in that class, it would significantly help their applications after graduation."

To aspire for a job Jamil had been trying to get out of sounds absurd. If he ever finds those hopefuls, he'd tell them they could just swap positions. That way, everyone would be happy.

Now that he thinks about it, they remind him of that First Year, Sebek Zigvolt. Completely wild.

"So someone told you to take the elective because you were Rielle's friend?"

Azul averts his eyes and looks straight ahead. "More like they all assumed I would take it because I'm Rielle's closest friend. His father was looking forward to the both of us going to RSA, saying that the Knight Class there would be very useful to us. Most of our professors said the same thing in our first week at RSA."

Jamil gave him an unimpressed look. "... So you took it."

Azul smiles sadly, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "There is no need to sound so disappointed, Jamil. I know what I did." Then his smile changes into a friendlier one, and his voice sounds upbeat when he speaks. "Come on, I'll race you to the top of that hill. Hiyah!" he snaps the reins, digs his heels into the horse's sides, and it gallops away.

Jamil sighs and speeds along after him, taking in the breeze as he watches Azul ahead.

He supposes there's little he can do considering this is the life his friend chose.

But it's still frustrating watching him just accept it lying down.

He spurs his horse onward to keep a steady pace with Azul's, making sure not to lag too far behind but not close enough to make the other speed faster.

Upon reaching the top of the hill, Azul doesn't slow down. He turns his horse around and veers towards the obstacle course that the Equestrian Club uses for their activities.

His jaw is set and there's an intensity in his eyes as he glares ahead, leaning forward on his horse and speeding up.

Azul reaches the first hurdle, and the stallion clears it easily. They go through the course, Azul going for the more advanced hurdles, the horse leaping higher and farther, Azul ducking and dodging the wooden planks.

Jamil stays close by, briefly figuring that he doesn't want to risk the hurdles if he doesn't know how capable his horse is.

But then he manages to get a brief glance at Azul's expression, and wordlessly, he urges his steed to go for it. He's not going to let Azul take the win that easily.

Jamil's horse clears the hurdles, though the blinding glare of the sun proves to be a challenge at some points. Fortunately, the wind is refreshing enough that he can keep his focus.

As he catches up to Azul at the end of the course, he sees him clutching the reins so tightly that his knuckles have gone pale. His head is bowed down and his eyes are closed as he breathes heavily.

The horse is just standing now, but it keeps shifting on its hooves restlessly, as if sensing its rider's tension.

Jamil slows his horse down, eyeing both the rider and steed ahead of him to spot anything off. Are they injured?

"What's wrong?"

As he walks closer, he doesn't see any injuries on either of them, but Azul isn't responding, his forehead beaded with sweat.

Azul takes a sharp intake of breath and his eyes fly open, only for them to roll back in his head as his body slumps, and he begins to slide off the horse.

"Whoa!" Jamil hisses, dashing forth to catch him before he completely slid out. "Azul!?"

Jamil has one hand around Azul’s shoulders while he leans limply against Jamil’s chest, remaining seated on his own horse.

It's difficult having to calm both horses at once, but Jamil isn't a stranger to calming down animals.

Hooves sounded in the distance, and Jamil looks to see Riddle and Najma on horses quickly approaching them.

"What happened?" Riddle asks when they reach them, his eyes falling on Azul’s unconscious form against Jamil. "Let's set him on the ground, we can't risk him falling off and breaking his neck."

Riddle takes out his Magic Pen and gently levitates Azul and places him on the grass.

Ruggie runs up to them, holding the brush that he’s been using for the horses. "Whoa! What happened to him?"

"Is he injured?" Najma asks worriedly from her horse.

Jamil hops off his own horse and states, "Stand back" as he tries to figure out what's wrong.

Azul's pulse is racing, and his skin is feverish to the touch. At the very least, Jamil doesn't see any cuts or bruises.

Then Azul's eyes flutter open, and his face cringes as he puts a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"A heat stroke, maybe," Jamil mutters, moving to shade Azul from the sun shining overhead. Despite his worry, he maintains a calm composure. "How're you feeling? Can you sit?"

"Were you not aware you were feeling unwell before you decided to ride a horse?" Riddle asks, frowning.

Azul sits up with a grunt. "I wasn't feeling unwell at all. Though perhaps it wasn't a good idea to exert myself so much on a hot day without wearing breathable clothing. Merfolk don't exactly thrive under the sun."

He glances up in confusion. "Isn't it raining, though? I thought I heard something… dripping…" he closes his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it, then opens his eyes again. "Never mind. I must have imagined it."

Riddle tenses up at Azul's remark.

Ruggie suddenly kneels down next to Azul. "You haven't been using your magic just now, have you? Where's your Magic Pen?" he asks, almost in a panic.

Azul furrows his eyebrows and shows his pen to Ruggie. "I haven't been using my magic. Why?"

Ruggie inspects the magestone on Azul’s pen, then sighs in relief. He falls silent, shakes his head, and stands up again beside Riddle while averting his eyes.

Riddle gives Ruggie a curious look, his frown deepening. He turns to Azul.

"We should have you checked at the infirmary. As the person who gave you permission to get a horse and use this area for riding, this is my responsibility. I shall return Najma’s horse to the stables and then we shall head out.” Riddle is looking at Azul and Jamil imperatively, letting them know that there is no room for arguments.

Azul sighs. "All right," he stands up and brushes dirt from his clothes.

The Viper siblings throw each other a look of concern before Jamil helps Najma off her horse and they both follow.

"Can we come, too? I was the one who wanted to go horse-riding, after all. If I'd known…" Najma asks, nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"Oh, it's all right, Young Viper," Azul says with a kind smile, gently patting Najma on the head. "It was my decision to go horse-riding myself, and none of us could have predicted what happened."

"You may come along if you wish," Riddle says. “Just be certain not to get in the way."

Both Vipers nod and they quietly wait for Riddle and Ruggie to return the horses back to their stables before they head to the infirmary.

While they’re all waiting outside for Azul as the nurse had instructed, Riddle approaches Jamil and Najma, looking at the latter.

"Najma, Azul would need to be sufficiently hydrated. Would you go to the vending machine out in the corridor and buy him two cold bottles of water? You may get whatever food or drink you want as well," he hands Najma some thaumarks.

Najma straightens up and accepts the money, nodding with a determined look on her face. "Yes, Mr. Riddle!" She runs off.

Riddle watches her disappear around the corner before turning to Jamil.

"What exactly happened before he fainted?" Riddle asks, looking troubled.

Jamil looks down the hall where his sister had run off, then he turns to Riddle. "He got really into his horse-riding, as far as I can tell. He just looks like he overexerted himself, though it was pretty sudden.” He notices the crease between Riddle’s eyebrows, the worried look on his normally composed features. “You know something, don't you?"

Riddle purses his lips. "Were you two talking about anything in particular before he started on the obstacle course? I saw that he had done even the advanced hurdles."

Jamil wonders if it was wise to divulge to others something so personal to Azul, so he decides to be vague. "If you want details, you may have to ask him, but… We did have a conversation about his… complicated feelings over his situation as an RSA student."

The frown on Riddle's face remains. He turns to Ruggie, who is leaning against the wall a little far from them, lost in thought.

"Ruggie."

Ruggie startles at Riddle's voice, then he walks over to them. "Yeah?"

Riddle looks at Ruggie, as if taking the time to weigh his words before saying them.  "Why did you ask Azul if he had been using his magic?"

Ruggie looks down and shifts on his feet. "I dunno…" he mumbles.

"You're suspecting the same thing, aren't you?" Riddle says, impatience coloring his voice.

Ruggie winces as if Riddle had shouted at him, even though the Prefect had maintained his calm volume.

"I could be wrong," Ruggie says uneasily. "It was just the first thing that came to mind, that's all. Guess I'm still a little paranoid…" he rubs the bandages on his arm.

Riddle sighs and shakes his head. "This isn't good at all," he mutters.

"What? What're you both on about?" Jamil asks, glancing back and forth between the two before eyeing Ruggie's injured arm. "Wait… You're not saying this is related to… There's no way."

Riddle raises an eyebrow at him. "'No way'? Let me remind you that Overblots are supposed to be extremely rare, and yet we've had two already happen in this school in less than three months. You're not a fool, Jamil; you must have heard the rumors and pieced them together. This mindset of 'there's no way' is what has left us all ill-prepared in the first place."

Riddle starts to pace the floor, muttering. "The Headmage really should be doing something more about this…"

Ruggie snorts. "Crowley? Yeah, good luck relying on that guy for anything."

Jamil stares at Riddle. "Then it's true. You went through an Overblot, too… Wait, but what makes you think Azul's in danger of the same thing?" he points out. "Did you or Leona have fainting episodes, too?"

Riddle stops pacing in front of Jamil. "Indeed, it's true," he says grimly. "But I don't know Azul Ashengrotto well enough to judge if he's about to go through the same thing. I didn't have fainting spells, but nearing my Overblot, there were moments when… I felt myself slipping away. And then the dripping sound…" Riddle looks away, his face strained from the memories.

"It was the same thing for Leona," Ruggie mumbles. "I dunno if he heard any dripping sound, but whenever he got too upset about having to defeat Malleus, it's like he turned into a different person. He's always been a pain in the ass and his snarls are practically a part of his personality, but leading up to his Overblot, sometimes it's like he lost control of himself. It wasn't loud or anything, and I don't think anyone else noticed. But he was… different." Ruggie shakes his head. "I can't explain it."

"It's the conflict," Riddle says, his voice quiet. "There were times when I could feel the darkness growing within me. I had to fight it with every ounce of my being, and as we all know, I didn't entirely succeed…" he looks down at his hand, a distant look in his eyes. He suddenly looks up at Jamil. "In the moments before he fainted, what was Azul like?"

Jamil furrows his eyebrows in thought. The sad smile, followed by the intense (frustrated?) look in Azul's eyes. "Azul's usually what you'd expect from an RSA student: pleasant, polite, competent... But for such a capable guy, he seems to carry a sense of... resignation when it comes to his future. People expect a lot out of him, most of which I suspect he doesn't wanna do at all, and he gets a bit more morose whenever he's reminded of it."

Riddle and Ruggie exchange worried glances.

"Damn," Ruggie says to no one in particular. "That sounds awfully familiar, don't it?"

"Jamil," Riddle says urgently. "Right before he fainted, did Azul seem uncharacteristically angry or frustrated? How was he in his last few seconds of consciousness?"

"It was hard to say since he was riding ahead of me, but in the few moments I did catch a glimpse of him, I suppose he did seem a little intense. I thought he was just determined to win." Jamil responds. "Then when I was heading over, he looked like he was concentrating on something, since he was tense and had his eyes closed. Then he gasped and fainted. Does that mean anything? I figured he was getting dizzy at the time."

"Tense and concentrating?" Ruggie looks at Riddle and Jamil in turn. "Like the conflict that Riddle mentioned?"

"He could just be getting dizzy," Riddle frowns, then shakes his head in defeat. "I don't know. It's extremely difficult to determine these things, given the unfortunate lack of research on the subject. It would be better if we could also speak to Leona about this, but I doubt he would be so inclined to discuss the subject."

Riddle looks at Jamil. "To be on the safe side, do what you can to see to it that Azul doesn't repress his negative feelings so much. He must be able to talk about them and accept them. Letting such feelings fester will not be good for him, regardless of an Overblot."

"Wait," Ruggie says. "Only powerful mages are in danger of Overblotting, right? Because of how much magic they can produce? Is Azul that powerful?" he asks Jamil.

Jamil frowns. Azul's smart and strong, but Jamil can't say he's seen much of his powers firsthand to conclude anything concrete.

"I think you're better off asking the Leech twins or Prince Rielle. They have known the guy much longer, and the twins told me that Azul had a magic contract business when they were younger."

The sound of footsteps approaches, and Najma appears, holding a bag of drinks.

"I used my money for the others, Mr. Riddle," she says as she hands bottled drinks to all of them and returns some change of thaumarks to Riddle. "How's Mr. Azul?"

The door to the infirmary opens. "Better now, thank you," Azul says with a small smile, closing the door behind him. "It seems like it really was just exhaustion and the heat. I hope I didn't worry you too much.”

Jamil searches Azul's face for any sort of fabrication. He doesn't seem like he's lying, though his eyes look tired.

Then Jamil glances at Riddle and Ruggie, gauging their reactions. Are they going to tell him?

"Hey, I'm glad you're okay, Azul!" Ruggie says. "Welp, hate to have to end it on this note, but I got some chores to do at Savanaclaw, so, see ya!" he waves at them and jogs away.

Riddle straightens up and smiles at Azul. "Indeed, I am glad to see that you are well. I must get back to my dorm now. It was nice to have made your acquaintance, Azul Ashengrotto. Najma has purchased drinks for you to stay hydrated," he gestures to Najma. "Until next time," he nods to Azul and turns to leave.

Azul nods and smiles back, and turns to Najma for the drink.

Riddle pulls Jamil aside. "He's your friend," he says quietly. "You decide what to tell him.” then he leaves without another word.

"Me?" Jamil mumbles in surprise. They were the ones who saw the signs to begin with. Why're they dumping the responsibility on his shoulders?

He huffs in troubled exasperation, before turning to Azul and Najma.

"... Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Azul nods. "I am. I hope I didn't put too much of a damper on the hangout."

"Not at all!" Najma says reassuringly. "I need to go too, because my teacher is looking for me. One of my classmates just texted," she holds up her phone. "Are you really okay now, Mr. Azul?"

"Yes, Miss Najma. It was nice to have met you today." Azul says, smiling. "Take care in going back to your classmates."

Najma turns to Jamil. "Will you be okay?" she casts a sideways glance at Azul.

"Obviously," Jamil utters. "I'm your big brother, aren't I? I'd be setting a bad example otherwise. Now run along and don't get yourself into trouble."

"No promises," Najma grins and runs off.

"We still have some time," Azul says. "Any other places you wanna show me?" he smiles.

"I'm thinking we should inform one of your friends in RSA about what happened so that there's someone else there who can monitor you and do follow-ups, just to be safe," Jamil replies. "I'm surprised you still want to walk around after what happened."

Azul furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "It was just exhaustion, wasn't it? It was my fault for going through that obstacle course in such restricting clothing," he shakes his head. "Oh, speaking of which, perhaps you can direct me to your laundry room? I dirtied your blazer from when I was lying down on the grass.”

Jamil shakes his head. "There's no need. I can have that washed myself. More importantly, it's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to stuff like this. What if it's got something to do with your transition into a human? Or maybe you've been lacking in sleep or food or water. What's wrong with having a friend or two keep an eye on you to make sure no further symptoms occur?"

Azul looks caught off-guard by Jamil’s remarks. "All right, then perhaps we can find a place to just sit, and you can tell me what exactly happened? I'm still a little confused…"

"How much can you recall?" Jamil asks as he leads Azul to a bench by the courtyard.

"I remember leading my horse to the top of the hill," Azul says as they sit down. "Then going through the obstacle course…?" he frowns, as if suddenly uncertain. Then something else mixes with the confusion in his expression. Apprehension? Fear?

"Hey," Jamil softly calls out to him through what he can only imagine is the darkness in his head. He reaches out to brush his hand against the other boy's fingers, holding onto them. "Talk to me. It's okay."

Azul turns to him, his tense posture relaxing gradually.

He shakes his head in confusion and looks down. "I remember being upset… at our conversation about the Knight Class. And then I was… angry? I only remember bits and pieces of the obstacle course, I don't even entirely recall deciding to go there…" his voice fades out into a whisper.

He falls quiet for a moment, looking more and more troubled. "I'd never felt such anger before, the selfish kind that urged me to do whatever I wanted, without thought for anyone else. Normally I would have asked Riddle for permission before using the obstacle course. I could have hurt the horse, too." He looks at Jamil. "How did I get on the ground? Did I fall off?"

"I caught you before you could," Jamil mumbles. "Riddle used magic to set you down after.”

"Oh, thank you. I should have thanked Riddle as well," Azul says, glancing at the direction of the infirmary before turning back to Jamil.

“You looked feverish, like you were having a nightmare…” Jamil continues. “Do you know what or who you were angry towards?"

"I don't remember why I was angry… What do you think is happening? Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Azul's eyes are looking at him with worry.

Jamil has the sense that Azul is used to always understanding everything, and this unknown situation is scaring him.

He really wishes that the ones who actually went through the experience were here. They would have explained it much better than he can.

"I don't know myself, but Riddle and Ruggie seem to recognize the signs. They think you're accumulating Blot at an unexpected rate. Ruggie was wondering if you've been using a lot of magic recently, while Riddle thinks it's got something to do with your psyche." The images of sad smiles and nails dug into skin appear Jamil’s mind. "Azul... you're more upset about your situation than you let on, aren't you?"

Azul looks at him in confusion. "My situation? What do you mean? And Blot accumulation? We have our Magic Pens to control such things, right? An Overblot hasn't been heard of in centuries."

Jamil lets out a humorless laugh. "You can say that to Riddle and Ruggie's faces. I wasn't around when it happened but it occurred to Riddle himself while a friend of Ruggie's Overblotted a few weeks later. You have to take it seriously. Those injuries on Ruggie's arm hadn't just come from a random accident and so far we've been lucky there's been no casualties yet. We're not gonna start now."

"WHAT!?" Azul's eyes widen in shock. "Two Overblots in the span of mere weeks? What did Sir Crowley do?"

Jamil pauses before he shrugs. "I don't know. As far as I was concerned, those incidents had only been rumors until they confirmed it to me personally because they were worried about you."

Azul just stares at him in surprise. Then he blinks a few times. "I see. So they both think I might be having symptoms of an impending Overblot?" he chews his lower lip in worry. "Can you ask Riddle Rosehearts if I can have his contact information? I'd like to speak with him further about it in the future."

"All right," Jamil takes his phone out. It's funny; he's had Riddle’s number since they became fellow Prefects, but he's never found reason to use it until now. He texts the other Prefect for permission to forward his number to Azul. Then he glances up at the merman. "So… Do you think their worries hold any sort of merit, or..?"

"I'm not sure," Azul says. "I'd never known anyone who has Overblotted before, and I haven't done any research about it. It still baffles me that your Headmage hasn't seem to have done anything."

Azul frowns and lowers his voice. "Now that I think about it, he was the one who had started the anger I'd been feeling today." He looks at Jamil then hurriedly says, "Oh, I apologize! I didn't mean to speak ill of your Headmage. It's just that… I think I had started to feel the… darkness… after all the things he said at the cafeteria."

"Feel free to speak ill of him as much as you like," Jamil responds. "It's refreshing to see someone so innocent understand how our Headmage's actually like. More importantly, that's the thing, isn't it? He may have said all that and unknowingly upset you, but the fact that it upset you to begin with means that this is going back a long way. I'm willing to bet Crowley's not the first person to tell you those things and he probably won't be the last."

Azul averts his eyes. "Yes. But at present, I don't see what I can do about it." He looks at Jamil again. "Are you sure this is how you'd like for us to spend our time together? I don't want to burden you with my worries."

"I was the one who asked, right?" Jamil says, reclining into as comfortable a position as he can get. "Sometimes you just gotta vent it out, and I'm pretty sure you dealt with my burdens the past few times we were together."

For the first time in a long while, Azul smiles. It's a small one, but it's not sad or resigned, and it actually reaches his eyes. He sighs. "I'm not even sure where to begin, it feels like everyone has had these expectations from me for as long as I can remember. And I know it's likely just as hard for Rielle, that's why I do stay by his side whenever I can. Why I take the Knight Class, why I'm not entirely opposed to being his advisor in the future. Ever since we were children, we've been each other's breathing room. We always knew that the other would accept us for who we are no matter what everyone else expects. I don't want to just leave him alone to deal with all of that." Azul looks down.

Jamil listens, quiet. ".... Does that mean Rielle knows about your frustrations regarding this situation, too? Or did you keep that one secret because you wanted to spare his feelings?"

Azul is silent for a moment. "I don't know how to tell him," he mutters. "I don't want him to blame himself, he already has a lot to deal with. It's easier for me to get out of RSA and find somewhere else to breathe like today. He doesn't have such a luxury. He's even busier these days with the dance coming up next week."

"But he's your friend, isn't he? Wouldn't he want to know if he or his situation is causing you distress, too?" Jamil points out.

Azul looks at him curiously. "Are you always this emotionally mature? Then why do you claim that your schoolmates see you as someone who would stab a person in the gut for looking at you the wrong way?" he says playfully.

"Because I would," Jamil hums nonchalantly. It's unclear whether he means it or not. "If you want, I can start doing that to the next 'Crowley' that tries to tell you who you have to be. Sorcerer knows I already hear enough of that spiel from the grown-ups back home."

Azul chuckles. "I must say, no one has ever offered to stab anyone for me. And, interestingly, it's one of the nicest things that someone has ever said to me. You really are special, Jamil Viper," he gazes right into Jamil's eyes.

Jamil seems to flinch in surprise at the compliment before awkwardly looking away. "... We're getting off-track. What will you do now that you're aware of the danger?"

Azul sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "The first thing to do would be to speak to Rielle. Any decision I make would affect him." He glances at his watch. "And I must be getting back to RSA now."

He takes off Jamil’s blazer and hands it to him, smiling. "Thank you for today, Jamil. It didn't quite go as either of us expected but… I'm glad you don't mind."

Jamil shakes his head as he takes his blazer. "It's all right, I…"

I'm just worried about you.

"... I just hope you look after yourself better, even if it means being selfish. Don't be a stranger now. You can always hit me up with a text. When you do, we can make up for it next time."

"I look forward to it." Azul stands up. "After all, I still have to get my revenge on you at mancala," he smiles playfully.

"And you have to apologize to the horse you rode for fainting on him without warning." Jamil stands up in succession. "I'll see you to the gate, at least. Come on."

When they reach the gate, Azul turns to Jamil.

"I'll be busy this week because of the Autumn Dance preparations. The next time we'll be seeing each other would most likely be at the dance itself on Saturday. But if you wanna talk, you can always send me a message."

Jamil nods. "The same offer extends to you. It was nice seeing you, Azul..." he says, but he still has a worried look in his eyes. "Take care, all right? Don't let everyone else tell you who you are."

A smile pulls at the corner of Azul's lips, and he tilts his head curiously at Jamil. "How do you feel about hugs?"

Jamil tenses up. "I'm… not really used to physical affection. That's more Najma and Kalim's thing."

Azul nods and smiles in understanding. "I'll keep that in mind. See you at the Autumn Dance, Jamil."

He turns around and walks away.

Jamil watches his slowly retreating form, knowing there's a part of him that wants to tug Azul back and embrace him.

But he hesitates.

And then the moment is gone.

"... See you at the Autumn Dance."

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been reading this lil' AU of ours! Feel free to let us know what you think in the comments! We'd love to hear your thoughts ^_^

<- Chapter 3

Chapter 5 ->

(Masterlist)

[miragecounseling]

"Can't you listen to me?" for your new Commander, if it fits!

tHANK U i rly need to develop her so badly 

---

Prima lay in her bed, covered in heavy furs and enjoying the smell of leek and potato soup that wafted through the air. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked around her room. Sunlight spilled through the thin makeshift curtains Braham had put up to give her some privacy, the soup sat on the small table next to her bed along with a note. 

‘Feel better soon x - Heidi’ 

She smiled and laid her head back on her pillow. Her body was still sore from the fight against not only the Whisper of Jormag, but also Bangar. Her bandages stuck to her body, restricting her movement and making it hard to get into a comfortable position. She winced in pain as she twisted her body in an attempt to lay on her side. 

‘Come off it, Prima. You’re lucky, this wound will heal...’ she mentally scolded herself.  

She thought back to the first time she had looked into the eyes of a hypnotized soldier and how it felt like Jormag had stabbed an icicle through her heart. You can stitch gashes, heal wounds, remove debris and cleanse cuts... But how do you stop someone from hearing the dragon’s call? 

A brisk knock came from outside her door before being followed by, “Commander, a word?” 

The door opened a crack and Heidi’s head popped through. Prima motioned for her to come in. Jhavi followed closely behind, hands full of documents, books, and what looked like maps. 

“Time to change your bandages!” Heidi chirped. 

Her voice was light and happy, it never matched the stone cold warrior exterior she presented. She lifted up Prima’s night shirt and unwrapped the bandages from her abdomen before cleaning her wounds. 

Jhavi unfolded a map and placed it over Prima’s legs. It had various markings, some angrily crossed out. She began speaking.. maybe about Ryland? Bangar? Prima could only make out bits and pieces as she struggled to focus on the words that came out of Jhavi’s mouth. 

Jhavi tore her eyes off of the map and stared at Prima. She said something and paused, then furrowed her brow and said it again. She shook her head, a scowl on her face. Heidi placed a hand on her arm and Jhavi’s face softened. 

“Commander,” she said again, placing a hand on Prima’s shoulder, “Can you listen to me?” 

Prima blinked rapidly, trying to unfog her eyes, “Uh.. yes.. Yes, I apologize.”

She looked to Heidi who had begun putting away her supplies. 

“What did I miss?” 

Jhavi opened and closed her mouth a few times before saying, “Nothing important. Just know that we’ve set up an excavation team to help clear the Eye of The North and we’ll be heading out tomorrow at sunrise. If you’re up to it, we’d love to have you.”

“I know Aurene misses you,” Heidi added from behind Jhavi’s shoulder. 

“Yes.. yes, I will accompany you. It would be nice to see everyone.”

‘Or, almost everyone...’ she thought to herself, the ache from missing Canach pulling at her heartstrings. ‘Soon. We’ll be reunited soon.’

[iwannawritepls]

Writing Update 05

Guess who finished. guess. go on guess. That’s right it was me!!

It was pretty intense because my playlist had finished and so I was sat feverishly typing the last paragraph out in silence and then when I went round for the final spell check I was listening to Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths and it finished as I finished and it was a moment.

So so so. in total we have

69069 words (nice) and 102 pages spread over 23 chapters and 5 parts. I can actually go into the plot and stuff now too because I know what that is from start to finish. I won’t go into that here I’ll just talk about the last chapters. Buckle up this ones gonna be long.

Whence last we left off there were 17 chapters and now there’s twenty-three. Chapter seventeen also has an actual name too so yay.

Chapter 17 – Pinches of Catgut

Chapter 18 – Yours Forever, Echo

Chapter 19 – Ink’s Tarnish

Chapter 20 – Red Room

Chapter 21 – Crosshatched Scars

Chapter 22 – Chasing Sundust

Chapter 23 – Amen

Chapter 17 originally is now what chapter 18 and chapter 23 isn’t really an epilogue but it also is y’know? Like the last two chapters are the endings in their own right (I say as if I didn’t stop reading The Darkest Minds seven pages from the end)

But c’est la vie!

Chapter 16 (I can finally explain this stuff woo) we had the fallout to the guy’s being told they have to pay the devil – who isn’t really the devil and is actually a god in his own right but that’s beside the point – back for everything he’s done for them. this one focuses on Valentine and Albert having a bit of a moment where I realised ‘oh gosh everyone is a foil to everyone oh gosh’

Chapter 17 is kinda the same but from William and Basil’s side where they have their own conversation about who Will killed Charlie by accident….yeah…William is still baby he just killed someone that’s fine. This is fine.

Chapter 18 is where shit hits the fan because oh my god James is back!!!!! Idk if I mentioned this but James is Enoch’s dead bf who wasn’t dead at all and I’ve been hinting at it the entre god damned book. I almost didn’t include it but after a talk with one of my friends I realised that James’ being alive would bring in more tea than ever before and well,,,,,,why wouldn’t I?

Oh yeah James also tells Enoch that everyone is coming to find them.

The way I'm explaining this seems like stuff just happens, but I swear I do add threads throughout! I'm just disjointed in my thought process.

Chapter 19 is the beginning of the end. We have a rush to pack as they’re trying to get out and they would have more help from James but Basil doesn’t trust James, Enoch is drunk, William has lost a lot of blood and both Al and Valentine had been asleep so they’re slow and groggy and it’s raining because England and winter and the coast is just a great combination.

Enoch and James end up going ahead cus people are getting close and they need to get their stuff away from there. There were three cases left to tie but they didn’t have time so while James and Enoch go ahead the others are carrying the last three cases to the docks so they can tie and run.

Chapter 20 is where Enoch wraps his beef with Aristide up. kinda. He originally planned on just saying goodbye but then stuff happens and he feels bad for Aristide so he just gives him to the devil without the murder part of it.

Chapter 21 valentine kills his uncle and gets closure™

Chapter 22 this chapter is so good. I love it, I love it so much. I'm still kinda feeling funky about it because its got a flashback and the rest of the book hasn’t got anything exactly like this – unless you consider the small titbit in chapter 17 a flashback. But I really delve into Sebastian’s psyche and before then I kinda hated Sebastian but it feels like he's had a whole ass character arch and I love it. I really love this chapter so much.

And finally chapter 23 is them running and the last of the setup for the next book

I want to include memes but they’re all old stuff. If I have anything new, I’ll insert it if not I’ll keep 5 random facts about the boy’s as my transition.

Albert

When he was a bab he wanted to meet keats before he realised the mans is dead.

Can write in shorthand in both Russian and English just so long as he doesn’t focus too hard on it

Albert is his middle name, Lyonya is his first name

Is a cat person.

Orders the same meal at every restaurant even if they don’t serve it. if they don’t serve it he has a tiny crisis.

Also defo has one of the others order for him

Basil

Defo a gifted and talented student if he was alive today

He's technically an accountant and low key enjoys it

Can fight but is a pacifist by choice

Skipped class once and got bored and never did it again

When they were still at school he would look after the groups deeds to land and do all the legal stuff for them because they had no clue. He still has all of Valentine’s papers and so could technically steal valentines land and nobody would care.

Enoch

Isn’t gay is actually bisexual

Is really good at science but just doesn’t care about it

He ate leek and potato soup exclusively for three weeks on a dare

Once played Mercutio and tripped on stage. Managed to hide it pretty well but hasn’t lived it down.

Would live in an old theatre if he could just for the aesthetic and bragging rights

Valentine

His family is of German heritage

Bakes as a stress relief but gets hyper focused on one thing for ages (tarts is the big one of the year)

Is the mum of the group but wouldn’t ever admit it

Cannot do maths for shit. or much else. He can just speak a lot and paint.

It’s a continuous joke irl and in novel universe that he’s called Valentine, but his birthday is on February 15th because his parents thought it was still February 14th when he was born.

William

Allergic to honey but would eat it anyway

Joined classes three years after everyone else

Is the only one in the group that understands people

Has a really bad centre of gravity and falls over a lot

He's 6’7

Bonus – a wild Sebastian appeared.

Acts 50 is 20

Is just brine

In a constant state of identity crisis

Was he born or did he just appear fully formed? Nobody knows

Always stuck as Benvolio. No matter what. forever. He hates it.

Excerpts! –

“you are a walking disaster.” Basil sighed

“I'm your favourite disaster though.” He could hear the smile in Enoch’s voice.

I just like these lines. Nothing too deep just thought they were funny.

Basil placed a hand on his knee hoping the rain could drown out what the music that followed William could not.

My mans being a supportive friend

He finished pulling the manuscript together and reached for the box Albert kept all his current writings in. it was a small box with darker patches between the broken veins where ink had spit and flowed between the cracks.

i have nothing to say about this 

They only had real tenderness with some of the fragile things. A school given copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream, a book by a man called Sashenka Potemkin, teacups with still blooming meadows painted onto them, a book about a monastery, a violin case that had nail marks embedded into the leather, an easel.

Y’know keepsakes are Important but if you’re running shouldn’t you pack light? Probably but these guys are sentimental bastards

The shops were alive with people, the two pubs were open and selling even the tailoress was in business. He wasn’t entirely surprised; worms came out during a storm. They thrived when the squawking of the gulls had disappeared.

We live in a society – Enoch 2019

The gate yielded under his hand, the closest he got to acceptance in the high walls. It seemed colder once he’d walked into the threshold, urging him towards the sickening feeling of unbelonging that sat in his gut. It made him want to turn away and never come back some of the time. How much he didn’t belong there.

Sebastian is yearning™

Basil reached into Albert’s pocket and pulled the crocus out. Albert didn’t react as he did so. he stared at it twirling it between his fingers staring at the petals and their untarnished glory despite having been used to kill them all at least once.

And while that isn’t the last line that’s the end of this. I'm taking a break from beginning anything big and while I want to move onto writing Adalius, Ariane and Adionis’ story I’ll wait for a moment before I do. just because I cant bring myself to think about how I'm starting this yet.

Anyway. That means no updates for at least 3 weeks. I know you’re all distraught. But yeah.

I hope you have a good day.

Thanks for reading this!

BYEEE!

[kiss-my-freckle]

7x18 rewatch.

This will end up long because I”m gonna comment as I rewatch. 

I love this discussion about faith given Liz’s two leaps of faith and those two unicorn foreshadows from 6x20. Liz’s leap of faith in Red to save her daughter from Kirk in 4x6. Liz’s leap of faith in Tom to remarry him in 3x17. I really love this imam, his character overall. He impressed me a great deal in his scenes. 

Clearly the prospect of my death doesn't shake your faith.  How about we see if the prospect of yours shakes his. Keenler. Prospect of having to live without me must’ve been terrifying. It was.

What? Everyone knows wine is dehydrating. So much feeding back to The Apothecary, and I’m not sure why. Either he’s getting poisoned by the second Wicked Wolf, or they have plans with this direction. Maybe it’s not so much the storyline as it is the wine. There’s so much focus to wine. I’ll have to consider it more. Either way, this is the scene that acts as the bridge to Devane’s episode. 

Isolation and planting prints. More to my Tom domino theory. I believe Red framed him for Diane Fowler’s murder. Krilov in solitary. I believe Tom was the one who took Liz for that second memory wipe. Also Richard Game, tied to Tom, who was in isolation due to medical reasons. The mention of locked-door mysteries makes me question if there could be a parallel somewhere. I’ll look through scripts for that as well. 

Red’s successor. Vichyssoise is a creamy, rich potato and leek soup that's usually served cold. One story attributes it to the French king Louis XV, who was terrified of being poisoned and ordered so many people to taste his soup that by the time he ate, it had grown cold. I find this interesting, given my consideration to the Apothecary and Red being poisoned. 

As soon as ‭the transition is complete. What transition? Nothing like putting this into the context of transition when we’re talking about Katarina becoming Reddington, now talking to Liz about how his pregnancy was unplanned. 

You're also the daughter of Katarina Rostova. Believe me, ‭it's not what I had hoped for, or what I had planned for. Red’s collapse acting as the bridge for past and future. But as the good book says, man plans. God laughs. Tom planned, God laughed. 

What changed? I know that before everything changed - my father was kind and decent and beautiful.

Fate of Past, Rederina: Destiny. Fate. Me. You. Fate of future, Keenler baby: Destiny. Fate. Me. You. Red saying, “Perhaps it's time to mend that fence.” I now have visions of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. That’s how the false mother died in the film, and they ran balcony shots on Liz’s apartment twice. First with Aram, when they were discussing nannies for Agnes. Again, when Liz questioned the woman about Agnes’ drawing of the dead body. It also fits the reference of being impaled by a unicorn. 

Speaking of true love. Marvin in the toy section, talking about wanting kids with Becky - and negoation. Each has something the other wants. I just told you it's at the end of the aisle. 

Marvin: If you don't see it, we're either out or you're not looking hard enough.

Tom: Maybe he’ll be walking you down the aisle. Liz: Not if you’re at the other end of it.

You're holding me hostage. That would speak to Liz’s second memory wipe.  "Try and move the needle.” Makes me think of Red’s lethal injection. 

Seven-card stud, also known as Seven-Toed Pete or Down-The-River is a variant of stud poker. A nice stabbing in the prison. Gutted like Tom. 

Red’s scene with Al. “Imagine the trouble we'd find if you could stay up past nine?”

Red: But I want you to remember what your life really was with him, and imagine all that it could be without him.  Liz: I don’t have to imagine. 

Looks like Tom’s in a little bit of trouble and he’s gonna bring that trouble to you. So... be careful.

You are the devil on my shoulder, Ray. Back to The Informant. I’m the devil on one shoulder, and you’re the angel on her other. She’s in troubled waters, Harold. Please help her to navigate them. Because Tom is the devil on Liz’s shoulder. That’s why he’s there at his grave, talking to Liz. Her tiny island, Ressler. Help her to navigate them, so she doesn’t get swept out to sea.

I... I came as soon as I got Dembe's text. Liz at Tom’s warehouse. I got your message. What is this place? I'm in ‭a bit of a sticky wicket. Follow that with Liz. Your daddy just always taught me to be ready for a rainy day. I don't know. Don't know or can't say?

That bit can be found in 2x20, 2x22, and 5x8. They’re talking about a fingerprint at a crime scene while, as I’ve stated above, I believe Red framed Tom for Diane Fowler’s murder. 

Another mumbly peg like Pete and Caul. 

Maybe Gerard knows. I mean, if that mouthpiece knows anything, Reddington'll get him to blow. I think this was from Arioch Cain, but can’t be sure. 

I’m not gonna get into Ressler’s scene with Liz, I put that in my fate post. I will take note to Ressler seemingly flashing back to that scene, so he heard what Red said to Stark about his blood panel results. I’ll also take note to the “news” dialogues. That’s why they threw in a flashback for Ressler in Roy Cain. He’s gonna look into Red’s medical file for Liz. “Not on my watch.”

Red: You haven’t mentioned my blood panel results. Stark: We’ve been too busy. Red: Not for good news.

Liz: Because it's like I'm in the middle of a monsoon that's constantly threatening to drown me in bad news.

The reference to a telephone book. I’ll have to see if there are any parallels for that as well. Evergreen dip spit and nuts in a Cheerio.Interesting references lately. Dipstick to dip spit. Tuck tail and go, now nuts in a Cheerio. 

I don’t like the way this woman talks to Dembe before he goes to speak with his imam. It’s as if she’s getting off on this. Like she’s enjoying ever second of it. 

Dembe: A man's life is more important than a man's secrets. Imam: Some lives are built on secrets. And when they are revealed, the life they're built on ends as well.

The imam basically knows the difficult choice Dembe is faced with. Dembe is being forced to choose between Red’s life... and the imam’s. Revealing Red’s secrets will kill him, and the imam knows this. That’s why Red is so disturbed by Dembe’s choice. But I think Red has to start realizing that his secret shouldn’t trump a life like the imam’s. Ever. If it were someone like Floriana Campo, I wouldn’t care. If I let you die to save Raymond's soul, how will I ever save my own? The imam is trying to get him to understand it’s not his fault. It’s the fault of the woman, of Red, and of Liz. They put these two in a terrible position with their secrets. Dembe got me in this episode. Sending chills right through me with his tears. 

There are some scenes in this that I’ll be putting to gif, so I won’t bother commenting them. This woman speaks to Dembe “praying” on his decision. It takes me back to Liz at Tom’s grave. “Preying” on the emotions of those that love her most. I commend Dembe for his honesty. He could’ve lied to Red, said he wasn’t gonna tell her anything, but he admitted it. Ledger of a warden. Ledger of Ian Garvey. 

The discussion of a binary choice. I’ll have to see how that compares to a Hobson’s choice because it sounds much of the same. Red states as he did in Cape May. There’s always a choice. Yet later with Marvin, speaks to not having a choice - just as he did at the end of Cape May. You had no choice. It was me or Masha. Like Dembe leaving the imam no choice but remain silent about his abduction. Choices. 

Woman: I'm giving them a choice. Dembe made the right one. If it comes down to it, one day, I hope you will too. Liz: I thought I already had. Woman: You did. And it saved me. But there will be more choices for you to make. Liz: Between you and him. Woman: I don't think one of us can live while the other survives. And I think the outcome is in your hands.

Like Kate, the woman doesn’t feel they can co-exist. But I also find this interesting with regard to the Hobson’s choice Katarina made. Katarina coudn’t survive while Masha lives. That was the path she took. And Red understands Liz’s position because he knows she believes this woman is her mother. 

Marvin: You're giving a cop the keys to your kingdom. Red: Regrettably. Marvin: Why do it? Red: Because where she's going, she'll need it. Marvin: And where, pray tell, is our plucky heroine going? Red: To a very dark and dangerous place. She doesn't see it, or can't accept it, but her path is undeniable. 

“I’ve made many difficult choices in my life. Choices that at one point or another have brought pain and sorrow to everyone I cared about. That’s a heavy burden to bear, even if the path one chooses is the only one in sight.”

Marvin: You make it sound like she has no choice. Red: What did you say? Marvin: I said you make it sound like she has no choice. Red: I guess that is what I'm saying. Sometimes there is no choice.

Red’s dialogue about a dark and dangerous place reminds me of Liz under the table in Lady Ambrosia. It is a long journey through a country that is sometimes dark and terrible. But it’s really the darkness and the light that strikes me. I do believe they’re taking this back to Ruin. Don’t just go off and hide in the dark. Wherever you go, look for some light. Tom is dark, Ressler is light. That’s why Ressler met baby Luke. Light giving. He’ll want to save Liz just as Liz saved him. When it comes down to Liz making her choice, that’s when I think Ressler will tell her how he feels. How he’s felt for the past five seasons. 

I'm unsure of what Red is gonna do with Dembe because it's open to two interpretations. He looks at Dembe and tells Marvin, "Sometimes, there is no choice." He could be saying Dembe didn't have a choice, and because of that, will forgive him. Or he could be stating what Kate told us in S4. "Have no choice? Isn’t that the speech, Raymond?" Liz is basically placed in the same position as Dembe. Choosing Raymond over a woman she believes is her mother. 

Red assumes Liz has no choice. But she does have a choice. He’s simply forcing her to make it in the dark. Perfect time for Ressler to come in and shine some light. Whether or not Red kills Dembe, their relationship will never be the same. But it had to come down to this at some point. Your purpose is to protect Elizabeth, but mine is to protect you. If things get very bad, this will make that impossible. I do beileve the woman is gonna die in 7x19. Berdy is dead. Red is going after the brothers that faked her death because he knows she's alive. “Meanwhile, Liz must make a momentous decision.” And this woman is preparing for Liz to make her choice. I thought a lot about how most people's lives hinge on a few key moments. I think mine only had one moment, and then it was over.

The woman in Paris. If you won’t tell me her name, just tell me this. If we find her, will it end? That is our best hope. 

But when the time is right, when I have the answers, I will find you. Might be a week or a month, but I will find you. We will end this.

Keenler. Then we’ll deal with it. We?

And Ressler. where the hell did he go after talking to Liz about Stark and Red’s medical file? Perhaps he’s doing some recon, preparing to break in. 

[welcometophu]

Into the Split: Revolution 2

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Revolution 2

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Monday dawns with perfect spring weather. It’s warm enough that Nikolai doesn’t need more than a t-shirt, and as he and Seth walk to Teas Please, they see several PHU students in shorts, sundresses, and sandals. The combination of Spring Festival Week and the good weather lends an air of celebration to campus and the surrounding homes. Towels are spread on lawns, music plays loudly, and people are everywhere outside, tossing frisbees and footballs, or basking in the sun while studying.

Nobody cares that Nikolai and Seth walk hand in hand down the street. Some kids wave cheerfully, and one apologizes after diving in front of them to capture an errant frisbee.

“I think I’ll miss this place when we go,” Seth says quietly as their near miss darts off again, flinging the frisbee at his friend. “Not enough that I want to stay, but there’s something about this—”

“It’s innocent,” Nikolai agrees. “Freeing. It’s like it’s easy to live here.”

“That’s it, yes.” Seth’s thumb slides along the edge of Nikolai’s hand. “We can go get food. We don’t have to scramble for a place to sleep. If we stayed longer we’d have to work somehow, I’m sure, but right now, we’re just able to enjoy everything. I’m going to miss that part.”

Nikolai grabs the door to Teas Please when they get there, pulling it open for Seth to go through first. Nate spots them and waves, calling out, “I’ve got them,” as the hostess at the front pulls two menus from a stack.

“I guess Nate will be with you shortly,” she says with a small smile, handing them the menus while they wait.

Seth holds the menus as they follow Nate into the back of the restaurant. A group is already at the u-shaped table, but Cass sits at a table for two next to it, and the table next to her is empty. She looks up as they approach and sighs heavily, standing up to help squeeze the two smaller tables together into one space.

“I’ve got lunch break coming up,” Nate says. “Give me your order and I’ll get everything in at once and bring it out, or—” He breaks off, frowning as he leans in close to Cass. “Hey. Want a Mallory special?”

She rolls her eyes and sits back, arms crossed over her chest. “Whatever. It was good before.”

Nate hesitates a moment, then nods. “Okay, fine,” he says before he walks away.

Nikolai has the chair opposite Cass, with Seth next to him. She’s piled a light sweater and purse on the bench next to her, effectively making it so no one could get close. “Are you okay with us sitting here?” he asks.

She looks at the ceiling, shakes her head. “No. But it’s fine. I knew when I came here that I’d probably end up with half my sorority or some other random group of people I know coming in eventually.”

“Then why did you come?” Seth looks for a moment like he’s going to say something else, but his expression gentles instead.

Cass shrugs. “Nate’s here. The food’s decent. I don’t have most of my classes this week because the professors know no one’s going to show up anyway, except for this one stupid exam I have on Thursday. That professor’s a total dick; he made the exam this week just because it’s the festival and he knows people will be out drinking on Wednesday.” She tilts her head to look at them more directly. “That’s Election Day.”

None of that makes sense, but Nikolai nods like it does.

“Would it help if I—” Seth cuts off, his hand in the air when Cass glares at him.

“Don’t,” she says curtly. “I don’t need any kind of Talent induced high, or the equivalent of an emotional back rub. My emotions are just fine the way they are and I will deal with them, thank you very much.”

“Noted,” Seth says, his hand falling back to the table.

It occurs to Nikolai that Nate never asked him and Seth what they wanted to eat. He supposes they’re getting a Mallory special as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Seth offers. He doesn’t shrink away when Cass glares at him, just watches her with the same quiet consideration he’s given Nikolai his whole life.

Cass blinks first. She picks up the napkin wrapped around silverware and carefully unwraps the fork and knife. She lays them on the table, flattening out the napkin before putting it on her lap. “I’m fine.”

Even Nikolai can tell she’s lying. “You don’t sound it.”

“This semester—this school year, really—has been… a lot,” Cass says slowly, her voice tight and words careful. “This,” she gestures at Nikolai and Seth, “is just the end of several months’ worth of too much to deal with.”

“And you’re the kind of person who would rather bottle it up than rely on anyone else,” Seth says. When she tries to skewer him with a glare again, he just spreads his hands palm down on the table. “It’s an observation, not a judgment. You have your reasons, and given that I don’t know what they are, I can’t say whether this is a good or a bad thing. But you seem pretty miserable just from body language alone. I’d know even if I couldn’t feel it radiating off of you. Not that I’m listening on purpose. I can’t help it—you’re doing the emotional equivalent of empathic screaming right now. I’m kind of surprised that Heather hasn’t tried to hold you down and smother you in happy. She seems kind of like the type who’d do that.”

“Heather isn’t very good with negative emotions.” Cass has a small smile at that. “She likes being our social director, because it means she gets to work hard at making people happy. On the other hand, she’s also very easy to fool. A thin layer of pleasure over everything else and she doesn’t try to dig any deeper than that. I love Dax. I love sex with Dax. And I generally have fun at house events. Just the Dax parts are enough to keep her from looking for more.”

Her head tilts as she considers him more closely. “Is it because you haven’t seen me as much with Dax, or because you don’t know us as well? Or am I slipping?”

Seth nudges his glasses up his nose. “I think it’s the first. I’m just getting my first impressions of you now, and I don’t have that formed opinion of you as a part of you-and-Dax. If you asked me, I’d say your closest friends are… hm.” He leans back in his chair, tapping his chin with one finger. “You rely on Dax, but that’s a comfort thing. Like he’s that blanket you take everywhere. And he kinds of treats you the same way. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it’s like you both take each other for granted the way people who’ve been together forever do. Then there’s Mac and Carolyn and you have this weird love/hate thing going with them. You’re like that with all your sorority sisters, but you’re afraid of Heather, which is why I know you don’t like Empaths.”

“Or Telepaths,” Cass admits, “but I’ve only ever met one person who could really get inside my head like that.”

Nikolai’s surprised by that statement. It’s a more common Talent than that. “You may not know you’ve met them. Most Telepaths are more instinctive, like Empaths,” Nikolai says.

Cass’s expression twists into something vaguely constipated. “Lovely.”

“Then there’s Nate,” Seth continues as if they hadn’t interrupted him. “You have this really weird level of comfort with him, but it’s like you’re afraid of him at the same time, and other times you look at him like you have no idea what he’s even doing there. But you trust him and I think you hate yourself a little bit for that.”

“Cass hates herself for trusting someone?” Nate nudges her sweater and purse out of the way so he can drop into the empty spot on the bench next to her. He pushes a plate in front of her, piled high with salad and a thinly toasted sandwich cut into four wedges decorating the rim interspersed with what look like homemade thick-cut potato chips. “One Mallory special. Kim’s bringing out a shared meal for the two of you,” he tells Nikolai and Seth.

He keeps his own plate in front of him, with a three tiered sandwich made of thick, dark bread. Nikolai can smell the peanut butter, and the strong scent of smoke and maple. “What is that?”

“Bacon peanut butter club,” Nate says. “Take a peanut butter sandwich, then slather the top of it with mayo and some cranberry sauce, add lettuce and bacon and a third slice of bread, and there you go. It’s disturbingly good.”

“Ew,” Cass says, but she still holds out one small triangle of her toasted sandwich and accepts a quarter of Nate’s sandwich in return.

A girl who must be Kim arrives with one of the three-tiered contraptions, but instead of small bites on each plate, each one is overflowing, and she carries another plate in her hand. “Mallory apparently thinks you’re starving,” she says as she sets it between Nikolai and Seth. “I hope you’re in the mood for some citrus. You’ve got a carrot and leek non-dairy creamed soup with fresh lemon and ginger, and a spring salad with candied orange peel and walnuts. The sandwich is a chicken and brie panini with apple slices; I’ve had that one and it’s really good and I wish we’d put it on the menu. And for dessert, a lemon berry crêpe with a dark chocolate drizzle.”

Kim straightens up, glancing at the booth next to them where the patrons are filing out in a burst of noise. She lowers her voice, nods at it. “It’ll take me five to get it cleaned up, okay?”

Nate grins. “You know us so well. I don’t think we’re expecting anyone else but I wasn’t actually expecting anyone at all in the first place, which is how it works. If that booth’s emptying out, I figure there are more people incoming.”

Cass rolls her eyes but doesn’t speak, her mouth full of Nate’s peanut butter club sandwich.

As soon as Kim finishes cleaning the table, Nate nudges Cass, and they all pick up their things to move into the booth. There’s plenty of room to spread out, and Cass slides all the way down to the end, leaving space between her and Nate.

“So,” Nate asks. “Who do you hate yourself for trusting?”

Cass holds out another of her toasted sandwich triangles, and Nate silently passes her another quarter of his club sandwich in return. “You, obviously,” she says, before taking a bite. “I don’t trust people easily.”

“But you do trust me,” Nates says. One hand on his heart, he smiles at her. “I’m honored.”

“I’m going to throw chips at you soon.” Cass brandishes her piece of sandwich, and Nate laughs.

He stops mid-motion as he turns away, then lifts a hand, waving as he slides further down the bench and closer to Cass. He makes enough room for Mac to slide in, but Carolyn lingers at the end to kiss Serina.

“I’ll come by later or if you’re still here when my shift ends we can, I don’t know, go somewhere else then,” Serina says. She leans up on her toes and kisses Carolyn’s forehead. “Eat some real food. You’ve been buried in the library so much you’re going to turn into a book.”

“I’ve been eating,” Carolyn protests. “I swear I have, but Pawel—” She glances at Mac. “We should bring home something for Pawel. He’s—”

“He ate an apple at breakfast,” Seth comments.

Nikolai thinks that was his whole breakfast. Sort of. “I saw him eating a bowl of cereal a while after that. He’s drinking a lot of coffee. And he eats granola bars. If you put one next to him, it’s gone when you come back. What he’s not doing is sleeping.”

“I tried to stop in and he threw me out and told me you were here,” Mac grumbles. “I bumped into Carolyn on the way over. He needs to take care of himself. He’s no good if he’s so worn out he passes out.”

“I think he’s too grouchy to let go,” Seth says.

“Like a toddler,” Mac insists. “He’s like a toddler who doesn’t want to miss anything and won’t nap.”

Serina gently pushes Carolyn onto the bench. “I have to go work.” She wiggles her fingers at Nate. “See you when your break is over,” she calls out to him, and he lifts a hand to wave back.

Nikolai watches Cass as Mac and Carolyn settle in. She doesn’t tell them to leave, but she doesn’t seem welcoming either, focusing instead on her salad and her remaining toasted sandwich triangles. Mac reaches past Nate to steal a chip from Cass’s plate. Carolyn pulls a laptop out of her bag and opens it up along with a dark purple notebook.

“I have information,” Carolyn says. She looks at the others, frowning slightly. “Not that we came here to meet. We need to order food. But since some of us are together, I thought I could catch you up.”

“Pawel is there every second of the day, but he’s not actually telling us anything. So yes, please, talk to us.” Seth makes a go on motion. “Have you made any progress on the Ritual?”

“Pawel’s still looking into it, but I don’t think the original ritual can be reversed. Not as it was.” Carolyn’s fingers move quickly over her keyboard, then slow as she finds what she’s looking for. “According to what we’ve learned, I think that if we tried to reverse what was done, we might destroy the Split completely, but that could backfire and either destroy all the Shadows—effectively committing genocide against an entire Lineage of Talented humans—or it might end up encouraging another global Emergence, and consume more Talents with vestigial Shadowwalker blood while also pushing them into the Dreamscape. If we close our world, that means we are effectively destroying lives and sending them to other worlds to wreak havoc.”

“That’s not an ideal solution,” Cass mutters dryly.

“Exactly,” Mac replies. She steals another chip, easily dodging as Cass swats at her hand. “Which is why reversing the Ritual is off the table for now. But Pawel’s desperately researching a different Ritual and making plans that don’t involve sleep.”

Carolyn scrolls through her document, frowning as she reads something on the screen in front of her.

“I’m half afraid to ask, but what kind of Ritual is he considering that won’t end up with us all turning into our inner Shadowwalker and succumbing to the dark side?” Cass asks sharply.

“We need a place—or rather several places—where the liminal spaces between reality and the Dreamscape are weak.” Carolyn touches her screen as she reads from it. “The idea is to create a Ritual that transcends this one world. If we have the worlds in contact when we work against the Split, that should protect us. Them.” She motions as if to indicate unseen Shadowwalkers.

Which is exactly what Nikolai had thought they’d been talking about, only this seems a bit more  specific. “What about the Benford house?” Nikolai asks. “The Berman place here. We could feel it in our world, before it was cleansed, and here it hasn’t been touched.”

“Would it end up with you dragging us all into the Dreamscape?” Cass asks. Nate gives her a confused look, and Cass points at Carolyn. “When she brought that Shadowwalker back. She dragged everyone into the Dreamscape with her somehow.”

“That was Mattie’s crossover, and has nothing to do with this,” Carolyn replies. She closes her laptop with a soft thunk and crosses her hands on top of it. “It was a unique situation that I think was caused by her soul being so close to the reality and my own Talent still being in the process of Emerging. Not to mention Del’s presence and our history.”

“I think that if you’re looking for somewhere that blurs the line, that’s probably a good place.” Mac’s words nudge the conversation away from Cass and Carolyn glaring at each other. “You think it’s a liminal space?”

“It’s close to the Dreamscape,” Carolyn agrees. “It was close enough that Del and I were able to get us there accidentally. Do you think the cleansing of the Benford place would mean it’s not as close now?”

“You know what happened to the wards,” Nikolai reminds her. “Everything kept coming back to that one place, and I think that points to it being exactly the kind of place Pawel’s looking for. I’ve been to the Berman house here—”

“So have I,” Carolyn says softly.

“Then you’ve been to both, too. You know what I mean. They aren’t the same, but they correlate,” Nikolai says. “Alia won’t like the risk, but I think Val could be persuaded. The Alia and Val of our world,” he amends, because now there’s a Valentine here, too, and talking about them is potentially confusing. “I don’t know what Alia here would think about it, and it’s probably not something Valentine really gets to talk about. It’s not her home.”

“The Alia of this world isn’t a fan of magic,” Mac admits.

“But she’s getting better.” Carolyn closes her laptop, opens the notebook instead. She shows a page with cards drawn on it, and neatly penned writing beneath. “She actually came to me for a reading a couple of months ago, and I told her to start a revolution. Which is exactly what seems to be happening.”

Mac makes a hmm sort of noise and steals another one of Cass’s chips.

“I actually need to get back to work.” Nate slides his plate in front of Mac, the sandwich gone but a pile of crispy chips still remaining. “Let me out, then you can finish my chips. Leave Cass’s alone.”

Mac and Carolyn slide out to let him go, but Carolyn doesn’t manage to sit down again before her phone sings out. She looks at the number, lips pressed together as she silences it. “I’ve got to go,” she says, shoving her laptop and notebook back in the bag. “I’ll get something to eat later.”

“Want me to bring something back to the house for you?” Mac offers as Carolyn is already walking away.

“Actually, yeah, that’d be great. I just need to—” She stops several steps from the table, turning back to say, “Make Nikolai and Seth take something home for Pawel.”

“If he’s eating granola bars he’ll eat whatever they put out, probably, yes,” Mac agrees.

“And tell Serina that I—”

“Had to go. She’s right there,” Cass points. “Kiss her on your way out. I’m sure she gets it.”

“She probably doesn’t really get it,” Mac murmurs as Carolyn catches Serina and kisses her cheek on the way by. “Serina’s kind of swept up in this because Carolyn is, but she hasn’t really been a part of it. It’s all happening around her. Alaric and Nikita are on her floor. She’s got Carolyn. But she’s not Talented and she just kind of goes with the flow.”

“But she’s there for Carolyn,” Seth says. “Right? Sometimes when one person’s the raging river of chaos, it’s good that the other one’s the stable rock.”

Nikolai reaches under the table to slide his hand over Seth’s knee in silent thanks for being his rock. “Are you saying I dragged you into this?”

“You are the Dreamwalker who dismantled wards so badly that you not only got us thrown out of Havenhill, we left the world entirely,” Seth says. The sharp words are softened by a fond smile, and Nikolai can’t resist stealing a kiss.

“Is that what I look like?” Cass murmurs.

“All the time,” Mac whispers back. “Only you tend to look even more like you’re going to jump Dax any second. What I’d like to know, though, is when you and Nate started trading food like an old married couple?”

Cass blinks. “You stole my chips, not him.”

They’re distracted and it’s a perfect time to steal another kiss that tastes of blueberry crêpe and bittersweet chocolate. While Cass and Mac bicker and laugh in the background, Nikolai can just enjoy the moment here with Seth.

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[nifflersfancy]

Runaway Groom - Chapter 5 (Consider It Done, You Wanton Sex Goddess)

Read it here on AO3!

Here’s Part 4 (Chapter 4 - Like I Would Grace Your Brothel With My Presence),  Part 3 (Chapter 3 - Speaking of Bastards), Part 2 (Chapter 2 - Listening To Pink Floyd Alone) and Part 1 (Chapter 1 - And I Just Want A Million Pounds)!

"I can't believe you're moving out, Pete." James said with an amused smile and an arm wrapped around Lily's shoulders. They were all helping out in Remus and Peter's flat, helping Peter pack his stuff. He had only announced to them about an hour ago that he was moving and had apparently already found a new flat. thankfully, it was literally across the street. His flat would be visible from James and Lily's front room. "Well, you know... with Remus about to have a kid... I want him to be able to have as much room as possible." Peter explained as he got sheets, blankets and towels from their airing cupboard, folding them neatly in a box. "The baby will only be with me for half the week. I'll have him for Friday, Saturday and Sunday and then Fleur and Tonks will have him for the rest of the week." Remus explained for what seemed like the billionth time. "Besides, if anyone should be moving, it should be me. I'm the one that's changing things." "No, this was your flat to begin with. I'll be fine. This is what's best for everyone." Peter said, sending Remus a gentle smile. But Sirius wasn't having any of it. "Cut the shit, Pete. You hate kids and we all know it." He scoffed, although there was no bite behind his words and he was smirking fondly at the shorter man. "Alright, fine. Look, I love you, Remus. Really, I do. But I cannot handle that." He sighed, which only caused Remus to chuckle more. 

"I understand, mate. Don't worry about it." He comforted, placing a hand on his shoulder. Peter grinned sheepishly back and patted Remus' hand before they all resumed their packing.

"When do you get the keys to your new place?" James questioned, writing "KITCHEN SHIT" on a box in sharpie. It was a small box and mainly contained a bunch of novelty mugs and fridge magnets. 

"Well, the landlord's just repainting everything and he said that he should be done by Friday, maybe a bit sooner." Peter explained with a shrug. "You guys better not shut me out when I move out." Peter warned, "Why would we shut you out, Petey?" Lily asked with a frown, able to see that this was actually a concern for Peter. "Well, James won't get cut out, he's the glue that holds us all together. It won't be Lily, she and James are together. It won't be Sirius, he went to school with you two and lives with you and it won't be Remus because he lives across the hall. I'm left right out." Peter huffed with a laugh, although they could all see that it was forced. "Okay, that is ridiculous. If anyone's going to be shut out, it's James. Everyone knows that Lily and I are soulmates. We've just got to wait for James to die under suspicious circumstances, leaving all of his money to Lily and then Lily and I will run off into the sunset leaving the both of you behind. If anything, James is the problem." It was ridiculous but had the desired effect of making Peter laugh. "You won't be cut out, Pete." Remus comforted, knowing that whilst it was great to make him laugh, it was only a temporary fix and he would need the reassurance that he was important to them. "We all need each other. It wouldn't be the same without one of us. Apart from James." Remus teased, grinning at James, who had been pouting.

"Right, if we're done hating on James..." James began, voice daring anyone to make another dig at him. There was no real bite behind it though. "Why don't we take a break? I can whip us up some lunch." He offered.

"You're such a mother hen." Sirius scoffed, although he stood up from where he had been lounging on the sofa. He had been at the bar until 4am the night before and was exhausted but had insisted on helping. He had packed half of a box and then given up and laid down on the sofa, occasionally taking part in conversation.

"So Sirius doesn't want any food, does anyone else?" James questioned, laughing as Sirius threw a cushion at him. "Stop it, you two!" Lily yelled sternly before a pillow war could break out. "Yes, mother." Sirius scoffed, although he did as he was told. A smile came to his lips as Remus stood and reached a hand out to him. Sirius took it and allowed himself to be pulled up, giving Remus' hand a squeeze to say thank you.

The five of them then headed over to James, Lily and Sirius’ flat for some lunch and a short break.

---

“I can’t believe he’s really gone.” Remus sighed, not turning around from he was sat on the sofa. It was this ugly worn out yellow sofa with turquoise pillows on it that he and Peter had gotten when they had first moved in together. They had both been short of money and someone a few streets away had advertised it as free so they had gotten it. They had another sofa now and an armchair but they hadn’t had it in them to throw the old one away. “It just… I feel guilty, you know? I should’ve been the one to go.” He didn’t need to turn around to know that Sirius was there.

The other lad took a seat next to him, sitting much closer than was usual for two friends. “Don’t be like that. He wouldn’t have moved if he didn’t want to. But hey, you can do what you want now! You could get a dog or turn Pete’s room into whatever you want until the baby’s here. Maybe a guest room… Or a game room.” Sirius suggested, hoping to cheer him up.

It didn’t work.

“Hey, come on, let’s not dwell on it. Peter will be over later. We’re all going out for drinks, remember?” Sirius attempted to try and cheer him up again. “Come on, let’s put a film on.” He prompted, pulling his phone from his pocket and connecting it to the television, getting Netflix up. “Why don’t we watch Bridget Jones?” Sirius suggested, knowing that it was Remus’ favourite film. He frowned when Remus only shrugged.

Not willing to admit defeat yet, Sirius put them film on and cuddled up into Remus’ side, draping a blanket over them. Remus usually would have cuddled Sirius back, wrapping an arm around him and getting more comfortable, he stayed completely still. Tense. Lost in thought.

“That’s going to be me soon, isn’t it?” Remus sighed, a while later. He still hadn’t relaxed but had been watching the film. Sirius frowned and looked up at him, silently questioning what he meant.

“That. I’m going to be old single and surrounded by smug married couples. In a job that’s boring, my life falling apart. Except I’ll have a kid that I hardly get to see.” He sighed. Sirius wasn’t entirely sure where this was coming from. He guessed that Remus was just feeling lonely and sorry for himself now that Peter was gone. Sirius sat up properly, wanting to give this conversation his full attention.

“Remus, you know that that isn’t the case at all.” Sirius began but Remus soon cut him off.

“It is though! James and Lily are going to get engaged soon, guaranteed! And you know that soon Pete’s gonna find a girl and settle down. He can do a lot more now that he isn’t here. And then you’ll find someone so it will just be me…”

“Remus-” Sirius began but was cut off again by Remus standing up abruptly, walking towards his bedroom before Sirius could do anything.

“Look, I think I’m gonna go and just… I don’t know… Lie down or… Or get some marking and planning done. I… Feel free to finish watching the film. Tell the others that I won’t be going for drinks tonight.” The bedroom door was shut and locked before Sirius could say anymore. Sirius stood up with a deep frown on his face but a box on the floor caught his eye.

Still frowning, Sirius approached it, wondering what Peter had left behind. But he didn’t even bother to check it when the first thing he pulled out was a bundle of blue string. His eyes lit up and he placed it on the counter and pulled out his phone, beginning to text Lily.

Lils! I need your help. Urgent! Are you still stopping at asda on your way home?

In asda now, why? What have you and James done now?

Nothing! I’m not even with James! Can you grab some stuff for me whilst you’re there? It’s to cheer Remus up.

Depends on what it is… I don’t think I want to know…

Get your head out of the damn gutter, Evans. Look, all I need are leeks, veal stock, potatoes, garlic and marmalade.

Are you trying to kill Remus? What the fuck are you even trying to make?

Omg

I just realised

I don’t know what’s sadder - the fact that you’re making that for Remus or the fact that I can guess what you’re making

Consider it done, you wanton sex goddess.

I hate you

Thanks, Lils

Don’t mention it

---

Almost three hours later, Sirius knocked on Remus’ door. “Remus? Can you come out here?”

“You’re still here?!”

Sirius couldn’t help chuckling at Remus answer, although he was surprised that Remus hadn’t heard him crashing around in the kitchen. As he suspected, Remus’ curiosity got the better of him and he soon left his room, still frowning.

“Sirius, I’m sorry but I’m really not in the mood. Just go out without me.” Remus said, sounding genuinely apologetic and guilty but Sirius merely grinned at him.

“That’s alright, the others left about twenty minutes ago. But I have been busy.” Sirius announced dramatically, taking Remus’ hand and pulling him out of his bedroom entirely and into the kitchen, ignoring his protests.

“Really, I was in the middle of-” He was saying but froze as he noticed the meal that had been laid out on the table. “Christ, is that blue soup?” He breathed, causing Sirius’ grin to widen. He was practically bouncing on the spot.

“Yep. Blue soup to start, omelette for a main and then marmalade for dessert.”

“Sirius, this is... “

“Delicious? I know, Now come on, eat.” Sirius encouraged, pulling Remus’ chair out for him and then pushing him in as he sat. Remus laughed but did as he was told and found that the soup actually wasn’t bad.

“Sirius?” Sirius hummed as he ate his blue soup to show that he was listening. “Why did you do all of this?”

“Well, you know me. I’m a terrible disaster with a posh voice and a bad character.” Sirius quoted, winking at Remus before he went back to his food but Remus wasn’t having any of it and he stood, moving to kneel beside Sirius. “I need you, Remus. You’re the only one that can save me.” He continued to quote, now turning his attention to Remus, putting his spoon down. “I… Remus…”

Remus cut him off yet again. Under any other circumstances, Sirius would have protested and made a whole show and dance of it, telling Remus to stop. It really was rude. But how could he possibly do anything when Remus’ lips were finally pressed against his?

He kissed back eagerly but couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, turning in his chair to thread his fingers through Remus’ hair.

[To anyone that hasn’t seen Bridget Jones and doesn’t get those references, I’m sorry. Well, sorry for you. You should go and watch it. Like right now. Watch it and you won’t regret it! But yay, they finally kissed! I very nearly just gave up on this and just did like one more chapter and left it at that but my wonderful wonderful friend @holy-shit-its-wolfstar convinced me otherwise so here is another chapter. I have a few more things planned for this fic but if people aren’t interested in it and aren’t reading and commenting and stuff then I may not continue it. So if you are enjoying it and want to see more, please reblog and like and stuff because it’s super discouraging when you post a new chapter or fic and no one interacts/cares! This has not been checked as usual so please, if you see any mistakes, please nicely let me know about them! Requests are still open on my tumblr!

Tagging: @rosielupin @nagemeikenu @grey-mae @blitheringmcgonagall

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates!

[fayn3ko]

Hey! Umm... Just wanted to ask if you have a list of easy to make (maybe cheap?) vegan dishes? Sorry to ask you, the internet's too confusing and you seem helpful!

Hey :) Dont worry, I’m glad whenever someone asks me for anything! Actually I thought about posting here what kind of dishes I do, bc I like to try out things and to cook and maybe someone would like to try the same. I don’t really have a list though, but I can list some things I or my sister cook:

- Fire potatoes (that’s how we know it) - You peel and cut potatoes and put them into a pan (they come first and have to roast a bit so they become soft) together with tomatoe sauce and veggies you like - we use mostly corn, mushrooms, onion and sprouts, in general also don’t forget to use spices greatly! Here I would recommend chili as well

- Chickpea-coconut-curry - really simple and really cheap! You only need a can of chickpeas (alternatively you can use potatoes, onions and carrots), coconut milk and dismembered tomatoes, put it together into a big pan or pot and spice it good with the basics and a lot of curry. Of course, don’t forget rice - basmati rice is my fave.

- Oven potatoes - You wash and cut Potatoes into slices and coat (I drown them into a bowl) them into oil (I recommend a more healthy oil like nut, olive oil or, I use rape oil (not sure if its really called like that)) with many spices - salt, chili, pepper, cumin, paprika, ginger, caraway seed and I cut a garlic toe as well, around 1 hour into the oven and serving with sauces - a spicy tomatoe sauce with a hint of (soya) cream or/and a soya sour cream

- Chili sin carne - thats something known, but instead of meat you use zucchini and/or tofu - means, you roast zucchini, mushrooms, onions and tofu (either you buy spiced tofu or you use soy sauce while roasting it) and put it into a pot with a can of sieved and dismembered tomatoes together with corn, kidney beans and a bit garlic and let it cook a bit

- Glass noodles - my sisters likes to cook it, you just need glass noodles (asian, we can buy a package for 50 cent), tomatoe sauce, tofu and paprika. Roast the tofu and Cook the noddles (~3 min) and put them into a pan, add some tomatoe sauce and the cut paprika and roast it a while, don’t forget the soy sauce

- Potatoe soup - okay I love potatoes and this is simple and tastes so good, just cook potatoes and carrots in veggie broth , roast mushrooms and onions, put all together and add leek, I use a hand mixer to shred it but not too much, so its mostly the creamy soup but with pieces, add more leek and a bit cream, don’t forget spices like tumeric and majoram, they make the good ‘tater taste

- Porridge (oatmeal) - a popular vegan meal, perfect for in between or breakfast, there are many different versions, either you cook a plant milk and put oat into it, eat it warm together with apples and cinnamon or you put milk and the oat into a cup etc and let it over the night in the fridge, eat it either cold or make it warm - I like to use soy milk, oat, chocolate cornflakes (vegan, some cheap normal ones are just coincidentally vegan), a bit chia seeds and coconut rasp and sometimes with fruit like banana or cheeries, and I make it warm in a microwave

Cooking vegan can be so much cheaper than normal, unlike the clichees say. The smoked tofu I buy costs 1,79€, thats less than a package of salmon ham.  Look for veggies and fruits of the season, rice, noodles and potatoes give you so much and don’t cost a lot. The most important are spices, get a little collection and everything you cook can taste delicious. It’s just about trying out and diversity. Tbh I don’t really eat any of the meat or fast food alternatives.

[imsfire2]

Flower list - Jasmine, primrose, daffodil?

Hello there!

JASMINE: What color looks best on you?

Blue, I think.  Pretty much all shades from navy to sky blue and from violet-y to teal-y to brilliant royal blue.  Give me all the blues!

PRIMROSE: Favorite kind of soup?

Gods, I love soup.  I really can’t chose.  I love a chunky minestrone type with beans and lots of veggies in it, I love a really classic leek-and-potato made with unsalted French butter and plenty of pepper, I love a good spicy dhal, I love the glutinous comforting gooiness of Heinz classic Cream of Mushroom, I love a nice home-made hot-and-sour broth with veg and rice noodles and tofu bits and lots of fresh coriander…

DAFFODIL: What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received?

I’m going to be hopelessly honest, and say money, when I was very hard-up.  Having someone give me a decent sum of money and trust me to spend it on what I most needed meant a hell of a lot at the time.

But that isn’t very interesting! 

I’ve had some pretty uninspired experiences with workplace Secret Santa exchanges and have come to dread them, but I remember just once opening my very small Secret Santa gift and finding an absolutely gorgeous pair of blue-green glass earrings which I fell instantly in love with.  I never did find out which of my colleagues had chosen them, but whoever it was, they’d paid enough attention to my style to hit on the perfect pair, and I appreciated the care they’d taken so much!

Thank you for asking!

[follow-the-yarn-blog]

Yesterday I only got to do a little bit of cooking as I was busy with housework and things. However I felt I needed to try & get the hang of pickled radishes and making sauerkraut so popped to local veg shop for radishes & cabbage. I really wanted to pickle the radishes in red wine vinegar to give them that bright pink colour that I love to see when others do it. They are now in my cupboard pickling away, I’m going to be burping the sauerkraut daily until I leave to visit family (could I get away with asking a friend to look after my sauerkraut whilst I’m away do you reckon? Someone may need to burp it :S ) I really put a lot of thought into this, lots of intention of what I can do with these once made

After that I made my soup for this week’s office lunches. It was Broccoli & Stilton (that includes leeks, celery, onions and potatoes too). The amount I made was enough for 8 portions, one of which I ate last night and two of which are in my freezer. This soup is to be nice and hearty and warming, giving me some energy to continue through the rest of the work day, and yet still keep me grounded (potatoes and onions grow under ground, connected to earth after all). Apart from the high fat content of stilton the ingredients for this soup are healthy as it consists of vegetables, stock, but of course that saturated fats Stilton. Broccoli and leeks (yes, there’s a leek in here) are pretty darn good for you after all :)

After the pickling and cooking I hung up my apron and felt like going to bed almost immediately. I felt wiped out! I finished my drink and went to bed... and feel asleep almost immediately!

[islandpcosjourney]

Day 23 – Autumn ’21 challenge

9th November 2021

Oh my legs are hurting today! Clearly the weights & planks yesterday worked their magic! I’m not a big fan of exercise, never have been BUT I have enjoyed doing the fitness classes during the last year. I think because it’s with people I know, that helps keep it fun. I’ve also been increasing in energy so as it gets easier to exercise, I can push myself more. I was never able to do that before because no matter how much I pushed myself, I barely saw results. I’ve been able to increase my weights and not have pain for more than a day after which is very satisfying. I know that the pain is a sign that I worked hard and it gives me encouragement to push the same or more the next time.

Today has been a difficult day in some respects but by just putting on my favourite colour, a good pair of harris tweed shoes and heading off to work to simply “keep going”, it’s a way of moving forward when I could be just standing still. I’ve had many work tasks to get on with, filling my day, distracting me from troubles – poochie helps with that too of course.

I saw this on a FB friend’s post and it resonated with me. I could’ve done with a hug today. Hugs cure everything, or so my husband says. He’s right. Oh dear, did I just admit that?! Watching Bake-off tonight and seeing delicious cakes, I could imagine what they tasted like – oh how food/flavours are playing on my mind at the moment! I remember this last week being like this last time. Looking forward to hot food and familiar flavours again. I’m really craving soup! Butternut squash, sweet potato & coconut or cream of tomato or chicken & rice or lentil or leek & potato – all home made & so satisfying. I’ll have to be careful with the likes of the chicken & rice or leek & potato because the white carbs element of them will spike my blood sugars – I could perhaps use brown rice instead but I wouldn’t use my wild rice because the red rice in it always make the water go red/purple so that wouldn’t be such a good look for a chicken & rice soup I don’t imagine! I’ll need to limit the white carb soups for definite. Lentils should be good, the veggie ones are obviously good and the more blended they are the better initially to ease me back into digestion gently. Chunks will have to come later in the process, mind you I don’t have many days before hubby comes home! We’ve already started talking about meals etc and upon realising that I now work late 3 days a week; late enough that it wouldn’t be viable for me to eat at home, those will have to be juicing-only days. I could perhaps have soup on the other couple of evenings, if I felt like it and I’ll definitely be eating at weekends as we have so many social plans booked in.

I can’t believe it’s 6 weeks til Christmas. Where did the year go? Despite the current circumstances, I feel so positive about life going forward, the year ahead and our future together as a family. It’s not always easy to stay positive. It comes and goes but I definitely think I’m more often a positive person than a negative person these days. Someone I only met a few times in 2019 messaged me to share their news that they had also just met their “no longer obese” goal and that’s what it’s about - sharing good news with like-minded people and enjoying our successes, spreading the good messages about what’s worked, the trials and tribulations & inspirations. No matter what, I am trying to help myself and by writing it down, I hope I am helping others too. It’s just a small thing to do but it might make a difference to someone somewhere. We may be in different boats, but we’re all in the same storm.

[zenonaa]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya/Kirigiri Kyouko, Fukawa Touko/Kirigiri Kyouko, Kirigiri Kyouko/Togami Byakuya (Dangan Ronpa) Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko, Kirigiri Kyouko Additional Tags: Togami Kijou, Togami Shinobu - Freeform, Naegi Makoto - Freeform, Yukizome Chisa - Freeform, past Maizono Sayaka/Kirigiri Kyouko, Later chapters are e-rated, mentions of csa, au where despair didn't happen and junko was content, with leaving the fridge open and moving things slightly everyday Summary: Togami hires Kirigiri to solve a mass murder that occurred at his wedding anniversary party. One hitman was apprehended, but he refuses to say a single word, while the other got away. The mastermind could be anyone, but list of suspects is getting shorter, and Kirigiri finds herself learning more about the Togamis than she anticipated.

“Did you sleep well?” asked Kyouko, lifting her gaze from the cup of green tea cradled in her hands. Touko and Byakuya sat opposite her, eating identical breakfasts consisting of egg omelette, salmon, leek and potato miso soup, and salad.

Staff darted about like fireflies. They didn’t seem to be actively watching those at the table, but as soon as anyone indicated that they needed something or had finished eating, somebody would pop up beside them, ready. Currently, Kyouko had barely eaten her breakfast, with only part of her omelette missing and her salmon fillets in the process of being consumed. She intended to eat more, but that could wait. For now, she chewed slowly, focused on Byakuya, waiting for an answer from him.

He swallowed some omelette. Touko blinked blearily and wrinkled her nose, like imitating a bunny rabbit.

“I don’t have any interest in platitudes,” he replied, and with barely a pause to say that, he continued eating.

Kyouko quirked her brow. “It’s a genuine question, Togami-kun. After the shooting, you haven’t wavered in your work... I would understand if the stress had a negative impact on your health.”

Byakuya almost smirked.

“Hmph... A lot of other people would require some kind of recovery period. If you really wish to know, I slept well,” he said with shadows under his eyes at least a month old.

His eyes flitted to one of the four bowls surrounding Kyouko’s plate of salmon fillets. Specifically, the bowl with her omelette, one small slice cut out of it. He trained his gaze on her.

“Is there something wrong with the omelette?” he asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” she replied. “Though, it does taste quite strongly of fish.”

“I noticed that as well. The chef must have used more katsuobushi than usual, but that doesn’t make it inedible,” he said.

Kyouko set down her cup of tea and tackled her soup. This breakfast was a lot bigger than the French style ones, and bigger than she would have liked, but she needed Byakuya in a good mood if she wanted him to consider her invitation for a get-together, so after she finished the soup, she ate all of the omelette.

If she wanted to begin the arduous process of convincing Byakuya to join her for a drink, as per Makoto’s suggestion last night, she needed to get started as soon as possible.

“Togami-kun,” she said. She could do this.

“Hm?” he went, about to take in a forkful of salad.

“I was wondering if you and Touko-san would be interested in joining me for one evening,” she said.

Touko hesitated, then narrowed her eyes.

“Why?” asked Byakuya, studying Kyouko.

“Just for a get-together,” said Kyouko, idly swaying her fork.

“Fine,” said Byakuya, and he picked up his cup of coffee.

“It would be...” Kyouko was midway through stroking her hair with her free hand and froze. “You will?”

She had mentally prepared herself for a week of attempting to persuade Byakuya and Touko, fearing that she might have to resort to bribes or worse, sweet talk, but she seemed to have obtained his approval on the very first morning after her conversation on the phone with Makoto.

“I hate repeating myself,” Byakuya replied. He set down his cup. “Yes. We will join you for a ‘get-together’ at some point. If you ask me again, I will change my answer.”

He lowered his gaze, seeming thoughtful.

“Yes, why not...? It might be pleasant to have some respite,” he added, mostly to himself.

Of everyone in their class back at Hope’s Peak, Byakuya and Touko were definitely in the top five for most asocial. Kyouko would even have gone as far to say that they were in the top two, but she couldn’t have been trailing far behind them. She should have been grateful that she won Byakuya over so easily, and she supposed that part of her was, but her victory was made as bitter as fruit from a terminalia chebula tree by the idea that he might have his own agenda for accepting her request that she didn’t know about yet.

Her grip on her fork stayed firm and her guard stayed up.

“But you will have to wait until the end of the week, as I don’t have any time to fritter away on little get-togethers before then. I’ll be away from the manor entirely until the weekend,” he said.

Though she probably knew about this already, Touko wilted beside him. His hand drifted over to his croissant.

“Tell me, though, how do you plan to entertain us?” he asked Kyouko. He picked up the croissant.

Touko, her hair unrestrained from any braids, fidgeted with a strand of it, also looking at Kyouko.

“... Talk?” suggested Kyouko. “And drink?”

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“You drink, don’t you, Togami-kun? Wine, at least,” she said with a frown.

And they were all over twenty, so they wouldn’t be breaking any laws.

“... I do drink, but sitting around just doing that is rather dull, wouldn’t you agree?” he said. A grin tugged at his lips. “Come to our room on Saturday at six. I have something in mind.”

Ah. He did have his own agenda after all.

After breakfast, Kyouko left the other two to their own devices and set up camp at one of the tables in the Togami Manor Library. Whoever was responsible for the upkeep of this room was as diligent as the hands on a wrist watch. The varnished furnishing and leather armchairs all showed off a sheen of light, and so far, she hadn’t seen any dust on either of the two floors, the spiraling stair rail and not on any of the bookshelves with their compact innards.

She rummaged through the storage room at the back of the Togami Manor Library for the photo albums that Byakuya told her would be there the day before. Her intention with the photographs wasn’t to find anything that would immediately solve the case, but to give her some insight on the victims. See if they appeared with anyone a lot. See if they stopped appearing with anyone a lot. The perpetrators must have had some kind of connection to the Togami Conglomerate or were hired by someone who did. Besides, other than wait for interviews with witnesses, she currently didn’t have much else to do for the case.

Hope’s Peak also had a storage room attached to its library, but it hadn’t had anything worth her attention. One might have expected a place as powerful and influential as Hope’s Peak to have access to top secret files never released to the public, but it didn’t. Well, nothing too secret, like information about a president’s assassination that would only be published thirty years after the event. Kyouko supposed that the school would have to be run by a mastermind who had enveloped the world in despair to get their hands on anything life-changing.

Byakuya’s storage room succeeded Hope’s Peak’s in size and wealth, with shelves stuffed full of files and more boxes littering the floor. After twenty minutes of rummaging, she found a box of photo albums near the back wall. In the album at the top of the pile in the box, on the first page, was a young girl who looked to be related to Byakuya. She shut the album and carried the box over to her table to investigate them in better lighting.

Four albums resided in the box, all black with a bumpy texture. Kyouko took out the album on top of the pile and opened it to the first page again.

The girl stared up at her, wearing a waistcoat and shorts, approximately eleven years old.

On the next double spread of pages, four photographs of the same girl had been tucked into the cellophane, two on each side. Kyouko examined them closer and wondered if she was Shinobu before Shinobu got into an undisclosed accident that cost her an arm and an eye. In one, she sat on a motionless swing. For another, she posed with a violin, and in the third, she was seated on an armchair. Then, with much shorter hair, she stood between a man and a woman that Kyouko recognised to be Byakuya’s parents.

That couldn’t be right. Kyouko narrowed her eyes. Why would Shinobu be in a photograph with Byakuya’s parents? Shinobu and Byakuya didn’t have the same mother. She looked at them again and realised that it was because she mistook the girl for someone else. It wasn’t a young Shinobu, but a young Byakuya. His hair, which passed his shoulders in three of the photographs, was tied back in a ponytail, while in the photograph with his parents, most of it had been cut off.

With his parents, with shorter hair, he seemed fourteen or fifteen.

Kyouko continued through the album, which didn’t take very long. There were a number of gaps, like someone removed photographs for whatever reason, and some contained just empty space on entire pages. By the back page, she concluded that all of these photographs had been taken by a professional. None were candid. She opened her case file and spread out face shots of the victims. This time when she went through the album, she matched the faces together. Ikari and Shiba appeared in a group photo with Byakuya and his father. There were a lot of men that Kyouko didn’t recognise. The other victims didn’t appear at all, which Kyouko didn’t deem too odd, but Osamu had apparently been an old friend of Byakuya’s father, yet he didn’t appear at all.

Before she progressed onto the next album, she got out her phone and snapped a photograph of Ikari and Shiba with Byakuya and his father. Then she set the album aside and continued her investigation.

It soon became clear that all of these albums contained professional photographs or clippings from newspapers, even the few images of a baby who must have been Byakuya. Kyouko wanted to say that they were sent out en masse, hence why they were all so serious, but she couldn’t think who they would go to. As far as she was aware, Byakuya didn’t have any cousins. The photographs of Byakuya printed onto newspaper were easy enough to understand the existence of. They were accompanied by articles detailing one of Byakuya’s achievements.

Like here, he won a chess tournament, and here, he solved a case that had been cold for fifteen years.

After some thought, she figured that the other photographs might have been taken to show off to business partners at dinner parties. Kyouko had the feeling that they weren’t taken with the intention of looking back on cosily as a family unit.

She tapped her fingers against the table. There weren’t nearly as many photographs as she would have liked.

These couldn’t be the only photographs. The only people that Kyouko could think might have more were Byakuya’s mother, Byakuya himself, Touko or Aloysius. Carefully, she piled the albums into their box and returned it to the same spot she got it from. For a while, she stood by the box, her hand tucked under her chin. At least once, all the victims appeared in a photograph with Byakuya. All except Osamu, who didn’t appear at all.

Kyouko eventually left the room.

***

Neither Touko nor Byakuya attended lunch, but Kyouko wasn’t surprised. During breakfast, Byakuya mentioned that he wouldn’t be in the manor until Saturday, and Touko didn’t attend every meal. As Kyouko ate pieces of korokke, which contained carrots and shiitake mushrooms, she went through her options again, still determined to acquire more photographs and insight. With Aloysius and Byakuya absent for the time being, she eliminated them as options, leaving the staff, Touko and Byakuya’s mother.

To call Byakuya’s mother, Kyouko would need to obtain her phone number. His mother didn’t live in the manor, but unlike Aloysius, she wasn’t ill to the best of Kyouko’s knowledge. Or anywhere near as old. Kyouko had his mother’s email address, but Kyouko had so far received no reply other than a brief witness statement.

She ate her korokke quickly and if there had been more on her plate, she would have eaten them too in her distracted haste. Before she tried to get hold of Byakuya’s mother, Kyouko decided to check with Touko in case she had or at least knew where Kyouko could locate other photographs or any personal information about the victims. The latter was unlikely, as Touko mentioned near the beginning of Kyouko’s visit that she didn’t know them particularly well, but it was worth a shot.

Assuming Touko was in her bedroom, Kyouko headed there. However, a knock on the door elicited no response. Neither did a round of them, or another.

Her brow furrowed. She opened the door and poked her head into the room.

There was no one there. Kyouko stayed in the doorway and surveyed the room. A stout, glass bottle caught her attention on the bedside table. It was rust-coloured and marked with a large, white label. It looked like the kind of bottle that medicine came in. She thought back to the conversation that she overheard the previous night.

They might have been sleeping tablets.

Kyouko lingered for a little longer but at the sound of footsteps, which her sensitive hearing let her perceive earlier than most other people, she stepped back and closed the door.

“Are you trying to steal my job?” asked a voice from behind Kyouko.

She widened her eyes and spun around, instinctively positioning her arms into a fighting stance.

A woman with bright orange hair stared at her, armed with a feather duster. More eye catching than her hair was the sky blue dress and pristine apron she wore that screamed ‘housewife’.

“Pardon?” said Kyouko, who hadn’t expected the culprit to arrive so quickly.

The woman lowered the duster and pressed her fists against her hips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you were about to go nosey around Togami-sama’s bedroom.”

Kyouko averted her gaze and scratched behind her ear.

“I was looking for Touko-san,” said Kyouko.

“Oh, do you need her for something?” asked the woman, looking less like she intended to attack Kyouko with her duster. Not much less though.

“You might be able to help me, actually,” said Kyouko. The woman tilted her head to one side. “Do you know where I might find some photo albums? Togami-kun directed me to some in the library’s storage room, but he must have more.”

“What do you want photos of?” asked the woman, shooting an odd look at Kyouko.

“Togami-kun and the victims at the party,” explained Kyouko. “I’m investigating the murders.”

“Oh, I knew that much. Otherwise, I’d have chased you out of the manor.” The woman scrunched her face. “Hm... I haven’t worked here for as long as some other people here, but I would think...”

She looked up at the ceiling and tapped herself on the cheek.

“... Pennyworth,” she then said, fixing her gaze onto Kyouko, and she followed up with a nod of conviction. “He might have some in his room. He’s Togami-sama’s head butler and was assigned to him all the way back when the guy was a baby. But he hasn’t been here since Togami-sama’s anniversary party, and his room is all locked up. Apparently, the whole ordeal brought on some heart problems.”

Her features clouded like a grey morning.

“I can’t blame him after all that happened,” the woman said softly. “Togami-sama’s been worried about him, but he’s too stubborn to admit it. Poor guy has so much on his plate right now.”

Never did Kyouko think that someone would refer to Byakuya as ‘poor’, even if they meant it by a different definition. But still. Kyouko retained this information for later.

The woman’s face hardened and she wagged her duster. “Togami-sama’s mother will probably have some photos. She helped raise Togami-sama. Ask nicely and she might send you what she has.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have her telephone number, would you?” asked Kyouko. “I’d like to talk to her too.”

“I don’t have her number on me, but I could nab it for you,” offered the woman, and then she paused. Her eyes narrowed. “Hey... why do you even need photos anyway? What have they got to do with your investigation?”

Kyouko folded her arms over her chest.

“They might enlighten me on certain things. Please understand that I can’t say much else except Togami-kun has given me permission to see them,” said Kyouko.

Well, he had given permission for the albums in the storage room.

The woman fell for Kyouko’s poker face. “In that case, give me until after dinner, okay? I should come up with something by then. Now...”

She brandished her duster.

“... scat, you!”

And she chased Kyouko down the corridor.

***

Fortunately, the woman spared Kyouko in the next corridor, and they walked off in opposite directions. Unexpectedly helpful though the meeting with the maid was, Kyouko still hadn’t found Touko. Finding her wasn’t so important now that she had the prospect of talking to Byakuya’s mother, but after some hesitation in an empty corridor, she decided that she may as well locate her anyway.

Touko wasn’t in her bedroom, so Kyouko set off to investigate other areas that she knew Touko to spend time in. She checked the dining room and the kitchen, but Touko was nowhere in sight. None of the chefs had seen her either.

Next, she visited the manor library, in case Touko slipped in after Kyouko left.

“Are you here, Touko-san?” Kyouko called out.

Her voice echoed. The only response.

Kyouko searched some more until a different maid gave her directions to Touko’s writing room. She knocked and waited.

Seconds later, the door opened, and a familiar face popped into view with a glare.

“Touko-san,” greeted Kyouko with cool professionalism.

The face in front of her darkened more.

“Bzzt! Wrong answer!” was hissed at Kyouko.

She tensed, noting the long tongue hanging out.

“Ah. It’s you,” said Kyouko. Her chest became a tight cage. With the maid, she had taken on an offensive stance, but here, she went on the defensive. “Genocider Syo.”

“Great deduction skills there, Kirichoo,” said Syo, grinning for a moment. She flicked her tongue, keeping her narrowed eyes on Kyouko. “What the hell are you doing here? No, no. Let me guess.”

Kyouko really would have rather that Syo didn’t. Syo bent over and hitched up her skirt, revealing more of the leg that Kyouko knew she wore a holster of sharp scissors on, which prompted Kyouko to lift her heels off the floor in case she needed to dodge.

Before the holster would come into view, Syo let her skirt fall without showing even a glimpse of leather.

“Ah... That’s right,” mumbled Syo. “I gave them to him.”

“Pardon?” Kyouko’s brow creased.

Syo’s head snapped up, but she didn’t straighten up.

“You shut your face!” Syo snarled. Now she straightened up. She pointed at Kyouko, who nearly crossed her eyes to look at Syo’s finger. “Listen, Sherlock Whore, if you’re here sleeping with our darling behind our backs, I’ll slice up your throat, cut out your uterus and disembowel you and use your intestines for piñata filling.”

Kyouko grimaced.

“None of that will be necessary. I’m here on work-related matters,” said Kyouko, which did nothing to relax Syo’s posture. She paused. “Actually, while you’re here, I would like to speak with you.”

“Huh?” Syo tipped her head to one side and showed her palms. “You turnin’ me in? Where’s my white knight? Did you already shove him into the back of your police car?”

“No. Togami-kun is away on business for a few days. I’m here investigating some murders that occurred at a party.”

“Oh!” Syo jerked her head back. “That! I didn’t do nothing!”

“I’m not ruling out suspects yet, but you are very low on my list,” said Kyouko. “You fronted while most of it happened. I want to ask you a few questions to try to piece together what happened.”

Syo brightened and poked herself in the cheeks with her index fingers. She tossed her head from side to side. “I never thought I’d be questioned as a witness! Why not? It could be fun!”

“Can we go inside?” asked Kyouko, referring to Touko’s writing room.

“It’ll be almost like the real thing!” Syo gushed, grinning widely.

Kyouko slipped past and heard Syo’s loud breathing behind her. Inside Touko’s writing room, bookcases lined up against one of the walls, and stacks of folders and more books made a model city across the floor and on two desks. Touko had mentioned needing a quiet place to write, permitting only Byakuya’s snoring as acceptable noise, so Kyouko gathered that Touko didn’t always write in the one room. A burst of ripe fruit mixed with floral scents entered Kyouko’s nose, too strong to not be artificial.

In total, the room homed three chairs. One was appointed to each desk, and the third, its wooden frame painted white, not varnished like the other two, resided in the opposite corner of the room to which the two desks were either side of. Syo danced around the books and as ungainly as she swerved, she didn’t knock anything over, and she slumped back onto the white chair. Kyouko strode over to one of the chairs by a desk in an unremarkable fashion, turned the chair around and sat down, facing Syo.

“Let’s start with what happened,” said Kyouko. She retrieved a small notepad from the breast pocket of her blouse and pulled a pen out from the spiral rings bounding the pages together. “What’s the first thing that you remember?”

“It was dark,” said Syo, kicking her legs, hands on her lap. “One of the bitches had locked us in a closet and my throat felt rough. I think our body was four years old, but I leave the counting and all that boring maths stuff to Gloomy.”

Kyouko frowned. “I don’t mean your life story. I mean about your anniversary party.”

“You mean their anniversary party,” said Syo, sobering. Her legs became still. “Me and my darling have our own anniversary. Lucky bastard... He gets two sets of presents. Well, he would if I spent any yen on him!”

She held her stomach and laughed that awful witch-laugh of hers.

“So you and Togami-kun...?” said Kyouko, adjusting her hold on her pen.

Syo folded her arms over her chest, uncharacteristically tight-lipped all of a sudden.

“Oi, oi. I thought this was about the murders,” said Syo.

“It was just a question,” replied Kyouko with a shrug. “Usually, you’re more than happy to discuss yourself in relation to Togami-kun.”

“Listen, Kirititty, sex is one thing, but feelings...” Syo pulled a face and slapped on a hostile front. “Listen, you ain’t my type at all! I only care about my white knight, so don’t try and see if I’m available!”

In an anime, a bead of sweat would have sprung onto the back of Kyouko’s head.

“We’re getting sidetracked,” Kyouko said, and she didn’t know why she had let herself get distracted when usually she stayed focused on the task at hand. Whatever. Not every conversation was with a serial killer. “Please describe what happened at the party.”

Syo lolled her head back.

“Everyone was running about and screaming,” she recalled. “There was a dead guy near me. Like, not dying, but like, actually dead. Irreversibly dead. And I was like, what the hell? You know? I searched for my dearest Byakuya-sama but couldn’t find him, though I saw Omaru - ”

Makoto Naegi’s younger sister.

“ - and she was panicking. I grabbed her and lugged her toward an exit, only they’d blocked off all the exits, right? But then we got security up our asses because Gloomy’s married to Byakuya-sama, and we got escorted out. If I was on death row walking to the chamber, it’s exactly how I’d picture it.”

Kyouko jotted this all down. Well, not the comparison at the end, but the rest.

“Is it possible anyone could have escaped during this?” asked Kyouko.

Syo tilted her head to one side and scrunched her face in shrewd thought.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But security kicked in pretty fast, ya know. And all I could think about was seeing my white knight again. I didn’t see him for a few hours, and I was ready to kill someone! People! A whole fucking room! When I pounced on him later, I could have had sex right there and then on the table. If only he hadn’t been so mopey, right?”

“He mentioned being evacuated by his butler,” said Kyouko, nose wrinkled.

“Whatever you say.” Syo gave her nose a quick pick. “I didn’t see them until much later, but it was a big ass hall. My darling is top priority so he’d have been out in seconds, probably.”

Kyouko wrote this down.

“We done now?” asked Syo.

“For now,” said Kyouko.

Syo rocked forward and jumped to her feet. She stretched up her arms and kept them straight as she lowered them.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” said Syo, and once her arms had come all the way down, she relaxed them. “This room is a total dry zone! Seriously, stale bread has more moisture. I need my darling to rejuvenate me!”

She pressed her hands against her cheeks with almost childlike glee and skipped toward the door.

Kyouko lifted a hand. “Togami-kun is away until Saturday.”

That brought Syo to an abrupt stop at the door. Syo slowly turned her head, squinting.

“You serious?” she said. “Your face rarely changes, so I can’t tell if you’re shitting with me or not.”

“I am serious,” said Kyouko. “I even told you this earlier.��

After a few seconds of scrutinising Kyouko’s face, Syo hissed and slapped herself on the thigh.

“Rats! I’ll have to leave a memento in case Gloomy takes over before he returns,” she said, and she bounded out of the room.

When Syo’s footsteps faded out of Kyouko’s hearing, Kyouko heaved out a sigh.

[storiesbybrian]

You Live In A Zoo

Ken was riding alone in the elevator, holding a large black forest cake when he sneezed. He aimed his face away from the cake, but the volume of snot and spit oozing down the elevator’s wood-paneling suggested the cake had not escaped the sneeze’s blast radius. Well, Ken thought. Maybe the cake deserves it for preventing my hands from taking one for the team. So it was unsurprising to turn back and see the white-piped letters reading HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESSICA glistening with effluvia, but it was still dismaying. Ken would have loved to blame the person who insisted that cake boxes, with their thin cardboard and non-biodegradable plastic skylights, were preposterously wasteful, but that ever so environmentally ethical person was the same one who just exposed the cake to his own inner environment. He tried blowing the cake clean, which sent a flagella of mucus he hadn’t realized was dangling from his nose lashing across both Ps, just as the elevator stopped on his in-laws’ floor.

He stepped out and placed the slimy cake on the hallway carpet. Sounds of merriment  streamed from the cracked door of his wife’s childhood home. Sounds of merriment and his father-in-law’s favorite record, Extensions by the Manhattan Transfer. That damn record was going to play on repeat all night. Ken took a tissue from his pocket and poised a corner of it over the cake, hoping to absorb his nose’s unwelcome contribution without disturbing the calligraphy. He caught one substantial gob that way, but a few streaks still glared up at him. Using a different corner of the tissue, he swept these toward the nearest cherries where they could just blend right in.

When the most damning of the evidence was cleared, Ken stuffed the tissue into his back pocket and carried the cake the rest of the way to his mother-in-law’s 70th birthday party. Jessica and Boris’s apartment had five bedrooms and four and a half bathrooms, all centered around a dining room so large, Ken always expected Irish wolfhounds to come running in at dinner time, even though the building was pet-free. Ken was nearly sure he would have hated the art they slapped all over their infinite wallspace even if his in-laws’ rent wasn’t lower than what he and Caroline were paying for a one-bedroom 10 blocks away. But maybe he did feel more brutally assaulted by that economic outrage than he did by the enlarged ads for a French liqueur, the brown, crumbling opera announcements, the braille transcriptions of rap lyrics and poetry by Havel, the portraits of all six members of their immediate family, all those ornate frame corners poking from the mint green walls like dungeon spikes.

“Happy Birthday!” he said loudly enough, he hoped, for his mother-in-law to hear him anywhere in the cavernous apartment. He turned left, ducking under copper whisks and ladles hanging from the kitchen doorway to hand the snot-smeared cake off to his brother-in-law Gene, who ruled the kitchen with a despotism his cooking did not merit. Gene took it with one hand, without looking up from his phone. Caroline was pinned to the living room sofa by two of their nephews. Ken stood at the edge of the room, giving the entire party one more chance to herald his arrival, and maybe give him subtle guidance on who to kiss first, his wife, the birthday girl or scotch. Just in case any of Rebecca’s guests noticed he was there, he imagined them judging him most harshly if he greeted anyone before his wife so he wended his way past Caroline’s siblings and parents’ friends to the skirmish on the couch.

“Hi Uncle Ken!” his nephew Elijah said. “Can I tickle your armpits?”

Ken knew permission didn’t matter so after glancing disgustedly at the cluster of paintings, charcoals and lithographs, united in their celebration of 19th Century Japanese agriculture, he stiff-armed Elijah and leant over to kiss Caroline. He wanted to be able to confide in her about the splash he’d made on her mother’s cake, to have it be their dirty little secret, which made him think of Betsy, a girl he’d known years before getting married who, one winter, dared him to stick his tongue up her nostril, which he did. And while getting his tongue poked by her jagged, salty boogers wasn’t much of an erotic thrill, goddamn it was intimate! But Caroline’s devotion to her mother was too slavish to allow her to conspire, even mildly, against her so, with Elijah swiping away at his underarm and kicking at his shin to get closer, Ken just smiled and told her she looked nice, wondering why breathing in the chopped herring on her breath didn’t feel as intimate as Betsy’s boogers.

Elijah reached a few finger tips to Ken’s armpit. Ken clamped his arm down, trapping Elijah’s wriggling fingers against his ribcage. Ken smirked and said, “Still too thin to win, boy.”

“Uh, Ken?” Gene said, swatting his own torso with a spatula right where Joan Jett’s eyes squinted from his dark denim Meow Mix apron. “May I see you in the kitchen?”

Everyone at the party intoned her own version of, “Uh oh, what’d you do?”

Ken assured Caroline that everything was fine and dragged Elijah toward the kitchen ready to deny everything. Absolutely everything. Just before the utensil stalactites, Ken raised his arm and Elijah ran back to the sofa, stopping briefly to try crying but abandoning the project when no tears sprang forth. In the kitchen, Gene gave Joan Jett a break and pointed his spatula at a Royal Copenhagen gravy boat on a shelf he couldn’t reach.

“Gene,” Ken said.

“Yes, Ken?”

“You know I’m not the tallest one here. I’m not even your tallest family member.”

“Darling,” Gene’s father Boris said, poking a rare nude spot on a wall repeatedly. “I’m hungry.”

Boris tried to maintain deference to his son while also entering his own kitchen and sticking spoonfuls from every pot into his mouth, using a different spoon each time, and leaving it there, until it looked like he was trying to swallow a very fancy bicycle gear. Boris was almost elfin in his slightness, his ribbed turtle neck sagging from the slender limbs of his 4’ 9” frame. But then there were his eyebrows, which Ken believed could hold carnations by their stems.

“Daddy!” Gene said. “How is it?”

“That one’s great, that one’s pretty good, that one’s very good, that one’s too mushy and that one needs salt,” Boris said, extracting the spoon corresponding to each critique separately.

Ken felt like the entertainment value of the family schtick had reached its apex, so he handed Gene the gravy boat and made his way to the bar.

Boris had hired the same catering company that handled Ken and Caroline’s wedding, but only for beverage and waiting service. All of the food was courtesy of Gene, who bravely ignored the disappointment shrink-wrapping every thank you and congratulations his parents’ guests lavished on him. Gene’s menu was modeled on Boris and Rebecca’s first date, when Rebecca’s grandmother had served them beef stroganoff by candlelight on the fire escape of Rebecca’s childhood apartment in Middle Village. In addition to the egg noodles and beef stew, Gene had kasha varnishkes, steamed carrots, roast broccoli, cold potato leek soup, and fried zucchini blossoms stuffed with goat cheese. The shard of blossom batter Boris had hacked off with a spoon edge was what needed salt. Ken had never eaten Rebecca’s cooking, which led him to believe it was bad, and he wondered how Boris finessed deploying gusto on their first date with exiling her from the kitchen for the next 40 years.

“Scotch and soda?” Ken said to the bartender.

“Single malt or blend?” the bartender asked. Ken was slightly perturbed to be delayed by further consideration, but this was a special occasion so maybe Boris had sprung for some of the good stuff.

“Single malt,” he said. “Hold the soda.”

The bartender poured a slug from an oddly shaped bottle of a brand Ken never heard of into a wine glass. Tattooed flames rose above the cuffs of her tuxedo shirt, licking at her palms, making Ken feel warmer.

“Hey,” he said. “Have I seen your band play? At the Mercury Lounge?”

“Nice try,” she said. “But I don’t think so.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ken saw Caroline’s twin brother Tommy watching him get his drink and somehow Ken knew that Tommy had already made the bartender tense about getting hit on.

“No really,” Ken said. “I’m… married, but I do get out to see music pretty often.”

The bartender nodded with all the polite contempt she could contain within the boundaries of professionalism. Ken had his drink and now she’d really like to stop interacting with him. Have a nice day, sir. But Ken felt embarrassed and protected by his connection to the payer of tonight’s bills, so, beneath the shroud of his own bullshit version of decorum, he declared himself the arbiter of when this little chat would be over.

“Drums?” he asked.

“I’m not in a band,” she said. “You don’t recognize me.”

She looked past him to someone else who wanted a drink. Ken turned to see who, hoping it was somebody he didn’t know. In five minutes, he’d secretly ruined the birthday cake and meta-cheated on the birthday girl’s youngest daughter.

“Two red wines please,” Caroline’s sister Gretchen said.

“Hey,” Ken said. “Elijah’s really getting stronger!”

“Yeah,” Gretchen said, taking her wines. “I really wish you’d help me discourage his more violent tendencies, Ken.”

Am I crushing it or what? Ken thought. Well, the scotch was very good. Time to move on to the next exhibit and pay tribute to his mother-in-law.

Rebecca was in a group that included her brother Alan, and her department dean at CUNY. They stood by Boris’s large oil of a barn in Vermont. Ken couldn’t look at the painting without picturing two farmers holding Boris by the ankles so they could paint the barn with his eyebrows.

“No!” Rebecca said to her brother.

“Oh yes,” Uncle Alan said. “Ken, maybe you’ve heard about this.”

“About what? Happy birthday, Rebecca.”

“Thank you, Ken,” she said, extending her cheek to be bussed. Ken never found Rebecca attractive, but her hair was well-coiffed and her jawline was strong and she usually smelled nice. “How’s the cake look?”

“Like a potential fire hazard,” he said to a heartening amount of chuckling. “What am I supposed to settle here?”

“Well, Alan says there was a guy on his flight who was whittling. Whittling! On an airplane. Is that really a thing now?”

“Oh yeah, I have heard something about that,” Ken said. He had not.

“See?” Alan said. “And it was a full-on bowie knife too!”

“Must’ve been a service knife,” Rebecca’s dean said, waiting for his subordinate to laugh at his wit. Rebecca nodded without mirth and Ken tried staring at the dean, daring him to be petty enough to make a note of Rebecca’s defiance, but wary that the dean might mistake his look for a ha ha I’m funnier than you taunt. Someone tapped Ken’s shoulder. It was Tommy, beckoning Ken into the bedroom where he still lived.

“Boys,” Rebecca said. “No vaping!”

Tommy closed the door. Ken had never been able to square Tommy’s bedroom decor with his personality. Floating shelves jutted from one burgundy wall, holding several dozen coffee table books on subjects ranging from wartime photography to arctic wildlife photography, none of which Ken had ever heard Tommy talk about, even when relevant subjects came up in family conversations. The opposite wall was dominated by a wide oak desk that held three monitors across which Bloomberg financial data perpetually ticked. His bed was a stately four-poster that Ken doubted ever saw any action. Tommy sat on it and invited Ken to sit next to him. Ken declined.

“I do have a pen, if you want some,” Tommy said.

“No thanks.”

“So… uh, just thought you should know that the reason Gene called you into the kitchen was to settle a bet we had.”

“Uh huh?”

“Ken,” Tommy said. “You know Caroline tells me everything, right? Like, everything.”

“Well I’m sure there are some-”

“Everything.”

“I see.”

“So, like, my bet with Gene,” Tommy said, now fiddling with the vape pen. “Gene says he can smell how long it’s been since somebody’s… you know. Had sex?”

“Um, for just how much was this bet?”

“Five bucks.”

“Ooh, high stakes!”

“Hey, you can make fun of me if you want Ken, but has it ever occurred to you that I might be helpful to you here?”

Ken tried to leave the room and Tommy yanked him by the arm til he was sitting on Tommy’s plaid comforter with the edge of a sham pillow under one buttock, Tommy’s weight by the foot of the bed seesawing Ken till his feet didn’t reach the floor. And sure enough, Caroline had told Tommy everything, everything being that Ken had not had sex with his wife in several months, and that she correctly surmised it was because he had gotten so tired of being the sole initiator of sexual contact with his wife that he had vowed to leave his balls in her court until she was ready to pick them up and play with them of her own volition. And even with Tommy’s spin on the state of his sister’s marriage, it all sounded pretty reasonable to Ken. What Ken was afraid to say, to Caroline or Tommy or anyone, was that he just wanted to be wanted, that he was tired of doing all of the wanting, so tired, and ashamed of how unwanted he felt and further ashamed of how hopeful he was that his wife’s overweight twin brother might actually be able to help him out here. So they talked some more. And vaped. Ken was about to ask Tommy to put on some music when his phone chirped. It was a text from Caroline reading CAKE!

Ken and Tommy emerged from the bedroom to see everyone gathered and facing Boris and Rebecca. Boris signaled Gene to turn down the music mid-Coo Coo U. Ken stood next to Caroline, trying not to seethe at her for exposing his private foibles to what now felt like the entire party. Did everyone around them seem extra gentle and sympathetic with him? Or was that Tommy’s pot?

Boris gave a bland speech about how thrilling it was to share this milestone with so many of his and Rebecca’s nearest and dearest. Ken estimated the toast was about 15% too long, but Rebecca managed to keep her smile looking genuine the whole time.

Ken went off to use Gretchen’s bathroom, because it was the only one with a door that shut completely. Gretchen’s room was being used for changing and storage by the caterers. Among the various duffels and totes was one Hello Kitty backpack scaled with buttons featuring ostensibly rebellious slogans: Save the Rainforests, They/Them, Fuck White Supremacy, Stop All Wars, People Over Profits, Health Care Is A Right, Leave Britney Alone, Oil Kills and more, plus a few that were just pictures or symbols. Ken used his toe to undo the backpack’s zipper, and then the same toe to widen his view into the backpacks contents, just enough to see the scarred blonde wood of a few drumsticks. He tried his best to not feel ashamed by how good this vindication felt. But with that much joy for a triumph that frivolous, the shame could not be kept at bay. Out of fury at the flame-wristed bartender for her role in his present difficulties, he did not bother to rezip her backpack.

Gene was waiting for him outside of Gretchen’s bathroom.

“Best lock?” he asked, handing Ken a piece of birthday cake.

Ken nodded and took the cake without eating it. They ambled together back to within earshot of the Manhattan Transfer. Ken pretended not to notice Gene’s pretending not to notice the guests smiling more widely over the cake than they had over his fare.

“Saw you talkin’ to Tommy,” he said. “And I dunno what he told you, but if you want the advice of somebody with a more robust love life?”

“You mean you,” Ken said.

Gene stopped walking for a millisecond, as if to warn Ken that he was about to blow his shot at the gems Gene was feeling generous enough to offer. And while he was still hiding how desperate he really was, Ken put enough remorse on his face for Gene to continue.

“You’ve gotta be an animal Ken! You know? Primitive! Find something deep within yourself and just let it out. Rowr! That’s sexy.”

Ken nodded agreeably. Too agreeably, like, give me a medal for being such a good agreer.

“Thanks Gene,” he said. “Here. You can have my cake.”

[coolthingsisee]

Grow a Rapid Response Victory Garden • Lovely Greens

You’ve just decided that it’s time to grow a vegetable garden, and not just any garden, a rapid response victory garden. Here’s how to begin and a guide to crops that will mature in 30, 60, and 90 days.

It was just after five am and I was lying in bed, scrolling the news, Facebook, Twitter, everything. I’m not usually awake this early, but we live in different times. Seemingly overnight, our way of life has changed, and a lot of us are feeling anxious for ourselves, our loved ones, and the future. Then I came across a call for help: “…I wish someone would write an article about plants one could sow NOW that could produce food in the next 30, 45, 60 days.”

I could do that, so I’m up now and answering the call. It’s an entirely understandable question since folks are putting two and two together. Even if you have a healthy supply of food now, what will happen this summer? Will there be food shortages? Will my family go hungry? Maybe it’s time to revive the Victory Garden – to plan for the future, just in case.

Grow your own food

For the moment, supermarkets are not out of food, but I have seen a couple of worrying signs. A health-food shop that I frequent is out of dried foods “for the foreseeable.” I’ve also seen one person reporting that crops are being abandoned in Kenya, though at the time, the country had only a single confirmed case of Coronavirus. It makes me wonder how less-developed places will cope with the virus, and with food production. Could we see imported food quietly disappear from our supermarket shelves? At least for part of this year?

I’m not an alarmist, but I’m sure I’m voicing a thought that many of us share. That’s why starting a vegetable garden now, even if you have zero experience, is something to consider. Even if a cure or vaccine is developed next week, or next month, having those plants in the ground will benefit your health and your table. Growing your own food is good for your physical health, nutrition, and mental clarity. From a psychological perspective, I believe that it will help you feel more secure. It does for me.

Grow homegrown harvests in your back yard, patio, or balcony

Shortage of Seeds

Before we get to what you can grow, I need to announce something else that is worrying. You’re not alone in wanting to grow your own food for the first time –  online seed companies and seed suppliers have been inundated with orders. So much so, that many have closed because they are overwhelmed or sold out of seeds.

If you’re finding it challenging to source seeds online, you should try to get to a physical shop, if you can do so. I’ve not seen any local garden centers sold out of seeds yet, but that may change in the coming weeks. Hardware stores, and sometimes supermarkets will also have a small selection of seeds. You can also ask friends if they have any seeds or plants to share or organize a virtual seed swap. Seeds and plants can be posted or left on door-steps if people are self-isolating.

Dried beans from soup mixes will grow into plants that produce many more beans

Seeds from the Kitchen Cupboard

Some foods in your cupboard are seeds too. You can sow the beans in soup mixes to grow various types of beans. The same goes for dried chickpeas (garbanzo beans), dried peas, and many grains. Even brown rice will germinate and grow if you live in a climate suitable for it.

Many spices are seeds, and some of them will germinate. Coriander seeds will grow coriander plants, known as cilantro in the Americas. Chili seeds will grow chilies, dill seed will grow dill, and so on. If the spice looks like a seed, try to see if they’ll grow by sprinkling a quarter teaspoon of seeds between two damp paper towels. Keep moist and warm, and check on the seeds daily for up to two weeks. If you see little sprouts, then you’re in luck.

Grow three types of potatoes in your victory garden, first early, second early, and main crop. This extends the harvesting season over the entire summer and into autumn.

Grow crops in your Victory Garden

There are probably hundreds of books sharing how to grow vegetables, and I can’t fit it all into just a couple of paragraphs. Just remember that they are living things and will need light, warmth, nutrients, water, shelter, growing supports, and protection from predators and disease. Fruit and vegetables are just like animals – some grow in the tropics, and others live in temperate regions. You can fake those environments by growing crops in greenhouses or hydroponically. Pretty much all the details of gardening fit into these themes.

You should also familiarize yourself with your gardening zone, and which crops grow best in it. I go over zones and the earliest seeds you can sow every year over here.

Feel free to read my pieces on starting a garden, common gardening mistakes, and watch the videos I shared of how I created my allotment vegetable garden and home raised bed garden on YouTube (please subscribe too). Some books that I recommend to start a garden are:

Container gardens can be part of an ordinary garden or used on balconies and patios

Container Gardens

For those who don’t have land to garden, you can grow many crops in large planters and containers. These will need daily watering in spring and summer, but you can place them on virtually any patio, porch, or balcony that gets enough sunlight.

When growing crops in containers, get a bag of good quality organic peat-free compost and mix it with a similar-sized bag of topsoil. Fill the containers, but leave space at the top to lay one to two inches of compost. Sow your seeds or plant directly into the compost. The level of the compost should sit an inch below the lip of the pot or container.

Radishes are among the quickest vegetables to mature

1 Month Crops

Few crops are ready to eat within one month of sowing. The exceptions are radishes, some baby greens, and sprouted seeds. With radishes, sow 1/8th teaspoon seeds weekly for a regular supply. They grow best in spring and autumn and may bolt (become stressed and flower) in the heat of summer.

Most greens need around 45 days to mature, but if it comes down to it, you can eat their small baby leaves after a month. Greens include lettuce, spinach, rocket (arugula), beet leaves, chard, and a few others. If you can eat the leaf of a vegetable when fully grown, you can eat them when they’re baby leaves too.

Sprouting seeds is taking seeds that you would plant, and growing them in a jar with a little moisture. When they’ve grown sprouts with small leaves, you eat them.

Many leafy greens crop can be harvested after two months

2 Month Crops

There’s a lot more choice in vegetables to harvest if you have 45 to 60 days. Most of these include greens, but you’ll also have smaller root vegetables and peas. The trick with some of these crops is to look for varieties advertised as ‘quick-growing’ or ‘quick-maturing’ varieties.

In the world of vegetables, there are types of carrots that take 45 days to mature and others that take all summer to grow. The same can be said for many other types of vegetables.

Plant first early potatoes two weeks before second earlies. That helps spread out the harvesting time.

3 Month Crops

Three months is plenty of time for a lot of our favorite vegetables, and the below will usually mature in that time. Any vegetable that grows big roots or fruits need this extra time and includes tomatoes, summer squash, and early potatoes. Many will need an extra month, so sixteen weeks, if your climate is cool or if the variety grows slowly.

Long growing vegetables

If a vegetable isn’t listed, it may well be one that takes a long time to develop. These include main crop potatoes, pumpkins, garlic, purple sprouting broccoli, chilis, sweet potatoes, sunchokes, parsnips, and leeks. Planning is key to growing a year-round vegetable garden. Make sure you give these plants space and time, and they’ll reward you with homegrown harvests through the autumn and winter.

I’d also recommend investing in fruit trees, fruit bushes (here’s an introduction of all the ones I grow), and perennial vegetables. The latter are vegetables that regrow on their own every year and are often some of the first edibles that I harvest in the garden in spring.

More information on growing vegetables

There’s a wealth of information on growing vegetables in the books I’ve recommended above and online. However, beware of any tips or information that seems too good to be true – it probably is. Viral gardening videos that your aunt shares, seeds for blue strawberries, and the like. Subscribe to food gardeners on YouTube, read, browse kitchen garden ideas on Lovely Greens, call friends and family members who garden, and plan your Victory Garden from there. Good luck and let me know if you have any questions by leaving a comment below.

This content was originally published here.

[royal-writer]

Essie - questionnaire

Just trying to get to know Essie better, ignore me! Will add more later.

1. Does s/he enjoy puzzles?

Not particularly. Even given nothing to do, Essie would probably prefer much anything else.

2. Does s/he enjoy education?

I don’t even know if she had a real education. I’m sure she learned more on her own means. I think she’s pretty neutral on learning. It helps better you but she doesn’t see it as fun but neither does she see it as terrible.

3. What is his/her sexual orientation?

Pansexual Panromantic.

4. Is s/he right-handed, left-handed, or ambidextrous?

Right-handed but ambidextrous casting spells cuz, well, ya almost gotta be..

5. Is s/he fashionable?

Essie don’t give a fuck. She wears what she likes, or wears what is suitable to the weather, or wears shit just to piss people off. So probably not.

6. What is their favorite food(s)?

Okay, here goes: smoked salmon on a bed of greens, herb roast pheasant, venison steak cooked rare to med-rare with roasted potatoes, garlic clam soup, mushroom and leek stew, berry tarts with mint, stuffed trout, pickled duck eggs, sharp cheeses, sunflower seeds, almonds, honeycakes, and she has a preference for drinking spiced ale, orchid wines, and elven made wines that are sweeter and aromatic. I can also see her having a taste for tea, particularly with honey, and sweet or spiced ciders. Maybe some hard spirits in a group atmosphere.

7. Has s/he ever broken a bone?

Nope, not yet at least.

8. Any interests or hobbies?

She enjoys magic, even using it to make kids happy. She enjoys dancing, secretly. Gambling maybe, uh... going on adventures obviously. Will add more if I think of it; she’s lived a life of survival so she probably doesn’t hide many hobbies.

9. Does s/he consider themself organized?

lmao no and she knows that. Ms. Throw-It-All-In-The-Bag.

10. How does s/he handle feeling nauseous?

No food, only liquids. Try laying down. If it doesn’t stop after a while, try walking around slowly in hopes to agitate self enough to just hurl.

11. What is his/her full name?

Essätha Medüza - the last name is a kick on Medusa from mythology.

12. Introvert or extrovert?

She’s a wanna-be-extro. Doesn’t trust others well, but has a desire to fit in and hang with others. At the moment she’s honestly more intro by nature though.

13. Can s/he cook?

Probably okay. Still prone to burning food from time to time lol whoops. But for the most part it’ll be edible, probably just not super tasty.

14. Did s/he have any friends growing up?

Yes! I plan on doing art for some of ‘em eventually.

15. How does s/he react to storms? Being caught in the storm?

Essie likes a good rainfall. Probably doesn’t mind being caught in them, even ‘bad’ storms, so long as it isn’t snow. Too damn cold.

16. Does s/he collect anything?

Nope. Maybe scars. //bricked// Nah because of her lifestyle, she’s not one to gather trinkets or stuff. Necessities and useful stuff only really.

17. Is s/he religious?

lol nope. Doesn’t care for gods or religion or any of that junk.

18. What inspires him/her?

I don’t know... uh, music for dancing. Sunsets and sunrises. The idea that life can get better. Transformation/growing.

19. Do they have a role model?

Maybe her mom, despite not knowing her. Eventually I’m sure she’ll see some of her fellow team members in this way.

20. What’s their favorite joke?

Probably secretly snake puns. Examples: “let me give you a hiss”, “viper that smirk off your face”, “I’ll snake some puns in there”, etc.

21. How would your character describe his/her friends? Lover? Parents?

dnd group companions to be determined.

Opal: (kind stranger) Orange furry cat woman. Seems to follow her own moral code of good which is pure and generous. Pretty kind.

Kraw: (teacher) Bird man of tans, reds, and dark browns/blacks. Grumpy but has a good heart. May try eating you if you’re an animal or can turn into an animal but otherwise nice. Drinker but a sad drinker when he does.

Solace: (ally/best friend) Outgoing, bubbly, considerate reddish-pink tiefling with obsidian eyes and violet blue-toned hair. She’s a rebel but is caring despite her dicey past. Essie considers her a better person than herself.

Phoenix: (aquitaine) Lady crazypants. Charcoal skin with scar-like markings that glow like lava flow when she’s using her powers. Fiery colored eyes and hair. Very much gives a masculine vibe. Will kill you with no regrets. Something’s wrong with her but she is willing to work with others for her own gain which is relatable.

Bretella: (frienemy) Considered a trustworthy ally. Green skinned redhead with golden eyes. Tends to weary flashy or seductive clothing. Will bail you out of a situation but patronize you later. High self-esteem.

Miz'ri: (enemy) A lost friend. Light grey skin, white hair, pale lilac eyes. Essie wishes that the millions of things that went wrong between them hadn’t. She hopes there’s still godo to be found in Miz’ri. A sad, broken soul.

Hepsiba: (mother) Truly the most beautiful person in existence. Warm, loving, considerate, gentle, sweet, gorgeous. Hepsiba is gone now, but her memory is still a vibrant light of warmth. Essie probably looks to the stars and likes to think her mom is up there, staring down at her. Mom was an auburn-skinned beauty with brown eyes.

Tyfiell: (father) Never met him. Mom spoke well of him, but Essie doesn’t think well of someone who ditched her mom. Said to be a dark-skinned Yuan-Ti Pureblood with dark eyes and a wicked smile. Rogue class.

22. How would s/he describe themself?

LOL nothing good unfortunately... She thinks she’s physically ugly due to how she was treated by others when she was young. She doesn’t find redeemable qualities in herself too much, either. Resident snake lady would probably say “I don’t got time for this” if asked. “I’m a scaly Yuan-Ti woman, hi.”

23. What is his/her birthday? Star sign? Do they fit it?

April 12, which would make their zodiac the Aries. It sounds semi fitting, as they’re labeled as ‘courageous, confident, short-tempered, and impulsive’ but like anything else, there’s some manners that aren’t perfectly fitting (optimistic, aggressive, etc).

24. How good is s/he at mending clothes?

She doesn’t know the Mending ability lol! Kidding aside, I don’t believe it’s her hobby or anything. I mean, if you look at some of her clothes, they’ve got tears and threads pulled free. Probably not.

25. How does s/he react to someone spilling something on them?

Depends on the atmosphere? 90% of the time she’ll realize it’s an accident, jump when it happens, and then request the server or whomever fetch something to help clean up the mess- not impolitely just with some urgency in her tone. She’d probably only have a .1% chance going off an the server because hey, shit happens, but if she’s in a bad mood already she may snap at anyone around she’s unhappy with at the moment.

26. How does s/he react to being approached by law enforcement?

‘Oh shit time to run they’re probably after me’ is her thought processing.

27. Do they paint/draw?

Nah, not really her cup of tea.

28. Does s/he prefer any musical instruments?

Essie can’t play, but she probably enjoys winds and strings for daily life, but the occasionally ‘sick beat’ of a big band of instruments to dance to would be A+.

29. If they had a tumblr, what would their account name be?

venomspikedwine

30. How good are they at keeping an eye on their money? Do they also splurge frequently?

Admittedly, Essatha enjoys hoarding funds. As someone who grew up with little, she’s a bit of a hoarder and is very unlikely to misplace even a copper piece. If she splurges, she’s likely drunk or enjoying a ‘luxury’ she didn’t have much as a child (ex: tarts), or items useful for survival, combat, friends, etc.

31. 3-5 random pieces of trivia about them that doesn’t come up often?

Essie loves music; especially pieces with a soft melody. She grew a garden once. Lastly she has had no real schooling; she’s mostly self-taught or listened in on others or hired other’s to teach her. This might be one of the reasons why she’s a bit of a slow reader.

32. Does s/he prefer dawn or dusk?

She feels more ‘lively’ during dawn but enjoys dusk for the twilight glow, the stars, etc. So both with maybe a slight preference for dusk.

33. Have them describe themself in 3 words!

(no, Essie, you can’t use ‘snake lady’ for 2 words, use adjectives).

confident, misunderstood, bull-headed

34. How would s/he react to someone confessing they have a crush on them?

All the blushing. So much blushing. Open-mouthed like ‘uhh??’ If she doesn’t return the feelings, she’ll probably be really embarrassed. Stuttering as she tries the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. Unless it’s not someone she’s close with, in which case, she’d use their ‘crush’ to her advantage. If it’s someone she has a crush on as well, she’ll blush and look away. Be shy. You’d probably need to convince her to speak or look at you again cuz she’d be like ‘?! they like me? me???’

35. What is his/her favorite scent?

Desserts, rain, the outdoors (especially earthy scents).

36. If they had a Pokemon team, what PKMN would they have?

With ‘starter’: Serperior, Weavile, Houndoom, Phantump, Dragalge, Togetic.

Without ‘starter’: same team, replace Serperior with Kangaskhan.

37. Can s/he sing? act?

She can’t sing well but that won’t stop her when she has the urge. Obviously she can act, or she wouldn’t play people so well lol.

38. Can s/he swim?

Yep!

39. Does s/he drink? Do drugs? Smoke?

Yes she drinks, no she doesn’t do drugs (unless medicines in the d&d count? I don’t know what sort of drugs they have), no she doesn’t smoke.

40. Are they good with children?

Yeah actually! She wants kids to have a happy youth, unlike what she had, so she’s willing to do things to entertain and help kiddos. If a kid cons her, she’d try to even hunt them down purely to see if there’s any way she could help them.

41. What sort of atmosphere does s/he give off?

Depends. Either antisocial or exceptional flirt depending on what’s going on to the average person.

42. Do they believe in any form of afterlife?

Yeah, she thinks there’s an afterlife. What it entails, she doesn’t dare imagine.

43. What’s the first thing s/he does in the morning after waking?

Roll outta bed/sleeping bag and get dressed, think about getting something to drink asap.

44. Who would be his/her voice actor/ress?

Morrigan from Dragon Age, voiced by Claudia Black. Dragon Age: Inquisition seems the best bet, as Morrigan’s voice seems more controlled and less bubbly than Origins. Perhaps Origins though when she’s interacting with Sul?

45. How would you describe his/her aesthetic?

Clothing wise: revealing/sexy. Personal taste: nature, stars, anything that’s just lulling, tranquil, natural to the world...

46. How would s/he react to supernatural/paranormal phenomenons?

Willing to fight a ghost. Probably be spooked at first, but after the first encounter with these sort of creations, she’d probably be okay. Just that first time... “woah let’s punch this ghost” half damage “holy shit you can punch a ghost? Cool. Also magic time becuz wow that didn’t do shit”.

47. How would s/he confess their love to others?

Judging by conversations with Heather, she’d be hecka frustrated. What are feelings. I don’t know what this is. Why do I care about you so much please explain this to me? And once she figures out that it’s love she’s feeling... that explains the confusion, the butterflies in her stomach, the awkward shyness even she couldn’t explain when she reacted to them being nice but... I must now blush... and hide my face...

48. How do they react to being bored?

Time to unbored herself by doing something. Hunting, pestering others, flirting, gambling, anything but sitting there jiggin her leg if she can help it. Restlessness doesn’t fit her.

49. Have they ever been stung by a bee?

Yush.

50. If they had to pick a Disney Princess/Prince, which do they like? Which do they feel most alike? Which do they aspire to be most like?

Essie would probably really like Tiana for her go-getter attitude. She probably feels most like Rapunzel, locked away from the world and badly treated by her ‘caretaker(s)’ (the city she grew up in) but now she’s free and adventuring and seeking her own trues and fulfilling her curiosities. Who she’d probably most aspire to be I guess would be Moana (not qualified as a Disney princess yet, but admirable all the same. Moana went on an adventure, conquered it, found herself, defeated the big bad, etc) or Merida (they share like-characteristics, and Merida didn’t need a man to complete her, though family/friends it reveals are important).

21 Q’s for d&d Chars and OCS, taken from here

1. What influenced or inspired the creation of this character?

First d&d campaign. Kept getting stuck between a handful of races. Finally got down to 4, then 3, then 2. Had to wait and see if Ammy would approve Yuan-Ti Purebloods. Got approved. Suddenly whAM - inspiration. Didn’t want a flat typical ‘evil’ Yuan-Ti. Her background was helpfully inspired by the one I picked- Urchin. I just continued adding tragedy because I’m an asshole.

2. What is your character’s relationship with their family? Family is a word which here refers to biological relatives, close companions, and/or the individual(s) who raised them.

Essie’s only known family was her mother. She was very close with her, sadly, her mom passed when she was young, probably 3-4ish. She never knew her dad. Her relationship with chosen family is positive. Details on ‘chosen’ family will be thought up further later, as I’m confident she’ll come to consider her traveling companions like family.

3. Who is the closest person to them?

Her mum (deceased), and eventually probably Sul and the group. I feel she’ll particularly enjoy Cackle and Adela but we’ll see~

4. What were the conditions surrounding their formative years?

Harsh livin of survival all her life yo. Fighting for food, stealing to get by, learning how to use and deceive people to get things she needed and then eventually, things she wanted.

5. What creature would they like to have as a pet?

Snakes and doggos.

6. Do they have any bad habits?

Does stealing count? Lmao uh, other than that, maybe gambling a bit..

7. Is there anyone they’d die for? Kill for?

Old friends, later their dnd group obviously.

8. Who was their first love?

I’m gonna be cheesy here and say Sulhadur. Mostly because she never really knew what love was anymore until him. Whoops feels-

9. How would this character react to someone confessing their love for them?

^ See up there, I know I answered a question like this already.

10. How old is this character?

Twenty.

11. Are they normally peaceful or aggressive?

Peaceful probably- just leave her be and let her do what she gonna do.

12. How does this character handle stress?

Probably get frustrated. Pull on hair, get loud, vent and rant.

13. Does your character consider themselves lucky?

Hahahahaah- no.

14. What is their favorite holiday?

I... Honestly don’t know? If we’re going by holidays present now, probably Halloween or smth low-key based around family. As for d&d holidays, of those I found, she’d probably prefer Trolltide (a variation on Halloween), and either Feast of the Moon or Feast of the Ancestors.

15. What is the best gift they could receive?

Mom’s love. //bricked// Mom’s ring??? That seems about all at the moment...

16. If they could instantly kill one person in the world without consequence, who would it be?

Probably everyone in their childhood city whoops- or at least someone there that caused her tremendous pain.

17. If they were in possession of a trio of wishes, what would their three wishes be?

Mom to come back to life (probably rejected), happiness (rejected), money (rejected), new clothes, new items to help with spells, idk something to help the dnd group as a whole then.

18. What is their favorite spell or method of attack?

Unknown at the moment. I’ll probably say her Magic Missiles and Acid Splash.

19. What are their guilty pleasures?

Give her desserts!

20. What is something this character is or could be addicted to?

Happiness? Desserts. Yes happiness and desserts sounds about right.

21. Have you actually played this character yet? 

Just started! :D

25 Q’s for your d&d Chars and OCs, taken from here

1. What is this character’s alignment?

Chaotic Neutral

2. What is a notable quote from this character? Alternatively, what is their favorite quote?

No notable quotes yet, just started playing her. Favorite quote would probably be something like ‘only the strong survive’ or ‘a sheep in wolves clothing’.

3. Summarize your character’s backstory with no more than three sentences.

Small innocent snake-child is born to a snake-lady whom has no spouse. She’s raised by her loving mother until she passes away of illness. The remainder of her life has been an uphill battle for survival and equality.

4. Describe your character using a song title.

Snake Charmer. //bricked// oR What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger.

5. Are there any story arcs you would like this character to explore?

ALL

6. What would your character like (or have liked) to do with their life?

They’d like to find happiness. They’d have liked to have a better childhood filled with joy and happiness too, and a healthy mom, and to better herself.

7. Who is your character’s best friend?

Solace technically from her old group. We’ll see what happens in her new group!

8. Who is your character’s worst enemy?

Miz’ri from her old group thus far~

9. Who has, for better or worse, had the most impact on your character’s life?

Thus far, her mother and the people of her childhood city.

10. What is the most badass thing this character has done?

Nothing really yet? Other than survive. Maybe persuaded Lord Hardon- I mean Amon- to chill his nuts.

11. What crime is this character most likely to be convicted of?

Thievery obviously lmao. And being too cute.

12. What meme would you use to describe the character?

Hello Darkness My Old Friend, But That’s None Of My Business, Fuck That Shit I’m Out.

13. Does this character swear frequently?

Probs!

14.What is this character’s relationship with religion or the church?

Fuck that shit I’m out, no thanks!

15. Would this character ever make a deal with a devil or dark spirit?

Under the right circumstances, maybe. But doubtful cuz she ain’t that stupid. Usually. Probably. Unless dire circumstances.

16. Emotion or Logic?

Logic. What are emotion. Plz explain.

17. Soup or Salad?

Soup and stews!

18. What is the character’s favorite Pokémon?

Phantump :’I

19. What Pokémon Go team would they be on?

Team Valor.

20. Is your character currently in love? Is there anyone in love with your character?

No-yes. Eventually.

21. Do you ship your character with any other characters? (This includes characters from other universes and canons)

Sul and her are meant to be okay.....

22. How would this character seduce a lover?

OH GOD well- apparently with flirty, charm, good looks, lots of hip swaying, smooth talking, etc (and her high Persuasion stat) works in her favor. Sul it- it would just come naturally. Essie’s shy with him it’s precious. It’s because she loves him tho.

23. If your character could play any part in a drama, stage production, or musical, what part would they play?

Behind the scenes, probably something like a makeup artist. In a piece, she’d probably be an actress, and a more low-key role because plz don’t spotlight me the arts aren’t my thing...

24. What is your character’s favorite album?

WIP WIP WIP ?? No albums in d&d realm so??? questionable.

25. What does this character mean to you?

I love her she’s my new daughter duh.

[salamadersaurus-rex]

Can you do something with lucy and Maggie coming home to a sick and stubborn Alex and being protective and doting girlfriends? Fluff please?

Read on AO3.

Maggie calls just after eleven.

“Code Green.”

“Maggie I love you but I’m in a meeting, I need toconcentrate.”

“No that’s Code Blue babe. Code Green is-“

“Oh! I remember. I’ll go by the pharmacy on my way home.”

“Thanks Luce.”

“Do you know what mood she’s in?”

“She said Kara made her lemon tea with honey so goblackberry.”

“Okay.”

“I love you too, by the way.”

“Love you. When do you get off?”

“In an hour or so.”

“Alright. I’ll take the afternoon off and get our littlegrump some soup. See you soon.”

“See you.”

Lucy hangs up and peers through the glass wall of the conferenceroom. Half her new associates are staring out the window, or playing on theirphones. The other half look like they’re about to fall asleep into theirlukewarm mugs of crap office coffee. Lucy decides it’s only fair to give them abreak.

“Alright ladies, gentlemen and non-binary folks,” she saysas she strides back into the room. “I’m sure you’ll all be devastated but I’mgoing to have to cut today’s meeting short.” She stifles a smile at the hopefullooks they shoot her way.

“Is there a new case?”

“No. Just some personal stuff.”

“Is Maggie okay?” someone asks, concerned. Maggie had comein to give them a talk about her precinct, and she’d won them all overcompletely.

“She’s fine, Alex is ill. Nothing major.”

There’s a chorus of hopeshe gets well soon’s as Lucy gathers up her coat and briefcase, and shesmiles at them all before leaving, pulling her phone back out of her pocket totext Alex.

Lucy: Be home soonbabe x.

Alex texts back almost immediately.

Alex: I’m fine.

Lucy chuckles, putting her phone away but having to take itback out again before she gets in the lift to see a text from Kara.

Kara: She has a bad cold.No need for the CDC just cuddles and soup.Kara: Also potstickers from that place bythe pharmacy?

Lucy: On it. Thanksfor taking care of her.

Kara: She’s my sister,I’d do anything for her.Kara: And for potstickers.

//

Lucy lets herself into Alex’s apartment. The tv is onquietly, a rerun of The Wizard of Oz, and the curtains are closed. Lucy can seeKara’s head over the back of the sofa, and grins when she spots Alex’sfavourite fluffy socks poking over the arm. She leans her briefcase against thewall and wanders into the kitchen to sort the food.

She leaves the potstickers on the edge of the table forKara, takes a deep bowl from the cupboard and stands the pot of takeaway Noonan’ssoup in it. Alex doesn’t usually spill things on the couch, but Lucy knows fromexperience how clumsy she can be when she’s sick. The plastic spoon rattlesagainst the bowl and Alex’s voice drifts from the couch.

“Is that you Lucy?”

“I’m here. I got you leek and potato. And some blackberrystrepsils for your throat.”

“Thank you.” Alex sniffles and pushes herself up into a seatedposition as Lucy comes into the sitting room.

Kara turns to grin at Lucy, getting up so Lucy can sit nextto Alex. “On the kitchen table,” Lucy says, and Kara skips happily into the kitchenfor her potstickers.

“I’m fine Luce,” Alex whines, her voice low and gravelly.Her eyes are red and puffy, cheeks pale. Her hair looks like she just rolledout of bed. She’s pouting and Lucy laughs, putting the soup on the low coffeetable and pulling Alex into a hug.

“Did J’onn send you home?”

Alex just nods against her shoulder.

“She refused to acknowledge she was sick, we had to manhandleher home actually.” Kara chimes in from the kitchen.

Lucy smiles. Alex is stubborn, she’d work through the BlackPlague if she could, but every now and then she’s forced into a sick day becauseof her ‘stupid immune system.’ Luckily Lucy and Maggie dote on her like motherhens, and eventually Alex relents and lets them take care of her.  

“Cuddles,” Alex demands, snuggling closer to Lucy. Sheswipes her hand through the air on her other side. “Where’s Maggie?”

“She’ll be home soon,” Lucy says. “Want something to eat?”

Alex huffs out an overblown sigh and sits back up. Shesniffles again and tugs a tissue from the huge box on the table. Kara’s scribbledout ‘man size’ and written ‘superhero size’ in sharpie on the box. Alex blowsher nose loudly and coughs, crumpling the tissue into a ball and lobbing it atthe bin next to the coffee table.

“Score,” Alex mumbles, half raising her fist in the air whenit goes in. She picks up the spoon from the soup bowl, gripping it in her fistlike a two-year old. Kara reappears as she happily digs in, resting her hand onAlex’s shoulder briefly.

“I have to go, superhero things.”

“Bye,” Alex says around a mouthful of potato.

Lucy gets up and pulls Kara into a hug. “Thanks for keepingan eye on her.”

“I’ll leave her in your very capable hands,” Kara says andopens the door just as Maggie’s reaching for the handle. “Hey, Maggie.”

“Hey, Kara. You off?”

“Yeah. National City doesn’t grind to a stop just becauseAgent Danvers isn’t on the case,” she laughs, and strides off down the hall.

“It should,” Alex grumbles from the sofa.

Maggie pushes the door shut and winks at Lucy. “Of coursebabe.”

Lucy pulls Maggie into a soft kiss, her hands going to herwaist to grip at her leather jacket. Maggie smiles into the kiss, tilting herchin up.

“Stop making out and take care of me,” Alex gripes from thecouch. Maggie pulls away from Lucy and leans over the back of the couch to kissthe top of Alex’s head. Lucy plops back onto the couch as Maggie shrugs out ofher coat and boots, settling down on Alex’s other side and taking her hand.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I could run a marathon and beat up Draaga with mypinkie.”

“So not very well.”

“No,” Alex whines, curling into Maggie’s side. “I’m cold.”

Maggie unfolds the blanket that they keep over the back ofthe sofa, spreading it over Alex’s knees before Alex tucks herself under herarm. Maggie runs her fingers through Lucy’s hair when she leans into Alex’sother side. The credits are rolling for the film Alex was watching, so Lucyreaches for the remote and pulls up Netflix. She flicks through a couple of randomaction movies before Alex stops her on RED, her favourite film to fall asleepto.

Lucy and Maggie share a soft look. Alex shifts until she’smore comfortable, head in Maggie’s lap and feet tucked into Lucy’s. She smileswhen Maggie starts playing with her hair. The film starts and Alex yawns andcloses her eyes.

Lucy and Maggie chat quietly about their days, or in Maggie’scase her night shift. Maggie laughs at the shitty coffee machine in Lucy’soffice, and Lucy promises to stop by the station with bagels on her way to workin the morning. Alex falls asleep long before the movie finishes, Maggie andLucy taking the opportunity to nap away the quiet afternoon too.

Kara comes back late in the evening, finds them tangled togetherasleep on the couch and grins, shutting off the tv on a movie long sincefinished and leaves them too it.