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simper-maximus · 2 years ago

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Courtiers Headcanons Yoo

Thoughts are flooding my head, here is me draining it out even though I have no experience in writing.

Now, warning: I only finished Lucio's route so these could contain inaccurate information. Since I basically know most of the story from memes. Oh well.

Today's topic is bodily functions and other slightly disgusting stuff. Enjoy.

Volta

➼Overall there is a common headcanon (or maybe it's canon? don't remember) that the courtiers do not need to eat, and thus have no bodily functions overall.

➼In my opinion, while that is mostly true, it only is to an extent. They don't need to eat, but if they do, you better believe it has to come out too

➼With that being said, Volta, with all her eating, practically lives in the loo

➼The first month when she got to the palace and became the darling lil procurator we know, she was overjoyed by being fed whenever she felt like it

➼(Which is basically all the time because everyone though of her as some sickly victorian child wannabe) (And hey, gotta feed the workers)

➼And at first everyone though it was because her scrawny body was just getting used to the now normal food intake

➼But nah she just had no control over herself and would go full sneaky mode and eat five cow's worth of food a day whoops

➼So the cooks and even Nadia got concerned

➼Why is this precious baby always running to the bathroom?? Is the food contaminated? But everyone else is fine??

➼They took her to the head doctor, darling Valdemar to check for allergies because what if she is lactose intolerant? Or has gluten problems?? They can't risk losing their most accurate poison check worker

➼This obviously annoyed the other demon because damn it, WHY couldn't Volta just chill and at least TRY not to raise attention?

➼In the end Valdemar prescribed her some fake pills and got her her own bathroom. Problem solved, nobody is suspicious now

Valdemar

➼Another headcanon I see often is that their shell of a body is fused with their clothes, basically making it part of the disguise

➼Yeah, no

➼They work with blood and other non solid waste that could stain their clothes

➼If those clothes were fused with their body it would make it sooo much harder to keep it clean

➼Not to mention anything could get stuck in that delicate fabric. Geting all up in the nooks and crannies

➼Good luck washing it out if that is the case. They'd have to throw their whole self in the washing machine

➼That being said they have a normal body under the uniform, and take daily showers even if they didn't get particularly dirty that day

➼They do however use those very old block soaps that makes your skin texture feel sticky in a way too clean sense. Either that or the strongest one they can find. Doesn't matter that it makes their skin dry as hell

➼That being said their skin is unbelievably dry all the time. Please put some lotion on them

Vulgora

➼HOW are they always so sweaty

➼Maybe definitely that is the reason they are always so angry all the time

➼How can you thrive in an environment where your foes keep getting away because of your slippery body, huh??

➼Brings Vlastomil to shame

➼The Vesuvian temperature doesn't help one bit. Therefore this demon loves the winter, despite claiming to dislike it because "the colors don't go well with their outfits"

➼They definitely tried the "pads inside your clothes" lifehack to lessen the damage. Don't ask where the pads came from

➼Also those facial oil remover rolls? They got like four in each pocket

➼Weirdly cares a lot about skin care though, so they often brag that the oils are the cause of their baby soft skin

➼You could not find one (1) pore on this demon's face. And of course, everybody noticed that

➼They tried to profit off of this, and sold some wacky "skincare scrub cream" to the civillians. (For the purpose of buying some sick weapons with the cash of course) Didn't work. Had to wait for a whole generation to die off to escape the shame

➼So how does their makeup never get smeared? Don't ask an enby their secrets~~

Vlastomil

➼He, like Volta loves a good feast and always joins in whenever he can

➼However he hates when fish is served because it reminds him that worms are often used as bait to catch said fish

➼Glares at the palace aquarium as he walks by

➼He is probably the most normal one of the bunch

➼Doesn't have to deal with anything extreme

➼Good for him honestly

Extra: Valerius

➼He is slowly starting to go bald but admits it to no one

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dear-wormwoods · 6 years ago

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Additional thoughts about Eddie’s addiction to prescription pills:

Personal headcanon is that the sedative dependency began a while ago - maybe early 20’s, probably after his first or second attempt to move out. The reason Sonia graduated from placebos to getting him prescribed real shit? Turns out Eddie is a lot more agreeable and less likely to leave if he’s regularly sedated.

So by the time Sonia dies, he’s been “cruising” (his word, oh Eddie...) for at least a decade and has no intention of stopping. He can, and regularly does, explain why he “needs” all of it, but the real reason is that being numb is easier than facing the fact that he’s missed out on everything life has to offer.

Sometimes I think about how 1990 Eddie takes that one bottle of pills and just straight up pours it into his mouth. Like okay, so not only are we not following labels, we aren’t even eyeballing this shit anymore? We’re just going for it, huh? If IT hadn’t gotten to him first, his liver eventually would have.

Also, Eddie trusts pharmaceuticals SO much that I’m like 99% sure all of his “dietary restrictions” in Chapter Two are in fact born from misinterpreting side effects. Intestinal pain from all of the unsafe drug combinations in my system? Must be all that gluten!! I have the chills because I’ve gone a couple days without my medicine? Can’t be withdrawal symptoms, nope, gotta be a soy allergy.

#i had one more bullet point to make but i forgot it #oh well #stephen king's it #it novel #eddie kaspbrak #eddie spaghet tea #it hcs #it 1990

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dakarimainink · 5 years ago

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Chapter 5

WARNING: Mild language

Mark stood waiting outside the entrance of my building with an umbrella. He had short and dark brown curly hair, partnered with a pair of brown eyes with hints of golden flakes. His warm smile made me almost forget about the rain as I approached him. He stretched out his hand and I gently shook it. “Nice to meet you, Luna.” He began. His hand was warm and soft by the touch. “The café is down this street.” He gestured towards down the road.

“Let’s go then.” I smiled and we made our way down the road. We walked close to each other to seek shelter under the umbrella. There were no one else walking down the road and not a car in sight. As we made our way down, a warm light emitted from the other side of the road. A wooden sign with the words; Midnight Coffee, were painted on.

Mark opened the glass door and let me through first. There were a few people sitting around, drinking coffee and reading a book or a paper. It had an old English style to it with dark red and brown tones, leather wingback chairs, wooden tables, a fake fireplace at the end of the room and a warm and low light. The smell of freshly ground coffee mixed with fruity tea seeped through my nostrils as we walked up to the barista. It was completely silent in the café, except for a distance chime of the spoon stirring in a cup and the sound of fire crackling.

The barista only greeted us with a smile. On the wall behind her was a small selection of coffee and tea. We made our orders quietly in order to not disturb anyone and sat down by one of the tables.

“It’s so quiet and nice in here.” I remarked and glanced around in the room. “I’ve never been here before.”

“This is my go-to place whenever I can’t sleep. Not a lot of people know it’s a 24-hour open café. It’s like my own little hideout at night.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “So, what kept you up tonight?”

I looked over at him. I knew I couldn’t tell him a handsome stranger kept me up, so I decided to go with a half truth instead. “Work. I have a lot of responsibility with one of the projects and it just keeps me up.” I rubbed the back of my neck as I felt a sting of guilt for lying. “What about you?” I asked and leaned forward on my elbows.

“Just regular insomnia. Been seeing a therapist about it, but they don’t know the cause, so they just prescribed pills for me.” He chuckled.

“Isn’t that the solution for everything these days?” I laughed.

“Indeed.”

The barista came over with our coffee and tea and silently placed it on the table. I reached forward to take a sip. Fuck! Too hot! I felt the sting linger on the tip of my tongue. I never learned from previous mistakes, how old would I be until I finally learned that tea is hot and should cool down before consumed.

“What do you work as?” He asked.

I ribbed the tip of my tongue against my palate. It helped some to linger the pain, but deep down I wished I had something cold. “I’m a freelance copywriter for Hopper Media. It’s a good job, but I think I am seeking something else in life.” I answered and kept my hands wrapped around the warm cup of tea. It was a nice contrast to the chilly rain outside. “What do you work as?”

“I’m a surgeon. More specifically a Cardiothoracic surgeon.” He replied. My eyebrows shot up before tying themselves together. He let out a chuckle as he saw my face expression change. “It means I specialize in surgical procedures of the heart, lungs and other organs in the chest.” He explained and I nodded in understanding. It sounded impressive that he was a surgeon. I had never been to the hospital to get any kind of operation, as I was a careful woman. I hadn’t even broken a single bone in my life, I considered it a small achievement. “I managed to get a week off, but still on calling duty. So if I get a call, I gotta go.”

“Do you enjoy it?” I asked. I myself had no trouble with blood but thinking of opening up a person and see the insides gave me chills. I had great respect for anyone working on bodies in general.

“Yes I do. It’s an interesting job, I feel you learn something new each day and I get to truly put my skills to the test every day. I have great colleagues as well.” He answered honestly. “And it pays well.” He cackled out and a stranger hushed at him. He sucked in his lips while trying to keep back a grin. He leaned forward and took a sip from his coffee. “You said you wanted something else in life. You’re not happy where you are?”

I gently bit my lower lip as my eyes glanced at my tea. “Well, I like where I am now, it’s much better than where I used to be. But I feel that copywriting isn’t really my thing. I want to write and act. I want to contribute to this world and leave a piece of me that people can remember for ages.” I admitted and fiddled with my own fingers. “I am contempt, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like I could offer the world something else.”

“You know, Luna, life isn’t about leaving the biggest mark on this world, it’s about leaving a small piece of yourself, no matter how small it is. If you can change only one life, even if that is your own, then that – for me at least – is more than enough of a mark.” He grinned at me with his chocolate eyes. I felt my stomach do a small flip as I felt his words hit my heart.

He was right in some way, but a part of me was greedy and if I could leave behind a mark to reach more people, then I would definitely go for it. “Seems easy to say for a man who changes and saves lives every day.” The words came out harsher than I wanted them to. I covered my mouth with one hand as my eyes widened out. “That didn’t sound right, I am sorry.”

He just chuckled and leaned forward in his seat. “No, you’re right.” He scanned my face with a wide smile. “I appreciate your honesty.”

We continued to talk for another while. Enjoying each other’s company as we drank our beverages and talked about everything we could. I learned that Mark liked to dance tango, play guitar and to cook. As a child he wanted to become a firefighter but followed his father’s footsteps and became a surgeon instead. He used to be bullied for his looks and brains as a child and for the fact that he was mostly home-schooled. His pet peeve was loud chewing, line cutters and slow walkers, (which I of course agreed with, because slow walkers were the worst). At the end of our conversation, we realised we had been going on for about two hours talking non-stop. The thing that brought our attention to the time was my wide yawn mid-sentence.

“Perhaps we should get going. You seem a bit heavy-eyed.” He chuckled and stood up from his chair. I nodded in agreement and we made our way out of the café. The rain had calmed down to a slight drizzle.

We made our way to outside my apartment building. Without thinking I leaned forward and hugged him. He hugged me back in a warm embrace and I couldn’t help but smile. “I had a great time getting to know you, Luna. I hope we can meet up another time.” He said and we let go of each other.

I took a step back to give ourselves some breathing room. “I would like that, Mark. I had a lot of fun. Much better than tossing in bed.” I laughed.

“Agreed.” He remarked. “You have my number, so give me a text when you want to meet up and I’ll see where I can squeeze in some time.” He smiled.

I smiled back at him before entering the building. I looked over my shoulder and saw he waved at me as I was about to walk up the stairs. I waved back before walking up to my apartment.

I entered my apartment and locked the door behind me. Mozart was lying in the windowsill sleeping. I walked over to him and stroked his body. He let out a meow followed by purring. I slid out of my clothes and crashed down into bed. Mozart followed pursuit and lay down on the second pillow. The thought of Mark made me smile, as I thought back on our conversation and how open he had been.

My eyes suddenly popped open and widened out. Oh god… another man to dream about. Fuck me!

CHAPTER LIST

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #tom hardy #original character #original female character #original male character #cute

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the-voice-of-hell · 4 years ago

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Rent is Theft, part 19

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here. Note: My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not. If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

***

In retrospect, it was a pretty big leap from my success with the allergy medicine to assuming I could make sorcery happen, but I did not hesitate or doubt what I was attempting to do. My worry of it not working was less about a lack of faith in magic than a lack of confidence in my choices of method.

But whatever those doubts, once I had my plan, I committed to it.

I moved all the remaining furniture out of the living room except one tiny end table that would serve as my “wooden altar.” I used bulk white chalk to create the magic circle, ladled with a little dustpan. The prescribed seven foot diameter was just about the entire width of my little living room. Inside that I used the bulk chalk to make an equilateral triangle about five feet per side. I had put on a face mask and sprayed the surface of that geometry with a fixative I’d brewed up with a combination of research and guesswork. It didn’t have to be permanent, just last long enough for some use, and I figured the high school technique of using hairspray to fix pastels on construction paper wasn’t going to work here.

I leaned against my kitchenette to rest, observing the work. Sloppy, but could be worse. I went back at it, writing three symbols of Mercury inside the triangle in yellow chalk. That had to be sidewalk chalk, so it was much more slow going. The triangle called for “various symbols of Mercury” and the most I could find that seemed legit was the three - the caduceus, of course, with snakes entwining a winged rod; an astrological symbol that looked like Venus with horns; and the periodic table abbreviation Hg. At the end I used my fixative again.

That was the hard stuff, and took more than an hour to complete. After that my room had a chemical smell, but I needed to eat, so I grabbed some string cheese, peanuts, and a bottle of wine to the bedroom. Rest. It had been a long morning and would be very easy to fall asleep, but I resisted. I rolled the glass on my face, cool with condensation.

I finished the whole bottle, just in case the drunkenness was an important ingredient. Although when should I be doing that drinking? Should I have done it before the chalk? Later, right before midnight? The bottle had me feeling chill, but not really drunk. My tolerance was getting high. Bad shit.

There were two brushed steel racks holding spot lights for the walls, one on each side of the room. I ran a string between them as taut as I could get it, and from that hung my St. Hubert bottle of mercury. Along the rest of the line I used clothespins to hang rumpled blue-violet wolfsbane flowers. At regular intervals around the outer circle, I placed glass olive oil bottles with their contents drained and replaced with candles - for the time remaining unlit. On the island counter of the kitchenette, I reserved two places for my blood mixture and for the sulfur-beaverbutt-camphor mixture. On the opposite side of the circle, out by the window, one of the olive oil candle bottles sat on the little side table with my three wands.

Were they wands or switches? They were meant for violence, at least per the book. The previous night I’d tried to soften the business ends by sanding them and covering them with frayed twine. I didn’t know how important it was for Knobby to get hit with the very specific woods involved, so it wasn’t perfect coverage. It was surely going to sting.

Not drunk enough. I opened a box of wine in the fridge and poured a glass, then walked out to the living room. “Evil spirits, your time is nigh! I am a highly magical bitch!” I drank the glass to the bottom, then threw it into the far corner of the room, where it broke against the window and lay in sparkling chunks. I let my head dip, my eyes close. “I am a highly magical b--”

There was a knock at the door. I answered, opening a comfortable crack for my floories. “Hello guys.”

Marcie asked, “Eh, are you drunk, honey?”

“Whu-? Oh. Listen, I’m only a lil’ tipsy, and it’s for magical reasons. I’m serious now.”

Marcie and Mike had teamed up, and were at the door together. Mike said, “So, we haven’t found Knobby. Getting pretty bushed, gotta take a break.”

“Want to come into my humble witch’s den? There is no furniture in the living room now.”

“That’s OK, Courtney. We’ll go to my place, charge up my cellphone for a bit.”

“Right on. You know where Momi is lookin’?”

“Last time we passed her she was on some floors downstairs.”

“He won’t be down there,” I thought aloud. “Thanks, guys. I’m about ready in here. I’ll see you later.”

They left, I drank a bit of water and took a bathroom break, then went out to find Momi. I still didn’t expect to find Knobby while I was at it, just wanted to be close to her again. Out in the hall I heard the elevator. I glanced that way to see Perry coming back from who knows where. He didn’t acknowledge me, but gave the untended eyeballs in the hall corners a sad look. I went into the stairwell. I’ll clean up that crap for you when I get back, buddy.

I found Momi walking around the eighth floor and smiled as I stumbled toward her. She gave me a concerned look. “Are you OK? You’re drunk.”

“I’m only a little drunk, and it’s not because I’m losing my nerve. It’s for magical reasons. Magical, I swear!”

“Mmm, OK, I guess.” She had clamped a strong hand on my shoulder to arrest my sloppy affection, so no hugging was to be had. That said, her touch made me happy. Her strength made me feel weak, in a good way.

“So I was thinking, there’s nobody living on these floors right now, so we should just look upstairs. Where the biddies are.”

“Biddies?”

“The old ladies that are complaining about our dogboy.”

“Heheh. I guess a werewolf is just a dogboy, expecially if he’s a teenager.”

“Shit, you’re so cute. That’s why I act funny, so I can see you smile.” I tried to get my paws on her, but she still held me back. “Weh. What can I do, baby?” I gave up and clasped my hands together in a prayer to my goddess, probably giving off Peter Lorre Mad Love vibes.

“We should go. You aren’t wearing your allergy medicine.” She pointed at the carpet.

I looked down. She had the pill amulet on and the floor around her sneakers was fine. The carpet under my feet was puffing and pinkish, starting to glisten. “Oh Christ.”

***

We got my amulet and took the elevator to the top floor, which again had a different layout from our floor. There were still a few small apartments available, but the spacing of the doors suggested large penthouse suites. I remembered how much those cost from the listings when I moved in. It made me wanna knock the top off the fucking building. The hall there was designed to admit a maximum of sunlight and had much more powerful indoor lighting as well, keeping it bathed in an overwhelming glow. Having never seen that hall before, I felt like an escapee from Plato’s cave, about to get shot by the guards and chucked back into the underground.

But from the brief visit I knew the day was rapidly diminishing. If we couldn’t turn up Knobby, this full moon might be a bust. Still, if we couldn’t turn up Knobby, it also meant I could just spend my night loving my girlfriend, which was much more pressing in my mind just then.

We entered the stairwell, ready to go floor to floor again. A few steps in and I tripped, about to fall hard and break apart like dry kindling. Momi grabbed me and held me still on the stairs. One of my ankles was slightly twisted, my feet were on different steps, my hips twisted in place. I untangled them and set my feet carefully in place on the closer step.

When she spoke her lips were right by my ear. I could feel her breath on me. “Courtney! Be careful! Holy Jesus.”

“You better hold me just a little longer, I’m not... quite...” No, I was totally set. I just loved the feeling, squished against her soft body in her big arms, though my head wrap was probably whacking her in the eyes. “OK, I’m good.” I held the rail this time. I moved slow to trick her into going down side by side with me, then I matched her pace.

“You ready to wrestle a dogboy?,” I asked.

“You think he will fight me?”

“I guess he might come if we ask nice. If we say we have doggy biscuits.”

“Good. I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Yeah... So if this works, maybe we can do exorcisms on our heads, y’know? Unsquirrel your hair. What would you do with your hair, if you could control it again?”

We opened the door and looked into the hall of the next floor down. No Knobby.

“Ooh, I don’t know. What would look pretty?”

“Anything on you, baby. Maybe just to show your hair who’s boss you could do some crazy punk rock ’do. Like a big bright red and pink mohawk with leopard spotted buzz on one side and green and purple liberty spikes on the other.”

“Oh my god, that would be so weird.”

“Braided pigtails.”

“I tried that before. It takes too long, and it hurts.”

“Trim the sides and back, do a big pompadour.”

“Like Janelle Monáe? She can only do that because she’s skinny and pretty.”

I opened the door to the next floor down and peeked in. Nothing. “Uggh, come on, babe. You can do whatever you want. And we’re just daydreaming here, right? Wildest dreams, silly time. What would you do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m gonna bleach your ends white and dye them bright fuchsia. How you like that?”

“I guess I don’t mind.”

“Oh you don’t mind, huh? What else could I do to you, that you’d just sit there and tolerate?”

“Courtney, do you really wanna know how far you can push, before I put you in a dumpster?”

“Augh! Oh no, baby, I sure don’t!”

“It’s OK. I wouldn’t put you in a dumpster.”

“So can I paint your face like a clown?”

“What? Why would you wanna do that?”

“Not a scary clown, Momi.” I looked in on another empty floor. “Like a cute clown.”

“Do you wanna have sex with a clown?”

“Never thought about it. Might be fun.”

“I would sit and tolerate that.”

“Whoa. Kinky. But it wouldn’t be fun if you were a total pillow princess about it. You’d have to do something clowny. Like, uh, slap me with a toy fish or something.”

“I could tolerate that.”

“That’s just... fucking amazing. What should I do with this newfound sex power I have? To get you to do weird stuff.”

“Hehehe.”

“That sounds like carte blanche to me. I’m gonna go mad with power.”

We looked in on another floor. Some young dude was walking into his apartment and stopped a moment when he noticed us. We acknowledged each other with little nods and he went on. We continued our descent.

***

Marcie reached Richie on her cell, Richie was getting sporadic texts from Olivia, and supposedly the kids were going to come back home before midnight. Word was that they had found Knobby’s deformity pretty useful for garnering sympathy while panhandling, were trying to make the most of it.

I had my doubts but through the phone game we found out there were too many possible spots they were using, and they changed spots several times per day, so hunting them down would be a huge pain. We settled in to wait for them.

When Graeme came home at eight, he said he’d met Patrick in the hall, and Patrick told him the biddies were at it again - claiming that very afternoon someone had seen a large dog in the hall, urinating this time. I went floor to floor, looking for the spot, and found it on the fourteenth floor. When had he slipped by us?

Marcie got worn out, while Mike seemed more energetic as the night went on, so we let him do some searching by himself - on the condition that he keep his green ass out of sight. Around ten, Patrick reported back that he’d seen the werewolf, but it got away. He had barely seen it, only had another deuce it had left in the hall to confirm his suspicions of what the hustling figure had been.

In response to that, we had Richie text Olivia again. She got back to say she and Knobby were almost home. I found that too vexing to really consider. I shushed Richie when he started following that train of thought to its obvious conclusion.

Olivia and Knobby took the elevator up and were immediately grabbed up by Patrick and swept into my apartment. That can’t have been very comforting, but they seemed genially clueless when brought before their queen.

“Hello kids,” I said. “This is a bit of a surprise party for you, Knobby.”

He beamed nervously. His smile was huge and white for a homeless kid. I think at some point he had said his dad was a dentist. “Wha-a-a-at? Really? Look like...” He lost his train of thought as his eyes took in the whole scene - the chalk circle, the single chair in the center of the room over the hermetic symbols.

Olivia asked, “What the fuck is this shit?”

By now we had Momi, Richie, Deandre, Graeme, and Patrick in the room. Graeme looked ready to step in and be politic, but it was my show. I answered, “It’s nothing bad. Olivia, how hard are you holding your neck down right now? You notice we’re all having problems like that?”

“What’s it got to do with-”

“What’s it got to do with me?,” Knobby said.

“This seems like it’s the building’s way of trying to get us caught. Somebody in particular has been turning into a dog and causing a scene around our neighbors. We have to stop it.”

“Oh no,” Olivia said, “They’re gonna kill you!”

I rolled my eyes and showed them both palms. “No sacrificial dagger here, kids. Come on.”

Knobby went back on his haunches in a truly dog-like fashion, cringing in fear. “Oh no!”

“We’re not even going to hurt you, seriously! I came up with this magic spell. We have to spank you with those wands and pour some gross magic sauce on you, but you’ll be fine! Not even a bruise.”

He clung to her thigh pathetically. Suddenly her head turned completely upside down, her neck escaping the collar of her unseasonably heavy jacket. She scrambled to sort herself out, push the neck back in. “Ugh!”

“We have to do it guys. I’ll let you use my shower to clean up after, OK? Just, please, cooperate?”

“I don’t wanna,” he whimpered.

Richie said, “When has she ever hurt us guys? If Courtney says you’re going to be OK, you’re going to be OK. Chill, bro.”

“If this works,” Graeme said, “We’re all going to do it, to cure our problems. My red hands, Olivia’s neck, Mike’s green skin...”

Olivia settled her head down, buttoned the jacket collar to hold her neck in again. “Mmm, I dunno...”

Knobby finally let go of her leg, tried to prop himself up to a standing position - still a deep crouch. “I guess if everyone is gonna do it, I don’t like having to creep around like this. You swear it won’t hurt?”

“It might hurt a tiny bit.” I pointed to the table with the wands. “We’re going to smack you with those sticks a few times, but just a few times, right? Then I’m going to pour this gross stuff on you - some reheated pig blood and a magic potion. Both have to be pretty hot, but they won’t be boiling, OK?”

“Oh God, that’s gross,” he muttered, but he wasn’t trying to get away anymore.

“I’m glad you’re helping out, because the ritual says we’re supposed to tie you up, and I don’t wanna hafta do that. We care about you guys.”

“Speak for your damn selfs,” Perry said, as Marcie brought him into the room.

“Be nice, Perry,” Marcie said.

“I don’t know you,” he groaned.

Patrick took him by the arm off to the far side of the circle.

I looked to Marcie. “Only missing Mike now.”

“He was so rambunctious, wanted to keep looking. I haven’t had a chance to let him know we found Knobby already, and he doesn’t have a cellphone.”

“We’ll do this without him if we have to, but I really want everybody to be here. One, just so everybody knows what we’re all doing - so nobody gets any wrong ideas or loses trust. And two, I feel like the spell is more likely to work if we’re all in attendance.”

Grime said, “I sit on my ass all day at work. I could use the workout. Anybody else feel rested enough to go bring Mike back?”

Deandre said, “My feet are tore up.”

Almost everybody had done a ton of walking around town, or at work, or upstairs and down.

Richie said, “I’m kinda beat, but it’s important. I’ll help out.”

“Alright,” said Grime. “If we do this logically, there’s no way he can get past us. I say we have one of us in each stairwell, right..?” He kept splaining as they went out the door.

I addressed the rest of the floories. “OK, you’re all guests here! It’s a while before midnight, so head on into my bedroom. I have a selection of comfy seats, I’ll bring in beverages - just watch out for the chalk. Thanks Patrick, just step over... OK, there you go.”

They all went in to relax. I had some bowls of chex mix for the occasion, the kind with bugles and cheez-its. Hopefully nobody had food allergies or was vegan. I came back with a box of wine, a sleeve of red disposable cups, and a big jug of cheap fruit punch.

“Alright, here’s the stuff. Anybody want anything else? I can slice some cheese, got some donuts but they might be a bit stale.”

A few people availed themselves of that hospitality, others started chatting, and a few minutes later I was able to settle in beside Leimomi. She smiled weakly at me, then we both did the same to Olivia and Knobby, who were sitting across from us. I realized too late that was probably in creepy unison, and had a dark chuckle. Knobby laughed nervously, Olivia did not.

“I’m really hoping this works, guys, and if it doesn’t, the worst that happened is we wasted our time and Knobby had to take a shower. OK?”

“I got ya, I got ya,” he said.

“It’ll be great to get out of these stupid head wraps. Momi and I are looking like fake Erykah Badus.”

“Who’s that?,” Olivia asked.

***